Checkpoint 11/4/14

Tough times ahead. Figured I’d remember what I need to remember.

Grace to remember not certain work, but certain behaviour is what is beneath me.

Humour, because one can never have enough of laughter.

Courage to smile on the days I can’t. Refer above.

Patience to wait till the next corner for life to throw a pleasant surprise. Or maybe the next. Or maybe the one after.

Wisdom to have faith. Funny, I should probably be asking for faith too.

“Pull no punches”. One of the best pieces of advice I got this month (I get a lot, being 22 and about to graduate and bookish).

To not bite may be virtuous, but to not hiss is foolish.

Again, wisdom. To realize I ask for this for myself, not for others. To realize that how I treat people is my choice, and how they treat me is theirs.

Knowledge that I am worth every bit of trouble I take (and get into, for that matter). Also, I’m terribly insignificant. That’s a tough one right there to wrap a head around.

But most importantly, to dare. Every. Single. Time. Forever.

My latest salutation. “May you have the odds in your favour and the gods on your side”.

And oh. Don’t forget to breathe.

What They Say of Me

They say I'm brave. They do not see I'm terrified.

They say I'm impertinent. They do not see that a world inherited by the meek is not worth the trouble.

They say I laugh too much. They do not see that life is not for the grim.

They say I'm loud. They do not see that my silence has no place for them.

They say I'm smart. They do not see that it's exactly what makes me stupid.

They say I'm unsympathetic. They do not see how hollow a "I understand" sounds to someone in pain.

They say I'm wishful. They do not see that stops me from making wishes.


They say I'm childish to begin sentences with "One day in the future...". They do not see how every second feels like borrowed time.

They say I hate everyone. They do not see that includes me too.


They say I'm weird. They do not see it protects me against mundane normalcy.

They say I'm alive. They do not see that I had wanted not to be.

They say I don't believe in miracles. They do not see I'm living one. Just like each one of them.

Life,Blues, and Some Answers

I had been struggling since a few days to make sense of it all. People killing themselves, choices and consequences, acceptance (or rather the lack of it), and of course, human folly. In short, the usual drivel. I got caught in a Mobius loop of it all. I talked it over with a friend, and a few home truths came out.

Truth one. I am scared. I am scared every day of my life. If it goes bad, I’m scared it will go worse. If it goes good, I’m scared it will go bad. I’m scared I will not be able to cope. That I’m not good enough. That one of these days, I’ll snap.  

Truth two. I am confused. I revel in grey. I don’t put things in black and white. I wrote before of hating “straightlines and twisted logic”. I probably wear glasses to see things blurred, not to see them clear (this is metaphorically speaking, not literally!).

Truth three. I am never going to be ‘normal’, in the most ‘normal’ use of the world. I am always going to be a bit of a loner. I will always have trouble finding people who are like me (and consequently, like me. As in, ‘like’ the verb.). I may never get what I want of life.

All of which leads to Truth four. Ta-da! (Well, ok.).
When I say I am scared of snapping, I know that I will definitely snap. One day, but it’s not today. It’s never today.

When I say I am not good enough, I know it’s true. It also could have been worse. I am lucky to not be homophobic, or xenophobic, or bacillophobic. Or even a sociopath, for that matter.(Oh wait. I am probably that partially. Just kidding.).

When I say I revel in grey, I know it’s something I will struggle with for years to come. It also means I have a sharper perception of all other colours too. Specially those in people.

When I say I am not normal, I know it makes it tougher for me to survive. That doesn’t stop me from  knowing that I can. Not matter what, no matter how, I will see it through.

When I say I may not get what I want, I know that it is pretty much true, too (never mind what the birthday and new year wishes say). But I will always have what I need. Always.

I mentioned once before that I feel like a fraud with my words. Because they are just words, nothing more. But I still cling on to them, because, perhaps, they let me be who I am. And in my own poor, stupid way, I am an all right person (at least kinda).

And if the whole thing read too oxymoronic, it is probably because that’s exactly what it is. That’s why they call it life. Otherwise they would have called it three-cheese-and-pepperoni pizza. (I know you grinned at that.) 

Anyway

“People are like stained-glass windows. They sparkle and shine when the sun is out, but when the darkness sets in, their true beauty is revealed only if there is a light from within.”- Elisabeth Kubler-Ross 

The following poem is variously attributed to Mother Teresa and Kent M. Keith. The verses are displayed on the walls of the Missionaries of Charity's children's home. It should probably be displayed on all our walls. And our hearts. 

ANYWAY

People are unreasonable, illogical and self-centered;
Love them anyway.

