Sometimes I wonder how peaceful it must be to be a tree. It's content with itself no matter where it is. It could be in a deep forest or high on a hill,. It could be in the middle of a city or on a deserted island. It could be in any far away place where no human eyes will ever fall upon it. And yet it is content. It doesn't seek anyone's attention. It only seeks to grow with the sun above and the ground below . It flowers even when no one's there to see or smell. It bears fruits that perhaps no one will ever eat. It lives for itself. Where does it get its will to live? Where does it get its will to thrive? I guess it enjoys the company I know not of. The soft wind, singing birds, gentle shower and all the nature. The hot sun, cold winter, harsh wind, it bears it all and it bears it well. Never complains. It may shed its leaves, may give up some twigs but come sun, it blossoms again. I wish to be like a tree, content and satisfied.
Little pebbles by the river bed, each with its own story.
Wednesday, March 28, 2018
Wednesday, December 9, 2015
Witness
The wind was cool in the night. That was the only thing making him feel calm. His head was so jammed with thoughts that the only thing he could do was to breathe. There was a dead quietness in the night which really wasn't quiet enough as he could hear the traffic. But that was good. It made him realize that there was life out there. Even though inside him life was getting sucked out by all tiring thoughts.
To get away from it all he started walking. As if he could run away from his brain. Just the movement made him feel like there was a purpose. And indeed there was! He could always hear his heart when he walked. He wasn't alone then. Listening to his heart today was like a beautiful melody. How curious... it beats in a rhythm but sings him a melody? He wished he could be by the river. The vast amount of water flowing. He could just stand at the bank and watch this eternal movement. Just being a witness. Enchanted by it. He always felt thirsty looking at the river.
Its not unusual for today's youth to have such life sucking tiring fits of frustration. A world of chaos. So much happening. Has our brain evolved to comprehend such vast amount of information available at our fingertips? What's happening in France? What's happening in Turkey, Russia? All information just a tip of a finger away. How is anyone to make a sense of it all? Was he a journalist? No, just a computer nerd. Then why does it make him uneasy going few hours without checking news. He was tipsy, more than usual. He always felt like some big important event might be unraveling in some corner of the world without him knowing it. And even if he knew then what? What does he do about it? Nothing. Nothing more than just witness. Just the way he watches a river flow. Standing on the bank of it all.
He doesn't know why, but some how he feels knowing is important. And more than knowing understanding it. That gives him comfort. That gives him purpose. Not to react to it. It's a happening that he just needs to observe and not involve. If he reacts then he knows that he loses his power.
The power to witness. He feels it's his responsibility. Not to judge nor to form an opinion nor to react. Just witness. The way we understand the movement of the earth by watching the movement of the sun, same way he understands or feels the movement of life by watching things happening, unfolding.
He doesn't choose what to watch. It's something that attracts his attention. He feels it's important for him to watch. Once an event happens he follows it to a point he no longer feels the need. What happens if he doesn't watch? It's like a river, it follows it's destined course when he is watching. Even if it bends or even when it falls. It's all destined. And if the river bends or falls without him watching? Well, that happens too because it's destined. But he is not aware of that destiny, and suddenly he will find himself not at the bank, but flowing with the river, not knowing when to turn as the river bends or when to stop before river falls. Knowing keeps him at the bank. Not knowing he finds himself in the middle of the flow that he doesn't understand the direction of.
But it's not just knowing. It's witnessing. It's understanding. Without reaction. Without judgement.
To get away from it all he started walking. As if he could run away from his brain. Just the movement made him feel like there was a purpose. And indeed there was! He could always hear his heart when he walked. He wasn't alone then. Listening to his heart today was like a beautiful melody. How curious... it beats in a rhythm but sings him a melody? He wished he could be by the river. The vast amount of water flowing. He could just stand at the bank and watch this eternal movement. Just being a witness. Enchanted by it. He always felt thirsty looking at the river.
