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“When I got home that night as my wife served
dinner, I held her hand and said, I’ve got
something to tell you. She sat down and ate
quietly. Again I observed the hurt in her eyes.
Suddenly I didn’t know how to open my mouth.
But I hdidn’t let her know what I was thinking. I
want a divorce. I raised the topic calmly. She didn’t
seem to be annoyed by my words, instead she
asked me softly, why?
I avoided her question. This made her angry. She
threw away the chopsticks and shouted at me, you
are not a man! That night, we didn’t talk to each
other. She was weeping. I knew she wanted to find
out what had happened to our marriage. But I
could hardly give her a satisfactory answer; she
had lost my heart to Jane. I didn’t love her
anymore. I just pitied her!
With a deep sense of guilt, I drafted a divorce
agreement which stated that she could own our
house, our car, and 30% stake of my company. She
glanced at it and then tore it into pieces. The
woman who had spent ten years of her life with me
had become a stranger. I felt sorry for her wasted
time, resources and energy but I could not take
back what I had said for I loved Jane so dearly.
Finally she cried loudly in front of me, which was
what I had expected to see. To me her cry was
actually a kind of release. The idea of divorce which
had obsessed me for several weeks seemed to be
firmer and clearer now.
The next day, I came back home very late and
found her writing something at the table. I didn’t
have supper but went straight to sleep and fell
asleep very fast because I was tired after an
eventful day with Jane. When I woke up, she was
still there at the table writing. I just did not care so
I turned over and was asleep again.
In the morning she presented her divorce
conditions: she didn’t want anything from me, but
needed a month’s notice before the divorce. She
requested that in that one month we both struggle
to live as normal a life as possible. Her reasons were
simple: our son had his exams in a month’s time
and she didn’t want to disrupt him with our broken
This was agreeable to me. But she had something
more, she asked me to recall how I had carried her
into out bridal room on our wedding day. She
requested that every day for the month’s duration I
carry her out of our bedroom to the front door ever
morning. I thought she was going crazy. Just to
make our last days together bearable I accepted
her odd request.
I told Jane about my wife’s divorce conditions. .
She laughed loudly and thought it was absurd. No
matter what tricks she applies, she has to face the
divorce, she said scornfully.
My wife and I hadn’t had any body contact since
my divorce intention was explicitly expressed. So
when I carried her out on the first day, we both
appeared clumsy. Our son clapped behind us,
daddy is holding mommy in his arms. His words
brought me a sense of pain. From the bedroom to
the sitting room, then to the door, I walked over
ten meters with her in my arms. She closed her
eyes and said softly; don’t tell our son about the
divorce. I nodded, feeling somewhat upset. I put
her down outside the door. She went to wait for the
bus to work. I drove alone to the office.
On the second day, both of us acted much more
easily. She leaned on my chest. I could smell the
fragrance of her blouse. I realized that I hadn’t
looked at this woman carefully for a long time. I
realized she was not young any more. There were
fine wrinkles on her face, her hair was graying! Our
marriage had taken its toll on her. For a minute I
wondered what I had done to her.
On the fourth day, when I lifted her up, I felt a
sense of intimacy returning. This was the woman
who had given ten years of her life to me. On the
fifth and sixth day, I realized that our sense of
intimacy was growing again. I didn’t tell Jane about
this. It became easier to carry her as the month
slipped by. Perhaps the everyday workout made
me stronger.
She was choosing what to wear one morning. She
tried on quite a few dresses but could not find a
suitable one. Then she sighed, all my dresses have
grown bigger. I suddenly realized that she had
grown so thin, that was the reason why I could
carry her more easily.
Suddenly it hit me… she had buried so much pain
and bitterness in her heart. Subconsciously I
reached out and touched her head.
Our son came in at the moment and said, Dad, it’s
time to carry mom out. To him, seeing his father
carrying his mother out had become an essential
part of his life. My wife gestured to our son to come
closer and hugged him tightly. I turned my face
away because I was afraid I might change my mind
at this last minute. I then held her in my arms,
walking from the bedroom, through the sitting
room, to the hallway. Her hand surrounded my
neck softly and naturally. I held her body tightly; it
was just like our wedding day.
But her much lighter weight made me sad. On the
last day, when I held her in my arms I could hardly
move a step. Our son had gone to school. I held her
tightly and said, I hadn’t noticed that our life
lacked intimacy. I drove to office…. jumped out of
the car swiftly without locking the door. I was afraid
any delay would make me change my mind…I
walked upstairs. Jane opened the door and I said to
her, Sorry, Jane, I do not want the divorce
She looked at me, astonished, and then touched
my forehead. Do you have a fever? She said. I
moved her hand off my head. Sorry, Jane, I said, I
won’t divorce. My marriage life was boring probably
because she and I didn’t value the details of our
lives, not because we didn’t love each other
anymore. Now I realize that since I carried her into
my home on our wedding day I am supposed to
hold her until death do us apart. Jane seemed to
suddenly wake up. She gave me a loud slap and
then slammed the door and burst into tears. I
walked downstairs and drove away. At the floral
shop on the way, I ordered a bouquet of flowers for
my wife. The salesgirl asked me what to write on
the card. I smiled and wrote, I’ll carry you out
every morning until death do us apart.
That evening I arrived home, flowers in my hands,
a smile on my face, I run up stairs, only to find my
wife in the bed -dead. My wife had been fighting
CANCER for months and I was so busy with Jane to
even notice. She knew that she would die soon and
she wanted to save me from the whatever negative
reaction from our son, in case we push through
with the divorce.— At least, in the eyes of our son
—- I’m a loving husband….
The small details of your lives are what really matter
in a relationship. It is not the mansion, the car,
property, the money in the bank. These create an
environment conducive for happiness but cannot
give happiness in themselves.
So find time to be your spouse’s friend and do
those little things for each other that build
intimacy. If you are not in a relationship now,
remember this for the second (or third) time
around. It’s never too late.


