Okay, so I kind of promised this blog and I hope the sincerity of it shows through :)
In the last year or so, I have seen this twice - my sister and now husband going through the process of letting their car go. And it has been, to say the least - emotional for them! And I haven't been truly um supportive of this hardship, so this blog is my dedication to the loss of our latest "family" member...
I have a habit of naming things - cars, laptops, phones - anything I interact with usually ends up with a name. I am not sure how or why - but this car got the name Tracy. Tracy was a stick shift Hyundai Elantra and I have had a love-hate relationship with her. She was introduced to me at a time in my life which was a huge stepping stone for me. She was part of a hard uphill journey I had begun. She was a witness to that and always will be special to me for that time period.
I attempted to get my drivers license in her - attempted being the keyword. When the driving instructor sat in the car she was appalled at the idea of me having "two brakes" - never had seen a clutch before.. yes, that exam was doomed before it began.
She was the first (and only) stick shift I have driven. It was an empowering experience learning to drive her and I truly enjoyed it. Of course, we had to go through the usual perils of me learning to balance her uphill, not stall her when impatient drivers wouldn't give me time to change gears etc. Then came the summer when it was just me and her. She and I took our first long drive alone to Plainsfield, WI. Another interesting story, I should store these somewhere for future blogs :) We bonded strongly that summer and I think that is when we became friends.
And then one day while backing her out, I had a minor accident and she got a dent in the back. I felt so bad about it. I don't think I can ever back out again without thinking of that incident! She took us to so many state parks, long drives to the apostle islands, to MN. She was a connecting bridge from Illinois to Wisconsin to Iowa to Minnesota. I know she went on a long, long adventure from WI to CA - I wasn't part of that one, but the stories are there. I got my cat, Meethi, home in Tracy :)
It's hard to quantify memories in a small space of a blog. What is a car really? Is it just a possession, something we use and let go, replace? I think it's hard for us to let things go because we are emotional beings and we don't see a chunk of metal - we see ourselves. It is a moment in time, it is an age - it is that first thrill you have when you buy your first car. The first spark you have when you experience something amazing... whether it is a date or a fun drive with friends. Maybe even just seeing the stars from her sunroof. It is time which you've spent growing and experiencing things. The comfort you feel in your familiar seat, the touch of your steering wheel. You know this car, this car knows you - she is your friend and letting go will never be easy.
If I try and think of every moment I have driven her and the places we've gone...if I think of what it means to everyone who has had a part of her, of what it means to her beloved owner - I think it's an endless list. It's not about the dent, or the smoking engine etc etc - it's about being a puzzle piece to a lot of beautiful memories that have been created. She always will be immortalized in every picture, every trip and every story we tell of her. So are there ever really any goodbyes? Maybe just.. letting go, and letting her legacy live on.
Tracy... travel well, my friend.
Wednesday, July 31, 2013
Monday, July 29, 2013
The Bird
Day 225
Once upon a time, there was a bird. He was adorned with perfect wings and with glossy, colourful feathers. He was a creature made to fly about freely in the sky, bringing joy to everyone who saw him.
One day, a woman saw this bird and fell in love with him. She watched his flight, her mouth wide in amazement, her heart pounding, her eyes shining with excitement. She invited the bird to fly with her, and the two traveled across the sky in perfect harmony. She admired and venerated and celebrated that bird.
As time passed by, the fear of losing him grew. She began to have thoughts that kept her awake at night, "He might want to visit far-off mountains! How can I live without him!" And then came the fear that she would never feel the same way about the other bird. The fear bred darkness within her and then she felt envy, envy for the bird's ability to fly.
And in all this envy, and fear more than anything she started to feel alone.
Then came her thought: "I'm going to set a trap. The next time the bird appears, he will never leave me again."
The bird, who was also in love with her, returned the following day, fell into the trap and was put in a cage.
She looked at the bird every day. There he was, the object of her passion, and she showed him to her friends, who said to her: "Now you have everything you could possibly want."
However, a strange transformation began to take place; now that she had the bird and no longer needed to woo him, she began to lose interest.
The bird, unable to fly and express the true meaning of his life, began to waste away and his feathers began to lose their gloss; he grew ugly; and the woman no longer paid any attention, except by feeding him and cleaning out his cage.