Its not unusual for today's youth to have such life sucking tiring fits of frustration. A world of chaos. So much happening. Has our brain evolved to comprehend such vast amount of information available at our fingertips? What's happening in France? What's happening in Turkey, Russia? All information just a tip of a finger away. How is anyone to make a sense of it all? Was he a journalist? No, just a computer nerd. Then why does it make him uneasy going few hours without checking news. He was tipsy, more than usual. He always felt like some big important event might be unraveling in some corner of the world without him knowing it. And even if he knew then what? What does he do about it? Nothing. Nothing more than just witness. Just the way he watches a river flow. Standing on the bank of it all.
He doesn't know why, but some how he feels knowing is important. And more than knowing understanding it. That gives him comfort. That gives him purpose. Not to react to it. It's a happening that he just needs to observe and not involve. If he reacts then he knows that he loses his power.
The power to witness. He feels it's his responsibility. Not to judge nor to form an opinion nor to react. Just witness. The way we understand the movement of the earth by watching the movement of the sun, same way he understands or feels the movement of life by watching things happening, unfolding.
He doesn't choose what to watch. It's something that attracts his attention. He feels it's important for him to watch. Once an event happens he follows it to a point he no longer feels the need. What happens if he doesn't watch? It's like a river, it follows it's destined course when he is watching. Even if it bends or even when it falls. It's all destined. And if the river bends or falls without him watching? Well, that happens too because it's destined. But he is not aware of that destiny, and suddenly he will find himself not at the bank, but flowing with the river, not knowing when to turn as the river bends or when to stop before river falls. Knowing keeps him at the bank. Not knowing he finds himself in the middle of the flow that he doesn't understand the direction of.
But it's not just knowing. It's witnessing. It's understanding. Without reaction. Without judgement.
Tuesday, September 22, 2015
The Fall
Isn't fall the most wonderful time of the year? There is a faint cheerfulness in the air. Sure it's the warning of a cold winter coming up but at least for now it is pleasantly cool. Just after a long hot day a cool evening to please your mind. To Make you forget all long days work. You look forward to a bit of festivity and some rest. Just like in winter. Christmas, New Year and some relaxing time with your family. A year is just a long day. Spring brings hope of a new day. Cool and calm sunlight which gets hotter as the afternoon of summer comes. Year is just a one long day. And days go by so fast.
I love the colors of the fall. First on the trees. Then on the ground. It's a playground. The wind comes to play with the leaves. The leaves jump laughingly. The tree looks at the play lovingly. Leaves jump from here to there. They are happy to play on the ground, to play with the wind. I love fall.
I love the colors of the fall. First on the trees. Then on the ground. It's a playground. The wind comes to play with the leaves. The leaves jump laughingly. The tree looks at the play lovingly. Leaves jump from here to there. They are happy to play on the ground, to play with the wind. I love fall.
Monday, September 21, 2015
Pebbles
As I pick up this pebble in my hand I wonder, how long its been here? Where did it come from? It just stays here in my hand, like a weightless spectator. Without slightest care for what I would do with it. Would I throw it back into the water? May be that's where it came from. Longing to go back. Finally the moment has arrived. Its been touched and its life is going to take a new turn. Its holding its breath in anticipation. Any moment now the decision would be made, either thrown away in the water or laid back down where it was just waiting and continue to wait for an eternity. No, that's not the pebble. That's me. the pebble doesn't care any less to be thrown or not, its content either way. It knows whatever I would do would not be me doing it, but its own destiny taking its own course. It would neither have any regret nor any relief. My action is guided by its own destiny. Perhaps it doesn't even realize my existence. It was its destiny to be picked up by me and mine to pick it up. It was a point where our destinies connected. Are there really two destinies? Or perhaps there is one destiny guiding everything, me, the pebble and everything that exists in this universe, the gigantic network of endless possibilities of intervening paths, leading to one goal unknown yet to a human mind. The pebble does not know my existence, but I do its. It can not perceive me but I can. At least a part of it. Perhaps that's why I believe I am powerful.
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