Fall into the sky
“This new city, so extravagantly ruthless and lonely did not take me in kindly. I am still learning how to survive with a blizzard in my chest.
Strong winds that built even stronger lungs, I have learned to inhale ice
and somehow not die.
Tell me, is that not extraordinary? I am such a summer thing. Yet I have remained. I have lived to see the sun again
I left to find a home
outside of what felt comfortable to me
and I found that home in me
changing
like a season I had never seen
I was not lost. Or running.
I just needed to relocate my being.
Just needed to fly without fear, trust my heart’s navigation
this beating compass has never failed me.
I am here.
Right where I need to be.
I am so
incredibly
Found.”
— Aman Batra
For some reason this piece resonated with me. Maybe it’s because I’ve had to endure New England’s winter recently. Or maybe it was the concept of finding a home within myself. For some reason I remembered The Alchemist and how people liked it not because of all the surreal mystical scenes but because of the concept that, “Wherever your heart is, there’s your treasure.” And how this Santiago had to go on this adventure to find his treasure only to discover that it was back home.
Things go full circle sometimes. Not always. Sometimes. And when it does, you find yourself thinking, why am I surprised by this when I’ve been here before? But that’s the nature of 360-degree changes. Talking about changes, when people make decisions, it’s very easy to assume that situations are going to stay the same, but we fail to see the transient nature of life. No, let me rephrase that. We don’t fail to see the transience, we choose to ignore it. People change with time, circumstances change with time, you change with time.
That’s the main reason why I don’t value the idea of promises much. I don’t make them, and don’t expect to receive them. How can you make a promise when there’s so much uncertainty in life? Uncertainty gives birth to worry and worry is not healthy. I would know because I’m a chronic worrier and I’ve had to collect techniques through my life to deal with it.
The easiest one?
Look at the stars.
Ok, I know we live in cities nowadays, so finding the stars might be hard. Find the moon instead. Actually looking up at the sky might be enough. Or imagining you’re looking up at the sky might be enough. God knows I’ve seen many variations of the sky. Downcast, foggy, clear blue, gradations of color associated with sunrises and sunsets. But all skies have this in common; not only do they make you breathless with awe, they inspire you to paint them with your dreams. They also make you get over yourself, because seriously, the world doesn’t revolve around you. If you think about it, you’re the only person thinking about you. Nobody really thinks about you as much as you think, and that feeling of insignificance can be surprisingly liberating.
You know the problem with us people. A lot of times we want to understand why. “I did everything right. I followed all the rules. Why did this happen to me?” We seek closure when it comes to some of our personal life narratives, and thinking about it wastes a lot of mental energy, and time. Someone I know once told me, “It took me a decade and a trip half-way across the globe to find closure.” And since then I’ve learned that some answers don’t appear to us immediately. They take time. Maybe ten years, maybe never. Maybe I need to take that trip half-way across the globe, but dude, where’s the money?
It doesn’t matter. Until the answer appears to us, just let it go and move on.
A Heart's Echoes 