Talib Hussain 7/23/25 Talib Hussain 7/23/25

Be With Her

Be with someone who makes your heart change its rhythmic state.

Be with someone who disrupts your insides—not so much that you lose yourself, but the right amount of disruption that ignites new parts of you.

Be with someone who makes you feel, activates your heart—someone you are excited to see at the end of the day.

Release the naysayers, the narratives and internal dialogue of the others, of those who know nothing about you, by those who don’t even know themselves.

Be with the one that… you don’t even need to write anymore. If she activates your heart, be with her.

Be with this feeling right now. Hold onto this. It’s a gift from her to you.

Be with the one who has the potential to break your heart.

Be with the one who reminds you of your existence and why you came here in the first place.

Be with her.

Talib Hussain 4/25/25 Talib Hussain 4/25/25

The Void

This void that lives inside all of us — it can't be filled. Or can it?

The void itself is an imbalance; we inherit a dominant energy. When we are born, we are split. This split causes a fracture, leaving a void.

A relationship with the feminine fills this fracture — and vice versa. It empowers when it comes together. The energy ebbs and flows.

Leave the desire to attach, to keep it permanently in the void. It’s not ours to keep.

It’s essential for it to move freely, like a bird in a cage with the doors open. We have a tendency to want to trap the energy, thinking it's the safe way. But energy is only energetic when it can flow freely.

An addiction to the illusory idea of certainty and stability. Even if it stays there forever, it needs to know it can dance and fly if it so desires. That keeps the energy healthy.

It’s a dance between the masculine and the feminine.

Being caught up with material labels at the physical layer takes us away from the source of what’s important — the energetics within the layers that make us whole.

The energetics of mind, body, heart, and soul.

This is where we need to shine our attention, from the moment we awaken to the moment we lay down to sleep.

Talib Hussain 10/22/24 Talib Hussain 10/22/24

Life Dreams, Wet Dreams

Sometimes, you just need to release the valve, in whatever way works best. I feel better, less erratic. But I know it's not the only reason I was feeling scattered. I’m consuming a lot of information, trying to make sense of the world we're in, and at the same time, I'm sorting through my emotions anticipating the current to come. It's another reason, but not the only one, for pouring media onto my mind.

It’s hard to predict the end of something so far in advance. But I'm grateful for the chance to grieve, and even more grateful for my awareness of what I’m grieving. It’s not easy to say goodbye. When you do, memories of gratitude rush to the surface, and the longing begins—sometimes more painful than the grieving itself. Maybe they’re both steps within a greater process called death.

I'm scared. There’s no other way to put it. One Chanel, the other Gap. One is wet dreams, the other ignites life dreams. I’m drawn to Ms. Gap—madam life dreams. That’s always been my dream: a partner, two kids, a life we build together. But my soul had other plans: healing homework for both the soul and the whole. I was a strange mix of "too nice" and rage, birthed from chaos and conditions both now and passed down from those before me.

I learned from the screen. It was in the room where I shined. If only I could make her emulate the sounds and expressions I absorbed with my ears and eyes. I’m a man of contingencies, always with a backup plan—or maybe a forward plan, depending on the moment. The skills of the tongue. I did well. Sometimes not so well—it depended on the sun and moon, the alignment of the planets out there and in here. I achieved a passing grade, a high C, and maybe even a B+ at times. I guess it depends on the student who came before me.

A grading system that only she controls: the teacher. Once upon a time, she was the wise one in our historical eyes. Today, she is underground, difficult to be found but if you listen, you can still hear her subtle sounds.

Where was I? Ah yes, wet dreams and life dreams. It's not that life dreams can't have the thrill of wet dreams, but if I had to choose, I’d choose the illusory "happily ever after."

I said nothing. The fear of the past tightens inside my heart, holding back the words that yearn to rise up the channel and dew-drop off my tongue.

Feeling scared. Scared of what? Rejection? Possibility? That what you want might actually come true? One dream at a time. Wait why not two dreams at a time?

Rewind.

What stopped you? She was literally in front of you.

Judgment. Judgment of who she was surrounded by, judgment of her likes. Judgments that make no sense, judgments meant to distract and deter you from the truth of that moment. All you wanted was to say hello, to start a conversation. She felt good. She felt calm inside my heart. Maybe she had a man, maybe not. Maybe she was a million things or a million different scenarios, but it didn’t matter because she felt like a potential life dream.

Talib Hussain 6/10/24 Talib Hussain 6/10/24

Tearless Cries

I'm beginning to understand that emotional maturity and emotional expression are different things. We can articulate our feelings and still behave immaturely. In my writing, I’m projecting my journey towards greater emotional maturity. I’m learning to express and communicate my emotions better. If I'm happy, I can express it; if I'm angry, I can communicate that too. Now, I can even communicate sadness.

Before, I would suppress sadness with food, drinks, or media. Now, I recognize sadness and feel where it resides in my body. However, I don't know how to release it. Yesterday, I explored this: What happens if I don’t release my sadness? It fills my body with heaviness. This unreleased sadness often leads to despair and sometimes to a depressive state. For a long time, it has taken me there, except for a couple of months ago in India. I know that when I feel heavy inside, movement helps, especially lifting weights. Twenty to thirty minutes at the gym lifts my spirits. I think it’s the combination of movement and the release of endorphins.

Identifying emotions and communicating them to myself and others is a step toward further emotional maturity. But I’m still blocked when it comes to releasing sadness. Somewhere along the path, I suppressed this emotion. Over the years, I've learned that when we suppress one part of ourselves, like sadness, we also suppress its opposite—joy. If I can’t express and release sadness, I can't fully experience happiness and joy.

