Both Sides of the Brain

So it’s the first day of 2011. And on such a day you would expect a post to naturally be about a list of my resolutions for the year, ending with a happy new year wish to everyone.

But I am not going to jump on the new-year-resolution blog post bandwagon for a couple of reasons. First, I want to be more discreet about my goals from now on, until they are accomplished. Second, and more importantly, these goals aren’t even clear yet.

Of course, I do wish everyone a happy new year.  Is it possible to be happy every single day of the year? Highly doubt it.. let’s say I hope that everyone has a year that is happier than their previous ones. That’s a more realistic kind of wish, no?

In any case, there is something about 2011 that makes it different from other years. At least to me. Because in 2011, I should be turning 30 years old.

Now, I was never the one to worry about my age. I never feared getting older. I actually always looked forward to it. And still do.

“Age ain’t nothing but a number”, cliché but true somehow.

But for some reason, I consider 30 to be an appropriate age for one to carefully assess where they are in life. And for someone about to turn 30, I can generally say that I am grateful for where I am.. Grateful, but not fully satisfied. Might not make sense for a moment, but let me explain.

I am grateful because I am doing well, compared to where I was a few years back. I have a pretty good position, in a top multinational company. I am living in one of the greatest cities in the region – Dubai. I have a supportive  family. Health-wise, nothing to complain about.  And finally, I have the people who I love in my life.

But I am not fully satisfied because, I am doing just well. But I am not doing amazing. And before anyone jumps into any conclusions, “doing amazing” to me does not mean living in a bigger house or having more money (nothing wrong with that though). It actually means doing something amazing with my life.

I have given a lot of thought in the past few years (yeah, it’s been going on for a while, this dissatisfaction) as to what this “amazing thing” should be. But I am still utterly clueless. And this cluelessness is damn frustrating. I did all the “soul searching”. I have read all the “inspirational” books that claim to have the answers. Some of these books were a waste of time and money, while the better ones gave me a couple of  insights. But years later, I still don’t have a clear idea in mind.

If I had to describe this “idea” though, it would have to be something that improves the lives of people, on a very large scale. And it has to be something that has not been done before. That’s all I have right now. You’d think I would come up with something less vague after all these years.

Despite all this, I haven’t lost hope yet. Maybe, on some random day in 2011, this idea will strike me out of the blue. Maybe I will even get off my lazy ass and take action and turn it into reality. And maybe (am I becoming extremely unrealistic yet?) others will get excited about my idea and join in to make it happen.

Or maybe I should come back down to planet earth.

So, until the  day comes -if ever- when I have an “aha moment” and everything becomes clear,  I will still be grateful for my “doing well” in life.  Doing well isn’t so bad right? Here’s to a happy (happier) new year…

I’ve been meaning to write about my experience as a resident of Dubai for quite some time.  I kept putting it off until finally, here I am,  typing from my office on a day with almost no work to do.

It wouldn’t have made sense to write about my life after only being here for a few weeks.  If I did, my opinions would’ve been affected by the initial wow-effect people experience when they first move here.  So, I wanted to make sure I settled down first and got used to everything.  Almost two months into living in Dubai,  I feel that I sort of reached that stage.

I am not sure where to start though – there are so many different aspects to write about.  So many changes since I moved out of Riyadh.  Yet, all these changes seem so normal now, like they’ve always been there. Almost not even worth writing about.

So I guess I’ll start off with the conclusion:  Overall, I am very happy to be living in Dubai, and I do not regret the decision to move here one bit.

To make it easier for me to assess my life at any point, I like to divide it into different “categories”.  So every now and then, I step back and take a separate look at my: professional life, social life, private life, health/fitness, spirituality, finances, learning,  and finally,  my own leisure time for any random fun activities.  In my experience, dividing my life into these categories makes it easier for me to reach the kind of balance that I’m always looking for. Also, when one of these parts of my life isn’t working out too great, I know where to put my focus. And if things are taking time to improve for whatever reason, I still know that, hey, at least the rest of the parts aren’t too bad.

In the future,  I might give each of these aspects its own post.  For now I can tell you that they are not all near where I would like them to be (so this is not the reason I am happy here).  In fact, some of them need a lot of work.  But somehow, I feel that being in a city like Dubai gives me the opportunity to make my life the way I would like it to be.  And that’s what I love about being here.

To those who know me personally, or at least have been following this blog, it is no secret that I am leaving Saudi Arabia for good. I will be relocating to Dubai very soon. Something I am very excited about.

