There are some topics I don't want to write about, but they are so persistent in my mind that I can't ignore them. If I ignore them, the creative process shuts down, as it did all of last week. One of these topics, the loudest of them all, is about death.
I am acutely aware of my mortality, not in an abstract way, but acutely, concretely, like something I can touch and feel. I feel the fragility of life every second, every minute. I am not anxious or paranoid about it; in fact I feel calmer than before.
Constantly seeing death's shadow from the corner of my eye changes the way I see other things. It colors everything. I question everything I do, or not do, from within this circle of awareness. Things I used to take for granted as part of life are now questionable. Often, in the midst of busily solving a seemingly serious problem, I hear this clear voice say "Is this it? Is this why you are alive?".
It's not as if I have never heard these questions before. Like all people who seek, I have heard them before, but never in this concrete real context, never without consciously seeking answers, never so pointedly, never so loudly.
These questions, and the way they are asked, are so new that they stop me in my tracks. They are so new that I have to rewire my brain to answer them. Sometimes, I just listen to them wide-eyed, not even attempting to answer, awash in the wonder of this new way of thinking.
Strangely, this voice that stops me in my tracks is steering me in directions I always wanted to go, but was afraid to. Oddly, this voice that talks of human limits and insignificance is helping me break my shackles and stretch my limits. Ironically, this voice that talks about pain and sadness of parting is showing me a new way to happiness.
I am acutely aware of my mortality, not in an abstract way, but acutely, concretely, like something I can touch and feel. I feel the fragility of life every second, every minute. I am not anxious or paranoid about it; in fact I feel calmer than before.
Constantly seeing death's shadow from the corner of my eye changes the way I see other things. It colors everything. I question everything I do, or not do, from within this circle of awareness. Things I used to take for granted as part of life are now questionable. Often, in the midst of busily solving a seemingly serious problem, I hear this clear voice say "Is this it? Is this why you are alive?".
It's not as if I have never heard these questions before. Like all people who seek, I have heard them before, but never in this concrete real context, never without consciously seeking answers, never so pointedly, never so loudly.
These questions, and the way they are asked, are so new that they stop me in my tracks. They are so new that I have to rewire my brain to answer them. Sometimes, I just listen to them wide-eyed, not even attempting to answer, awash in the wonder of this new way of thinking.
Strangely, this voice that stops me in my tracks is steering me in directions I always wanted to go, but was afraid to. Oddly, this voice that talks of human limits and insignificance is helping me break my shackles and stretch my limits. Ironically, this voice that talks about pain and sadness of parting is showing me a new way to happiness.
Dear Puja,
ReplyDeleteI too feel the same now-a-days.
Vandna Suri