The Life Changing Magic of Tidying Up the Heart

"So what are you thinking or feeling now?" she asked.

I sat there in the quiet boardroom, with my face in my hands. I could hear the muffled sounds of the rest of the office building going on with it's regular business things.

"I don't know," I said.

"I don't know?" she mimicked me gently.

I looked up and peeked at her, "I don't know. All I can think is the L word."

"Ooh boy," she shook her head.

"It scares me so much, how much this is affecting me. I don't know how to let go if that's what I have to do, because it is killing me right now even to consider not..." I flicked away a stray tear that found its way down my cheek.

"Do you think you should let go?" she asked.

I took a breath and considered how to phrase what I felt.

"It's like that Marie Kondo thing," I started.

"Huh? Marie Kondo?"

"You know how she has that system of purging things and keeping a minimalist, simple life..." I tried explaining. "Well it's like you consider what you have and how that thing makes you feel and if you can let it go."

She nodded at me.

"Well," I looked out the window lost in thought.

"Well that's the thing. It isn't what I may or may not have promised for tomorrow.

It's just that, when I think of him, when I am with him, when he's being whatever the hell he is even the most annoying version of himself, but when he is there with me....he sparks joy."

Entropy

What will it take for us to understand that love will resist all definition. It exists beyond our attempts to mold it into form, names and time. We try to claim it and conquer it, to find answers and meanings when it exists in a void beyond questions.

Love laughs in the face of our nets and snares; it answers to noone. Love is imperturbable chaos, it is reckless calm.

What will it take for us to understand? We will lose ourselves again and again, to drown and surface in this same murky ocean, and float adrift in the vast cosmos of love, until the very end of time.

Vavavoom

This morning I stood at my garden door, in the sunlit quiet, just enjoying the peace and serenity that comes with that feeling of being alone in a world that's still slumbering. As I stood there watching, I realized in front of me, almost camouflaged, was a huge monarch butterfly. It's wings were like a fine etched stain-glassed window, all gemstone oranges and gold and black.

As it quietly fed off my geraniums, I held my breath. I realized there was a part of me that itched to grab my camera and capture that moment for perpetuity. But for some reason I resisted, and let myself let go of that feeling of wanting to keep something for the future, and instead simply watched the butterfly as it nuzzled the flowers with its wings opening and closing in rapture.

I felt my breathe slow down, as I let myself simply enjoy the moment. Let the contentment and thrill of miracles wash through me. Sometimes it's okay to know that what you have now will soon flit away, maybe just be a nugget of doubt of "did I really experience that?" in memory..

But then again, perhaps simply letting yourself open yourself to the moment in the here, now and today, without worrying about what will come next, is what life is about.

Circles

Sometimes the best gift you can give yourself is to take that gift you thought was everything you every wanted and carefully wrap it back up, typing a perfect ribbon on top of where the old ribbon lay--and give it away.

and even though hurts you, still smile.

Slowing it down

Just because you have one plate doesn't mean you have to fill it up with just one dish at a time. It's okay to take just some at a time, putting a little of this and that, or a little of everything—allowing you to savour your favourite bit that much more.

Resilience

Perhaps it's okay to break, afterall. Maybe that is actually the true purpose of life, if ever there was one: that living isn't about finding a form or function that is impermeable, infallible, indestructible. Living is in breaking, in drowning, in falling—living is even in hurting.

Long time ago, when I was stuck deep in my med-sci studies, one of my university professors said something which, obviously after all these years, stuck to me. He said, "The Earth will become a huge snowball, we will all die. Sure. But who are we kidding? The Earth is more resilient than we give it credit for. It's going to perish, sure, but it will still be there, and it will thrive again, light years after we have wiped ourselves off the face of it."

Maybe it is OK, therefore, to let yourself trust and be broken. It is OK, to feel the fifty million thousand frequencies of loss and despair. It is OK to paint your world with shades of anger, sorrow, melancholy, and grief. It would almost be wrong not to. Like being able to paint as many colours onto a canvas and never touching all the colours of possibility.

In breaking then, despite the many ways that the cracks seem irreparable, the way they creak and hurt again and again, like a misaligned patella that you fell on when ice-skating that many years ago and whenever you stand up or try running down stairs the pain comes shooting up your leg in remembrance, all it takes is not avoiding the pain but embracing it, exercising it.

