As I travel more in the journey of life, I see twists and turns, broad & narrow lanes, crowded and lonely paths – eventually leading to a destination that is not much different. What then really matters is not the destination but the journey. Once I am at my destination, I should look back and say – This was my journey of a lifetime and I loved every bit of it. It’s impossible to explore all the paths in a lifetime, life is meant to be a matter of making choices. Every choice brings with it experiences that becomes a part of me. Then the journey is me. The choices I make, the turns I take, the souls I meet all make the “me”. Freedom is the ability to make the “me” the way I want – good or bad or whatever in between. What if I am denied the freedom? What if I say it is all fate which is to say it is all out of my control, everything was pre defined – that takes out the personal responsibility in me. May be that again is a choice that we make – choosing the path of free ride or fate ride- where I wait for what “fate” has to offer.
From a delicate little sapling, grow up, spread out and withstand like the deep rooted tree. Be the abode to the multitude of birds, who flock in as the the sun sets and the darkness creeps in. Bear the fruits that nurtures the lives around. Let the seeds of goodness fall, spread and sprout for the children of tomorrow. Be the shelter, the shade and the breath of fresh air.
It takes a lot of inner strength for the sapling to grow into this tree of life.
The bud to sprout in me needs the sunshine of a dream. A dream to carry in my heart. A dream to cling & climb towards its direction like the grape-vine. If I do not have a dream of my own, I keep seeking a dream to cling to. Is there a dream weaver around? I could sprout in the dream weaver’s green house like the rest within the green house. The world outside the greenhouse is harsh and I would rather not take chances to have a dream of my own. At least there is a dream to cling to.
The heart when living its own dream resonates in harmony and there is melody to the life lived irrespective of the hardships faced.
Eve my Mother, intrigued by the reasoning serpent, opted to risk her comforts to taste the fruit of knowledge. Became conscious, self aware and was pushed out of her comfort zone. Rather than being provided she owned up to bear the pain of creation and owned up her life.
Was Eden indeed a state of bliss or a state of ignorance, a state of being unaware, non pondering and dependent? As a mother who loves her dependant infant and her innocence, my happiness in not in her remaining dependant but growing up losing her innocence to be aware of her responsibilities towards mankind and herself and take up the ownership.
From an Eden of being provided I grow up to be pushed out to create an Eden and provide the next generation.
The expensive pen in the golden case looks stunning and I say to myself how elegant it is. Her owner picks her with a pride but picks her rarely to sign an important document or a bank cheque. Here she lies in her golden case again with the same sparkle that had stunned me.
But I would rather be the pen of a writer, a pen he can’t live without, kept in the stinking pocket close to his heart. He picks the pen and pours his heart on to the paper. The writings touch a million hearts and the words become immortal lingering even after the writer and the pen has perished.
I am nothing but a “million experiences”. Everyone related in some way to my good experiences or even bad stay alive in me forever till the day I perish. I am the mosaic of all those experiences. In the same way, I live in the good experiences that I may have been part of for others. The more such experiences, the more immortal the “I” becomes. I will also linger in the pain that I might have passed on to any.
I am a part of many and many are a part of me.