If you do good, people will accuse you of selfish, ulterior motives;
Do good anyway.

If you are successful, you will win false friends and true enemies;
Succeed anyway.

The good you do today will be forgotten tomorrow;
Do good anyway.

Honesty and frankness make you vulnerable;
Be honest and frank anyway.

What you spend years building, someone could destroy overnight;
Build anyway.

The biggest men and women with the biggest ideas can be shot down by the smallest men and women with the smallest minds;
Think big anyway.

If you find serenity and happiness, some may be jealous;
Be happy anyway.

People favor underdogs but follow only top dogs;
Fight for a few underdogs anyway.

People really need help but may attack you if you do help them;
Help people anyway.

Give the world the best you have and it will never be enough;
Give the world the best you have anyway.

You see, in the final analysis, it is between you and God;

It was never between you and them anyway.

Will you Tell me Your Story?

Stories have always been important to me. My brain recognizes people by the stories that I know of them.Some call it a typical Aquarian trait, some call it childish. Whatever it may be, I have been blessed to have been told of their stories by many folks. Lives, successes, failures, loves, encounters, fights, glories. And every time I meet someone new, and hear theirs, it only gets reconfirmed,that every person has a story, if we only care to listen. 

I came across the following poem, and it seemed perfect to express in a way how The Story People came into being. It says exactly what I say silently, every time I talk to a person, every time I talk to YOU.

The Invitation

                                                   -Oriah Mountain Dreamer

It doesn't interest me what you do for a living.

I want to know what you ache for,

And if you dare to dream of meeting

Your heart's longing.

It doesn't interest me how old you are.

I want to know if you will risk looking like a fool

For love, for your dream,

For the adventure of being alive.

It doesn't interest me what planets are squaring your moon.

I want to know if you have touched the center of your own sorrow,

If you have been opened by life's betrayals,

Or have become shriveled and closed from fear of further pain.

I want to know if you can sit with pain,

Mine or your own,

Without moving

To hide it or fade it or fix it.

I want to know if you can be with joy,

Mine or your own,

If you can dance with wildness

and let the ecstasy fill you to the tips of your fingers and toes

Without cautioning us to be careful, be realistic,

or to remember the limitations of being human.

It doesn't interest me if the story you are telling me is true.

I want to know if you can disappoint another to be true to yourself,

If you can bear the accusation of betrayal and not betray your own soul.

I want to know if you can be faithless and therefore be trustworthy.

I want to know if you can see beauty

Even when it is not pretty every day,

And if you can source your life

From its presence.

I want to know if you can live with failure,

Yours and mine,

And still stand on the edge of a lake and shout to the silver of the full moon,

"Yes!"

It doesn't interest me to know where you live or how much money you have.

I want to know if you can get up after the night of grief and despair,

Weary and bruised to the bone,

And do what needs to be done for the children.

It doesn't interest me who you are, how you came to be here.

I want to know if you will stand

In the center of the fire with me

And not shrink back.

It doesn't interest me where or what or with whom you have studied.

I want to know what sustains you

From the inside

When all else falls away.

I want to know if you can be alone

With yourself,

And if you truly like the company you keep

In the empty moments.

[photo courtesy:http://www.flickr.com/photos/chatinthehat/1190818714/

poem cortesy:Oriah Mountain Dreamer:http://www.oriahmountaindreamer.com/.By Oriah © Mountain Dreaming,
from the book The Invitation published by HarperONE, San Francisco,1999 All rights reserved. I do not own this poem or any parts of it.This is posted only with the purpose of sharing.]

What do you see

What do you see when you see a person?

Do you see the lined face? Or how the eyes crinkle with a smile?

Do you see beautiful eyes? Or the tears let fall at night?

Do you see the smile? Or how it brightens others’ lives?

Do you see the upheld head? Or the battles fought to keep it that way?

Do you see the faded jeans? Or the memories of a romance long over?

Do you see the awkward shoulders? Or the workload of ten people?

Do you see chapped hands? Or how quickly they are extended to others?

Do you see the upraised fist? Or the feisty spirit?

Do you see the ready laughter? Or the warmth that comes of it?

Do you see that the nice shoes? Or the steps taken willingly for others?

Do you see the composed air? Or the personal demons defeated?

Do you see the rolling gait? Or the ease with which it adjusts to yours?

Do you see the folded hands? Or the prayers whispered in solitude?

What do you see when you see a person?

Do you see a person? Or do you see their stories?



feel free to leave a comment, what do you see?
photo courtesy:http://wootpix.blogspot.com/2011/01/eye-photo-manipulation.html