Even when you feel that you have lost out, when your trust has been brutalized again and again, maybe sometimes the pain is the best opportunity for you to look it over and realize that those moments had more worth than you ever even knew, even (especially) when you were actually living it. There are moments that make you remember exactly why that trust was so deeply ingrained in you, why that Jenga piece was so vital to your sense of self. Perhaps that person gave you a mirror to look at yourself in ways you never were able to before. Maybe they gave you a blanket, just for a while, sometimes, if you were a bit cold. Maybe they lent you an umbrella, not expecting that the relationship would develop further than that casual transaction. Maybe you spent hours and hours, learning to be yourself for once in your life, because this person gave you the space to be that, with them.

These were beautiful moments, and yet moments always have an inexorable place in the past. There are echoes of that laughter which permeate even into the very present now, telling you, reminding you, that you have never laughed as much in your life or smiled as much as you did then—and even if it is gone, it had at least existed.

Perspective is such a compelling narrative.  Even that moment you fell, where you hurt so much and thought that was it: that was the end, that was life, goodbye, time and perspective allows you to see that 5 year old little child that you were, falling on the playground and skimming your hands with gravel embedded under the skin. Adulthood is no different from that child, because we are always lost children seeking something more: a best friend, or companionship, a better snack, or a great exhilarating experience on the slide; and we are always growing in ways even we do not know—until we break.

Forgiveness is an act of the will, and the will can function regardless of the temperature of the heart. — Corrie ten Boom (quote that popped up in my inbox after I finished writing this post)

 There is a reason we can forgive, and maybe even as we cannot forget because we are still scared—maybe now more than ever—to trust again, we learn to forgive ourselves. We are all broken children, but in breaking, and breaking again and again, we have learnt to become a little more accountable to and for ourselves.

Sometimes you realize that the trust you thought was shattered is actually only a small dwarf planet compared to the huge expanse of a neverending universe of that patient, deep-abiding, resilient love within which it revolves.

Voices from the Other Side

Sometimes at the end of the day, the most miserable thing to be is alone. Especially when it piles up: day in, day out, same grind, same routines, and a whole long collection of lonely evenings. Someone to share what your day was like with, to sit in companionable silence, even, watching television together, or not even doing the same thing together, but still being together. There is a safety and security like no other when you know that you can cast your heart to drone over the surface of the many thousand miles of the earth and it can find that other heart that beats in sync with yours.

Yet the claustrophobia of company takes away the glow. Expectations of and from other people weigh heavily on your shoulders. Even when you're focused on accomplishing one task, you feel as if there are a million eyes - even if belonging to just that one person - peering over your shoulder, not letting you be at peace. Even when you sit for a second to catch your breath, you still need to take a figurative look around, almost guiltily, because you know that this moment to yourself isn't really yours, everyone else expects it to be theirs.

And this, too, piles up. It is almost as if your own lungs cannot belong to you because every breath you take is chained to another person's demands. As if your own hands, your own feet, taking you to places and performing your tasks, can never really be your own. Even your tears, if you even allow yourself a moment to let them fall, they too are tainted; accusations abound and fingers point, prodding, taunting, persistently, irritatingly, to your apparent selfishness.

What is it worth, then, being caged in forever, if that is the cost of not being alone? Why set yourself "free" from loneliness if it only means you lose your own sense of self? Why bother to try, if when every time you moved mountains to show you care, you are left holding the mountain to perpetuity as the very action is questioned, disputed, and doubted? How many times can you be expected to jump over train tracks with the train a split second away; how many times can you lay yourself down and let others walk over your back to safety; how many times can you give away your umbrella to stand alone in the rain?

What is the point of not being lonely, if the other person doesn't know this is what you feel but can't say.

323

And again, it's a beautiful day. I just want to say that I have been opening each and every day (still) by observing that it's a beautiful day.  Despite the general existential sense of disintegration and epistemological dissonance, externally and quite personally, somehow through it all I can still come out and tell myself it's a beautiful day. Even in heartbreak, calamity, destruction, bereavement, maybe this is the ruler we actually use to measure our status of survival.