One day, the bird died. The woman felt terribly sad and spent all her time thinking about him. But she did not remember the cage.. She did not think of the time that he had stayed trapped and close to her. No, when she closed her eyes - she thought only of the day when she had seen him for the first time, flying contently amongst the clouds. She thought of his beauty that had taken her out of her confines. Looking more deeply into herself, she realized that what had thrilled her about the bird was his freedom, the energy of his wings in motion, not his physical body, not the physical presence, but the places he took her mind, filled her with light.
Without the bird, her life too lost all meaning, and Death came knocking at her door. "Why have you come?" she asked Death. "So that you can fly once more with him across the sky," Death replied.
Death sighed and said "If you had allowed him to come and go, you would have loved and admired him even more; alas, you now need me in order to find him again."
She closed her eyes and fell into eternal sleep, ready to find him again, not possess him but love freely as he did.
One day, a woman saw this bird and fell in love with him. She watched his flight, her mouth wide in amazement, her heart pounding, her eyes shining with excitement. She invited the bird to fly with her, and the two traveled across the sky in perfect harmony. She admired and venerated and celebrated that bird.
As time passed by, the fear of losing him grew. She began to have thoughts that kept her awake at night, "He might want to visit far-off mountains! How can I live without him!" And then came the fear that she would never feel the same way about the other bird. The fear bred darkness within her and then she felt envy, envy for the bird's ability to fly.
And in all this envy, and fear more than anything she started to feel alone.
Then came her thought: "I'm going to set a trap. The next time the bird appears, he will never leave me again."
The bird, who was also in love with her, returned the following day, fell into the trap and was put in a cage.
She looked at the bird every day. There he was, the object of her passion, and she showed him to her friends, who said to her: "Now you have everything you could possibly want."
However, a strange transformation began to take place; now that she had the bird and no longer needed to woo him, she began to lose interest.
The bird, unable to fly and express the true meaning of his life, began to waste away and his feathers began to lose their gloss; he grew ugly; and the woman no longer paid any attention, except by feeding him and cleaning out his cage.
One day, the bird died. The woman felt terribly sad and spent all her time thinking about him. But she did not remember the cage.. She did not think of the time that he had stayed trapped and close to her. No, when she closed her eyes - she thought only of the day when she had seen him for the first time, flying contently amongst the clouds. She thought of his beauty that had taken her out of her confines. Looking more deeply into herself, she realized that what had thrilled her about the bird was his freedom, the energy of his wings in motion, not his physical body, not the physical presence, but the places he took her mind, filled her with light.
Without the bird, her life too lost all meaning, and Death came knocking at her door. "Why have you come?" she asked Death. "So that you can fly once more with him across the sky," Death replied.
Death sighed and said "If you had allowed him to come and go, you would have loved and admired him even more; alas, you now need me in order to find him again."
She closed her eyes and fell into eternal sleep, ready to find him again, not possess him but love freely as he did.
Sunday, July 28, 2013
Perils of Writing
Day 224
When I began this challenge, it was a way of getting back in touch with something I loved to do - write. I think a part of it was a childhood memory of how I used to scribble down stories to made up worlds and "escape" to a limitless place. A place where you're understood, and magic is normal, miracles happen and good things come to those who are true. There is bravery and courage, there is only so much darkness and evil that can go on till the light dims it out...
Princesses, dragons, witches, the normal kid discovering a magical world. Something beyond the ordinary, an adventure waiting to happen, a story waiting to be told. Older - writing became a way of channeling emotions. Must things we feel just be fleeting sensations - can we not find inspiration in our empty moments, in our strong ones? What is the point of our existence, if there are no witnesses? And what better way to document something that strikes you than to write it, to form poetry, or an essay - to immortalize our weaknesses and hurts into art.
So when I began this challenge, I guess part of me wanted to write down things I go through - the emotions I discover, the lessons I learn, the nostalgia - the stories I don't forget. Maybe just a sounding board. I guess what I didn't account for was that there are a lot of emotions we go through, when words are difficult to find. There are moments in our life which sometimes are so ordinary, they don't seem like anything amazing to write about, and yet those when gone leave us feeling lost. There are so many empty spaces in our vocabulary and expressions to share all that we experience.