Credit to whoever wrote this. I just found it to be worthy of sharing.



“Twenty years f…


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“Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things that you didn’t do than by the ones you did do. So throw off the bowlines. Sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover.” –

When can you say “I am a blogger” Part 1


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After a few years on the internet and following blogs across many web platforms, it has come to my attention that many out there still believe it takes more than just calling yourself a blogger.

Here are three remarks:

I do not believe that you have to post everyday or even every week. You don’t have to make money with your blog. And you don’t have to become “internet famous” before you can say that you’re a blogger. You don’t have to have a blog as a business to be a blogger.

I think you are a blogger because you create content consistently across micro- and macro-blogging platforms, but more importantly, others think of you as a blogger. To me that’s the litmus test. If my peers consider me a blogger, then I am. If they don’t, then I’m not, even though I may like to think I am.

I think you can call yourself a blogger, when you have followers that frequently read and react to your posts.


My final analysis, just as you cannot call yourself fat or thin, we let people decide. Continue writing pieces from the heart, you do not have to be politically right, after all, it is your blog. As you continue doing this, people will have their opinions and criticize your work but what other better way of learning than than?

Are you getting followers daily, Comments and Analytics growing? If that is so than perfect. After all, a blogger by word definition is a person that keeps & updates a blog or number of blogs.

I have noticed a few great bloggers using platforms like Seesmic Web and Hootsuite, this integrates websites like Facebook, Twitter, LinkedIn and Google plus. This are your ideas, share them. I am not into Philosophy but I found this to be of great encouragement. Here: First comes thought; then organization of that thought, into ideas and plans; then transformation of those plans into reality. The beginning, as you will observe, is in your imagination. Napoleon Hill


Walvis Bay Lagoon


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Walvis Bay Lagoon

Time and again I walk down memory lane with the number of breathtaking sunsets I have managed to witness over a Bench and coffee. Walvis Bay, located on the coast of Namibia is a harbour town that has about 85000 souls, named after the Bay its on, it is also a tourist attraction for the many across Africa.

The long lagoon, the fresh smell of snails, dead sea weeds and bird droppings becomes a mystery that even the neat appreciate. German restaurants on the lagoon serve the best burgers, coffee and seafood, from where I stand, this is a place you ought to check out. Let me know how events turn out.


The 10 Very Best Zen Stories For Travelers


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The 10 Very Best Zen Stories For Travelers

An interesting article by:

Ian MacKenzie is the founder and former editor of Brave New Traveler. He is Head of Video at Matador Network. Ian is also an independent filmmaker, with his first feature (One Week Job) released in 2010. His more recent projects include Sacred Economics and Occupy Love.