If you begin to understand what you are
without trying to change it, then what you are undergoes a transformation. – Jiddu Krishnamuti
I have discovered that I am a
second-hand edition. I have existed all these years based on what I have been told, steered by the
counsel of my parents, friends, peers, colleagues, desires, circumstances and
surroundings. The media has certainly shaped, moulded and influenced me to the
point that there is nothing original in me anymore. Nothing new... not a single
part of me is original, nor any discovery that I have made for myself. It took
me 45 years to realize that there was nothing unique, pure or lucid within me
anymore!
When I was young, I associated academic
accomplishments and being part of an uber-cool peer group with self-worth.
Well, turned out that obese kids weren’t considered cool...which led to years
of low self-esteem and a phobia of large groups. Empty book shops and libraries
became my cavern of solace. I convinced myself that aloofness and introversion
was the new cool.
As I grew older I worked exceedingly
hard at getting good grades, dream jobs, promotions, cabins, trophies and perks,
thinking that everything would finally fall into place. Surprisingly, it still didn’t. I had shed
all that unwanted weight, reverse aged and rearranged my goals, but I was still
unhappy. In retrospect, all this sounds extremely
irrational, but at that time all my choices and aspirations made perfect sense.
Yes, I certainly
proved to the entire world that I was intelligent, but this “proof” seemed strangely hollow. I had spent so
much of my adult life working toward what I thought were my important life
milestones only to find out that they meant nothing to me. Instead of feeling a
sense of pride and self-worth, I felt a sense of emptiness and loss. I no
longer knew who I was, what I wanted, my goals, or even a sense of direction. I
was a product fashioned out of the expectations of society, but somewhere in
the midst of that turbulent pretentious journey, I had lost my original song.
And then one day as I listened to a
bunch of colleagues rant on and on like a stuck gramophone record about how imperfect
our lives were, the drudgery of relationships and life, and a future of evident
doom, it hit me. This was not my song! This had never been me. My childhood
song had been all about hope, love, magic, candour, courage and happiness. When
did someone else’s mandate become my personal mantra? As I abruptly walked out
of that conversation, my quest to discover my true self began.
Somewhere along the way, I had allowed the
outer worldly chaos to smother my inner light and sense of true purpose.
Rediscovering my sense of identity and soul purpose became my burning mission
in 2016. The
universe gauged my sense of urgency and stretched out its magnanimous hand. A
series of interesting chance encounters, esoteric literature, healings and
meditations led me to understand that the inward journey is an
important aspect of our outer life. Whatever happens inwardly has direct
repercussions on what germinates and reflects outwardly. The inner light and
purity cannot be hidden, but neither can the defilements.
We mistakenly believe we can portray
something we are not. That is not possible. The Buddha said that one only knows
a person after having heard him speak many times and having lived with him for
a long time. Most of us generally try to show ourselves off as something better
than we really are. Then, of course, we become disappointed in ourselves when we
fail, and we become equally disenchanted in others. The blame game begins, and
a downward spiral into self loathing and revulsion in whoever we can censure commences.
But to realistically know ourselves makes it possible to truly love. For when
we understand ourself, we understand others...and out of that understanding
comes love. The kind of feeling that offers the light-heartedness to any
relationship or task at hand, which is so essential to the turbulent times that
we live in. By accepting ourselves and others as we truly are, our job of
purification, chipping away at the defilements, is made much easier. And our
inner song is finally able to break through the pretentious din and clutter to
radiate in its utmost purity and glory.
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