A couple of weeks ago, the HR lady I had been in touch with over there, informed me that the company I am about to join would be holding a workshop in Argentina on November 8th. She asked me if I could make it then. I said I would try. In my mind, however, I doubted that I would end up going. The date of the workshop was way too soon – only a few days after my last working day in Saudi. I would not have enough time to complete my pre-exit to-do list by that date.

For the next period, every time Ms. HR would open up the subject of the Argentina workshop, I found myself evading giving her a direct response. I felt like I was resisting the idea of attending the workshop, by telling myself that I simply did not have the time to get all the traveling prearrangements done. I mean, shouldn’t I at least spend a few last days of quality time with my fam?

As much as this excuse made sense, a part of me clearly wasn’t buying into it. The little voice inside of me (well, one of the little voices – the one that’s responsible for detecting my own bullshit)  was saying “Mo, you know this isn’t true right? This isn’t the real reason you don’t want to go there”. Little voice was right as usual. He always is, and sometimes, I hate him for that.

When a part of me calls out my own bluffs, I can do one of two things; both of which are not easy. I can either bury my head in the sand, petending that part doesn’t exist and in return, suffer the restlessness causd by my own internal nagging. Or I can sit quietly with myself, take a deep breath, and face my own truth. I usually go for the second option (well, at least eventually – sometimes after some damage is already done).

The truth this time was simple. And silly. I am the type of person who gets nervous on two-hour flights. Casual turbulance is enough to make me regret every mistake I’ve made in my life. I have never been to the US only because a 14 hour flight (transit or not) is nightmarish to me.

It is a groundless fear that makes absolutely no sense. A storm in a teacup, but that’s human impulses for ya.

That being said, this was a fear I had been planning on eliminating one day, by forcing myself to hop on any damn plane that’s going somewhere far enough to get my stomach turning. I guess the opportunity just presented itself to me. I decided yesterday to take the trip to Argentina. It is a 22 hour flight in total, (7 Hours to London and another 15 to Buenos Aires), longer than the longest trip I had dreamt of taking. I figure that if I get over this, I will finally get over this block in my life that has been preventing me from enjoying the freedom of traveling.

Plus, hey, I think I’m going to have a great time over there 🙂

I’m standing at my manager’s door about to knock. I’m hesitating. This is it I guess. Here goes nothing.

*Knock Knock Knock*

“Come in!”

I step inside. He’s at his desk, and he doesn’t even glance at me as I walk in. His eyes are glued to his laptop screen. He’s absorbed either in a highly important Email, or a dumb YouTube video. I’d put my money on the second.

“Do you have a few minutes? I need to talk to you about something”. I’m trying to throw some urgency in my voice tone.

“Have a seat” – his eyes are still glued to the screen.

I’m used to this kind of treatment from him. As much as I admire his work ethic (he always gets his job done, YouTube or not), his distant attitude with his team puts me off.

It’s all good though. I’m about to drop a bomb shell.

“I’m leaving the country. For good.”

……………………………………………………………………..

The result of my interview in Dubai had come through. They said they liked me. They offered me a good position and I accepted it. So simple, so quick. but also, so life-changing . I love it.

I’ve lived in Riyadh for a good 15 years of my life. In my mind I think of it as home, more so than my real hometown. My family and best friends are all here.  But I’m heading out on a Final Exit Visa. (“Final exit”..pretty dramatic name for a visa, eh?)

No turning back after I leave. I’m going out on a limb. Excitement.

At the time of writing this though, I’m still not feeling anything. Guess the whole idea hasn’t sunk in yet.  I’m in waiting mode now. Waiting to see what the next chapter will bring, as the story of my life unfolds.

I’m sitting at my desk on a boring workday and my phone rings. I really can’t be bothered to talk to anyone. But my eyes shoot a quick glance at the number on the screen  and -lo and behold – it starts with a +9714. Dubai.

“Hello?”

“Hello, hi. Is this Mohammad?”

“Speaking”

“This is V from B Recruitment company. I have a client who might have a suitable vacancy for you. It’s in Dubai. Do you mind if I send them your CV?”

“Be my guest” I reply casually.

Well I tried to sound casual, that is.  But in reality, I was trying hard to contain my excitement.  I had been applying to jobs all over for a whole year now, with little or no feedback (except for the occasional “We’re sorry” emails that started off disappointing, then became predictable).

Maybe persistance does pay off afterall.

I told myself that I should chill. After all, she was just asking for my CV. A very standard thing to do. I’m sure she’s asked many others for theirs, right?  Oh well, back to staring at my excel sheets.

Two weeks later…

“All cabin crew please be seated for landing”.