I've felt this deeply. There have been times and places, like recently in Valencia, where I could fully express both sadness and joy. Here in Toronto, it's a bit more challenging, but I’m working on it. I am better today than I was a year ago—more emotionally evolved. This means I don’t react to others' actions that trigger past pain. Instead, I can feel the emotion, observe its rise and fall like ocean waves.

These reflections have surfaced as I open myself to dating again and seeking a dynamic, expansive life partner. Someone who understands the layers of being, who has an insatiable curiosity about herself, others, and the world. Someone proactive in her day-to-day life, moving forward and upward.

Observing other couples, I realize there's no one-size-fits-all solution. Advice is based on individual experiences, and every piece of wisdom is unique. I listen, observe, and learn. I admire those who sustain long-term relationships. It’s never easy, yet some couples find a way to return to each other. It’s inspiring. I see that with the right partner, there’s an opportunity for greater freedom than I’m experiencing now.

However, I needed to release the patterns I absorbed as a child. Growing up in a traumatic household, we may intellectually reject it, but our minds are already programmed. We may not want what we experienced in childhood, but we’re drawn to the familiar. I replicated my parents' toxic patterns in my relationships. It took a lot of therapy, coaching, reading, and practices like yoga and meditation to deprogram and start reprogramming myself.

From my last relationship, I realized I was as emotionally immature as my parents and attracted similarly immature partners. Mature partners didn’t work because I wasn’t ready for them. I wasn’t even attracted to them because their energy was unfamiliar to me.

I am getting closer. All this work isn’t just to be more successful in my career or a better friend, sibling, or son. I do it because I’m preparing for her. It’s hard at times, but I know it will be worth the wait when she arrives in my life, and I in hers.

I recently listened to an interview with Esther Perel where she talked about “tearless cries.” This perfectly describes my experience with sadness. Most of the time, I wish I could cry and truly release my emotions through tears. Instead, I either suppress them or try to shake them out through physical activity. But what I really want is an epic, tearful cry.

Talib Hussain 12/26/16 Talib Hussain 12/26/16

Living with an Open Broken Heart

I once heard a wise woman say that Buddhists live with an open broken heart. That sentiment stayed with me, and it’s what I strive for most today. My first test came unexpectedly, like a punch in the gut followed by an aching heart. Love takes many forms, but one thing they all have in common is that it hurts when it leaves.

I’ve realized I have anxiety about people leaving. It wasn’t something I considered until my ex pointed it out. My anxiety stems from the fact that the people I loved, and who should have loved me—who do love me—have left. Sometimes, they’ve left multiple times.

After my first love didn’t work out, I shut my heart completely. But the truth is, there wasn’t much effort needed in locking it up because I had already kept most of it on lockdown. Occasionally, I’d open it to take a peek at what could be, but mostly it was closed. It was a defence mechanism, a result of broken trust.

Whether rational or not, in my mind, trust had been broken. I didn’t feel like I mattered, so people would leave or make decisions that didn’t consider me. That’s been my reality, perhaps even since birth.

Today, though, I kept a promise I made to myself back in the summer of 2014. I committed to living with an open broken heart. I know it hurts right now, but I also know it’s the same pain that’s opening my heart a little wider. It’s the same pain that increases my capacity to love. It’s a pain that reminds me I’m starting to feel again.

Why people come into our lives is a mystery. But when you live from this place of openness, it’s a mystery worth exploring—and staying open to—now and forever.

I’ve come to realize that my journey in this lifetime, my greatest challenge, is to love and to be loved. Compared to that, everything else feels like a walk in the park.

I don’t know how this story ends, but one thing is certain: sadness is just a step closer to happiness.

To be continued...

Talib Hussain 10/6/15 Talib Hussain 10/6/15

Conscious Mediocrity - The struggles of asking for what I truly want

Over the past year, I've dedicated myself to understanding what I don't want. I've learned to listen to my heart and soul, trust my intuition, and not feel guilty about saying no. Now, I've realized it's time to learn how to ask for what I want. I'm not entirely sure what this process entails, but I know it will require courage and clear communication.

Initially, I thought I needed a course in communication. However, as I write this, I realize that my challenge isn't in communicating others' needs but in expressing my own. The question is, why? The simple answer is fear of rejection. This explanation might have sufficed a year ago, but I believe there's more to it.

Growing up, my needs were often overshadowed by those of others. When I voiced my desires, I was met with scolding, dismissal, or a flat "no" without explanation. On the rare occasions I did get what I wanted, it took a lot of hard work and emotional turmoil. Can these childhood experiences affect us as adults? I believe they can.

Recently, a friend recommended I listen to an interview between Robert Augustus Masters and Tami Simon on her podcast, "Sounds True: Insights at the Edge," discussing True Masculine Power. Intrigued, I picked up his book, "To Be a Man: A Guide to True Masculine Power." Masters emphasizes connecting the dots between our past and present. He suggests that our default behaviours during difficult times as children often become our go-to actions in similar situations as adults.

We often justify our behaviours by saying, "This is just how I am." Compounding this difficulty, those close to us tend to reinforce these beliefs. However, many of our habits and self-perceptions are shaped by our upbringing, not our innate nature. My struggle to ask for what I want isn't embedded in my DNA; it's the result of my experiences.

I've been afraid to pursue my desires, both big and small. The numerous "no's" I received as a child makes me hesitate to ask for what truly excites me, fearing disappointment. I have no problem asking for something when I can frame it as being in others' best interests. I'm adept at convincing both myself and others that it's beneficial, reducing the risk of rejection. When I do get rejected, it doesn't hurt as much because it wasn't something I deeply wanted anyway. I call this "conscious mediocrity."

It only stings when I ask for something that truly lights me up because expressing what aligns with my heart and soul puts me in my most vulnerable state.