So here. I am sitting in front of my laptop all ready and possibly 'inspired' to type out an entire post of emotional outpouring. Well. Possibly.
I don't know when this started, this... this... or rather THESE constant waves of discontentment that has clouded my rational judgment, boosted the green eyed pig in me and drowning me in the bottomless sea of sadness. It seemed like almost forever!
And here's the catch. I don't know what it is i want. And because i don't know, i cannot get out. You know, when there is that little miniature devil and angel looking you, sitting on both shoulders, whispering sweet nothings (devilish bit) and hurtful truths (*sings hallelujah*), convincing you to just angle your head a little to look their way, whichever one it is.
Well, it's the same for me. Perhaps most of you have the angel winning you over, but more often than not, i have allowed the devil to turn my head his way. It's pure conscience (not that serious evilness that you see in scary movies. har har. is there an 'un-serious' evilness. har har.) truly exists.
And in all these tear jerking, pipe flowing, gut punching, heart aching depression, that happens to be the sequel of discontentment, i turn to my trusty ol Macallan bottle, well, too much a time (i firmly assure you that 'much' is the more appropriate word because, really, i've lost count). Ahhhh. The feeling of high. That bottle almost never finishes, maybe because i'm the only one drinking it. But ohhh i'm getting there.
I've been reading this book 'Eat, Pray, Love' for the last 3 days now. i'm off, on the last chapter, the Indonesia bit. Initially, i dreaded the india bit, because, lo and behold, meditation! hmmph. big bit of boring block.
But then, it became pretty inspiring i may say. It was a journey, reading just that chapter. I gave it an opportunity to prove me wrong, well, mostly, i knew i should give it the chance. And boyyyy, in it's most critical manner, it certainly did.
I wish i could take this know-i-should-do-something attitude and put it to good use, like letting go of this stubborn pain wrenching experience of mine, which i so happen to be putting myself through day after day. Fact is, i find it difficult. I don't want to. But it's eating up the both of us. Bit after bit. There is probably nothing to eat anymore when the last bite is gone. By then, i will need illegally prescribed anti-depressants. Because in the end, one of us will go. And the other is left picking up the broken pieces, possibly using elephant glue to patch it all back together. Three guesses who.
And right now, i am so, so, SO afraid of even text-ing or replying. I hope and pray to God, please don't. Not now. I am so afraid of what i'm going to say. Would i be mean? Would i be comfortable? Would the conversation be smooth flowing? Or would it be my darkest, most bitter nightmare? No. Not ready, not now, not yet. Not going to try to fix it for fear of disappointment. Yup. That's me. But back to the book.
There is this part, that tells me, bliss is always there. Question is, do you want it? So, if you do, why search further and make life so difficult for yourself? One ought to recognize pain and understand that it's there, it's going to be there no matter what. And in the midst of hell, despite those fiery pots waiting to burn you, well, hey, least it ain't frost-bite-cold there - my metaphor, not a good one though.
After reading this book, i am going to attempt meditating. I am going to sit still for two hours, i am going to put myself through a sore hip and the discomfort of having my big butt out of place which i initially would not have corrected. And if i can endure all these, hey, what's a little bit of irritation?
Zen. Maybe by then, i'd have changed my attitude towards this particular individual, or many individuals to come. Or maybe by then, i'd have cared less. Who knows. But let's find out.
To peace within. Aummmm.
