Wednesday, July 24, 2013


In the idle minutes between turning off the night light and actually succumbing to sleep, I found myself in that strange world of grey. Thoughts abound, and so often as not, they did so subconsciously, sneaking upon the threshold of my mindscape to dance and flitter like fairylights. And as often said with coming upon fairylights on a stray path at twilight, you will not know where they lead you and where you end up falling asleep. Somewhere in that drowsy state I came upon the surface of consciousness severally, and surviving with a memory to put down my experience in words.

The day before comprised of several elements of philosophy – which to one other person reading this would be understood as an ironic pun that cannot be explained to others – that which was built upon by moments of introspection and retrospection. Some days ago I again stumbled upon this quote that read along the lines of how we learn the most from those who are most different from us. And perhaps that answers the long radio silence present upon this blog since the last few months. My words have fallen heavily upon the ground before they reached formative development in words.

I intend not to seem alieniloquent, though I realize I often do. Forgive me and stay with me, for my point is forthcoming, I promise.

Introspection has its boundary when one remains an island. Governed by the concepts of our experience, we often see the same picture despite revisiting the scene repeatedly. For our perspective is such that it is seen through our minds eye in the manner we recorded it the first time around. New elements are added with cognitive growth, yes, but often new paths to an experience are discouragingly less frequent as we plateau in our mental graph.

One might take an instance of a horrifying memory. As a child placed upon a towering wall that caused the knees to tremble and the lower lip as well, so inasmuch that we have been traumatized by the experience of being up so high and instilled with this fear of falling from huge heights. We remember, somewhat vaguely, the teasing jeers of our parents and siblings, perhaps, as they who had placed us up there told us to jump and they would catch us. But we are locked in place by this fear. And throughout the years, this memory is made concrete not by the physical memory, but by our emotional memory. We recall firsthand the feelings. Though we might have been but a small child as much as 4 years, we may take with us this concrete knowledge that we are factually altophobic. And yet, perhaps 30 years later, we may one day visit that ailing parent and take their hand to go to the local park for a daily walk for the elderly legs, and sitting upon a bench, reminisce as one does. The parent might point to a low wall or fence nearby, and chuckling say how cute we were standing upon that wall and crying for our life, when to our astonishment, that wall might not be even 2 feet high. Our reality is only perception.

A friend sharing a personal history lent an air of reminiscence that I hadn’t indulged in for some time. Doing so for oneself often leads to disgustingly morbid phases of self-pity. When we begin from inside and extrapolate it to our environment, most often we tend to become disillusioned because we have created our binoculars to view our surroundings – not just physical, but our place in life – biased with lenses of “me, me, me”. We eliminate our ability to accept through seeing positive patterns long-term. Often, remember I say, not always.

When another person, dear to oneself, comes to you with a problem, however, we remove those blinds of bias. Because we want to give them a solution, we want them to ease their pain. We take off the blindfolds to positivity and show them, by shining the lights brightly, everything that’s good about what they have. That’s why it is often so better to use that perception and shine it upon our own memory, for we might not know what we have been missing by looking into our closet in the dark.

I came across a memory that existed in the grey, and took it out and dusted it off last night. It is, in actuality, the point of all this I have written. This memory took me back to a memory I threw off, since it involved a bad judgement in personal relations. What I discovered rather was that these things, though seemingly regretful, often just happen like a stepping stone in a pond. Maybe that stone was a bit slippery, slimy with moss, as you tried to navigate the treacherous waters to the other side – or wherever you may have been going, if, as in my case, you had not even known where your destination was to be. But still that rock was there just as you were losing your balance, and desperately, you might have decided that it was better to land your foot on the rock, however risky it looked, than give up entirely and fall into the rushing waters. So you put your foot forward and let yourself lean on the rock, and though it proved to be a temporary mistake – for it really was horribly slippery, and made you again lose your balance, you then fell forward and, serendipitously, landed upon another rock which took you right to the shores where you were meant to be.

Let me tell you, I am so glad to be on these shores today. So much that, despite all the aggravation of the memory that I let this person do this, or trusted the wrong person, I understand that had I not, I perhaps would not actually be where I am today. It’s more a beautiful realization when I remember that I had not realized that I would. I acknowledge that I am still searching, so many other elements to satisfaction remain unattained as yet, or they come and go to provide me with a continuous task, but, today, for this moment, it’s as if I have paused a moment on the climb up the precipice of the tallest mountain, to look behind me and beyond, to that which I have encountered, experienced and conquered, achieve the wondrous expanse before me stretching far and wide. An experience does not have to be right now and up close. Seeing that distance that is so far and vast isn’t only for tomorrow, experiencing it now and today - that is what life is now.