I sometimes think to write differently - to force my mind to type up a story, make them laugh even when I am in a somber mood. Surely there is a tale, a funny list, a poem... someone else's words... anything but the quiet. Yet, I find it hard to do that - not because there is nothing... but because it doesn't seem to come from the right place. Writing has evolved to something so personal in a way, it's hard to not be true to it. And sometimes the quietness that surrounds it...the silent words we don't pen, they take form into something else. Maybe they are just seeds that will grow into thought and bloom into art... one day, till then...
Princesses, dragons, witches, the normal kid discovering a magical world. Something beyond the ordinary, an adventure waiting to happen, a story waiting to be told. Older - writing became a way of channeling emotions. Must things we feel just be fleeting sensations - can we not find inspiration in our empty moments, in our strong ones? What is the point of our existence, if there are no witnesses? And what better way to document something that strikes you than to write it, to form poetry, or an essay - to immortalize our weaknesses and hurts into art.
So when I began this challenge, I guess part of me wanted to write down things I go through - the emotions I discover, the lessons I learn, the nostalgia - the stories I don't forget. Maybe just a sounding board. I guess what I didn't account for was that there are a lot of emotions we go through, when words are difficult to find. There are moments in our life which sometimes are so ordinary, they don't seem like anything amazing to write about, and yet those when gone leave us feeling lost. There are so many empty spaces in our vocabulary and expressions to share all that we experience.
I sometimes think to write differently - to force my mind to type up a story, make them laugh even when I am in a somber mood. Surely there is a tale, a funny list, a poem... someone else's words... anything but the quiet. Yet, I find it hard to do that - not because there is nothing... but because it doesn't seem to come from the right place. Writing has evolved to something so personal in a way, it's hard to not be true to it. And sometimes the quietness that surrounds it...the silent words we don't pen, they take form into something else. Maybe they are just seeds that will grow into thought and bloom into art... one day, till then...
Wednesday, July 24, 2013
Sands of the Mind
Day 223
Silent storms stir the sands of my mind...
Cruel reminders wrapped in love so kind
The demons I run from surround me fast
Where can we hide, what can truly last?
Holding on we dance around each other
The fight's within, pulling me out further.
Who do I blame, who do I forgive,
The shadows of doubt start to flicker.
Forgiveness given yet the guilt does linger
A proud warrior was I, now a sinner I still fight this war
Innocence sold, I stand in the dark when I hear
my conscience shriek,
"Hold on to who you are...
The body is just a shell, you are beautiful
You are unscarred...
You feel shame, you feel pain...
You accept your crime.
You listened, you explored
The child in you led you on...
Lost you saw, but you returned
You have pride, you have reasons
The price is in your mind, rise from your knees
Forgive yourself, stand up tall now...
Don't hide behind the walls, don't cave in to the dark
Make the pull, the hurt your rein
Let loose your hair, let your eyes shine
Ride with the wind... Ride this silent storm
Leave the dust behind, of this storm that slowly
Stirs the sands of your faith...".
- RKS
Cruel reminders wrapped in love so kind
The demons I run from surround me fast
Where can we hide, what can truly last?
Holding on we dance around each other
The fight's within, pulling me out further.
Who do I blame, who do I forgive,
The shadows of doubt start to flicker.
Forgiveness given yet the guilt does linger
A proud warrior was I, now a sinner I still fight this war
Innocence sold, I stand in the dark when I hear
my conscience shriek,
"Hold on to who you are...
The body is just a shell, you are beautiful
You are unscarred...
You feel shame, you feel pain...
You accept your crime.
You listened, you explored
The child in you led you on...
Lost you saw, but you returned
You have pride, you have reasons
The price is in your mind, rise from your knees
Forgive yourself, stand up tall now...
Don't hide behind the walls, don't cave in to the dark
Make the pull, the hurt your rein
Let loose your hair, let your eyes shine
Ride with the wind... Ride this silent storm
Leave the dust behind, of this storm that slowly
Stirs the sands of your faith...".
- RKS
Silence
Day 222
I have been "silent" for a long time now. Sometimes in the mad rush of things, it doesn't feel like very long and in other times when we break a habit - it seems an era away. Either way, it seems like a good time to break the silence... :)
Had a lot of reflection on silence in the last few weeks. It can take on so many faces and represent so many things to us. It can be the awkward silence between people who want to share so much but are unable to speak, the awkwardness may be bred from pain, or nervousness or just lack of interest maybe. There is the silence of comfort... when you find no need for words, when every other sense is in overdrive perhaps - the silence of taking it in. Silence of sitting with an old friend.
