a daylight dream

My intention in April was to revel in the exuberance of pounding thrills. Every day, my one dear mission was to find a thrill to hold on to— a thrill that fills the spaces of my heart, trilling with melodies sweet and delightful, pointing towards daylight dreams. But there were none to hold on to. My days were serene. There would be this void, a distinct emptiness that would fill my chest. A longing to be free of everything: burdensome responsibilities, judgements, nourishment and all else. I felt the intense need to be floating in freedom of servitude towards God.  I found it hard to let go judgements towards myself. One morning, I woke up heaving with hateful words I used to utter to myself, blaring in my ears, bringing down awful illusions. I desired to kill those words, to burn this loathsome self-talk and be free of it at last. But it didn’t work that way, this too, had to be surrendered. I feel like life is guiding me, again and again, to let go of control. Whatever I try to cont

  I learned something crucial about myself lately. It’s astoundingly significant that I never thought I’d be so lost without it.. it’s my  heart . Oh, it is only my heart that makes me who I am. My heart sees.. it directs and guides me towards the sweetest spaces where healing is needed. It shows me the language I need to speak gently and mentor with graciousness. It holds on to dreams and enchants my whole body to roam towards them without needing to pay so much attention. My heart creates experiences, loves, feels utmost gratitude and intensifies every moment with a river of eternal meaning. It is my heart that allows me softness and ease of the journey. It envelops me in awe, tears all my fear apart and drowns in me genuine devotion. It envisions and imagines, decides and intends. It is my heart that liberates love from every exchange and every notion. It is the energy of my heart that pulls me towards dearest daylight dreams. Lately, my heart had been locked so tightly and pressed

I  think I’ve found one of those endless answers for my malaise. It does not solve everything, yet before I sleep, I ponder upon the notion that the only way to truly live now is to be of endless and eternal  service. I felt so lost for I didn’t find myself in anything I did anymore. The only thing that keeps me going is the simple hope that I could meet another’s soul and smile in their eyes, seeing them, serving them, loving them. What if this is what I need to do feel again? Let go my life to one of devoted selflessness and service. What if the only way to feel at home is to melt into another’s heart and see what they truly need to find fulfilment? Oh, I rest now in the comfort of knowing I don’t need comfort. I don’t need the self-care. I don’t need the boundaries of service. It is an eternal mission— exhausting, colour-draining and intense. It is silent and messy. Just look into my eye after a sleepless night on which I met the love of selflessness, you might find a trace of beaut

  I don’t know what’s happened. I know I keep writing about it, but I’m trying to understand. Maybe I’ll never begin to understand, but at least time spent is fruitful in the trying. I’ve been feeling so far away from my truth, lately. I’m so far away from everything I’ve loved. Even the children in my class, I approach them with a feeling beyond love. My work, my learning, my process, my dreams— all has become very fragile in my eyes. The thing is, I’m a little bit afraid. I don’t know how to continue living like this. I’m afraid it might impact all of my dreams and missions negatively. I’m afraid that I won’t be able to continue working as hard and as purposefully and that would make everything crumble down. I’m living with this fear for a while now. I try to do something new everyday, change my routine, read a book or a paper, bring some excitement, do some thikr to purify my heart— but all I want is to be entirely alone, shut everyone and everything out and live in silence until I

The sweetest fear comes after a time of sweet surrender, rolling around the days of spring and summer, making me wake up to an absurd autumn in my heart. It’s been like that lately— so much emptiness, and the world is beaming with life. I feel I’ve been born anew and everything I look at looks entirely unfamiliar. I feel afraid. I feel that I’ve lost my connection and intimacy with life, and the only way to bring it back is to sit in silence and aloneness for a time akin to forever. But don’t I have earthly things to do? I do. Yet, it feels I’ve lost what it takes to be abundantly generous, intelligent and strong. I feel I’ve died many times now that I need to be held in safe arms to truly learn again how to live. I feel afraid now, for I don’t know what to do to feel whole again. It is a sweet fear, but it leaves me neglected and forlorn— invisible and blended into the canvas of all the beautiful colours. Who am I?  I’ve lost all my words. I’ve lost my skills. I’ve lost my adeptness a

  Silence wraps itself around me, embracing me like a smile. Once, silence used to inflict me with so much toil, running around my head for words vast enough to express a fragment of what it feels like to be so small and so insignificant. I used to speak too much: meaning, I’d judge too much. Spending hours day by day deciphering the hidden processes beyond speechlessness, I’d break its sacredness trying to define it and lace it with a meaning too separate from the real thing. Now I think silence binds me to temporal ordinariness; an acceptance that as long as I am still human, there will be oceans of love that I’d never be able to withstand enough to pause and depict. There are simply domains that were not meant to be exaggerated.. In silence, all judgements fade and there is more space for the soulfulness of perception. Despite the colours of spring, they’re much gentler and softer now, as if revering their heart-throb in eternal gratitude. I, too, span the open spaces with silence n

  A vast part of my soul has been touched by transformation, and if it ever walks astray from the path of light, it cannot be tolerated as before. My heart has been bestowed with a torrential kind of love that opens all the windows and aerates all the crevices that have been barricaded by walls of pretend and inauthenticity. It’s hard to live like this now, and perhaps this week was quite ordinary, and I was back to my normal ways, forgetting a little bit about what I’ve been through. I can see now that there is no way but to truly step into that newer version of myself, and the entirety of who I am is slowly and more covered with the loving blanket of my soul. I’ve been reminded this week of how I used to not love myself, and how this is still deeply etched in me. There is a deep wound within that is soaked in harshness and a strive for competency. And whenever I find myself walking into that land of chasing something, even if it’s learning in that old way of mine, it comes back full

Every once in a while, I lapse into a bubble of numbness. It's not exactly numbness, but an indifferent equanimity, a restful episode of non-doing that is a little dull and guilty. When those kinds of episodes air in my soul, I usually feel quite uneasy. It’s not the natural state of my mind to be so passive and uninspired. Also, it is at those times when my doings are quite invisible both in magnitude and intensity. I don’t feel the vibrancy of my days, and it feels like I’m losing my spark. It reminds me of the days I had an awful relationship with myself. Those occasional times of numbness would cause me great distress for I’d judge myself so bad for not glowing brightly. I’d be anxious, measuring the impact of work and finding nothing worthy to measure. What is to be measured in a day that is restful, I wonder? Perhaps it is the silent gratitude of being gifted a day, breathing in and becoming so wholly nourished without having to do anything worthwhile at all. No matter how ha