|Mind Matters - Go With The Flow|
Why tap the keyboard to communicate with myself? Isn’t the nerve fiber route is more personal? No, it’s not short-term amnesia which is making me pen my thoughts. Well, for one, I am a little tipsy. That’s when I become philosophical. And since, I am quite capable of repeating mistakes, reading this letter will prevent me from falling for the same trap. Over and over again.
So hic… err… here we go.
If I don’t feel good about myself, how can I possibly do any good? Or write any good? Hence the exaggeration!
It has been a roller coaster ride of over four decades. The joy of childhood and the fear of insecurity; the bliss of love and the sting of bereavement; the paradise of motherhood and the twinge of separation; the pleasure of comfort and the pain of illness – life has unfolded in all its myriad forms.
The sunny days were a blessing. The world appeared beautiful with the ‘All is wonderful with the world’ pair of glasses. But the sun it seems loves to play hide and seek. When the clouds appeared, I inadvertently fed the ogre – worry. In hindsight, there was no point battling destiny. Who can? But surely, it was possible to master the twelve pound mass sitting above my shoulders.
What the hic…err…heck!
Okay, confession time. I am guilty of showering disproportionate attention on the bad times. In hindsight, ‘Was the stress worth it? How many fears came true? And more importantly, did the worrying help?’
The funny thing is that when the cosmic dice falls in favor, thoughts become angels – they behave. On other times, the monsters pull me in all directions. I have come a long way since, negotiating with my thoughts. Some have been tamed while others still play truant.
Since what others think about me has weighed on my mind, could anyone have made me unhappy without my consent? Why did I allow them to?
So much of life depends on the vagaries of destiny, chance meetings, and complex forces of fate which unfold each moment. Perhaps that’s the beauty of life – seeking, searching and surviving. Fighting new battles and yet going with the flow.
It happens to most of us. Time and again destiny mocks at courage. Fate begins the test of resilience. Ultimately, one has to put up a good fight. A fight one can be proud of.
It’s tough. The idea that I should always look at the bright side is too easy to be true. What problem after all, can be dealt simply by looking at the ‘half full’ glass? I can’t ignore the other half, can I ? I am not Buddha to say, “Lets rise up and be thankful….We got sick, at least we did not die.”
Regardless, gratitude, hope and faith help. The only other option is to stew in misery. Finally, it all boils down to what I choose and how I think.
These words, over the years, have been repeated a zillion times by those who write about monks selling Ferraris or those who pass down ‘The Secret’ of realizing the true magnificence of life. Yet, unless I nail these truisms in my head and feel them from my heart, they will remain words, shining on a piece of paper. And as confessed earlier, I am quite capable of repeating the same mistakes.
Surprisingly, this letter is making me see more than I was intending to. The babbling delirium reminds that I am guilty of not proportioning desired significance to gratitude. That said, I need to work on my gratitude list. Pronto.
Indeed, I am grateful that I found my passion in writing. Writing for me is neither about being read, nor, about getting published. It is a beautiful thing in itself. Except the fact that writing gives me immense pleasure, I know nothing about writing. Only that it is hic…err…cathartic.
So dear, now that I am yawning, enough fodder for the day. Also, there is only so much gyaan the mind can take. So go forth and drink. To happiness that is!