Seven

Within the past several months I realize that I've been telling myself 'I wish the weather stays exactly like this; it's perfect.'  The weather has changed in a million ways, and each time I've said it, it's been entirely different. And yet, somehow, as I slowly come to this realization, each utterance was truly heartfelt. It's strange.

Yesterday, the weather was grey. Cloudy and dull. And yet, as I walked outside, I felt my insides swoon. It was gorgeous out. Balmy and that heady mix where you just could not tell what kind of weather it really was. It was all four seasons with all its sub-climates all intermingling and turning about. Spring and autumn doing the waltz, summer and winter debating over our heads. I sat at the window, enjoying my lunch and felt myself ease into a cocoon of contentment.

It was romantic weather, I told myself. How I came to this conclusion, I could not explain. It simply was romantic.

And though I reluctantly pulled myself away from that cocoon to get back to the daily grind, that tiny bubble of serendipitous contentment stayed with me throughout the day. I had not expected it in the least. But somehow I found it, or rather, it came to me.

Somehow it has awoken that sleeping spectre within me. Enough so much that I am here to write.  I have not been able to do so for the longest time, and in fact, I have retreated further and further into my self-containment so that I did not feel the least bit inclined to interact with anyone at all, not to the fault or lacking within anyone who was - is - someone to me. It wasn't you, it was me, totally me.

I am not entirely certain how this foray back onto long vacant places will last. Again as with the way the wind blows this way and that, perhaps it will come and go just as quickly. Perhaps the way I've tilted my head trying to decipher if this breeze was warm or cold, unable to truly distinguish such closely aligned threads of gold, silver, rust, or copper, filaments of grass and crystals of ice, maybe just maybe, it will flourish in as many different ways, unexpectedly.

Sockless

Breaking news. This is huge, this is epic, this is momentous: Welcome to the first day of the year where I do not have to wear socks.

No, I didn't run out of clean laundry, and no, my feet smell delightful. It's just so awesome being able to go outside in flats without socks, and not. feel. cold. The sensation is so liberating.

I know, I know. It's going to get cold again, but why should the fear of enjoying the moment now somehow jinxing the moment in the future stop me from enjoying the moment now? If we all did that, no one would be at peace, no one would be content, no one would be satisfied, and in constantly expecting the worse, and denying ourselves the pleasure of today, we conjure it up and  give it power, we make the worst come to life.

So, for the good we have today, rejoice in it, and offer up your thanks and gratitude, for these are the thoughts which strengthen the worth of us maintaining the good.

17

Today's the most beautiful day, weather-wise, of the year. Beautiful warm sunshine on your head, and a refreshing, slightly cool breeze to tantalize your senses. :)

I was planning on writing this with the full euphoria of the beautiful weather, but then I regretfully put it off until the realization of a disappointment kind of cut off the happiness into just a quiet sigh. 

23

Ok so today's thought of the day before I forget. So, there's this girl/woman I see almost every evening on the bus going home from work. For awhile I sort of didn't like the 'vibe' I got from her - a sort of snobby type. Can't explain. Anyways, we usually sit in the same area on the bus, and yesterday she was two seats to my left, with noone between us, and she was yapping away on her phone so hyperly and excitedly, you could just FEEL the happiness oozing off her.

Tonight. I actually see her coming onto the train where I am seated when the train stops at her station, and I automatically get black vibes from her. Anxiety, worry, sorrow. This all while she's still some distance away from me, with a whole crowd between us. When we finally get on the final bus home, she's sitting right beside me. She's not talking on the phone. I'm reading, as I usually do, and my eyes flit 2 cms to the left, and right there is her iphone, and she's texting someone back.

Now, before you think I'm a total creep or stalker, let me tell you that I'm a fast reader, as in, I can take in a whole sentence at a glance, in a way. Again, hard to explain. But yeah I...ahem...absorbed some of what her conversation was and it just made me feel an amazing feeling. All of a sudden, I didn't not like her. In fact, I felt a deep sense of empathy and almost felt like hugging her and casting my eyes sideways, I saw the familiar gleam of unshed tears. A bit filmy, but yeah.

