In debt with the Universe.
If you have looked at my Instagram, you’d think that my life is in a realm of paradise — and in many ways, it is – and I express that gratitude – every chance I get.
No, I am not rich (yet) – but I am very rich in experience and heart – and that’s when I have to take a step back and acknowledge that this wealth I’ve worked hard for – and also have received, needs to be shared.
Nothing is more important than our testimonies.
Right now, in life, I am not doing exactly what I want to be doing – and that’s okay, I’m young and there is a ladder to success which I am focusing on climbing.
I just feel that I am in debt with the universe.
One of the most monumental moments of my life was escaping Iraq with my family, living on a refugee camp and finally making it to the United States.
My first childhood memory was war, my second was escaping and surviving.
Many people do not get that opportunity – and at times, when I am having a blast on a vacation, I get struck with the thought that I shouldn’t be having this much fun – I owe it to this world, to give back.
I once lived a very godless life – as many people do in their early years of adulthood – and through work, traveling, college, social networks and life experiences – I’ve learned how important it is to create a spiritual connection with the universe (God, Jesus, Allah, Buddah, whatever you believe in – ill respect it).
I am not in the position to give. In the past, I would give when I barely had anything on my plate – and as my friend and the infamous photographer @CarlosImani once told me: “If you’re at the bottom of a mountain but you keep helping other people up, you’ll never get to the top.” And, essentially, you need to be at the top to give (at least in the way I want to).
Like I said, I am no saint. I’ve lived in ignorance, hate – hell. I’ve lived an empty life. I’ve lived a glorious life. I’ve lived many lives, as if I am a cat, and I can finally say I’m becoming wiser. (Hence why I refuse to pull out that one grey hair that’s growing out of my scalp – people keep pulling it out, and I get highly offended; grey hairs show wisdom!!)
But, anyways, life is very karmaic – and I’m constantly being reminded that I can no longer live like a piece of shit – or in essence, constantly thinking about myself and not holding myself accountable for hurting those around me.
I still make so many mistakes – but the way that I am trying to live now is: ‘How are my actions, words, lifestyle effecting future generations?”
The truth of the matter is, you can’t get people who don’t care; to care. So, we have to start with influencing the youth in a better way.
I don’t exactly know how I plan to create this path where I can make a living off of helping people, but I do love writing – and I believe, if I can get through to a few people, my personal experiences, can create a more empathetic community.
During the week of the 4th of July, I was taking the wrong bus (I am a little challenged when it comes to taking directions, lol!) – I got really lucky and realized the last stop was at this cemetery in Brooklyn, ha! (I’m being sarcastic, get used to my dry humor).
It was a nice day so I decided to just walk to my destination, but as I was walking I viewed the tombstones of each person that passed.
Two stuck out to me: one stone said Trey and the other said My Mother.
Why – you may ask those two things stuck out to me?
Well, two memorial days ago I happened to be in the same room as Trey Songz and he had a random burst of anger that he took out on a friend and I. It was pretty comical because I don’t put celebrities on a pedestal – And look, I’ll forgive him because he’s a Sagittarius and you guys really can fly off the handle – but I can’t listen to his music anymore without feeling betrayed (I used to love his music, but I had to cross off ‘One Love’ off of songs that would be played at my wedding) – P.S: I’m a Scorpio, so I’ll hold that grudge forever until he apologizes. Haha!
Oops, tangent – getting back to it. The tombstone that said “My Mother” kind of hit a chord with me – like it would with anyone else, we all love our moms, right?
But what Trey and My Mother – and all what I am writing about has to do with my point – is that my mother, an Iraqi immigrant who lost her family and country – used to take me to the veteran’s cemetery every Memorial Day weekend.
She wouldn’t tell me why she was taking me, typical Pisces (They never talk, but at any given situation they somehow make things so profound) – and she’d be like: “Look, Lavie, these are the people that died for us to be here.”
And we did that, every Memorial Day, until I turned into a rightfully so, selfish, 20-something year old. And I say ‘rightfully so’ because you should be a little selfish when you enter that age group.
But the beauty in all of this is I had a few realizations – one, that I finally had forgiven Trey Songz (because I really wouldn’t want him to die anytime soon – I see him speaking out on racial issues on social media – and we need that, I respect.) Second, that my mother is the smartest-most empathetic woman on earth – and three, I need to get more serious about what direction I need to take in my life.
So, that’s what I am working on. I am working on a better me – so that the world can be a better place. I realize, I can’t stop wars, I can’t afford to feed the hungry – I can’t get people who don’t care; to care.
But if I can continuously make an effort, each day, to be a better person; I can only hope that this energy will be infectious … or at least attract the right people or opportunities to come my way.