Life in Years

Life is what we make it to be. Every year, traditionally we humans like  to audit our lives in terms of what we have gained and lost. It is that time of the year when we take a breather to look back on all the events of the year that shaped us.

When I look back, I see a fairly uneventful year, a year of calm, a year of appreciating normalness. I have learnt that things change, time heals and life goes on. 2014, has been  a year for me to recuperate in many ways, just to recharge my batteries, to be content.

I am not sure what my resolutions for the year were, or if I had made any. That is the thing with resolutions, they tend to evaporate with time. But this year, I hope that I find cure for the pop-up messages in my head, that I stop ear-marking all the chapters in life that I don't intend to go back to and lastly but not least, have the wisdom to live in the present.

The past year has also been one where my patience for bigoted people have been tested, and I am glad to say I failed. I am finally learning, if a friend or acquaintance can have opinion, so can I. Take it or leave is my attitude now.

My back and forth journey from theism to atheism is still in progress. Maybe one day I will end up on the other side of the fence - the question being which side I am on now. I am learning to let opinionated people voice their ignorance, it is more fun to be a bystander although the temptation to join the party and dance is at times too hard to resist.

Year 2014, has been about family and friends - unexpected connections, inspiring connections. It has been a year when I finally admitted that I am an introvert and a wannabe atheist, although the moment fear of loss creeps in, I turn to be theist .

2015 is going to be all about faith and courage. Time to get out of the comfort zone, time to be true to myself, time to take actions and let life happen. Or on the other hand, I will enjoy whatever gifts the tidings bring me - with gratitude and courage.


 

Quotes on Loss

“You will lose someone you can’t live without,and your heart will be badly broken, and the bad news is that you never completely get over the loss of your beloved. But this is also the good news. They live forever in your broken heart that doesn’t seal back up. And you come through. It’s like having a broken leg that never heals perfectly—that still hurts when the weather gets cold, but you learn to dance with the limp.” 

“At the temple there is a poem called "Loss" carved into the stone. It has three words, but the poet has scratched them out. You cannot read loss, only feel it.”
― Arthur Golden, Memoirs of a Geisha

Your absence has gone through me
Like thread through a needle.
Everything I do is stitched with its color.”
― W.S. Merwin

“I know now that we never get over great losses; we absorb them, and they carve us into different, often kinder, creatures.” 

“The weird, weird thing about devastating loss is that life actually goes on. When you're faced with a tragedy, a loss so huge that you have no idea how you can live through it, somehow, the world keeps turning, the seconds keep ticking.” 

Zen Wisdom

A Zen master came to the front door of the King’s palace. None of the guards tried to stop him as he entered and made his way to where the King himself was sitting on his throne.

“What do you want?” asked the King, immediately recognizing the visitor.

“I would like a place to sleep in this inn,” replied the teacher.

“But this is not an inn,” said the King, “It is my palace.”

“May I ask who owned this palace before you?”

“My father. He is dead.”

“And who owned it before him?”

“My grandfather. He too is dead.”

“And this place where people live for a short time and then move on – did I hear you say that it is NOT inn?”

The Stone Cutter

There was once a stone cutter who was dissatisfied with himself and with his position in life.

One day he passed by a wealthy merchant’s house. Through the open gateway, he saw many fine possessions and important visitors. “How powerful that merchant must be!” thought the stone cutter. He became very envious and wished that he could be like the merchant.

To his great surprise, he suddenly became the merchant, enjoying more luxuries and power than he had ever imagined, but envied and detested by those less wealthy than himself. Soon a high official passed by, carried in a sedan chair, accompanied by attendants and escorted by soldiers beating gongs. Everyone, no matter how wealthy, had to bow low before the procession. “How powerful that official is!” he thought. “I wish that I could be a high official!”

Then he became the high official, carried everywhere in his embroidered sedan chair, feared and hated by the people all around. It was a hot summer day, so the official felt very uncomfortable in the sticky sedan chair. He looked up at the sun. It shone proudly in the sky, unaffected by his presence. “How powerful the sun is!” he thought. “I wish that I could be the sun!”

