العودة إلى الدراسة! إثارة لا تنتهي

!عامٌ دراسيٌّ جديد

غالبًا ما يغمرنا شعور الإثارة عند الشروع بالعمل أو الدراسة، ولكننا سرعان ما نشعر بالملل. السؤال إذا: هل هناكَ نصائحٌ يُمكننا من خلالها تحدي السأم والضجر؟

!أجل

قد يُرددُ بعض الطلبة أن هذه المرة ستكون مثل المرات السابقة حيث نبدأ العام الدراسي بسعادة وعملٍ جاد وجهدٍ كبير ولكنّها مرحلة قصيرة الأجل ثم تبدأ مرحلة التكاسل والتعب. ولكننا نُؤكد لك أنّ هذه فرصةٌ جديدةٌ لك! اغتنمها واقضِ وقتًا ممتعًا هذا العام

أولًا، عليك أن تضع لنفسك أهدافًا واقعية تُسهم في تحفيزك للوصول حقًا، فمثلًا لا تقل “يجب أن أتقدم على الجميع” أو “يجب أن أحصد أعلى الدرجات”، بل حاول أن تقول “أريد في هذه السنة أن أقضيَ وقتًا ممتعًا” أو “أريد أن أشعر بالمتعة أثناء تعلمي”، وهذه أهداف أكثر فعالية، لماذا؟ لأن رحلة الوصول إلى القمة أجملُ بكثيرٍ من الوصول نفسه. فبعد بضع سنواتٍ من الآن وأثناء عملك في مكانٍ ما، لن تتذكر الدرجات التي حصلت عليها، ولكنك ستتذكر اللحظات الجميلة التي قضيتها وأنت تتعلم، والمتعة التي شعرت بها وأنت تُطبق الأشياء التي تعلمتها، هذه الذكريات كلها ستظلُّ محفورةً في قلبك للأبد، بل وفوائدها أعظم

تذكرأن التعلم أهم من الدراسة، وأنّه عند “تعلمك” ستشعر بإنجازٍ أكبر وستتحفز على المضي قدمًا، ليست الاختبارات محور الحياة، ولم تكن أبدًا محور الحياة، نحنُ نتعلم كي نصير أكثر نضجًا وأكثر إبداعًا ونستزيد من المعارف ما ينفعنا. افتح لنفسك المجال وستجدُ أنّك تطير في سماء العلوم وتسبح في بحار المعارف، تخلّص من القيود التي تفرضها على نفسك وسر نحو حرية التخيل والتطبيق

يحدثُ أحيانًا أننا نتكاسل أو نمر في ظروفٍ سيئة تؤثر على أدائنا، ولا يعني هذا أن نتقاعس بل أن نسعى أكثر ونبذل جهدًا أكبر. لا تسمح لنفسك بالوقوع في حيلة “لقد فات الأوان، فأنا تأخرتُ كثيرًا عن زملائي”. حدد المشكلة وانهض، عد إلى السباق، لم يُطلقوا الصفارة بعد

.تعثرت؟ اركض

. اذهب إلى المكتبة واشترِ ألوانًا مبهجة ودفتر ملاحظاتٍ لاصقة  – هذا حلٌّ سحريٌّ مجرّب، فهي كالحلوى تُزيّن الكتب وتجعلك تأكلها

!هذه حياةٌ واحدة وفرصةٌ واحدة: اغتنمها واستمتع في الرحلة

إن شعرتَ أنّك بحاجةٍ إلى المساعدة في التخطيط وتجهيز جدول الدراسة أو العمل يُمكنك التواصل معنا عبر صفحة الفيسبوك أو الإيميل، سنساعدك في اختيار أولوياتك وسنقدم لك النصائح التي من شأنها مساعدتك في الحصول على أفضل النتائج

!ندعو أن يكون لهذا التغيير أثرٌ إيجابي في حياتك

(lexicongaza@gmail.com)

 

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Back to School? Keep the Fun Going!

 

f6798e00995ad37a57f47fef0576ddd5--teacher-humour-teacher-stuff             VS.download

It is the beginning of a new school year!

We all feel excited when we are about to start doing something, but we, almost always, feel numb during the work itself. Are there any tips that could help us keep the excitement?

Yes!

While so many students believe that this could be like any other semester, when they begin happily and work hard but soon after start feeling bored; this could be your chance to begin fresh – and KEEP THE FUN GOING.

First of all, you need to set yourself some real goals. Such goals should not be like: “I need to be on top”, or “I need to get the highest grades”. A simple “I want to have fun” or “I want to enjoy what I am learning” can be way more effective. Why? Remember that it is the climb that matters and not the top itself. At work or some years after graduation, your moments of high grades will only last a while. However, the memories, the fun, the learning, the excitement; those are the things that will linger in your heart forever. The benefits will, of course, be greater.

When you learn -and not just study, you will feel more accomplished thus more enthusiastic about moving forward. It is not about tests; it is never about tests. It is about becoming a better person, more knowledgeable and more creative. You can do whatever you want if you allow your mind to go beyond the here and now. Let your thoughts break the cage of onlys and rush towards the freedom of everys.

