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  • Writer's pictureSona Parmar


Updated: May 12, 2022

I don’t know why I buy it in the first place.

I see something new, I think it will measure up to my exacting taste (and low-glycaemic requirement, once I pull out the raisins), but every time, every time, I am disappointed.

And no, this is not an area where I can appreciate not expect.

So why don’t I do the thing that I know know KNOW works? (Make it myself) Because I have this false notion that everything should be easy and come out of a box.

But I know this is not true.

I know that a healthy spine say, takes forward, backward and twisty motions to work well. I know that a (loose) bedtime routine is the only way to get kids into bed at a decent time. I know that checking the oil and water in my car ensures a smooth ride.

So why won’t I make the damn granola?

Because I have the illusion that things could, and should, be another way.

My kids should want to do their homework before anything else, when they come home. Certain relationships should be easy and effortless at all times. Nairobi houses shouldn’t get so cold at this time of year.


I accept that my kids don’t want to do their homework first. I accept that there will be times when certain relationships are not easy and effortless. I accept that Nairobi winters are cold.

I accept that prepackaged granola tastes like sh*te.

I feel better.

That’s all I had to do. Accept the damn thing.

I didn’t have to be OK with it, I didn’t have to descend into victimhood (why me God, why me?), nor did I have to get angry.

I just accepted it, the same way that my kids put on an apron before they go and paint. They accept that their clothes will get dirty otherwise. It is what is is. No judgment.

Acceptance means doing what is necessary, taking the right action at the right time in the right way.

And with that, I am off to buy granola ingredients.

I figure that if the hair can be good, there’s nothing I can’t do.

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