torn.


What has kept me ill at heart these days is the ordeal in having to find a place in terms of a clear-cut, well-intended purpose. The lines have blurred and clarity is at times forsaken and sacrificed for the stedfast momentum in which things get to be carried in time towards their completion.

 I’m a little torn, and I don’t know what to do.


Deep in my heart resides this desperate need to bask in the glory of original creation, tending to the heartfulness of all matter. Midst these children everyday, I often get carried away in the monotonous doing of academic work, which is too dry. I notice how fast a child’s heart holds tight to the distractions of this world when its heart is not captivated, when it’s not magnetised by a beautiful experience to look forward to.


I’m not here for this dryness. It hurts so much to succeed in that— it’s been a blessing to fail in that perspective, as I’ve been failing for sometime. I’ve been judging myself for not being able to work on this kind of progress, but that in itself is the aversion of the eye to what’s inessential. I can’t seem to focus on the temporariness of worldly matters. My heart is pleading for a gateway towards the ethereal truth of giving gifts.


My heart longs for love. The unconditionality of it. It’s bountiful forgiveness. Its abundant limitlessness.  The gratitude of being under its wake. To give its gift and know that it was never mind to give— the beauty of being the conduit.


And it hurts to forget for just one moment the only truth there is in this world. It fills me with so much heaviness to go forth with doing that hasn’t been fuelled with the gift of being unconditionally loving.


I was torn, but now I’m not. Just a moment of remembrance and the soul is filled with heavenly sweetness and it ready to go back and be what it was meant to be.

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