AI

Acceptance is the most unforgivable disservice to oneself if it’s a choice, chosen each time to defer oneself of what could be. It’s this idea of “carrying on” within an outline of social security that limits the self not only from seeing beyond, but from even wondering of a fuller journey. To not allow oneself to wonder, to be afraid of the passion it might accidentally spark is beyond pathetic. The half thought of “if” today drags in a knapsack of the lost chances to the doorstep, looks the naked you in the eye and narrates you the specials from the glorious “regrets”. This terror is enough to cajole oneself into drawing the circle smaller each time.

Tell me “it adds up now” and I will shed a tear on your behalf. It does not add up. You rationalized the hell out of it, but it does not add up. You are not convinced and so you seek comfort in convincing others that your misery had a purpose. To fit things in retrospect and to rationalize choices has become our reflex response to “how did you get here?”

If here and now is the only truth we live (as told by Alan Watts), don’t we owe ourselves the truth of what got us here and now? Was it a series of deliberate moves or underlying acceptance of what happened?

I can spare the retrospection but cannot not excuse myself from introspection. A recent confession to a friend who did not see it coming brought on a dimension to my observations so far. Throughout the growing years, the finish line was fixed for each race. Each race was different in length, posed a different challenge but had a finish line. The end was certain. The certainty of the end was comforting. However, the races we run today don’t have a finish line to it and neither do they have a track. Sure, there is an illusion of a track and a mirage they called it finish line. Sure, it was promised to you by someone who made it halfway. Maybe they convinced you the halfway mark was the finish line. And now you are here. Are you convinced? Who is laughing now? Well no one. Not you and not the one who thought this was it.

With a moving finish line and no markers defining a track, it’s not exactly a race (well it never was to begin with). It’s a stroll and should be a stroll filled with a sense of wonder, one that consumes you but releases you with each breath.

“Yaaaaaaaar…….. sahi se fail hona chahiye tha” as these words came out of my mouth I realized the magnitude of void. A void that can only be filled by challenging and failing gloriously. The key is to mess it up and see the magic unfold out of it. No, it’s not the same as seeing others mess it up and learning. Stumble as you wish/will, bruise proudly, adore the scars and laugh.