I chanced upon this interesting Swahili proverb - "Wisdom is like hair, everyone has their own!"
There is conflict everyday, around us, within us - and this blogpost is about dealing with 'em, wisely.
There's an infant fighting illness; he knows not why he feels so lethargic, and uncomfortable. He does what he does best - he cries. Those precious tears tear apart a mother's heart, that cannot tell what is causing such uneasiness and pain in her dear child. That day, she stays home to look after her kid; hoping the fever shall lyse and her kid will start feeding again, and laugh and cackle again in sweet oblivion. Every day, a conflict between health and sickness.
There's a child going to school, with his backpack of books. He isn't prepared for the test that afternoon, or so he thinks. He studies even during the lunch break. He forgets his book under his desk. And, as luck would have it, the book is found and he is adjudged to be 'cheating'. Tears roll down in strong disagreement, he opens his mouth to argue but no one would trust him. He heads home with his head held down. Every day, a conflict between perception and the truth.
The child grows older and identifies himself as belonging to the opposite gender. He has short hair but he's more feminine than his parents would like him to be. They would have him play football while she'd rather attend dance lessons. They would rather have him play the guitar, while she'd rather learn painting. Every day, a conflict between Yin and Yang.
Storming into adolescence, with a gang of friends, they hang out at 'cool' places, listen to head-banging music, watch off-stream movies, drink up, occasionally smoke up, and find themselves lost in the crowd. An identity crisis of sorts, often wondering if we could be better, do better. Every day, a conflict between who we are and who we'd rather be.
And soon enough, college days are over and we're dropped in the ocean of corporate work. Where behind those square faces, are years of toil; and thus, they expect even more from each batch of new employees. So, clocking 16 hours a day, he puts in his sweat and blood, until one day he can't take it any longer. His parents are separating, he stays alone in a different, unexplored city and he hasn't had time to make friends. He sits at the window sill, fighting the urge to jump... Every day, a conflict between hope and giving up.
He survives that dark night; finds comfort in the hug of a pretty maiden. They dine and wine together; unravel mysteries, discover new music genres and explore new domains in the world of literature. He finds himself a new self, happier than he's ever been. He's contemplating taking the next step, but he's apprehensive...maybe it's too early, maybe things will change thereafter. Everyday, a conflict between commitment and ...umm, denial.
He ties the knot eventually, and things are rosy in the beginning. But, with time, issues crop up between his parents and her; him and her. And they just get more convoluted with each passing autumn. In his life though, it seems like it's forever winter. They are the people who gave him life, she is the person who filled his days with life, gave him a son; yet here they were at loggerheads. Time stopped ticking for him. Everyday, a conflict between reverence and abhorrence.
There is some solace in being there while his kid is growing up. He has the father's nose but his deep hazel brown eyes are his mother's without a doubt. He wishes his kid to grow up and be everything he's never got to be. Bogged by the father's heavy expectations pinned on him, the kid chooses a different career altogether - he doesn't want to be a doctor or a lawyer. The white/black coats are not for him. He wants to go out to the villages and help empower and uplift the masses. Everyday, a conflict between other's expectations and own desires.
His parents are no more, and the apple of his eye, has taken up his own adventure. He is alone with a wife he has barely spoken to all these years. Trembling in the cold, coughing through the night, with blurry vision and an unsteady gait; he gets up to get a drink to soothe his throat. He misses his step and falls backwards, hitting his head against the floor. He lies in a pool of blood, it gets darker, and his voice is too feeble to call out for help. Maybe, he doesn't want to. Maybe, it's time, to breathe his last. The days of his life flash back, and he sighs with relief... Everyday, a conflict between life and death.
He is greeted at the gates of afterlife by a really old gentleman with half-rimmed glasses, a silvery white beard, looking at him and through him. Just when he thought, he was rid of conflicts, and having to make choices, he's posed a question - Hell or Heaven? He's confused. He thinks he deserves to go to hell, for all the innumerable silly things he's said and done, but if it were a choice, why hell, let's choose heaven! And so he walks in... to find everyone in blissful celebration.
And then it strikes him. We make hell or heaven, everyday in our lives. It's not a matter of afterlife! It's a conscious choice, everyday.
Time spins around, the skies dance above and the clouds pass by, leaving him untouched.
He wakes up to find himself, born again, as a butterfly this time.
This time round, he cries happy tears; lives an honest, complete life; balancing each of his wings, he enjoys floating amidst the garden, he seeks no pleasure in flying high with the clouds; he's happy with his family, his wife, his son - his happy tribe; live and let live; a life sans expectations, hence a life sans disappointment. Each day, no conflict, for he constantly chooses life and love. He touches everyday, leaves a touch of glittering colour, spreads his cheer and then flies away....
I've had my share of conflicts this week. Even at my workplace, I've found myself aghast, at my 'clients' even creating a scene in my room, needing escalation to involve other healthcare staff and senior doctors! But what touched me was one of them, coming to me, after it all and telling me they were really amazed at my 'patience'. Haha! Patients vs patience ;) Just kidding.
I had a rather busy week, working evening shifts (during the day, I'd add new dimensions to the house - including decorating the prayer room, setting up cosy reading corner etc.) and hence, decided to cool down by calling a group of friends over for dinner, post my night shift, Saturday evening. All's well that ends well they say.
So, guys, take a chill pill. Stay calm and float like a butterfly!
A week of chilling under the sun, and working hard under the moon.
A week of maintaining my poise and conscious choice-making.
A week of mindful/soulful resolution of conflicts and peaceful sleep.
