Tuesday, March 07, 2006

Still waters run deep. That's actually a nice thing.

Recently there's this one thought that has changed how I deal with every second of my life. It is something that I knew theoretically long back, had read about it, discussed about it, and even lived it for some moments. But the thought perished a theoretical death, like all concepts do. If there isn't the breath of practice being sent in every now and then, the theory soon dies an obscure death. The sheer energy that 'practice' brings with it, is marvelous. I can only but marvel, at how realization is a thousand times more powerful and eloquent than my words. It's almost like realization breathes life into every cell in my body, in every aspect of my being. My words only reach the cranium and are then trapped inside.

So, sometimes, when words I read or hear strike strange connections, some quirky circuits come to life, and the resulting physiological state is what happens because of those little quirky circuits in my head. These are times when the words silently send a wordless message to my being. And the message is recieved. My conscious head of course, realizes all this only after it notices the physiological changes. So, as I have always observed, my conscious mind, my intellect, can only dissect the synaptic moment in hindsight.

The missing link, between input ( book, conversation) and output ( physiological state) is this whole ball game of realization. It is that lovely wordless state, when some truth seems closer. Or even as a part of me. Or me as a part of it.

MANY times, there are sources other than books are conversations. In fact, these days, increasingly, my awareness seems to be springing all kinds of nice surprises on my conscious mind. It could be anything, a plane flying noisily above my head, a pleasant evening, a dusty road, potholes, anything. I seem to be enjoying the company of my awareness. The more my conscious mind tries to relate the past and the present and the future, the more I realize that there is very little left to look back at, or to look forward to.

I have this feeling of being swept off my feet by a river that's actually standing still. A few years back, I would've laughed at this. The stronger the current, the more the awareness of its stillness. Almost like the river is trying to take me somewhere, but somewhere is HERE.

Of late, my work has kept me so busy, I've done little else. And Murphy's ghost seemed to be sharing my cubicle with me. Starting with my mother fracturing her hand, and me having to cook, clean, wash, iron, help her eat, pack lunch, .................. to shouldering the work of 2 people in office, other than my own work. Really important stuff landing on my rather inexperienced shoulders. The sheer donkeywork of it all... I HAD no choice but to be in the present moment.

The good thing that happened, was that I was no longer hopping from one present moment to another. Instead, each moment came, spread itself out under me, cushioned me from some potential thorn ( that my inexperienced feet would've certainly tread on) ............ and gracefully made way for the next moment.

I've been tested to the maximum, and this was a much needed prelude that my ears were waiting to hear. A similar life awaits me, somewhere later this year. And every fear in my head was banished into bright sunlight, at the end of 3 hectic months.

There's only placid waters outside. Any turbulence is self-created. We're just not aware that it's sometimes our own hand that's creating those frantic splashes, while our eyes look only at the surface and worry about what might be lurking beneath.

That's why I need a sense of belonging, a sense of owning all that happens to me. I need to be aware of the fact that I own whatever is causing the turbulence. Then, almost as an automatic reaction, we love whatever we own. The minute I am drenched in the awareness that this moment is the way it is because on some level I created it that way, I can almost see my frayed nerves loosen up and relax. It's amazing how just 'knowing' this fact ( that I was meant to go thru this) can make the problem facing me look like my own creation. We all love our creations, don't we? Till we see better. No matter how bad my first poem was, I keep trying to attach some kind of quality to it. Till I saw better. We all love our near and dear ones, no matter what their faults are. I doubt a lot of us feel the same love and tolerance for our bosses. It's all about 'owning', 'namma'.

This is the thought that helped me thru the last few months. This whole thing of 'owning', 'mine'. The same story works now, when I face an ugly situation at work, or if some rash guy cuts me off on the road and makes me screech to a halt, with my heart in my mouth.

I find, to my lovely surprise, that I don't have it in me to curse them anymore. Just a desire to set the situation right. By helping whoever I can, myself included. Just an awareness that I was meant to go through this because it was so ordained.

Not that I'm above irritation. Or hurt. Just that each of those is just one more of the many reactions I have. I don't see the irritation as anything else other than a pre-programmed reaction popping up. I own that irritation as much as I own my reaction to it.

:)


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