Khaya Ronkainen

Looking Back

Posted on 01/05/2020 by Khaya Ronkainen / 45 Comments

It’s the Day of Goodwill. The morning is crisp, and the rural landscape a hero dazzles at subzero temperatures. I watch tits through the window gently jostling each other as they feed from the bird table. They seem oblivious the year is winding down. But I take stock. How did I fare on my intention to simplify?

I smile. Not because when I answer the question, “What did I do right in 2019?” I can tally a handful of achievements I’m proud of. But because a squirrel that has been scurrying around a tree, from branch to branch, measuring distance to jump in order to reach the bird table, finally gives up.

Simplifying turns out not to be as simple as the word implies. I’ll say this, clearing physical clutter is a yawn. But the emotional one…try your hand at grasping a shadow! In a nutshell, 2019 had been a year of accepting things as they are, aligning values with action, and letting go of what no longer served me.

Tits remain active, flutter from feeder to the tree and back. They are in their element. And their freedom of being is just so natural as they occupy that space. I ask myself, “What stops me from taking up space and expand?”

For Poets and Storytellers United.

note: Happy New Year, Everyone! 🙂 Hope it started well for all. As it always is, with updates and changes, my site is sometimes unresponsive. Please bear with me as I try to fix this issue.

Writing & Living

Gratitude

Posted on 12/13/2019 by Khaya Ronkainen / 18 Comments

I. Am. Tired! It’s been an extremely busy second half of the year. Fortunately, the winter break has already begun and I’m truly grateful for it. So, here are my last random things for the year:

1. Unpredictable Weather

We had glorious snow a few weeks ago, and I was almost ready to take my skis out. That snow is now gone but hopefully not for long as it is a permanent feature in some parts of the country.

2. The Mailbox

If you’ve send me letters (poetry books) and I haven’t acknowledged receipt, my apologies I’m not being rude. We had a postal strike here that saw a prime minister resign. I’ll let my fellow countryman, Trevor Noah, tell you about the new prime minister because he does it best. But I’ll say this, each time a woman rises to a leadership position, I celebrate! Anyway, I’m still waiting for delivery on both fronts.

3. A Word for 2020

In recent years, I’ve gotten into a habit of coming up with a word that serves as a guide and anchor. This year’s word was simplify, and I did. But that’s a post for another day.

4. On Looking Deeply

“You do not need to be a poet to see a cloud in a piece of paper.” ~ Thich Nhat Hanh

So, if I’m quiet and you don’t see me around the blogs, I’m probably looking deeply into the nature of things and working on my guiding word for the next year.

5. Gratitude

On that note, I’d like to say THANK YOU for reading and supporting my writings, as well as sharing your stories with me. It’s been a great year, overall.

Wishing you and your loved ones a magical and restful holiday season!

Prose

What’s In Your Eye?

Posted on 12/01/2019 by Khaya Ronkainen / 42 Comments

One autumn morning, I was standing at a bus stop when a couple with brown complexion like mine approached. I greeted, and I got back a weak nod from the gentleman. I searched the lady’s eyes to make contact but nothing came of it. The bus came before I could make an attempt at small talk, and we all hopped in and went our separate ways.

There is nothing unusual with this kind of communication, which basically means I’ve accepted it as the norm. I used to be so excited, when I encountered another African. Because we are a minority here, in Finland. However, more often than not my excitement was met with a quick glance or complete avoidance.

This behaviour confused me at first, and I wondered “Why do we Africans behave differently, when we are in white spaces?” Because back home, when we greet “Sawubona” we actually mean I see you. I see you as a fellow human being and we journey this life together; we coexist.

When I started working with fellow immigrants and hearing their stories, I started to understand this avoidance of eye. It was a mix of pain, loss, displacement and the sheer act of trying to survive in a new place with its own set of values and traditions. By looking each other in the eye, we risk an outburst of emotions.

So, I pose a different question to you, dear reader. What’s in your eye, when you encounter another fellow human; fear, mistrust, kindness, acknowledgment, etc? And does it require a change of perspective?

note: This short essay is a response to Telling Tales with Magaly Guerrero. The question, “Why do we Africans behave differently, when we are in white spaces?” has inspired a number of my poems. In any case, I know I’m not the only one pondering this behaviour. The first paragraph of this essay (though it explores a different subject) vividly captures what I’m talking about here.