1.0عائلة روكاhttps://www.theroccafamily.net/entheroccafamilyhttps://www.theroccafamily.net/en/author/theroccafamily_4va07l/rich600338<blockquote class="wp-embedded-content" data-secret="NKgyI8ZYcx"><a href="https://www.theroccafamily.net/en/note-33-i-forgive-myself/">note # 33: I forgive myself</a></blockquote><iframe sandbox="allow-scripts" security="restricted" src="https://www.theroccafamily.net/en/note-33-i-forgive-myself/embed/#?secret=NKgyI8ZYcx" width="600" height="338" title="“note # 33: I forgive myself” — عائلة روكا" data-secret="NKgyI8ZYcx" frameborder="0" marginwidth="0" marginheight="0" scrolling="no" class="wp-embedded-content"></iframe><script> /*! This file is auto-generated */ !function(d,l){"use strict";l.querySelector&&d.addEventListener&&"undefined"!=typeof URL&&(d.wp=d.wp||{},d.wp.receiveEmbedMessage||(d.wp.receiveEmbedMessage=function(e){var t=e.data;if((t||t.secret||t.message||t.value)&&!/[^a-zA-Z0-9]/.test(t.secret)){for(var s,r,n,a=l.querySelectorAll('iframe[data-secret="'+t.secret+'"]'),o=l.querySelectorAll('blockquote[data-secret="'+t.secret+'"]'),c=new RegExp("^https?:$","i"),i=0;i<o.length;i++)o[i].style.display="none";for(i=0;i<a.length;i++)s=a[i],e.source===s.contentWindow&&(s.removeAttribute("style"),"height"===t.message?(1e3<(r=parseInt(t.value,10))?r=1e3:~~r<200&&(r=200),s.height=r):"link"===t.message&&(r=new URL(s.getAttribute("src")),n=new URL(t.value),c.test(n.protocol))&&n.host===r.host&&l.activeElement===s&&(d.top.location.href=t.value))}},d.addEventListener("message",d.wp.receiveEmbedMessage,!1),l.addEventListener("DOMContentLoaded",function(){for(var e,t,s=l.querySelectorAll("iframe.wp-embedded-content"),r=0;r<s.length;r++)(t=(e=s[r]).getAttribute("data-secret"))||(t=Math.random().toString(36).substring(2,12),e.src+="#?secret="+t,e.setAttribute("data-secret",t)),e.contentWindow.postMessage({message:"ready",secret:t},"*")},!1)))}(window,document); //# sourceURL=https://www.theroccafamily.net/wp-includes/js/wp-embed.min.js </script>https://www.theroccafamily.net/wp-content/uploads/2023/10/944493_232b3b001c024aa28513109ddc52c9fcmv2.jpg1243920Why can i not be in the moment? Being in the moment, it is a practice that needs practice. I opened the bedroom-balcony door wide open despite the rushing winds and the cold. I wanted to feel as outside as possible from my bed. And i wanted as much sun as possible to come in through the clouds and between the rains and across the Puget sound. As soon as the confident sun walked into the room, I left. I needed to be drinking coffee with this moment. I could not stop myself. I had to have coffee in bed while the sun shone through. I knew going to make the nagging cup of coffee that I might miss the sun entirely. Waiting for the coffee to boil, my head voices repeating why can you not live in the moment? Why can you not bloody fucking hell just live in the fucking moment? And then I see the deer. I have been waiting for him for days (since the time I saw him and did not live the moment and got too excited and wanted everything out of that experience: I called for Ola too loud and reached for my phone too fast and the deer ran and Ola hurt her arm. If only I had just surrendered to the moment and watched it looking for apples or something under the tree in the front yard, I had just told Alma the night before that our spot was great but not where deer came through. Wrong!). There he was, under the tree. Why he? Because deer in Arabic is a male noun غزال and not like a cat who is she but rather like a dog who is he. And I decided to experience the moment. He moved a little, I wondered if he had eaten any of the apples I had left for him, licked his side, looked this way and that, I sipped the coffee looking at the deer through the window, for a minute or two until I prayed for its safety when it crossed the street and he was gone. So was the sun. I am not closing the balcony door just in case she (the sun is female) chose to visit. * Best quotes from a conversation with neighbors in Bakersville, NC “If he does become a dictator, we will fight him, the American people is the biggest army on earth.” “Britain is to blame for it all.” “Of course i have a gun. If a person comes to my house and knocks at my door and i ask who is it and they do not answer i will shoot him, of course i will.” (“But, but what if he was deaf? Or just could not speak English?” I suggest) “Truth is, I cannot even understand what people around here are saying half the time.” “Have another beer.” (sure.) * Camp adventures Jumana gave me a camping workshop in her backyard in Oakland before i left to the road trip. I got a refresher from Linda in Grosse Point Park and she gave us her tent and a sleeping bag ++. Our first camping experience, a spot by the water in the Everglades in February or was it March? Tobias gave us his mosquito shirts and they sure were useful against the attack of the nasty mosquitoes. We set up camp, tent and all, but the spot did not feel right, it was not as pretty as the pictures. Then, just at sunset, we found the right spot, the beautiful spot by the water. We had but ten minutes to break and set camp. Tent folded with the our gear in it stuffed rolled up and held outside the window, most doors still open we quickly shoved everything in and miraculously, challenging physics, we made it. Over the period of a year, Ola and i camped a total of one night and i barely slept. We were meant to camp for two but a storm came and we evacuated. * Did it ever happen? I am not sure how and why we found ourselves in the car driving up to the Roan Mountain tip during a snowstorm. As if we were unable to go against a pull, a pull to the top through a snow blizzard. There was silence and white and wind and cold and we continued upward. It was also really hard to make a u-turn. At Carver’s Gap, Suad and Ola stepped out of the car while I stayed at the wheel, turned around, picked them up after they got a 30-second kick and went back home. The trip has acquired, as early as during it, a sense of magic and nonsense and fiction. Like a dream or simply an act of folly. After this trip Suad no longer asked why we did not go for longer walks. 1) walks are subject to the availability of publicly accessible land (or be gunned down for trespassing), 2) it was fucking freezing. I am happy to revisit my love here, The Roan Mountain https://www.roccafamily.org/single-post/2017/04/10/note-12-goodbye-my-love * The curse of a grilled freshly caught octopus on a Greek island After you have experienced that: a fuss free dinner of freshly caught and simply cooked seafood and a drink and a smoke exactly by the water, very few experiences will ever match up to it. Searching for a no-fuss place by the water to eat something from the same water has proved near impossible. Not when we were in California and nowhere along the Pacific Coast. Ola had high hopes for Oysterville, WA. Hopes based on the suggestions of its name. We drove through it until we double, triple, quadruple checked that the town indeed was closed. The whole place, for the season, for ever, I am not sure. The best near to Greek island magic was buying shrimp and fish off the boat. Looks like this boat tours the islands and docks for a couple