How Long?

Trust & Lies

Photo Credit: Vikram Phale “Wildfire Sunset in Yosemite”

When we Trust, what is it that we really Trust? Is Trust about someone other to be a certain way forever? Is it really Trust if it is dependent on some other’s choice?

Maybe Trust is just about the Knowing that it all works out right. Maybe Trust is about the ability to let go, knowing if it is meant to be, it will Be.

When we Lie to someone else, if ever, is it that we lie only to them? Is Lying anything about keeping the Truth to ourselves? Is it really Lying, if we are oblivious of Truth?

Maybe Lies is just what we believe or base our choices on, for comfort. Maybe we live the Lies that feel like they give us the ability to keep going.

Question is – How Long?

 

P.S. This post is a contribution to ForgivingFridays on ForgivingConnects – a blog by Debbie Roth that empowers through forgiveness and acceptance.

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Beauty in Resilience

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Photo Credit: Atanu Chakraborty “Ladakh Old Lady – Hard Labor for Living”

Note: This is a narration of a true personal experience of a profound mental shift, I went through. This was originally posted on Infinite Living on December 2, 2015.

I was standing at the busiest intersection of Mumbai, India, just arrived from US, couple of days ago. It was the end of June and rains were expected anytime, unannounced. I was there waiting for my friend to pick me up, to take me shopping for some rain shoes.

I was much immersed in the experience of being there, soaking in life moving at a fast pace around me. There was a sense of impatience in the atmosphere as there were too many vehicles on the road, to be able to move fast enough. Mixed in, was the sun, moist heat, dust, pollution and the blaring horns from drivers.

I was going to be waiting there for 15 mins, my friend called.

My eyes lingered and then my gaze dropped down on a sight, about a foot by my side. Just inches away from traffic, on the footpath/sidewalk, on a tattered mat, was a mother tending to her newborn …maybe a month or so old. She had the baby on her legs outstretched, no clothes on the baby.

My mind drifted very briefly to some memories of how I had lovingly purchased multiple things to keep my babies in perfect health and comfort. I was again drawn back to the sight in front of me. Words came to my mind-  hygiene, safety, nutrition, sickness – but I was again drawn into the scene.

The cars and people zapped by. But the only thing real for me was the mother taking care of that baby. Perhaps just like the only thing real for the mother was her baby and what she could do for the baby.

Flies were hovering over the baby. The baby was clean. The woman had a rag in her hand and a half filled bottle of water by her. She would sprinkle a few drops of water on the baby and then wipe it off with the rag, every few minutes. It was her way of keeping the baby cool and the flies away. The mother and the baby looked content, and for what it takes, doing ok with each other.

I was filled with love and inspiration for the duo. What endurance and strength they have been born with! What beauty in that the mother making the best use of all that was available to her, to be able to give her baby all that she could!

This experience opened me up to a different reality altogether. The reality of our human arrogance that equates a good life and happiness with wealth and all that it brings.

I remember only 3 years ago when I previously visited Mumbai, I had a very different perception. I used to feel sad and have tears in my eyes as I walked past poverty and people living in tiny made up houses with their kids roaming around naked. I felt happy and also guilty about having a beautiful house and a bountiful life. I assumed they were suffering from poverty. I assumed I was happy and was supposed to be happy because I had all these material comforts.

In the 3 years in between, I went through a profound journey of self-discovery, transformation and renewal. I could now see the world through the eyes of people who have felt like their body has betrayed them completely.

People who have to show up for themselves, each day with tremendous courage to survive, what feels like their own death, day after day.

The ones that go through pain so intense that they have to continually keep tapping into the pulse of life itself to find faith, surrender and the means to help them inch towards the ability to thrive.  

Having a house, the food, the comforts, all become part of gratitude. Body and mind become the primary dwelling and the immediate place of turmoil and suffering.

There is tremendous beauty in the strength and resilience that people show, in showing up each day of their life, to make the best of what they have available to them.

To me this day, there was no difference between this mother and anyone else doing just that. Having a house is not enough. What you choose while living in any kind of house or under the sun is what makes you what you are.

In that baby I saw a beautiful being born with a purpose. One purpose was to open my eyes to this beauty. In the mother I saw a face of pure nurture and love. I felt a renewed faith that we are all very well equipped for where we are placed.