If you are behind your classmates for whatever reason, work harder not less. Realize that you have fallen and that it is time to get up and get back on track. Do not let yourself be fooled by “it’s too late; I am already behind”. If anyone can do it, it is YOU!

Go to the bookstore. Buy some cool pens and sticky notes (think of it as dessert. It always works).

You only live once. Enjoy your ride!

If you need more help planning your time and schedule, you can contact us on our Facebook page or email (lexicongaza.com). We will help you set your priorities and offer you the advice you need to keep going.

May this be the year change serves you well!

 

 

At Least i Tried

https://soundcloud.com/nour-osama-el-borno/at-least-i-tried

It could be dark when it is early in the morning

Because sunlight never always tells the truth.

Our hearts wander in the shades of our hopes

As we wonder why we have been waiting for so long.

I hear your voice from a childish memory

When we tried to reach the sky of our dreams.

I remember the first step I made

Towards those playful arms –

I remember spinning around

And falling a few times.

There was always hope

In the middle of the dark;

There was always fear

In the middle of the day –

And it was then I knew

That nothing was what it seemed to be.

I fell and crawled a thousand miles

I tried to climb the mountains that kept us apart

I tried to sail the seas of the world

I always ended up in my room

Looking at the sky of our dreams.

It was nothing more than a wish

I knew would never come to me.

A Little More than Ours, and Less than a House

My grandmother’s house is going to be demolished so that a new life would be built there.

When we were told that they will open the family house for a final visit before the actual destruction of the house, my heart pounded so fast and almost ripped my cage apart. I did not know how I was supposed to feel. I did not know what I was supposed to say. All I wanted to do was to go there and walk through the same door – one more time, one last time.

I thought that if I go inside, I will see my grandmother sitting to the left, where her favorite couch lies. I looked, I looked so closely, but she was not there. It was a ripped couch that looked nothing like hers. I kept walking hoping she would be in the kitchen, where she cooked us delicious meals and made us yummy juice. She was not there, either. I thought she would be in her room. But that deserted room with no furniture and big heaps of dust was not hers.

I thought I would hold my tears. Because I am an adult and there were children there, my nephews and younger cousins. I closed my eyes and tried to recall the details. I wanted to feel ‘whole’ again.

That house meant everything to me, my siblings and cousins. We used to meet there regularly. We used to be children, burden-free, thoughts-free, pain-free. We were the kids. We were those creatures who had nothing to think about.

That was a long time ago.

Now we are the adults. Now we have to bear the feeling of a final farewell.

My grandmother’s house was not just a house. It had big arms that embraced so many memories, laughs, cries, hellos and farewells. That house made us one big family that loved each other and stayed together.

My grandmother died around 6 years ago, but knowing that the house will go down too makes it feel like her death is happening all over again. This time we won’t have anything solid to remind us of who we were as children, of our grandmother.

When we all went to visit the house and say goodbye, I believe the house was saying goodbye to us as well.

It was the house where our mothers lived; the house where our mothers built their memories – it was the house where our memories began.

The house will be down soon. It will disappear. We, too, will die eventually. But it has been a wonderful ride.

Some years are left for us – I hope this ride will end well, too.

And maybe – maybe, the grandchildren of today will live after us to write about us and their memories with us as well.

We left the house, but the house will always be a part of who we are. It will always be where our hearts hide, and our souls seek refuge.

الله يرحمك يا ستّي، ويجمعنا فيكِ عن قريب

ظلامُ الليلِ لن يطول

في غُرفةٍ مظلمة تتساقط علينا الذكريات المؤلمة كخريفٍ لا يُريد المضي قدمًا، يعتصرُ قلوبنا الألم ويتلاشى فينا الأمل، فمن منا لم يشعر بعدم الانتماء؟ وأنّ الأرض بما رحبت قد ضاقت في صدره؟ كم شعرنا بالحاجة المُلحّة للهروب من العالم الذي يُحاصرنا – والهروب من أنفسنا. تراكمَ في فؤادنا الجرحُ ولم نجد بلسمنا بعد، تكدست في ذاكرتنا المواجع  وصارت الصباحات مبعث حزنٍ وأسى. نسيرُ بين الآخرين وابتسامتنا مرسومة على شفاهنا ولكن ما بالصدر لم يُصدّق كذبتنا، نرتدي قناع السرورِ ويخفي بدوره الصدأ

إلى متى؟ نسألُ أنفسنا كلّما عادت إلينا الروح في كل صباح، إلى متى سنظل هكذا؟ يحتوينا اليأس، ولم نَعُد نُعِد لمعاركنا العتاد اللازم، هذه العتمة التي اجتاحت صدورنا – العتمة التي لم تعد تُفارقنا علينا مُحاربتها، وقتالها شرّ قتال، عليها أن تعي أن ليس لها بين أضلعنا مكانٌ، وأنّ الجراح الماضية ما هي إلا نوافذ نورٍ شقّت طريقها إلى روحنا. ليس العيبُ في الانكسار – يا صاحبي- فالكل ينكسر، وليس العيب في الوقوع فالكل يقع، وليس العيب في عدم القدرة على الوقوف فليس للكل قوة كافية تُساعده على النهوض – العيب يا صديقي أننا لا نحاول