T-13wks
There is conflict everyday, around us, within us - and this blogpost is about dealing with 'em, wisely.
There's an infant fighting illness; he knows not why he feels so lethargic, and uncomfortable. He does what he does best - he cries. Those precious tears tear apart a mother's heart, that cannot tell what is causing such uneasiness and pain in her dear child. That day, she stays home to look after her kid; hoping the fever shall lyse and her kid will start feeding again, and laugh and cackle again in sweet oblivion. Every day, a conflict between health and sickness.
There's a child going to school, with his backpack of books. He isn't prepared for the test that afternoon, or so he thinks. He studies even during the lunch break. He forgets his book under his desk. And, as luck would have it, the book is found and he is adjudged to be 'cheating'. Tears roll down in strong disagreement, he opens his mouth to argue but no one would trust him. He heads home with his head held down. Every day, a conflict between perception and the truth.
The child grows older and identifies himself as belonging to the opposite gender. He has short hair but he's more feminine than his parents would like him to be. They would have him play football while she'd rather attend dance lessons. They would rather have him play the guitar, while she'd rather learn painting. Every day, a conflict between Yin and Yang.
Storming into adolescence, with a gang of friends, they hang out at 'cool' places, listen to head-banging music, watch off-stream movies, drink up, occasionally smoke up, and find themselves lost in the crowd. An identity crisis of sorts, often wondering if we could be better, do better. Every day, a conflict between who we are and who we'd rather be.
And soon enough, college days are over and we're dropped in the ocean of corporate work. Where behind those square faces, are years of toil; and thus, they expect even more from each batch of new employees. So, clocking 16 hours a day, he puts in his sweat and blood, until one day he can't take it any longer. His parents are separating, he stays alone in a different, unexplored city and he hasn't had time to make friends. He sits at the window sill, fighting the urge to jump... Every day, a conflict between hope and giving up.
He survives that dark night; finds comfort in the hug of a pretty maiden. They dine and wine together; unravel mysteries, discover new music genres and explore new domains in the world of literature. He finds himself a new self, happier than he's ever been. He's contemplating taking the next step, but he's apprehensive...maybe it's too early, maybe things will change thereafter. Everyday, a conflict between commitment and ...umm, denial.
He ties the knot eventually, and things are rosy in the beginning. But, with time, issues crop up between his parents and her; him and her. And they just get more convoluted with each passing autumn. In his life though, it seems like it's forever winter. They are the people who gave him life, she is the person who filled his days with life, gave him a son; yet here they were at loggerheads. Time stopped ticking for him. Everyday, a conflict between reverence and abhorrence.
There is some solace in being there while his kid is growing up. He has the father's nose but his deep hazel brown eyes are his mother's without a doubt. He wishes his kid to grow up and be everything he's never got to be. Bogged by the father's heavy expectations pinned on him, the kid chooses a different career altogether - he doesn't want to be a doctor or a lawyer. The white/black coats are not for him. He wants to go out to the villages and help empower and uplift the masses. Everyday, a conflict between other's expectations and own desires.
His parents are no more, and the apple of his eye, has taken up his own adventure. He is alone with a wife he has barely spoken to all these years. Trembling in the cold, coughing through the night, with blurry vision and an unsteady gait; he gets up to get a drink to soothe his throat. He misses his step and falls backwards, hitting his head against the floor. He lies in a pool of blood, it gets darker, and his voice is too feeble to call out for help. Maybe, he doesn't want to. Maybe, it's time, to breathe his last. The days of his life flash back, and he sighs with relief... Everyday, a conflict between life and death.
He is greeted at the gates of afterlife by a really old gentleman with half-rimmed glasses, a silvery white beard, looking at him and through him. Just when he thought, he was rid of conflicts, and having to make choices, he's posed a question - Hell or Heaven? He's confused. He thinks he deserves to go to hell, for all the innumerable silly things he's said and done, but if it were a choice, why hell, let's choose heaven! And so he walks in... to find everyone in blissful celebration.
And then it strikes him. We make hell or heaven, everyday in our lives. It's not a matter of afterlife! It's a conscious choice, everyday.
Time spins around, the skies dance above and the clouds pass by, leaving him untouched.
He wakes up to find himself, born again, as a butterfly this time.
This time round, he cries happy tears; lives an honest, complete life; balancing each of his wings, he enjoys floating amidst the garden, he seeks no pleasure in flying high with the clouds; he's happy with his family, his wife, his son - his happy tribe; live and let live; a life sans expectations, hence a life sans disappointment. Each day, no conflict, for he constantly chooses life and love. He touches everyday, leaves a touch of glittering colour, spreads his cheer and then flies away....
I've had my share of conflicts this week. Even at my workplace, I've found myself aghast, at my 'clients' even creating a scene in my room, needing escalation to involve other healthcare staff and senior doctors! But what touched me was one of them, coming to me, after it all and telling me they were really amazed at my 'patience'. Haha! Patients vs patience ;) Just kidding.
I had a rather busy week, working evening shifts (during the day, I'd add new dimensions to the house - including decorating the prayer room, setting up cosy reading corner etc.) and hence, decided to cool down by calling a group of friends over for dinner, post my night shift, Saturday evening. All's well that ends well they say.
So, guys, take a chill pill. Stay calm and float like a butterfly!
A week of chilling under the sun, and working hard under the moon.
A week of maintaining my poise and conscious choice-making.
A week of mindful/soulful resolution of conflicts and peaceful sleep.
T-13wks
No comments:
Post a Comment