It's probably already wrong to have invaded her private space, and probably more to share what her private conversation was here. But thing is, you don't know her. And secondly, the amazement that came over me was that her private conversation was one almost anyone could relate to in some way - it was the same old script found in every other love story.

Other person (apparently the 'he'): "I don't know what is happening but I don't want us to fall for each other, the way we are already falling.... I'm feeling like a teenager again...But... I don't want to hurt and to get hurt :)"

She's writing as my eyes absorb: "I was thinking how to tell you this all day, but it seems as if I was meant to get hurt afterall."

TELL ME that's so not something we've already heard? It's so cliche, and totally the usual desi dialogue. But it's just so strange the way this emotion of heartbreak is so universal, and so familiar. It just removes all barriers to previous prejudice and creates imaginary bridges of empathy and understanding between strangers. I don't know her, but I found myself saying a quiet prayer for some sort of strength and patience to be and stay with her.

Biking

Life. In the midst of all the waves, the storms, the conflux of emotions, we tend to look forward to that moment when it all settles and so that we can, in peace, live. And we forget, that this in all it's movement is life itself.

"Enjoy these moments" - an offhand comment that made me start thinking. Even when we are reminiscing, missing past moments, aching or longing for something else, or even down in the dumps, sometimes that's what makes it all so more special.

Life, bereft of its struggle couldn't be as fulfilling. We need that hill to climb so that we know we have a purpose. Sometimes we need a slap in order to appreciate a hug. Sometimes we need to fight in order to appreciate and understand affection. Sometimes we need to look ourselves in the mirror to understand what it is who we really are.

One squeezes a sponge to see what it contains. An orange can look enticing from the outside but once squeezed can we know how sweet or sour that juice really tastes. Likewise, do I like what comes out of me when under pressure?

Serenity. Give me the ability to take both good and bad in stride, for bad not overcome and tempt me onto its path when the wind blows in the wrong direction.

Patience. To be able to endure, and not fall to pieces when the wind wind blows stale.

Strength. To emerge and overcome, and not blow away when the wind blows too hard.

Sometimes we think we have it already, that we've already been able to scale the steepest mountain, and we've become all the more stronger for the experience. Then life gives you a mountain face that's entirely vertical, and somehow you're hanging from your fingertips, and that's when you learn, there's still more to go.

I have found that most of my personal growth has been through hardship. I rode off down the hill without a problem the very first time I sat on a bike. I didn't even worry about training wheels, or kneepads, nor helmet. I walked my first pink and white bike up the hill (which looked quite high at that young age) and just went for it. I didn't fall once, and I had kept riding until my cousin had to run after me before I disappeared on the horizon.

This is a lesson that stays on my mind even until now. I had learnt that when you need to do something, just do it and don't worry about what may or may not happen. But what this also taught me was that I wasn't prepared, for the times I rode into a bush, or into that parked car, or fell over and grazed my hands and knees. Those were the times when I learnt what I should not do, and how to prevent it from happening again.

Every time I thought the waves had crashed over me and I was doomed to drown, somehow I found myself able to float. I have learnt so much about myself just through the times I have suffered. The times a friend proved to be less of one, or the times a love wasn't what it seemed.

Taking off without a fear is one thing - sometimes you take for granted the things that you already have when it's going so well. I've learnt that sometimes the bike you're on isn't reliable. You learn to know what is good for you, and what isn't. Sometimes the path is strewed with obstacles, you need to learn how to maneuver past these. Sometimes, the weather is not right, and you learn to gauge when it is the right time, place and occasion. You may have your eyes just focussed on the horizon and not see that where you are isn't going to get you there. And you need to have a good sense of balance. If you don't keep your head up, and learn to steady yourself, you certainly won't get far.

Sometimes I love the way I sound. I think I sound so smart and sensible, then I bump into another bike rider, who on the trip down the path, or during a mishap when we crash against each other, makes me realize there are things about myself I don't really like and that there is a lot more I need to work on.

Sometimes even when you don't like the brambles and thorns that scratch and get at you while you're travelling that road, you understand sometimes, even when you're hurting or in pain, this itself is an experience that one day you can look back on for having gotten past, and understand that these are all the moments which make up life.