I’m on a plane that’s descending towards Dubai. I’m usually nervous during this part of the flight but not this time. I was too lost in my anticipation of what’s to come. My telephonic interview went well last week. Now I’m scheduled for a final face-to-face interview next morning. Might be a good idea to look at the company’s website and memorize a couple of lines. Note to self.

Fast forward twelve hours. I’m sitting in a spacious meeting room with two HR ladies taking turns grilling me with their questions. I am dressed in my best suit and tie  (the purple one, something about that tie seems to work). I’m feeling centered. I’m communicating articulately. I’m thinking I wish I could communicate the same way with everyone in my life.

I have to say that if there is anything in the world I am good at, it would be handling interviews. I sort of figured out the psychology behind what gets people hired. HR people often make the mistake of hiring people that they like.  They – unconsciously – select someone whom they could see as their “friend” over another a more skilled “jerk” . Emotions play a big role when humans make decisions. And I take that to my advantage.

Manipulative? Maybe. But it’s ok as long as it’s for a good cause: moving my ass to Dubai.

An hour later:

“It was nice talking to you Mohammad, we still have other candidates to interview“.

Sure, I thought, that’s what they always say. In my mind this translates as “we don’t want to look desperate, so we want to give you the impression that we have other candidates to interview”. Fair enough.

“I understand” was my reply.

“We’re in a hurry. So we’ll get back to you next week”.

I knew they would. Somehow, I can just feel it when I have won at an interview. There’s a positive vibe in the air. Interviewers facial expressions are relieved. They have that “we found our man” look in their eyes.  Their tone of voice is friendly. I shake their hands, thank them for their time, and make an exit.  Now someone tell me where I can find some good coffee around here.

To be continued…

  I still worry about the future sometimes. A lot less than how much I used to though. And from my observation, a lot less than how much some people around me do about theirs.

  It might be a part of growing up. 28 years into my life (29 in October), and things are generally good – despite everything I had previously been concerned about. So I wonder, if I hadn’t worried about my future, in my past (if that makes sense), would everything still be ok now? I believe so.

  I spend time contemplating such questions. My alone time is filled with these musings. They’re sort of entertaining, in a strange way.

  I also wondered: would it make any difference to my future, whether or not I worry about it? And I figured that yes, my future would be different if I remove “worrying” from the equation altogether. It would be different in a better way though: I would be happier. Mainly because I’d be happier now, since I’m not troubled about my future. And the future is nothing but a continuation of “now”. Did I lose you yet?

  Of course, my mind had to throw objections to this. Such as, “If you don’t worry about your future, it means that you don’t care about it”. 

  But caring is a different concept. I can care about my future without living in constant fear that something will go wrong. When I am calm, I can think and plan for my forthcoming days from a place of trust. A trust that everything will fall into place, eventually.  

  I’m not saying that I’m always so self-assured. There are moments where I slip into an abyss of dark expectations. I get flashes of all sorts of horrible twists of fate that could happen to me. Things I’ve seen, or heard happen to others. Other times I envision a boring, ordinary life. One which would end without leaving any mark on this planet. Something I dread.  

  What has changed from my younger years is that now, instead of sinking deeper into my apprehension, and have it ruin my mood for days, I shake it off. I tell myself that everything always works out for the best.  At least for me, it always has.

   I might not be a person who practices all requirements of his faith. But the faith is there. And lucky for me, God doesn’t only take care of the lives of saintly, righteous people. Knowing this, I have learned to let go…

Yes, that happens to be me up there.

I also relived the playful fights we used to have. The innocent preteen crushes. And the old neighbors angrily yelling at me when I woke them up from their afternoon nap (I always forgot that I wasn’t supposed to play basketball before 5:00 pm).

I didn’t stay for long that day. Maybe cause I knew that I would return there to pick up my sister. And even drive her there again on another day.  It turned out that I would. I still drive her there all the time. I volunteer to do so. And every time I do, I can’t help but take another peak inside. Will I ever get a chance to live there again?  Probably not. And that might be for the best. I guess it’s better to keep a good memory intact.

I started running last Thursday. Nothing too serious. I hopped on the old treadmill and ran for a kilometer. Took a little break, and ran a couple more. When I stepped down, I was panting heavily. My breathing was similar to that of a smoker that just ran up two flights of stairs, except that I had a smile on my face. And I don’t smoke.

I’ve had this treadmill for over a year now. Maybe more. And for the longest time, I neglected it. It had turned into another piece of furniture that I didn’t notice.  I mean, I did toss my shirt on it after a long day at work.  But that wasn’t quite what I was excited about when I first made a spot for it in my room.