Silence of the mountains, of beauty - of the majesty of nature, the power of it or the simplest creatures of it - amazement perhaps. Beauty contained so simply - quietly going along its course and all we need to do is stop and explore. While hiking recently, went over a region which I had earlier, but this time was quiet, there was no conversation and I heard the rush of water. Bending down, looking through a bush was able to see a waterfall, a small one that had been running under our feet all this while but had never noticed. Sometimes we see or hear best when we let our thoughts, our words go quiet - that is probably what true "listening" is.
Silence of fear... seeing someone you love in distress, the silence of death, of reaction... when you want to hear an affirmation, to hear something... anything. The silence of loneliness, when you feel like you're floating in a dark river, unable to reach out. You speak out helplessly, and the cold silence awaits you.
The silence of your mind when it is tired, when it is content... when it is afraid, when it is brave... Sometimes I think we are the loudest in our emotion when we're quiet. When we respond with silence, when we walk away from wrongs, walk towards the pull of our curiosity. Anything we feel most powerfully, at its peak...at the moment when you are feeling that, whether it is your love for someone or your concern, your fear - your body takes over the mode of communication, you truly experience that emotion and in this incredible state of being so aware of all your senses, you find yourself surrounded...surrounded by silence.
Had a lot of reflection on silence in the last few weeks. It can take on so many faces and represent so many things to us. It can be the awkward silence between people who want to share so much but are unable to speak, the awkwardness may be bred from pain, or nervousness or just lack of interest maybe. There is the silence of comfort... when you find no need for words, when every other sense is in overdrive perhaps - the silence of taking it in. Silence of sitting with an old friend.
Silence of the mountains, of beauty - of the majesty of nature, the power of it or the simplest creatures of it - amazement perhaps. Beauty contained so simply - quietly going along its course and all we need to do is stop and explore. While hiking recently, went over a region which I had earlier, but this time was quiet, there was no conversation and I heard the rush of water. Bending down, looking through a bush was able to see a waterfall, a small one that had been running under our feet all this while but had never noticed. Sometimes we see or hear best when we let our thoughts, our words go quiet - that is probably what true "listening" is.
Silence of fear... seeing someone you love in distress, the silence of death, of reaction... when you want to hear an affirmation, to hear something... anything. The silence of loneliness, when you feel like you're floating in a dark river, unable to reach out. You speak out helplessly, and the cold silence awaits you.
The silence of your mind when it is tired, when it is content... when it is afraid, when it is brave... Sometimes I think we are the loudest in our emotion when we're quiet. When we respond with silence, when we walk away from wrongs, walk towards the pull of our curiosity. Anything we feel most powerfully, at its peak...at the moment when you are feeling that, whether it is your love for someone or your concern, your fear - your body takes over the mode of communication, you truly experience that emotion and in this incredible state of being so aware of all your senses, you find yourself surrounded...surrounded by silence.
Sunday, July 7, 2013
In Transit
Day 221
Last few days have been a sort of whirlwind.. it's sometimes strange being in another country how we switch into different modes so effortlessly. Specially in the case of going "home" in my case. The attire changes, the language switches, the way to interact - everything. It's almost like a memory bank and stepping into the required shell.
Today has been an eventful day - with the sudden monsoon rains, the dedicated hunt for the famous "tunday kebabs" resulting in a stalled car in the middle of a flooded street, the random happenings all around - happenings back in USA, happenings here... and so many ways of handling situations. Everything has a way of working in every different place. It is a little bit entertaining seeing how things work in new situations. There are new rules to the game, new ways to communicate... different paths to follow. And somewhere of all of this, I do feel truly like I am "in transit" in my mind.
Home is such an abstract concept sometimes. Where do we belong - which country does our loyalty lie? Growing up, living and hailing from three different countries maybe has made it even more confusing for me. Could we just have multiple homes? I don't know - being surrounded by family and finding a place where you feel comfortable, I guess that is home in a sense. Though, I sometimes think of these different roles we take.. .I wonder if the skin we feel most at home with is the place we should hold on to? I don't know - I am pretty sure this is a common dilemma for several people...
