Desiderata

It took me a while today to write this out - and I loved every minute of it.  I loved the voice reading this poem out too.

Said a blade of grass

I was reminded of Kahlil Gibran's "Said a blade of grass" poem several times over the last week.  Both in my own behaviour, & others I observed through the looking glass we all live in now, the ubiquitous "video call".  

They say we've found & adapted to this "new normal", like the behaviour is any different from the usual shitty pre-COVID19 ones. 

The road not taken

It's been a couple of poems inspired by a YouTube channel I stumbled upon over the weekend.

Poems

The laughing heart

Noodling on doodles

I spend a little time every day on drills, as they call them. Thousands of little ovals of various shapes & sizes. Rapid ovals & push-pulls. Using every muscle in the hand, arm, & occasionally the shoulder. Changing direction midway.                                                                      On some days, inspiration strikes. Some random YouTube video or a picture someone has posted of their own creation, something beautiful. I know there's no way I'll be able to match the perfection captured in those videos/pictures, but I keep that as a guide while I scrawl on my scrapbook. 

Sometimes, a random thought strikes midway through the drills, taking the mind's eye away from the concentration required for the physical hand-eye coordination.  The damage on the attempted creation is real. You may disagree, dear two regular readers, but I see everything that's wrong on that page. Including how I didn't even bother closing the blinds from the morning sun when I took the picture. 

What's the point of these drills? What's the point of copying someone else? Why post a picture every day? Why bother vomiting a few words on this blog? 

What's the point of anything, really? 

"We don't find meaning in life, in our work. We give meaning to what we do." Those words ring out quite a few times through the day for me, especially in these isolation days. 

First Principles

Ideas

Like most people, I have a thousand ideas a day. I've been trying to write down 10 11 a day, and by all accounts, they are lousy.  Crumpling the paper they're written on & throwing it in the bin is a fine emotion (lol) - and a vote of confidence in my own ability that I can come up with 10 or 11 more tomorrow.  

Quote found in Austin Kleon's wonderful book "Steal like an artist".

 

Psychological Safety

Oh, the comfort -- the inexpressible comfort of feeling safe with a person -- having neither to weigh thoughts nor measure words, but pouring them all right out, just as they are, chaff and grain together, certain that a faithful hand will take and sift them, keep what is worth keeping, and with the breath of kindness blow the rest away. -Dinah Maria Mulock Craik, poet and novelist (20 Apr 1826-1887)

Those words took my breath away. They reminded me of all the people who have come into my life & listen to me - just listen, without judgement, let me vent it all out. Holding my confidence, being kind.  My gratitude remains, even if I haven't remained in touch.  

If only I could remember to be that person more often.  

Peace and Joy

Mood switching

There's a bunch of people I haven't spoken to in a while. I've slowly gotten around to calling or texting them. Some of those conversations have pulled me out of my miserable isolation thoughts because I didn't have time to think about them.

Mental Fitouts

 

"Once we are destined to live out our lives in the prison of our mind, our one duty is to furnish it well."

Clay Pigeons

Several conversations today have me thinking of the lyrics to this song.  Being holed up in our homes, it appears, is not a particularly good place to be. The soft silent voice in the still of our own beings is drowned out by the cacophony of the opinions we ask of everyone else.

John Prine's passing has affected me in a way I don't understand. I didn't know the  man personally. Heck, I didn't even discover his music until just a few years ago. 

Clay Pigeons wasn't one of John's original songs but I heard this version of Blaze Foley's composition, so I've credited it to him here.

Attention

The lyrics of a John Prine song playing in the background got my attention as I was writing this. "Simple" replaced "single".

I was listening to this. RIP John, you will be sorely missed.

Hunger

"There is hunger for ordinary bread and there is hunger for love, for kindness, for thoughtfulness; and this is the great poverty that makes people suffer so much" - Mother Teresa. 

While I was writing this, I was thinking of so many of my friends & acquaintances. It stuck me also that I (& very likely you too) are no different in our hunger. 

Cloistered indoors thanks to an invisible enemy, we humans all crave for all the things we miss. And there's no one to rail against. The virus doesn't really care how rich you are, what color your skin is, how good the healthcare system in your country is. (It doesn't seem to stop humans railing against each other though). 

Regardless of the progress we humans have made, our poverty as Mother Teresa says, continues unabated. There are occasional pockets of love, of kindness, of thoughtfulness and they are the virus I hope spread faster than the contemporary one. 

Purpose

Persistence

There are times when the going seems impossible. It's also the time when the going is also important.

Two weeks ago, inspired by a colleague, I decided to try the 100 pushups challenge. I didn't quite read the challenge for the entire first week, and given that I had never tried to do any pushups consistently, I only attempted the Day 1 routine through the first week. 

The second week of doing Week 1 was better. I collapsed every day in a heap, exhausted with the effort, but I survived it.

This morning was Day 1 of Week 2. The challenge was to do 9 - 11 - 8 - 8 - 11+ push-ups. I attempted it first thing in the morning, and I'm glad I did, because the rest of the day was me glued to my chair. 

I don't know what I'll find through this challenge, but one thing is certain. Rep 5 is when "keep on going" feels impossible. And still I persist. 

Health

A bit like Life itself, the writing today was full on (stuffed that page to the brim!) &  had all sorts of things going on:

at least three hands (styles), a line that went wonky because I wasn't paying attention, three colours, and a random pattern that jumped out as I was writing the second line: both quotes by people whose last names begin with the letter E.

Worries

An useful reminder, especially in these days.

Control