We are all pieces,
trying to find the best fit for all our edges; grappling with self, with life
and with purpose.
Today I found
myself feeling every thought that traipsed across my mind, not just thinking
and analyzing on auto pilot but feeling them… each one of them.
A neighbor lost one
of her sons to complications of cancer, a friend lost a friend to depression;
another one lost a girlfriend to murkiness. I devoured books like someone out
of prison. I took impulsive drives in impulsive rains. I forgot obvious words
in the middle of sentences. Basically I ran out of words. Bundled up on
emotions; every single one of the senses taut and alert and me just the
audience.
It’s been a drama
of a week.
On Monday in the wake of a dramatic weekend and in wake of series of arguments with the manager and the way things are at work, politically, dirty, I decided to drown myself in work. And did just that! Dive down and there’s plenty to do, some oysters to find, some pearls to be discovered and some simple wonders of everyday. The beauty of being busy! The magic of mundane.
On Monday in the wake of a dramatic weekend and in wake of series of arguments with the manager and the way things are at work, politically, dirty, I decided to drown myself in work. And did just that! Dive down and there’s plenty to do, some oysters to find, some pearls to be discovered and some simple wonders of everyday. The beauty of being busy! The magic of mundane.
On Tuesday an
impromptu coffee meeting and then what looked like escape begins to look like
destination of some form. I stayed up till nearly midnight. Reading. Thinking.
Hurting. Dreaming. Calming myself down. It is kind of surreal to see yourself
through the motions of emotions. Be this high octane drama queen one moment and
lovelorn lost soul next to completely sorted strategist the very next second. Like
Magic.
On Wednesday I stayed up until midnight, talking, wanting to just go out and chill; while trying to make sense of the addiction to drama. Why does he do this? Really? I am at a point in my existence where even a hint of anything over the top, dramatic, scares the hell. Drains the premium Qi away! And, then I just gave up trying to fight the illogic. Trying to draw some semblance of sense. Why bother? Not with apathy… but with compassion and understanding that everyone needs to, has a right to make their own brand of mistakes, missteps and evolve from there. Caterpillar to Butterfly is messy and yet Magic.
On Wednesday I stayed up until midnight, talking, wanting to just go out and chill; while trying to make sense of the addiction to drama. Why does he do this? Really? I am at a point in my existence where even a hint of anything over the top, dramatic, scares the hell. Drains the premium Qi away! And, then I just gave up trying to fight the illogic. Trying to draw some semblance of sense. Why bother? Not with apathy… but with compassion and understanding that everyone needs to, has a right to make their own brand of mistakes, missteps and evolve from there. Caterpillar to Butterfly is messy and yet Magic.
On Thursday took a
detour from norm and went out pub hopping; on an invitation; invitation of an
impulse! Reached home and collapsed into bed short circuiting another scene and
another risk. And my five year old waiting for me and promptly falling asleep
holding my hand, was magic!
Friday was back to back meetings – strategies to be made. New financial year to be charted; excels to be plotted and then Starbucks. Catching up on space. On nothingness. On re-calibration. On curious quotidian. Nothing short of magic.
Friday was back to back meetings – strategies to be made. New financial year to be charted; excels to be plotted and then Starbucks. Catching up on space. On nothingness. On re-calibration. On curious quotidian. Nothing short of magic.
Now, looking at Saturday.
Day full of reading and wondering and laundry and chores and thinking and
obsessing. And now catching up with friends, picking up from last weekend…
A day of whiskey in
wine glasses, and wine in coffee mugs and vodka in beer glasses; managing
toddler time with grown-ups talktime; a day of letting the drama slide out …
and unwittingly it becomes a day of letting go, hanging on and keeping things
which matter, close…
For real life is
messy. And real life is murkier than any pathos can hope to be and real life is
richer, right here, happening, unraveling while we zone out…
Copyright © Neerja
Yadav