Having lived so dearly close to death, I find myself so ravenously in want of living. In want of being alive. The kind of alive that meant while you were here, you really were. I have been in odd health – recently. And being what I call a fearmonger that I might be, I have wondered what dying so young and unfulfilled would be like. Truly sad – however I don’t think sadness describes it right. It is the kind of pain no words can describe, if you one had the chance to reflect on it after dying.
I randomly like to read about people who have done stuff. Just you know any kind of stuff. It could be writing, designing buildings, creating whole new industries or just being Warren Buffet – who I find a most impressive human. What I find common amongst the most impressive humans to grace the earth is a culture of silence. Something so impossible to find in todays world.
I am fortunate enough to ply public transport frequently and for the life of me, I cannot understand seemingly educated adults who chose to play privately viewed media or entertainment in a lound enough volume for all people 10km around to listen to. But that is a common happening in my society. External noise. The noise is endless in todays world. Being still and silent is a forgotten art. But this is just me ranting. The real problem is the noise inside.
Barely 7 years back I loved to watch the moon. I would seat in my room and look out the window and just stare at the moon for hours. My mind would wander, I still loved music, in it’s quiet and still form, and excellent lyrics,and it and tea where my moon watching companion.
So I look back and wonder if I last truly lived 7 years ago. The kind of living one did with many ounces of audacity. Maybe I am stuck in that time frame. What even is this life I ask myself frequently. Have I truly given my all, living, to being here? I know the answer for me. I am curious what it is for you.
Do you practice stillness and silence? Do you give your all?