Things You Should Be Able To Say About Yourself: 4

4.  I am happy and grateful.

Goooood morning world! I can definitely tell you that today I am extremely happy and grateful. :D I woke up late, and had to rush, but I definitely woke up feeling awake. That's a feeling worth feeling!

Happiness is within you, in your way of thinking.  How you view yourself and your world are mindful choices and habits.  The lens you choose to view everything through determines how you feel about yourself and everything that happens around you.

If there is anything I have learnt, it's that I hold onto the decisions of being happy and being sad. There are times you feel that it just happens regardless of how much you try, and of course it does, we don't just press a happy button or flick a switch, although at times, I know it seems that way. But usually, our state of mind is about how made up we are about our minds. We hold onto sadness or anxiety because we continuously dwell on that issue, or refuse to let go of whatever it is. I'm an annoying optimist at times, and it's so like trying to push an inflated balloon under water and keep it there, it just keeps bobbing up. However, when I do get sad, it's like that balloon has been popped, and I drown. When that happens, I tend to have to pull my pieces together again, and I try to reach for air again. Because, even while I am drowning, I know that there IS air to breathe just there at my fingertips - all I have to do is try. 

We hold onto these little things that pull us down, and its usually in hindsight that we recognize that these things are not, or were not, important. How does one let things go, though? I'm not sure how to explain it really. It's just believing that things will work out, that whatever you do have thus far is plenty - and more than others have. If it's worthwhile, it will remain and work out.

Being grateful will always make you happy.  If you’re finding it hard to be grateful for anything, sit down close your eyes and take a long slow breath and be grateful for oxygen.  Every breath you take is in sync with someone’s last.

As I've mentioned before a few times, I often just think of the little happinesses in life. A ray of sunshine, a refreshing drink, an inside joke with a great friend. Just one little thing that could be so much. I often think to myself, what the hell are you moping for? You have so much more than others have. Some don't even get the chance to feel or dream or wish for something else. You're lucky that you can. Don't dwell on negativity, because you're giving it power when you do, and that's what makes it stronger. When you think positive, it's amazing how much easier things become.

Peace

As you can tell, I haven't been around much. Or rather, I haven't been blogging for awhile. Anyways, on Friday evening while walking home from the bus, I had my earphones on and was walking with my book open, reading.

This is probably one of the best 5 minutes of the day, as the walk home goes through the neighbourhood park, and fields of trees. The sun is just beginning it's dip down and it's that little bit more breezier, if not cooler.

I love the random way the music that is playing (I keepmy playlist on the random shuffle mode just for this)  suits the mood of the walk home. On this particular day, I managed to slow my ramble homeward-bound in the peace and tranquility of the evening to fit two songs in.

The gleeful calls of the children dancing in the waterpark sprays, the movement of the clouds, the sun tracing it's journey overhead, and somehow even with all the sounds surrounding, somehow I was cocooned in a silence that just intertwined with everything else.

These are the two songs that so perfectly fit the moment, and I was so filled with the love for the moment that I decided while I walked home, and watched my own feet walking with the dance of shadows and light (it was almost like I was drunk with contentment, you should really try just watching your feet on the pavement as you walk..) - I decided I had to write about the moment and share these songs.

Song #1.

Ab mujhe koi intezaar kahan

Woh jo behthe the… Abshaar kahan

Ab mujhe koi intezaar kahan

-Ishqiya

Song #2.

Tera zikr hai

Ya itr hai

Jab jab karta hoon 

Mehekta hoon, behekta hoon,..chehekta hoon

-Guzaarish

:)

Spring Morning

Yayyyy! Spring came back! Well, technically it is still summer. But by this summer's trend today could possibly be declared a Spring day. It is actually 20°C today. After almost 40°C weather just two days ago, this is a momentous occasion.

I think, by writing about writing soulfully yesterday, I somewhat sated that urge to dip into less buoyant realms. I am actually hyper this morning, which is a step away from my usual quiet and calm mornings basking in sunshine splendour. The sun is peeking out from behind clouds right this very second as I write this.

I'm munching on Cinnamon Toast Crunch also as I write this, and Layla will be glad to inform everyone that it's full of sugar and not healthy like her Fruit n Fibre cereal that she partakes of everyday, or like Nerdy's Special K. Whatever the case, I love CTC. I do have granola waiting below the CTC though.

