I wrote this piece back in July 2019. Disinformation amplified by Facebook’s News Feed algorithm and it’s policies continues to be a grave issue.


A while back I noticed that my Facebook News Feed had changed completely. I was getting updates from news sites and other pages but very few updates from “friends” i.e. people. Rather exasperated, after trying to follow Facebook suggestions to gain control over the feed and resoundingly failing, I complained to Facebook. Several times. Only to get standard cookie cutter responses. Their replies boiled down to this — there…

Early morning views of Griffith Park. July 2020. (All photos (c) Namee Baijal)

This think-piece raises but will not necessarily answer that question…

Recently I started thinking about the difference between a wound and a pattern. Spiritually and Energetically.

I was trying to make a decision about whether to work on a spiritual wound from childhood or whether to work on a pattern that has shown up repeatedly in my life which I think is connected to that original wounding. And it dawned on me that I actually don’t have enough knowledge to make an informed decision. Sure I can and will follow my gut and intuition but my curiosity was piqued.


There’s something so beautiful about a city in the rain.
When the sky is a sheet of gray
the hard edges of the world seem to soften.
The palm trees, that on sunny days, looked
noble and majestic, standing tall
against the blue sky
now look vulnerable like wet dogs.
On a rainy day they don’t have to work so hard
to hold up nobility in the world.

“Instructions for living a life. Pay attention. Be astonished. Tell about it.”- Mary Oliver. Looking at this tableau on my kitchen table at this quiet moment on what will ultimately be a loud, noisy and somewhat frenzied weekend, I was stopped short and almost brought to my knees in gratitude for the beauty and peace that fills life’s quietest in-between moments, and how, in the end, a life will be made of countless of these intermittent moments that we strung together. I have been exhausted this past month and in a funk. So it was especially lovely to realize that it is within our power to look. To fill the the in-between spaces of our lives with beauty and with love. Simply by paying attention to them.

A completely crazy thing happened this morning.

For the last couple of years I’ve been struggling with my special brand of road rage — which is a very vocal and vehemently derisive opinion of anyone who is following speed limits and therefore slowing me down as I speed to work. And having a late start, which is often the case, makes me very anxious and tense.

And for as long as I have been attempting adulting, I have been working on making my mornings and evenings productive. This morning after a long long time I managed to write my morning…

This week, my ear worm has been Snow Patrol’s Don’t Give In. Its catchy and who doesn’t need a reminder that sometimes you just need to plod on and not think about all the ways you are failing. I find myself in that place often. More often than I care to admit to. More often than people around me would ever guess. And mostly I can pick up the pieces myself without help from anyone else. But every once in a while its nice to have an anthem to go with it.

I also love the video directed by Brett Simon. I never get tired of videos with bands performing against a dark backdrop. This one manages to find a way to make the background dynamic. If you are like me, always intensely curious about music video credits, check them out here

Originally published at www.nameebaijal.com.

Discovery on writing six word stories on two consecutive days: food, especially dinner, and loneliness. Those seem to be my big themes!

Started this new project.

A quick internet search reveals that a six word story should have: Movement. Conflict. Resolution. Also sourced from the internet, this crucial (and very obvious once you’ve read it) concept that “the reader must cooperate in the construction of the larger narrative that is obliquely limned by these words.” Perhaps the most famous and probably the most brilliant six word story ever is the one attributed to Papa — “For sale, Baby shoes, Never worn.”

My first stab at writing a six word short story.

The photo is a filtered version of a photo I took one evening in Old Pasadena. On a solitary street, where the tree limbs meet in arches over the road. The smear on top is actually a mud splotch on the windshield of my my little Mazda.

Namee Baijal


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