It’s only been a few days since my first run, and coincidently, the same number of days since my first blog post. And although 4k already feels easy , it’s still way too early to congratulate myself. And that’s mainly because of a certain a little thing I know about myself.

I have this habit. Some might consider it a bad habit (and I don’t blame them for thinking that). I tend to start things that I don’t finish. And the examples are countless: Going to the gym, starting a website, reading a novel, enrolling in a Masters program (which is currently on hold), joining a basketball team, trying out new hobbies, and a myriad of other activities that I got myself immersed in, before I bail out on very short notice.

It’s funny that for years, I didn’t even realize that I had this habit. But when I noticed it, I sought out an explanation for it. Why did I keep doing this? It wasn’t long before I got my answer. Most of the things I get into, I get into for the experience, not for an end goal I am aiming to accomplish. I like the initial “feeling” of trying something new.  As soon as I am accustomed to this feeling, it loses its excitement, and I move on and try something else.

The good thing about this habit is that you end up “trying” lots of things. You know the type of people who say “I’d try anything once”? I’m one of those. Well, almost. As long as it’s not something insane, (and skydiving – I have an issue with heights).

However, I have always felt a sense of admiration for people who started something, and stuck to it. People who have a passion, into which they pour their hearts and souls. Over the years, they become extremely good at what they have committed to. It might be something small, even unnecessary in the eyes of others. But when I look at such people, and how amazing they have become at what they do, I can not help but feel like I got hit with a bolt of inspiration. With a feeling of  “I want to be THAT good at something too”, mixed with a little annoying bit of  “I wish I had started when I was younger”.

If you belong in the above category of people, consider yourself blessed.

So I started running last Thursday. And I also started writing. And I am loving both. Will I stick to them? I want to. Only time will tell. Old habits die hard, as they say. But hard is not impossible, and maybe it’s this habit’s time to go.  And as I type the last few words of this post, I am already dressed in my sweat pants. I believe that’s a good sign.

Yes.I finally got around to writing my first post. I’ve been thinking about starting a blog for over a month now.  And something within me was resisting.  But, I finally made it happen, without even the slightest clue of where I’m going with it.

What exactly was it  that was holding me back from writing? Lots of things. Not knowing if I had something worth sharing was one of them. I mean, maybe I would come up with one, two, even five “interesting” posts. But then what? Then this blog would become history. Lost amongst millions of other blogs (I assume) that have started their journey but quickly ran out of inspiration “fuel”.

I also didn’t know which direction I should take with my blog.  Should I make it comical? Should I write about my everyday life? Maybe I could write about my own weird theories on psychology, philosophy, and existence? None of these ideas really “clicked” though. I’m a random person, and I never really liked being stuck within a one niche. Having my character (of which my blog can be somewhat of a representation) confined within a certain “box”  is something I normally avoid. And oh, there was also another question. Who am I writing for exactly? Would I want to write for others, hoping I would, with time, gain some kind of a following that would satisfy my ego? Or should I write for myself, and pour out whatever thoughts were urging me to release them, while I pretend no one out there would read them, and then hit “Publish”?

Yeah, that last idea resonated with me.  It sounded good. Just pouring out thoughts as they come. I’ll never run of thoughts, right? Who does? I mean, you can’t really stop thoughts from popping up, even if you tried to. Actually, if thoughts had a pause button, no one would ever go crazy. That’s another topic.

But of course, my thoughts would need some editing. And deleting, too, of course. Really, who would want to allow others to have a look at their pure, unadultarated thoughts? Those things are usually kept in well hidden diaries, or anonymous blogs, depending on which outlet you prefer to express your “dark side”. I’m personally doing just fine keeping such thoughts where they actually originate.

That, my friends, was the logic – if you will – that lead me to write my very first post, in this here blog: “Both Sides of The Brain”

Why “Both Sides of The Brain” ? Well, the brain does have two sides, and each of these sides functions differently. We all have a logical, linear left brain, and a more abstract, creative right brain. Everyone uses both, but has one side that they are more inclined to use (apparently, this inclination is something you are born with).  Anyway, this name popped up in my head, and I decided to use it.

Interestingly enough, when I googled “Both Sides Of The Brain” to see whether the name was taken, I found that it actually was.  Not by a blog, but by a Hip Hop group who decided to give their album this same name. I wasn’t going to let that stop me though. I didn’t steal it. Plus the name just feels “right” to me.

Might be worth mentioning that underground hip hop happens to me my favorite type of music. #Random, if you’re a tweep.

So there you have it. My first post.  Is this any indication of how my second post will be like? Probably not. I guess we’ll have to wait and see.