.- -. -.. .. - .----. ... -.-- --- ..- .- .-. . whatever a moon has always meant and whatever the sun will always sing .. ... -.-- --- ..-
But eventually the encoding will wear you out and the symbols will become blurry in the tired eyes struggling to follow the sequence. Where did we stop at the last pause, where do we begin the next sentence. Real life like the Morse Code, just a sequence of shorts and longs. I must be colour blind, I see life as a rainbow, black stripes after the white stripes. The beat of it is a background. You have to add a vocal to make it a song. To embellish with the fancy passages and perform in your own style. And hope that someone will hear and even may join in a duet. Or a chorus. Or, perhaps, just dance for a moment to the tune you create. But what if you do not sing. Life still happens. The rhythm and the beat are all there anyway. A monotonous series of background noise. And you can choose to be deaf or to be daring. But in the end of a day the show will go on whether you participate or not.
Talking to someone recently I shared the basic concept of my current perception of life: do not push things to happen, just react to them happening on their own. What do you do when nothing happens, they asked. I retrieve into my other life in a parallel world of my dreams, I said. Does it mean you are generally happy, was the next question. I thought for a moment…no…but it means I am free to be happy at any moment when I choose. I’m not bound by obligations or expectations. And at the moment I just enjoy the stillness of the recess and a sense of readiness. Somehow they didn’t look convinced that one can “be happy” about not being happy. Perhaps, our definitions of happiness were different.
These talks made me page back in time and trace the different stages I’ve been through. Because I remember being different. And while it doesn’t bother me that I seem to have lost a “zest” (or whatever it is they call by this name), I can hear this half-hearted nagging from my own subconscious “move, push, go and get”. And I wonder why I feel such a strong resistance to this nudge. The trip down memory lane reminded of the time of limbo, the time of breakdown, the time of struggle to stay sane, the time of frantic search of what I am, the time of finding firm grounds to stand on and once it was all over, now I stand where I am, tired and weary but breathing calm and feeling peace. Finally a time of taking time. A comfort in just being. But also a realisation of how long already I am dwelling in this state of floating peace. Though I’m not self-critical, just sentimental today…