Today sitting by the huge glass window of Ashish's penthouse on the eighth floor, overlooking lush green agriculture field, where birds of varied description fly, feed, i am wondering all that is happening to me, and the way i am reacting to it, by shunning the need to react, and go in a shell, to recuperate, and do things that is required of me, and not that i crave for, and wait for the season to change, hopefully for better. It is hot and sultry now. I am sweating.
Khalil Gibran has said things that make perfect sense to me this morning. You are good, you strive to give of yourself. Yet you are not evil when you seek to gain for yourself. I want to believe in this. There is a middle ground. Absence of good is not necessarily evil.
For friendship: he is your field which you sow with love and yield with thanksgiving. That is not always true. It has to be true. My mind perhaps fails to register sometimes.
The "I" in me, my friend dwells, in the house of silence, and there it shall remain for ever more, unperceived, unapproachable.
Sitting alone and writing, and you find a book,that you should actually avoid reading, but can't put it down, for it tells you what you want to hear, you end up reading random passages, start quoting from it recklessly. Here is more of Gibran:
My friend, thou art good and cautious and wise; nay, thou art perfect-and I,too speak with thee wisely and cautiously. And yet I am mad. But I mask my madness. I would be mad alone.
Thou canst understand my seafaring thoughts, nor would I have thee understand. I would be at sea alone.
Solitude is the ally of sorrow as well as a companion of spiritual exaltation.
Your pain is the breaking of the shell that encloses your understanding. ...and you would accept the seasons of your heart, even as you have always accepted the season that pass over your fields. And you would watch with serenity through the winters of your grief. Much of your pain is self-chosen.
So make the right choices. Life has to be a right mix of reason and passion.
For reason, ruling alone, is a force confining; and passion, unattended, is a flame that burns to its own destruction. Therefore, one must rest in reason and move in passion.
And remember, your joy is your sorrow unmasked....unto you, they are inseparable.
Enough! Time to work. Gibran is back in the bookshelf.