In that mother and baby, and all other contrasts around me, I see no suffering, only beauty, grace and strength!

 

P.S. This post is a contribution to ForgivingFridays on ForgvingConnects. It is in the forgiving non-judgmental perspective of our circumstances is where we find our strength and happiness.

Do Nothing

RestHere

Photo : Vikram Phale “Rest Here”

Choose to often do Nothing
Choose to not play the game
Choose to simply stay & Be
Choose the seemingly insane

Try it
Do Nothing
For an hour
For a day
For a month

For any length of time
Know what really is the fight
Win over that all in the mind
It is the Brave
Who can truly rest on this planet
Their choices are such …

Just Be
Aware
Then watch
Prowess simply becoming You
None of it you feel the need to be shown
Yet you are seen as powerfully grown

 

Writing – a Journey of my Life

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Photo Credit : Manish Doshi

I have returned from my break absolutely inspired and pregnant with messages from the ocean and the sky. I am very eager to share them with you all, yet I am feeling uninspired to go through the process of making it into a post immediately. As if I want to steep in the experience a bit more and have the juices of the interaction with the ocean flow through my veins as if all mine. The message to become part of my Being. I can’t wait to get past this stage, pick it up from where I left off in my last post, before this deliciousness set in. I am giving myself permission to indulge in this space for a bit more.

I do want to have this following conversation with You.

How I became a writer is sort of an astonishing accident to me. I remember where I was and exactly the moment some words came to me and I was ‘forced’ to have those words typed. What came as completed looked like a poem to me. I was thrilled and absolutely scared at the same time. And more came and one more came. I was terrified. I sent them one by one to trusted friends, asked them if the words meant anything to them. I was so accustomed to living the surface level life (read turmoil) that this expression from the depth of my being felt alien to me.

It took me tremendous courage to begin sharing them publicly, as if baring my soul naked to be judged or accepted. I needed the kind approval from a trusted friend and sometimes my husband to hold my hand while I hit publish with the other. My heart raced a thousand miles an hour before the first like, the first kind comment came in, as a seal of approval for my eligibility to continue being whatever I was in this world of existence.

After each poem I often thought surely it was the last one, and looking around I always wondered where is this coming from? I just became insanely uncomfortable at times as if choking on words or tears and then it just became necessary to type all that needed to come. Often I typed words I did not know, looked up its meaning to find out it meant exactly what I needed it to mean and rhyme in the poem. Sometimes I made up words not in the dictionary, and they conveyed the right meaning. As some generous reflections and appreciation came as responses, I was utterly grateful as I was sure every time it was my last poem. The authentic exchange of perspectives and heartfelt interactions helped me thrive, grow, flourish and nourish my being.  In less than 6 months on WordPress I was amazed beyond measure at how a genuine word, true expression and pure intent becomes evident through words alone.

It got unstoppable. The poems, the prose, all came as these intense surges just wanting a place to land. I made a commitment to keep reading other writers because of what gift it was when they read me. Each one putting their attention and time on my work had my deepest gratitude that I earnestly conveyed through truthful response to their comments. I was able to post way less than I was writing personally. Drafts and drafts of different inspirations and topics that begged to be expressed have piled up to be published in some form or the other.

For almost 3 years now I have published 2 or 3 times a week, except about 3 breaks of a week to 3 weeks. Every single day reading other writers on different platforms and interacting through comments. The numeric growth of my blog followers and readers has been very slow compared to some others but my personal growth has been enormously satisfactory.

Until some months ago, I did not have mind space for adding pictures to my posts.  Slowly it started dawning on me that there were pictures taken by my photographer friends and those by my husband that spoke the words I wrote. None are ever clicked with a plan to go with my post. It is meditative and miraculous to me in how perfectly they choose to come together.

The emotional intensity from which my poems came have found a balance, my personality has changed quite a bit. I opened up to new strengths in my being. I have owned myself as a writer by now. I am going through a huge personal shift. I still have countless drafts and some unpublished poems and ideas for creating quote images. I feel immersed in this space of inspiration where I am soaking in some new energies and do not seem to have the mind space, energy and time to publish all that I know is waiting to be published. If you recognize this and have any advice for me, I am all ears. And if my sharing has helped you in any way then it is my privilege to be a channel that serves a purpose.