I am not really sure why I am hyper this morning. You could attribute it to the sugar of course, but I digress. I was hyper before I started consuming my CTC. I did get a good night sleep, with the cool breeze of the night gusting through my room. I couldn't even manage to sleep on my ride to work. I normally do. But my mind was awake and alert.

All in all, I am refraining from over-analysing things, or thinking too much. I am on a vendetta to achieve constant contentment. It may more or less be a futile quest, but I think in trying, I am actually getting closer to the goal. So I will just let the happiness of the morning exist without asking why it does.

That is one of the problems with us, we always look for reasons, when the point is just to be.

Scope

I'm getting lazier, aren't I? I feel that the frequency with which I have been blogging has totally decreased. Each time I decide to write something, I yawn, then stretch, and promptly forget about it entirely. Well, not entirely.

One side-effect of being a blogger is that every experience is filed away into a section of the mind with a figurative little sticky noting how it will fit into a post. Not exactly that way, it's just more of a subconscious occurrence, and most likely not exclusive to just bloggers. Writers, artists, thinkers. Anyone who takes an experience and opens it up for analysis, further experiencing that experience and tasting the fruits that are found when one delves into the matter deep enough.

This morning I think I fell in love again. Seriously, the moment I stepped out, I was totally wrapped by the warmth of the morning. While noone wants to hear about the warmth anymore (What warmth? We're talking about bloody suffocating HOT), this was that warmth that reminds you of the tenderness of Spring, or the approach of Autumn. Again, not every one of you will know what I am talking about, as our climates vary globally.

There was such a strong wind, and it was the type that made you believe that you could be in a movie scene where the wind (fan) is streaming through your hair, and the sun is just rising, and the world is bereft of its regular calamity, a temporal world of serenity. The fact that you aren't in a movie scene with the fan blowing makes it even more beautiful. Because it is reality. For however temporary that moment was, it was still there.

So that was my morning, other than the "good morning"s to the old guy walking past from his early morning walk through the park, and to the other one watering his garden.

Lately, I have been bugging my friends with the Twitter updates on horoscopes. I don't know, I find them interesting. Especially when they're very apt. And what I am talking about is the characterization of each zodiac sign, not the "today you will understand the meaning of a wild encounter when you lose more than you expected to but gained everything back." types. Regarding those daily horoscopes, I have had my own theory for a long time. My theory goes like this: All the journalists or reporters or psychics or whoever they are who are paid to write up these horoscopes get together at a bar. Get drunk. Then they start writing. While continually drinking.

"OK, gimme that pen. This is what it's gonna be like: Aquarius will meet a dark handsome stranger..."
"Yo man!  I'm Aquarius!  I don't want a dark handsome stranger, I got my sights on that blonde over over over....over there.."
"Whoa, that's one hot babe man!"
"Yeah that's what I'm talking about. Write something about her for me will ya?"
"OK buy me another round duuuude. Yeah *gulps* Ok scratch dark handsome...Stranger. Ahhhm. Bright... and full of light! WOOP!"
"YEA BRO THAT'S WHAT IM TALKIN BOUT THIS CALLS FOR A DRI..."
"...Yo man that babe is coming here...."
" @#$@ That's Barb! You @#$! She's on our team you fool."
"You sure?" *squints*
"Yooooohooo boys, whatchus star...star....star *hiccup*ing at me for? Did ya write the the the first scope yet?"
"Ahh. Barb what's your sign again?"
" Um.........ca....caa...caa...."
"Cancer?"
"Um...no....ccccccaaapri"
"Capricorn! Eh Bill.. where youat man. Get yer face outta that mug. Yeah Bill listen write this. Capricorn meets Aquarius for best results."
"What the beep man? Beshht weshults? Thish shom kinda exam or what? Kiddin me man..."
"No Bill, ah jusht write it aite.."

Living Life

I have been reading through various material. Books, random blogs, articles, different websites.  Me reading is nothing new. However, as I read through a certain passage, it occurred to me that I don't write as in-depth as I might have. I tend to simplify my thoughts and I've also tried to keep my vocabulary somewhat understandable. In a nutshell, I tailor my posts for the audience I know will be reading.

