a daylight dream

   a few moments before the night falls diving into a summer-like restfulness and the ease of surrendering to the harvests of these futile doings, I meet you in that sacred space emanating from within my heart. with the busyness of our days, I find myself longing to keep those temporary obstructions faded. all the preparations, one by one, paling just to see you. the true you— and nothing in between.   all I long for is the sweetness of your gaze, my dearest one. the warmth sunshine of it. the intention of your service. the depth of desire to be needed to serve the flowering of a soul so closely tied to yours. and now I see that to be this intimate with the love willed by fate, one needs to take this path and all its worldliness, to dissolve its opaqueness just so that God’s light can be seen through all of its weight, too. and dearest, my own opaqueness was also at stake. all the colours have dissolved and what’s left is a propensity for transparent lightness, just to se...

there are layers upon layers on reflections to haunt these pages just to reiterate how magical May was. perhaps it would be difficult to find the right words to explore its essence, but let me try to do so as poetically incisive as these words would let me. a heart was bathed off illusions. stories I held so deeply entrenched in my mind, making narratives for my hurt. I found a pattern which reveals my shadows— the tendency to negatively narrate the events of my day, binding them to a catastrophic bigger picture. something goes wrong, I link it a fatal flaw in myself, then link it to another fatal flaw in others and then in the whole society and the whole universe, finding myself tangled with quantum mechanic theories justifying the imperfect parts of situations. I caught myself doing that a lot, and perhaps it was the reason behind my lurking melancholy and misery. with this realisation, I found that I was responsible to keep believing that things are happening for me, not to me. it w...

  the truth calls for revelation, and I find that most truths come wordlessly, without a label. what we usually can point at and box into a right or wrong form is usually as ephemeral as the mind that recognized it. lately, idealists (myself included) have been obsessed with paradigms that regenerate the world, nurture it and find ways to honour its complexities. the narrative these paradigms tell are enticing and elusively mind-provoking, they are also ones that sacredly make you want to leave everything behind to fix the world and be an agent or vessel of elegant transformation. however, being in the midst of that, I have found that the more time we spend judging the world and pointing at the behaviours of our ancestors as wrong, selfish and diabolical, the more we divide, the more we fall into the trap of feeing superior just because we know better. in my work, having read all about ways to make my classroom more regenerative, I found myself judging the people who have built con...