Then he became the sun, shining fiercely down on everyone, scorching the fields, cursed by the farmers and laborers. But a huge black cloud moved between him and the earth, so that his light could no longer shine on everything below. “How powerful that storm cloud is!” he thought. “I wish that I could be a cloud!”

Then he became the cloud, flooding the fields and villages, shouted at by everyone. But soon he found that he was being pushed away by some great force, and realized that it was the wind. “How powerful it is!” he thought. “I wish that I could be the wind!”

Then he became the wind, blowing tiles off the roofs of houses, uprooting trees, feared and hated by all below him. But after a while, he ran up against something that would not move, no matter how forcefully he blew against it – a huge, towering rock. “How powerful that rock is!” he thought. “I wish that I could be a rock!”

Then he became the rock, more powerful than anything else on earth. But as he stood there, he heard the sound of a hammer pounding a chisel into the hard surface, and felt himself being changed. “What could be more powerful than I, the rock?” he thought.

He looked down and saw far below him the figure of a stone cutter.

Enlightenment

A student once asked his teacher, “Master, what is enlightenment?”

The master replied, “When hungry, eat. When tired, sleep.”

Reflection by the Stream

Every now and then I have this immense need to go and sit beside a stream. Just listening to the flowing water,watching the water find its way over and around the rocks, twisting and turning and flowing. It is one of the most fascinating things to observe - maybe just like life it is so full of movement.

Every now and then, there is this need to cleanse away all the uninvited thoughts - thoughts and emotions that I have unwittingly gathered and saved up. Just watching the water scrub the rocks clean , brings a sense of calm. I go there to shed my troubles, to give up the conflict of what I want and what I have - to erase the doubt about how I could do things differently and be better. 

Every now and then, sitting by stream, I pause to reflect and reaffirm the purpose of my life - that is if it has any purpose. I like to pause and listen to my thoughts, to look inward, to stop the incessant noise that is still drumming somewhere deep.The sound of stream  drowns away all the noises - wiping away the doubts and feeling of inadequacy.

The silence in the sound of water, the color in the colorless water, the stillness of the flowing water a meditation in motion. We all need  a place where we need to sit quietly and listen, listen and connect to the source of our existence. It is amazing how it is teaches me that nothing remains constant - the water flows towards the river, but there are days when the stream is just trickling by and days when it is dancing with joy. The path doesn't change, only evolves to adjust to changing circumstances.

The most important lesson I learn is that the final destination is the same - I have the choice to savor every moment and take it slow and just like the stream I am clueless about how long my journey is.

Quilted Homes

Home - a word invoking warmth and fuzziness. Is home a place, a person or a state of mind I wonder? Or is it all that makes you feel safe and welcome? Being home is being who you truly are -no pretenses, no judgments, no explanations, just being . Home, an assortment of pieces of memories - of places and people that fill your days with warmth and laughter. I have been collecting those pieces over the years and take it with me every time we move.

Yet the feeling of truly belonging - of feeling that there is nothing better than being  right here continues to elude me to a certain extent. I have left friends behind - carried the memories, but part of me is still in the houses I called homes. Moving does that to you. You  are constantly searching for that safe haven  called home. The familiarity, the confidence that you actually know the place and its quirky character. I guess it is not moving, it is just feeling of unrest, the search for that place or moment where you are just you.

Home is when a place is no longer mysterious, no longer alluring, but still it is what you know best. It knows you and you know it. Home is just being so familiar with someone or some place that it  is a part of you - a part that never ever leaves you.

For me home is familiarity and acceptance. I know the walls of my house, I know the creases on my husbands face, I know the twinkle in my child's eyes and I know that in many ways I am home to them. Yet a part of me still yearns for walls where my son scribbled his first A,the streets where I spent time dreaming,  for for all the places and people I called home at different stages of my life.

This place I call home now, chose me. I belong here for now..... The memories of the places I called home are receding deeper, and at times I hear the call loud and clear, only to hush it down. The mountains have captivated me and every time I struggle to define my home, try to go back, I hear a whisper, this is home, this is where you belong.