We all say that to ourselves. The question is: when do you say it? Do you say it when you are being rejected, failing, stuck, panicked, overwhelmed or alone? Or do you say it when you’re engaged, winning, changing things and are in the groove? Because the more you rehearse this feeling; this saying, the more it’s going to happen. We get what we expect. And we expect what we get. The easiest way to change this cycle is to alter the scale we play in. If you keep failing at the big stuff, it’s worth honing the habit of succeeding at the small stuff first. And if you’re finding yourself in a rut, a cycle of failure, walk away from that series of projects and find a new field to plant your seeds in. Advertisements
Sometimes one dip changes your smile and temperature. It takes you then to places that can only be created in dreams through memories ofcourse. You walk long looking at forms, colours, patterns, walls, speculating age, sounds of children and cows, of burning dead trees and water ripples, hearing bodies visually and later language. Sometimes a small reaction changes the whole tail of events. Sometimes the start was the only end. But the dip is important. Because that is the door to nature. And nature is within.
The most beautiful things in life work and are found in silence. So should be working of our stomach be. It is the home where Shakti resides. Feed her respectfully.
The world has long gone past finding comfort for humans. Comfort seems secondary. They might only say it has only started. Facebook and Google will leave no stone unturned to get even the last human trying to hide in his cave to the world. The momentum of the world trade and news constantly travelling is like making too much noise standing. IIam certain the race is not to find god but to become formless while living. One can argue, we are our own god and only us can stop ourselves from doing or not doing. In doing they might have exceeded their own expectations but every achievement is not the end of the story. The story keeps becoming. It is neverending. It merely adds another layer of truth, another variation of the result. How ever much our minds become digital, we are still a long way to forget our mothers.
Those are golden days when in you a confusion appears. Of paths. Two. Not same but similar. You are free to go on either. You have time and you have the means. Both filled with just your kind of memory pleasures. You can even smell that fragrance of the past through your memory. To both the destinations journey is similar. Similar. Similar! Can a journey to similar sounding places be similar? It will be of highest essence to learn which road will take you closest to your end. Unless you haven’t seen your end and lived it inside you several times before, you might only reach half way and feel satisfied. Because it is only you who will determine it for yourself, others will take part, some will show the way. Many shall distract. The end determines the journey more if not as much the process itself.
Father was speaking after a long time. He sat in front of me. His eyes were kind of sad but when he spoke, they spoke of a nostalgia that had come after a years of living in a city. Once one of our water buffalo had fallen sick, he started narrating. She had stopped eating. The doctor was five miles away. Being the youngest probably, I was asked to go to the village five miles away and get the doctor, I went and got the doctor on my cycle. He immediately saw her and prepared the local medicine. It was on the burner. He asked me to give buffalo the medicine once it gets to a normal temperature. For animals there used to come funnels. One can put that in their mouth to let the liquid medicine pass. We tried to place it in her mouth but she refused and after some struggle, suddenly she gave up and fell on her right side, not moving. My father ran towards the doctor again who hasd’nt gone …