Copyright©Neer
Whispers of Resurrection
It's February...
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Galaxy in My Glass |
And the way to survive and shine through it all, through the days and nights fraught with macabre and magic too, is to just let it be. And suffice it to say, IT'S NOT EASY.
But, then I also realised, for me, no amount of therapy or Xanax is going to help if you relinquish the power of kindness for yourself to the terrorism of your mind. It is what, it is. And I have utmost respect for the entity my mind is, but I also need the agency to let it blow it's steam off without my being sucked into its shenanigans. I am not advocating this for anyone - it's my way and well has worked for me.
It is after all a product of messed up evolutionary drama with over bred, survival instincts laden and fantasy driven chemical synapses enmeshed into millions of neurons.
Trying to control one’s mind via intervention - of any sorts is like trying to make a dent in the universe. With no disrespect for Late Mr Jobs, it’s simply not possible.
We are inconsequential in multiverse’s larger scheme (Douglas Adams had the right idea) and we are absolutely divine in our own self – it seems like a paradox; it isn't really.
For eg: with the human population exploding to the brinksmanship today, one would not be amiss to think that it literally should be the simplest of the things – child birth. But anyone who has had children or been pregnant, knows... it is not so!! It still remains a marvel of nature. Forming of a living functioning entity inside you. The beauty of things around us, are paradoxical, always! Existence is paradoxical.
I said to a friend - I am self aware(ly) depressed. And, I realised, it’s in fact truer than I meant it to be.
Not maniacally. Just very very aware. It ebbs like an ocean – toggling between the calm mirror like surface water and then the churning tidal waves hit the surface.
18th was my birthday and whilst I had no plans except spending the day quietly by myself, with the child back in school. It just unwittingly turned out to be happy hour cocktail brunch with friends. A tribe of smart beautiful women.
And I gave up on my last social media thread. The only keeper of social timeline – Instagram today. It’s an experiment to lessen the despondency laced dependence on the culture of scrolling and double tap. It was eating up my hours – and no, am nowhere near addiction by any measure - I still didn’t appreciate the fact that I was losing my hours unbeknownst to me.
I gave up credit cards last year and WhatsApp too, now with this - I think my cyber hermitting level 1 is complete.
Would I ever again join the society of reactions, likes and engagements? Perhaps.
If there’s one thing, I have learnt in my all my 4 decades is to never shut the door to learning and evolving, however, that may be.
At that final hour, when I have a minute to reflect on this life, I would like it to read like a classic: “a book which with each rereading offers as much of a sense of discovery as the first reading.”
Be Kind, To Self, First! It's quite underrated and the power is immense. So long...
Copyright © Nee
Portal to Being Alive
I avoid the news like plague but it trickles. Instagram is my only social media and I use WhatsApp sparingly but with a mastery of the vocabulary.
I know the lingo so thoroughly that it’s hard to believe the woman texting you back is the one who borders on the obsessive shunning of company; heck I was there when the lingo was being designed and developed – when the code to convert the keystrokes into emojis were conceptualised.
I avoid the news like plague but it trickles to my Insta feed. I avoid it because am obsessive, I would then cry and be consumed and rage and rebel and make the monster in my head – almost as big a monster as things actually are and I will be honest; am not equipped to deal with it.
I avoid the news like a plague because it will consume me entirely. Because I want to believe that the world still has something good, something pure, left. I want to believe that all my sweat and blood in bringing up another human in space full of love is not for nothing. If nothing, it will at least build enough groundwater reserve for the times when the world shows its dark dirty murky messy monstrosities.
To create that space of light and love and strength and character and integrity and poise and resilience and ability-to-find-silver-linings TAKES everything. Every ounce of fight one has against one’s own darkness. To compute that space where things finally find their place, it takes every drop of glue of will one has to put back together one’s own brokenness
It takes shattering of self and reconfiguring into someone – the child, the future individual will look up to and look back and find strength in. In the smiles and the sermons, in the goofy dances and the ice cream binging, in the cuddles and the chaos of existence, in the time-outs and the story times, in the breakfast and the bravados. Fill it with love enough to withstand the loss, many losses that’s life is made up of. Because love and loss go hand in hand. Even if it’s the loss of minutes bleeding into hours or loss of the glorious fragile flower to the earth beneath it.
So, I avoid the news like a plague – it is. Because whilst the monsters make sensational headline; and yes, it is required we report for the greater good of knowledge will set you free but does it really(?) and goody two shoes look pedantic and contrived (some definitely are just that) - I rather collect the tiny mundane moments in my jar of alchemy – which turns them into fireflies.
Copyright©Nee