Venturing out though, finding different shells, seeing different places, finding a way to relate... being in this transit mode is a fun way to grow and experience - every day an adventure, every moment a story to tell... tonight we embark on another one... to the Himalayas!
Today has been an eventful day - with the sudden monsoon rains, the dedicated hunt for the famous "tunday kebabs" resulting in a stalled car in the middle of a flooded street, the random happenings all around - happenings back in USA, happenings here... and so many ways of handling situations. Everything has a way of working in every different place. It is a little bit entertaining seeing how things work in new situations. There are new rules to the game, new ways to communicate... different paths to follow. And somewhere of all of this, I do feel truly like I am "in transit" in my mind.
Home is such an abstract concept sometimes. Where do we belong - which country does our loyalty lie? Growing up, living and hailing from three different countries maybe has made it even more confusing for me. Could we just have multiple homes? I don't know - being surrounded by family and finding a place where you feel comfortable, I guess that is home in a sense. Though, I sometimes think of these different roles we take.. .I wonder if the skin we feel most at home with is the place we should hold on to? I don't know - I am pretty sure this is a common dilemma for several people...
Venturing out though, finding different shells, seeing different places, finding a way to relate... being in this transit mode is a fun way to grow and experience - every day an adventure, every moment a story to tell... tonight we embark on another one... to the Himalayas!
Tuesday, July 2, 2013
Restless Relief
Day 220
The restlessness you feel, the uneasiness that stirs within you - the little bit of guilt, the touch of shame, the conscience moving, the unexplained smile, the softening of your shell - these are good things. These are things which remind you that you're alive... you are growing and expanding, you're living and experiencing.
Often times I hear people not wanting to feel bad things, not feel restless, not feel bad for anything - have no remorse... take no risks perhaps have no fear. These are moments though, when you're about to embark on a crazy adventure and you've this deep knot in your stomach, when you're out of your comfort zone, and you wonder where you are, when you take decisions you know you should make...but don't know what the next step is... these are the moments that are going to change everything. Not knowing where to go next opens up the whole world to you. You can rebuild it to whatever you want, you can enjoy discovering yourself again. Experience is a gift...
Where does this door lead, where will I end up
Am I too broken, will this heart be able to take it
I know I can't stay but I don't want to leave...
Am I too shattered, will anyone recognize me now?
There is a thorn in my joy, there is a prick in my eyes
I know I can't stay but I am not able to let go...
Am I too damaged, will anything ever make me feel?
I am walking to the darkness, giving in to the unknown
I feel myself get washed away in the wave of uncertainity
Brace myself, hold on stronger, wait for the rocks I will hit
But the warmth greets me and I open my eyes...
I look at the stranger staring at me
Hurt but wiser, broken but stronger, shattered but free
Beautiful in incompletion, nothing perfect nor impossible
Glowing in confidence, riding in curiosity, ready for the world
Robbed of so much but not of faith, not of the child within
I smile as I reach out and meet myself again.
- RKS
Often times I hear people not wanting to feel bad things, not feel restless, not feel bad for anything - have no remorse... take no risks perhaps have no fear. These are moments though, when you're about to embark on a crazy adventure and you've this deep knot in your stomach, when you're out of your comfort zone, and you wonder where you are, when you take decisions you know you should make...but don't know what the next step is... these are the moments that are going to change everything. Not knowing where to go next opens up the whole world to you. You can rebuild it to whatever you want, you can enjoy discovering yourself again. Experience is a gift...
Where does this door lead, where will I end up
Am I too broken, will this heart be able to take it
I know I can't stay but I don't want to leave...
Am I too shattered, will anyone recognize me now?
There is a thorn in my joy, there is a prick in my eyes
I know I can't stay but I am not able to let go...
Am I too damaged, will anything ever make me feel?
I am walking to the darkness, giving in to the unknown
I feel myself get washed away in the wave of uncertainity
Brace myself, hold on stronger, wait for the rocks I will hit
But the warmth greets me and I open my eyes...
I look at the stranger staring at me
Hurt but wiser, broken but stronger, shattered but free
Beautiful in incompletion, nothing perfect nor impossible
Glowing in confidence, riding in curiosity, ready for the world
Robbed of so much but not of faith, not of the child within
I smile as I reach out and meet myself again.
