(in Buddhism) a transcendent state in which there is neither suffering, desire, nor sense of self, and the subject is released from the effects of karma and the cycle of death and rebirth. It represents the final goal of Buddhism.
When I was younger I had this habit to attribute things to people, stuff like if like person X’s familiar would likely be a praying mantis because of her aura of perpetual meditation, or perhaps deliberation, and was not one to be messed with. Or this lawyer that had an uncanny resemblance and manner to a bulldog.
I grew up watching Avatar the Last Airbender, and of the four elements, earth has always been my favourite. I never told anyone this but I had this vision of myself as this oak sapling, that one day I’ll be this towering, formidable sentinel knees-deep into the earth, toes dipping in the water table beneath and branches catching amiably in the wind. They’ll be homes to all sorts of birds. I’ll be this secret place of contemplation for that harried student who’d rest against my gnarled trunk.
i read somewhere,
that your purpose is
to give your life meaning
Clever, i’d thought then
now, never a truer thing I saw
It’s all experience, hands-on
full throttle even when time
moves at a snail’s pace
It’s a real thing, to have died
and still, be breathing, limbs moving
It was/is my experience living on this edge
To know what it means
to have a freezer-burned soul
The thaw promised growth and healing
What’s good for me was not for the polar bear
Scattered around my body
are holes i dug with my
Like from the earth my mother came
ivy and moss flank the trellis of my ribs
to hold myself to me,
Perhaps, i realize, not so i did not fall apart
but to contain the new thing I become
each time i change
into the thing i’m supposed to be
i know what it means to
sit quietly at dawn and to
let the dew bathe me Continue reading
Hi everyone, I’m terribly sorry for not visiting in such a long time, sadly enough posting these days end up just being an afterthought. Today is Phagwah, the festival many of us Hindus celebrate to mark the beginning of spring. Today we throw coloured powder and water on friends, family and agreeable strangers (who can be of different religion and race) not only for the new season but also to commemorate Krishna’s fondness of pranks. This week’s Ermilia’s Picture It and Write! reminds me of the holiday, particularly the clouds. So here’s my bit. It’s been a while.
via Ermilia Blog, click the pic to see original prompt.
The pain at my temples throbbed like the beats in a Hall and Oats song. I stayed home today, and work was out of question with all of the indecision and confusion and plain all out frustration that had condensed into a dripping orb in my chest. I take a sip of the stuff of the bottom of my mug and nearly wretched. A day and a half old black coffee can do that to a body, served me right I supposed, I hadn’t gotten around to change the grounds. Nevertheless, picking it up made me feel a whole lot better for it revealed a recent postcard from some picturesque lake in Scotland from my best friend Riley.
It wasn’t very hard to believe such serene beauty was real, I grew up to long stretches of road with views of sun-lit cane fields on one side and rice on the other, took shade under coconut trees and shared that ever sentimental sky. Instead of feeling homesick, I wanted to pick up and drive off to where the sky met the ground in the far flung horizon.
The likes of lochs and miles of impossibly high mountains were utterly magnificent to my eyes that never beheld them. Continue reading