According to my Japanese class sensei, the paper tsuru or crane is a symbol of hope, luck – or blessing in my case, because I don’t believe in sheer luck – and perseverance. In today’s class, we folded three origami tsuru, as if to represent each layered meaning. I chose mine to be in midori (green), murasaki (purple) and pink – “There’s no Japanese word for pink!” she exclaimed, much to the laughter of the class. I’ve just placed them beside other trinkets which remind me of who I am, what I’m capable of and who has my back.
There’s the courage stone, given by Eldest Sis. There’s the card with a statement taken from Ayn Rand‘s beautiful quote which goes, “The world you desire can be won. It exists… It is real… It is possible… It’s yours.” There’s the 20th birthday gift, that handmade pick-me-up book from Eldest Sis. There’s the soft toys, each a gift from different persons. There’s the Mr. & Mrs. door gift from Eldest Bro’s recent wedding reception, which I missed by mere days.
It is also the Islamic new year today, which began from the historical emigration by Prophet Muhamad (pbuh) from Mecca to Medina in 622 CE. In Arabic (and adopted Malay), the word for migration is hijrah, which in modern-day, is more often associated to paradigm shifts and transitioning from different states of being, as opposed to physical migrations. In lieu of that, this revelation and revived determination seem even more apt.
Here’s to grace in measured maturity, returning once more to the wisdom gained yesterday. Kintsukuroi, ergo “understand that the piece is more beautiful for having been broken.”
This is my hijrah – here’s to pushing forward with an accepting heart, redha, as I remind myself that there’s exactly half a term left. More importantly, regardless whatever the outcomes will reveal themselves to be – this isn’t some competition I must win. Keep swimming in my own lane, stay focused. Do my best, leave the rest to God.
“When I fall short and have nothing left in me; He’ll carry me home.”