What a day and it has only just begun. That is a song but not the song on my mind. This one will surprise you, it certainly surprised me. It is If Ever I Would Leave You. It is SO romantic. However, as usual, I am not thinking about a guy, this time a country, actually, a hotel.
If ever I would leave you, it wouldn’t be in summer
Seeing you in summer, I never would go
Your hair streaked with sunlight, your lips red as flame
Your face with a luster that puts gold to shame
But if I’d ever leave you, how could it be in autumn
How I’d leave in autumn, I never would know
I’ve seen how you sparkle when fall nips the air
I know you in autumn and I must be there
And could I leave you
Running merrily through the snow
Or on a wintry evening
When you catch the fire’s glow
If ever I would leave you, how could it be in springtime
Knowing how in spring I’m bewitched by you so
Oh, no, not in springtime, summer, winter, or fall
No, never could I leave you at all
If ever I would leave you, how could it be in springtime
Knowing how in spring I’m bewitched by you so
Oh, no, not in springtime, summer, winter, or fall
No, never could I leave you at all
Please go to YouTube and listen to one of the many renditions of this song, sung by so many men. My favorite is Robert Goulet – for many reasons, – one of which is that he is a Canadian. Canadians are always ecstatic when their countrymen/women are famous. I do have some Canadian characteristics – thankfully only a few.
I do have to admit that it is unusual to be singing a romantic song to a Malaysian hotel. Most unusual – for one thing, as was pointed out to me by a Malaysian Lexis Suites guest.
He: Malaysia is a great country. There are no seasons – every day is pretty much like same as the last day.
Me: I know!! Most of my life I have lived in “No Seasons”. Marin County California does not have seasons. Like here in Penang – more rain in ‘winter’ but pretty much the same.
So I guess the song came to mind because I feel at this moment that I could never leave here. Of course visit other places, other countries. But this would be my ‘home base’. I have laughed with so many people today – people from other countries. A lovely young woman from India for example, visiting with her husband. She was a captive, waiting for check in time in the lobby.
We had the best time.
Me: It is so strange. I absolutely love this country. If anyone would have told me I would see Malaysia as my home – even eight years ago – I would have told them they were crazy. “ You are out of your mind, I do not even know where Malaysia is!”
I did have (shall we say) a Malaysian encounter in 2017. I remember my dear departed friend Lynne saying: “Malaysia is so corrupt.” I believed her at the time, how did I know.? Come to think of it, how did she know as she was a recluse, hardly ever left her New Westminster, British Columbia, Canada home. She was proud of it. She was a children’s librarian but after she retired she just excused herself from the world around her. I seldom saw her during my two year stay in Vancouver. I would travel to visit her on the Skytrain. Malaysia is NOTY corrupt Lynne, quite the opposite actually.
Back to me and my Malaysian identity. I have gone through many internal changes in the last few day. I view the world differently, view people around me differently, my role in this troubled world differently. Not sure WHY. It was not any one event, not any one person, not any one insight, not any one conversation. It had to be confluence of all past, present and future events to affect a transmogrification. Obviously what is needed at this moment is a definition of words. You may not need them, but I do. Hahaha
Confluence is the act or process of merging. The origin of the word supplies greater meaning: late Middle English: from late Latin confluentia, from Latin confluere ‘flow together.
Transmogrification means to transform in a surprising or magical manner. Transmogrify can also refer to Transmogrification, the act or process of being transformed into a different form OR Transmogrifier, a device in the Calvin and Hobbes universe that transforms its user into any desired creature or item
We are NOT talking about the Calvin and Hobbes Transmogrifier (by the way).
First, and foremost, I have decided this: I am not going to save the world. My September 12, 2024 blog was pivotal. Sent a WhatsApp text
Me: I just read the blog I that was posted on the Internet. It was powerful. I do not have to do anything else in this world after I did that. It is true. It is absolutely great, if I do say so myself. It was you who made it all possible. You listened to me, believed in me. Saying to me it was a responsibility – I remembered burden. Then when had another conversation you gently corrected me. Anyway I am going to start living my life, to the fullest. We will talk about it tomorrow.
Some relief from self imposted tasks had been putting myself through. But then along came sciatica. Oh my goodness the pain, at times I could barely walk. What did I do? Went to Lex Spa – Amy and Mira effected a cure with a two hour massage accompanied by much laughter. I laughed so hard I wet myself. Fortunately was wearing their disposable panties – replaced the wet ones with a dry pair. I danced out of Lex Spa. There will be a reel to prove it.
Prior to the sciatic distraction I had decided to return to the World of Ideas both on the blog and in real life. I have begun listening to podcasts from different countries to get a different perspective on the world. These have included Guardian podcasts, and Ideas (a Canadian Broadcast production). Listened to one which provided the back story to Trump’s ridiculous diatribe about Haitians earring cats and dogs in Springfield, Iowa. It was enlightening, fascinating and horribly depressing. It made me SO happy I escaped the United States of American. I have not been listening to podcasts for years, although they were a daily habit, usually listened to on long walks. Ideas tickle my brain, I love to have my brain tickled. .
This is another enormous change in my mind set. I feel a tremendous burden/responsibility in respect to Saudi Arabia and the Holy Sights. I have come to the conclusion that I am unable to save the Holy Sights of Mecca (Makkah) and Medina (Medinah) from destruction. Greed, evil and corruption has put the racking ball all over the precious ground where the Prophet (PBUH) and his family lived. I will speak of it at some point but not let the negativity, pessimism and hopelessness contaminate the hope and optimism found in my blog, and within me. I have an idea of how to do it.
. Recently thought of the expression Renaissance Man. Renaissance men could and did many things. I can do a lot of things here in peaceful, prosperous Malaysia I shall have the chance to do so – and in the process perhaps make a difference. This world needs a Renaissance Woman. More about that later.
This embryonic Renaissance woman also has basic needs which only Penang Lexis Suites can provide. This a WhatsApp conversation.
Me: I need a hug.
Elephant Man: OK Ms. No Problem
Me: When are you working?
Elephant Man: 2-10
Me: Okay. Get out our elephant man costume I am on my way down.
I got on the elevator, went to the 8th floor and got a hug from the Elephant Man. Took pictures which you shall see and a reel with a story line . I am now a movie star. Renaissance Men were not movie stars. I am on my way. Hahaha
So you see why I could never leave Lexis Suites, not in summer, winter, fall or spring. I get sciatica, I go to Lex Spa. I need a hug, I call on Elephant Man. I have fascinating conversations with guests from different countries, different cultures. The views from this hotel are stunning and surprising. The view from the Roselle window is of a rundown shack surrounded by trees. Very unlikely, as are Elephant Man hugs, and the dance of sciatica free pain.
Then this. A woman and her young son came to say goodbye as they were leaving after a three day stay. Her son, lifted my hand to his lips and kissed it. This treasured gesture is repeated almost daily.
Me: Oh my goodness, thank you, I feel so special and so treasured. I once said to a London man who kissed my hand. “I will never wash in memory of this kiss.
Of course I did. These days I am purifying my hands before prayer five times a day. Later, after leaving London the beloved man who kissed my hand, told me he was a Muslim. This is so strange, little Muslim boys kissing my hand reminds me of Dinham, the love of my life in many ways. Perhaps we will meet in Jannah. It does indeed motivate me to continue in the Way of Ease.