None of this was possible for me without You my friend. You know what you have done for me by being here for me and reading my words and responding. My utmost gratitude for that and our continued interactions and conversations.

 

Related posts :
Just how did the writer in me get born? – I realized that this poem had come through me exactly an year ago and today I have felt this strong urge to post on similar topic.
Top writer in Inspiration – prose

What do I Really Want?

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Photo Credit : Manish Doshi, Editing : Vikram Phale

What do I want?
What do I really want?
Everything anyone would ever want
I seem to have it all

Looks like it all fell to my lap
Just I paid with my life for all that
At times allowed my heart to be taken out whole
Be shaped like whatever anyone wanted
Often put back half used and cold

What do I want?
What do I really want?
Everything anyone would ever want
I seem to have it all

Now is the time
To ask for exactly what I would want
Until now I wanted just what everyone would want
Now is the time
To explore exactly what I am here for

My heart feels safe
In the warmth of my rib cage
Embody gratitude for all that I am gifted
Just not willing to stop asking more
Finally feel worthy to the core

All roles well played
Each and everyone, their’s and mine
To help me realize
It is me and my heart
Forever together in this lifetime

All else just tremendous perfection
Of how we find other in intersection
Keep nurturing our hearts
Knowing deeply “We are One”
Through eternity & this life in all sorts

What do I want?
What do I really want?
Everything anyone would ever want
That is exactly what I want and more.

 

Yoga – My work & Life

Life & Its Flow

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Photo Credit : Vikram Phale

Life and its flow
Seems sometimes so very slow

Life and its frailty
Seems sometimes so much vulnerability

Life and its fond fantasy
Seems to come with so much expectancy

Life and its fierceness
Seems to carve through as if merciless

Life and its seeds we sow
Seems they take own sweet time to grow

Life and its moments
Seems we always need to augment

Life and its juiciness
Seems to come with no exactness

Truly relish, cherish, nourish
In each moment simply perish

Allow each new moment to flourish
Simply living unbelievably merrylish

 

Ablaze with Truth

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‘ABLAZE’  – Photo by Manish Doshi

 

It is a visceral feeling.
The emotion of anger.
It feels like an old one. It is so physical as if ablaze.
That block, the lead block right on the core of my heart, it is heavily burrowing down. Into the deep abyss of my being.
Get it offf now!

I am angry. I am angry about smiling through it all …all these years.
I am angry that I had such positivity. ..all these years.
I am angry I had so much love and the need for love in me that I overlooked and even enjoyed this same thing.
I am angry that I wasn’t angry the first time this happened.

I am speaking the truth regarding this for the first time.
The truth that I had no idea of. The truth that was buried deep down to fulfill my other needs.
That’s it.
It has been my choice all along. To smile through it. To keep finding what is right in it. To hold it in my pot of love.

Today it is me who has changed.
It is me who has become aware of my hidden truth.

I am actually ablaze with this revelation.
With no skill whatsoever to contain it and express it, it has come as anger.

It is still visceral …yet it has changed.
The blaze has softened. I have finally seen it and honored it for what it is.
The iron block on my heart, still there.
It is so much of grief and guilt over my unskilled expression of my truth.
My assumption that it is wrong to feel this anger. That it is wrong to feel this bad, about something I accepted as normal, all my life.

Awakening to my own truth and suddenly choosing it and living it, is a very raw experience.
As if a rebirth into another person.
Definitely an unexpected guest, often an unpleasant one, in the lives of those accustomed to my smiling through it.
I decide to accept my anger for what it is.
I give myself permission to feel the human emotion of anger.

It came as a visceral wave of awakening and it has passed.
I am left with this heavy brick on my heart
I pour love for myself. Hold myself with compassion.

It is amazing to physically feel the brick soften.
And now melt and diffuse.
I feel space. I feel a soft strength.
There is a freshness in the way of my being.
There is a quiet quiet space of being.
Soothing and healing and forgiving.
I will stay immersed in this silence today.

 

P.S. This post is a contribution to ForgivingFridays of dear blogger Debbie. My wish is of self healing and forgiving through the process of becoming aware of our own Truth.

This post was originally published at This Glorious Mess on Medium