I was just thinking about how some things in life are unanswerable, and sometimes I don’t even know if I am asking the right questions. My question would be- does it matter whether or not there is a true religion, could the world just exist without any religions? And be guided by ways of life that everyone can agree on. Like love, compassion, and forgiveness. Then people who choose to live in different ways- homosexuals, estranged from family, alternative jobs etc- they could live peacefully without that mental pressure that overwhelms people when they are different.
But I guess pressure is also good. Art and creativity thrives in dark times. If I was happy or content all the time I wouldn’t write, I wouldn’t want new experiences. I would just stay in my little comfort zone surrounded by Krispy Kreme outlets and consider my day to be good as long as I see five beagles strutting around.
Reveal the fierce urgency of now. Reveal how shattered we are, how capable of being repaired. But don’t lament the break. Nothing new would be built if things were never broken. A wise man once said: there’s a crack in everything. that’s how the light gets in.
I finished Buick 8 by Stephen King last night. I particularly enjoyed this part.
As for his questions and his childish insistence that the story must have an ending and the ending must hold some kind of answer, time might take care of it. Maybe I’d been expecting too many of my own answers. The imitation lives we see on TV and in the movies whisper the idea that human existence consists of revelations and abrupt changes of heart; by the time we’ve reached full adulthood, I think, this is an idea we have on some level to come to accept. Such things may happen from time to time, but I think that for the most part it’s a lie. Life’s changes come slowly. They come the way my youngest nephew breathes in his deepest sleep; sometimes I feel the need to put a hand on his chest just to assure myself he’s still alive. Seen in that light, the whole idea of curious cats attaining satisfaction seemed slightly absurd. The world rarely finishes its conversations.
For some parts of my meditation retreat, I was thinking about all my cravings and aversions. I want to live alone, independently wealthy (i.e. debt free from my parents), and not have any attachments to the world. My aversions would be people thinking poorly of me, not doing well in my chosen field, all the petty grievances that occurred as far back as I can remember. Primary 5, secondary 4, junior college, university. Things that I did or said to other people, and things other people did or said to me. Memories slowly float upwards (100 hours of thinking time and breathing slowly) and I started to realise how much baggage I was carrying around every day. Positioning myself to be seen in certain ways etc.
By the end of day 4 I think, or day 5, I was starting to feel a lot better about my skin. Partly because it got better, but also partly because I was able to see it for what it was. Usually when the rashes are fading they will leave a pale pink scar, or reddish-brown, or purple in cold conditions. I usually see it as something to be covered up which is difficult because Singapore’s weather is so darn hot sometimes. But after a few rounds of meditation I think I saw the marks and scars for what they are. They are just literally, marks and scars. It’s not what makes me feel bad, the cause of my negative feelings is because I dislike having those marks and scars. It is my reaction to them that makes me feel like hiding at home all day long.
But those are still superficial things- memories that are in my head, or things that I’m grappling with right now. It is said that when one source of pain goes away, another one comes up. And what used to be painful can become tolerable, and then accepted after a while. The bigger questions in life, like where is all this going (no one knows) and what am I doing right now (also, no one knows). To relax and enjoy the rhythm of life and to ask- “du iz tak?” Or, “what is that?” Is it a green sprout, or is an alien child? Or just nothing, nothing at all. Life can be as slow or as fast as you want it to be. Continually living in the present, or continually looking forward to the future, hoping that the years pass faster and one will finally be 30 and accomplished.
My posts on this blog are mostly ramblings. I don’t know how to explain my feelings other than trying to write them out. Maybe in ten years this will be a depository of thoughts, the in-betweens of life when I am waiting for something or moving on from something. It is a lovely feeling, to know that the important moments of life are either captured on your resume, or on social media, or in diaries. All avenues of recording memories are covered and I can try and see the world in more ways than one. No fixed way of expressing myself, continuously experimenting.