وقعنا في البئر واستسلمنا لواقعنا البائس، نحن بصحةٍ جيدة ولكننا ما عدنا نحاول الوقوف، ظننا أن الظلام أقوى منّا فتوقفنا عن المحاولة، ابتلعتنا مآسينا وتهنا فيها وغرقنا ونحن نعرف السباحة حق معرفة، ولكننا وجدنا الاستسلام أسهل، والجلوس أيسر. هذه الحلول مؤقتة، لا تُسمن ولا تُغني من جوع، بل هي تقتات علينا وعلى روحنا، هذه ليست الطريقة الأمثل، هذه الطريق المختصرة التي سارت بها “ليلى” وانتهى بها المطاف في بطن الذئب. نحن أقوى من ذلك، نحن أعقل من ذلك، ليس كل طريقٍ مُختصر يبدو عليه السهولة سهلًا، فكم من طريق طويل محفوف بالمكاره يُوصلنا إلى وجهتنا وإلى راحتنا. صحيحٌ أنّ الوحدة في المعاركِ تكون لنا عدوًّا ولكننا إن شئنا حوّلناها صديقًا يُسندنا فنتكئُ عليه، إذا لم نجد من يمد لنا يدَ العون فأيدينا تُعيننا – والله يُقوّينا- وإن لم نجد من يُخبرنا أنّه يحبنا فنحن نُحب أنفسنا، وإن لم نجد من يستحق النهوض من أجله – المحاولة – فنحنُ نستحق أن نفعل ذلك من أجلــنا

لا يقوى الظلام على الدخول إذا كان النور موجودا بل ينحني منكسرًا إذا رأى نورًا في المكان المرجو، لا تُطفئ نوركَ بنفسك، ولا تنهزم دون أن تُحاول، ولا تيأس من صعوبة النهوض، ولا تخف. أنتَ لستَ وحدك، كثر هم الذين كسرتهم الدنيا، أنت لستَ وحدك، أنا معك

Love –

It has been a long time since I have felt passionate about writing and poetry and all other types of literature that used to make me feel – something. I was looking at my nephews today and it hit me so hard how much I loved them. I loved them so dearly and so deeply. I love them so dearly and deeply.

The love a mother has for her child, a friend for her bestie, a kid for his favorite toy, a fish for her favorite smaller fish; but the last ends up eaten usually.

Love is a blessing, a beautiful melody that is halal to listen to. It is natural and sweet. Although there are thousands of types of love, coming in different forms and sounds; they all end up the same: serenity, condolences, a pat on the beats of the heart and numbness.

I have not tried all tastes of love, and perhaps I have not tasted one of the most necessary ones. However, every time I walk out of my house and see a little boy or a little girl squashing their dads’ hands with their small fingers – and sometimes painful nails – I feel that love; I feel how it runs so deep and I get infected by the happiness their eyes splash as they cross the street or walk to a supermarket.

One cannot identify what love is because love is a lot of things. One, though, can list some of what love is not. Love is not about being perfect and standing next to another perfect person. Love is not about being consumed by the love you give. Love is not about being taken for granted by your friends or family. It is a shared emotion, a safe island for wandering souls. It is a place where one can go for comfort when life has gone too dark. It is a cozy cottage with a fireplace that is burning – making the cold hearts warm.

It is a hot cup of chocolate on a late winter night. It is a cold cone of ice-cream on a 12-pm-summer-afternoon. It is the last leaf of autumn and the first petal of spring. It is what makes life easy when life is hard like coconuts (I would not say hell).

I was at the bank today. I saw a lot of people standing in lines. I imagined every single one of them, me included, when we were children. When our parents were at the banks and we were at home enjoying the new dolls and toys, and nagging about how we want new clothes. I remembered how as children we felt angry when our parents came home toyless and dolless and new-clothesless. I saw tired old men. I saw tired old women. All of them standing in there waiting for their payments. Nothing – nothing in the world could make a person stand in a long line except for love. Except for the beautiful “thank you, mama or dada or grandpa or grandma or auntie or uncle and the list goes on”.

Love makes life easier because it is not restricted, and not limited. Love has been given to us so that we would not have to ride alone, so that we would not have to endure the scars without an internal healing process. We were given love because it is a second chance, and the second wing that allows a baby bird to fly.

It is the only way one can move forward.

With Love,

Nour ElBorno.

Aging Reflections

I passed by a man

I knew, as a kid,

And was young back then.

He had few grey hairs

And a deep stare.

I tried to draw near

To see the lines’ shape,

But I stepped back in fear;

What if I saw mine instead?

I looked at the glass,

And saw a reflection of an old man.

I was afraid to remember

How I looked as a child;

I am so much different:

Body and soul and mind.

And here I think

For the first time:

I knew for sure

That I grew too old.

I saw myself aging through

The eyes of another man

Because we never really know

Until we see the wrinkles

On someone else’s hands.