- RKS
Monday, July 1, 2013
The Ordinary Hero
Day 219
Small in person, but not in thought...
Quiet in words, but not in intention...
Bound by beliefs, not by ghosts
Shaped by experience, not by grudges
Strong through embracing fears that stir
Haunted but ready to love...
Shaken but ready to hold, to keep steady
Offering that which is lost..
Holding onto that which is hard
Following the light, is it blind faith
A fools stubbornness or a hero's story
Clasping, fighting but gently learning
Smiling through the panic
Laughing through the pain...
Steady feet carry her on
Steady hands hold her firmly
Small in person, but not in thought...
She ventures on, changing the world
Quietly, without words, but with intention.
- RKS
Quiet in words, but not in intention...
Bound by beliefs, not by ghosts
Shaped by experience, not by grudges
Strong through embracing fears that stir
Haunted but ready to love...
Shaken but ready to hold, to keep steady
Offering that which is lost..
Holding onto that which is hard
Following the light, is it blind faith
A fools stubbornness or a hero's story
Clasping, fighting but gently learning
Smiling through the panic
Laughing through the pain...
Steady feet carry her on
Steady hands hold her firmly
Small in person, but not in thought...
She ventures on, changing the world
Quietly, without words, but with intention.
- RKS
Needles of Need
Day 218
Needles of need prick us when we don't realize. We build ourselves up so strong, then find ourselves crippled by our needs... needs of other people, needs of roles others fulfill. We find comfort, boost ourselves higher, confidence, strength in others. The energy garnered pushes us forward, is this not how the human race was built - with connections like this, to propel us, to connect us - for our every thought and action have an effect? But what of when that need is taken from us, or when we're needed in ways that we cannot provide?
Anything that has the power to build us, often has the power to break us down as well... sad as it is, our greatest strengths can often be our greatest weaknesses too. Is not that which protects us, aware of our greater vulnerability? Do we not trust those and find comfort while handing over the key on how to unravel ourselves to the same person?
Sometimes I think we're so caught up in building and feeding these threads which we weave, which we are afraid to let go of, that we forget one important thread we should be building... which we should be holding onto - needing ourselves. The need for you, for you to be trust yourself, the need for you to accept your weaknesses, for you to forgive and indulge yourself... to allow yourself to exist in a space such that you are your own friend, you ar e accountable to yourself. While, the idea of being able to satisfy your every need with just yourself is a safe happy thought - I don't think it is the way we're meant to be.
We do connect, we do react to others, we must respect these strong pulls we have... but at the same time, I guess we need to know where to draw the line between gaining, learning, exploring, achieving through a connection and losing yourself...becoming irrational, demanding and lonely. Needs are dangerous things... needs truly are a state of mind. We shackle ourselves, we bind ourselves... as I said... maybe we use these for security, to propel ourselves... in which case, we also need to understand when they are weighing us down. It is then, when the thread of need you build to yourself will hold you steady, when all else falls... when all else fades.
Anything that has the power to build us, often has the power to break us down as well... sad as it is, our greatest strengths can often be our greatest weaknesses too. Is not that which protects us, aware of our greater vulnerability? Do we not trust those and find comfort while handing over the key on how to unravel ourselves to the same person?
Sometimes I think we're so caught up in building and feeding these threads which we weave, which we are afraid to let go of, that we forget one important thread we should be building... which we should be holding onto - needing ourselves. The need for you, for you to be trust yourself, the need for you to accept your weaknesses, for you to forgive and indulge yourself... to allow yourself to exist in a space such that you are your own friend, you ar e accountable to yourself. While, the idea of being able to satisfy your every need with just yourself is a safe happy thought - I don't think it is the way we're meant to be.
We do connect, we do react to others, we must respect these strong pulls we have... but at the same time, I guess we need to know where to draw the line between gaining, learning, exploring, achieving through a connection and losing yourself...becoming irrational, demanding and lonely. Needs are dangerous things... needs truly are a state of mind. We shackle ourselves, we bind ourselves... as I said... maybe we use these for security, to propel ourselves... in which case, we also need to understand when they are weighing us down. It is then, when the thread of need you build to yourself will hold you steady, when all else falls... when all else fades.
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