I have stopped myself from indulging in detailed and technical discourses which I know will put all of you to sleep. The question might crop up then, why do I limit myself? I ought to be myself, despite whatever feedback I may or may not receive. That is the point of my blog, after all.

Not really. The point of my blog is for me to simply express those thoughts that are created from the many experiences I may have, in a moment, a day, a week, or simply out of life. They may be pretty mundane. Or even something we all already know.

At times, my thoughts clash with those of my readers. I have always been a non-conformist, but only to a certain extent. I like to think outside of the box, and in so doing, I sometimes come up with such random ideas that the capacity to understand them undermines their logic. So they become ridiculous. Often, when certain events pan out, or time elapses, I am able to say, "Hey, this is what I said way back when, and no one believed me." Yeah, I am a "I told you so" person, but usually it's just in my head.

I read random things here and there. Recently, I've been reading little bits of Gandhi's rendition of the Gita. I have over the years read various versions of the Gita. Now don't get me wrong, I don't hold myself to be a very religious person. Comparative to others, yes I may be. But I am not really a big fan of "religion" per se. If I believe in anything it is simply in goodness. As such, I find it interesting to read the scriptures of faith and understand the creed behind various religious faiths. Likewise, I have read the Bible, Quran, and have read various other texts pertaining to religion and religions.

For me, it isn't about what makes them different. It is what makes them alike: the underlying goodness that transcends all borders, cultures and nationalities. The basic goodness that should be the foundation and root of "Godliness" or, simply humanity, is what makes me question why people incorporate so much negativity in the act of upholding their religion.

I often believe that faith itself becomes a second-hand product when people find the need to resort to religion bashing and mockery. When you yourself are engaged in acts that are negative and founded on ill-thought toward another, how can you then say that this is (for) the goodness of my faith?

I am an idealist. It may be a weakness, or it may be a strength. Weakness, because an idealist harbours hopes that  often do not manifest in the realities of the world. Strength, perhaps because a strong foundation of belief may be the saving grace for the idealist, and hopefully enough so that it might take root and spread. Who knows?

I do not want to sound as if I am writing so as to force anyone to believe in what I do. I am not trying to convert anyone to any form of thinking. You want to fight about religions, well, I am not saying go ahead and do it, but in the end what does it gain? Shoot each others' heads off, and then what? In the same way, as I wrote about eating animals, so the population of meat eaters eventually all die off from cardiovascular diseases and suchlike, then what?

I know, we are all going to die anyway one day. So live it to the fullest, right? Even I wonder at times, what is the good in believing in good. I should just throw it all out the window and stop believing. No one wants to listen, anyway. Or if they listen, then only do so to laugh.  Or, to feel uneasy or even angry. Then I wonder, what would the world be like without us idealists? No one to say, stop animal slaughter, stop racism, stop genocide, stop child or women abuse. After all, life is short already, stop worrying about all of the stuff we can't change. Live life to the fullest.

Morning

Sometimes in the midst of the cacophony that accompanies life, you're enmeshed in a moment wherein you get hit with a realization that you are happy. Maybe not entirely, because of all the additional factors that can be swirling around on the outskirts of that bubble, but in that bubble itself, you are.

That's how I felt this morning, curled up in my chair, in my quiet corner by the window, where the only sounds were the air sweeping through the suite quietly and coolly, and the dimmed hum of the random vehicle passing the building. Sunshine and solitude, two of my favourite companions. 

I had meant to write this, and yet, I broke into my own bubble to get up and get myself a bottle of water, and in so doing, lost that tranquility, checking in with the other departments, having to take phone calls, and holding impromptu meetings that all so instigated a stronger craving to return to the peace of my office. 

And yes, I am back again, and now writing all of this morning's experiences. I am a morning person, despite the weariness with which I wake up and pull myself out of bed, and I love it more so for the amount of productivity I am able to concentrate into several hours as opposed to an entire day. 

Those of you who know me well enough are familiar with my afternoon crash - the phenomenon of me being so incredibly sleepy and lethargic after lunch. Comparative to my mornings, I could perhaps attribute this to the fact that the sunshine has moved on and my east-facing windows no longer receive those rays which so rejuvenate me.  Oh well.

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