(no subject)
Oh, let me have music / Like you have music / Like you were just born
Earlier this year, I re-read Siddhartha and finally truly understood that life is a series of deaths and rebirths as we make our way to an ultimate goal of Enlightenment -- of who we are meant to be, living for the very fact that we are alive.
Sometimes I wonder if the people who've reached that point are the ones that are taken early in their lives, but I'm not so sure. There are plenty of people who are still living with a joy and presence that is inspiring. So let me put that away for now.
Now, I'm reading The Fountainhead for the first time. And there's a point where the character Peter Keating becomes terribly angry with another character, Guy Francon, for wanting his approval... Guy has had everything he could possibly want in terms of material possessions, power, and prestige, but none of that amounted to proving his own self worth.
Only being true to oneself at the cost of everything else -- a la Howard Roark -- can lead to a life worth living and, moreover, a life one can be SURE was worth living.
This is not really news to me, but I think it struck a chord because I now know just how easy it is to slip into a path that asks one to be a variation of oneself that just isn't quite right.
And how destructive it can be to one's sense of wonder, to one's desire to try things and connect with others. How hard it is to make a change because you're spending all your energy on trying to care about and do well in things that don't particularly move you.
Today, I found myself on the rug in my room next to my open window, and I was greeted by sunshine, autumn breeze, and by happenstance some of the most appropriate music for my soul that I could have asked for.
For the first time in months, I was reminded of what it is to be calm, to feel a particular serenity creeping out from my core. I found peace within myself, and was reminded of how good life can be, how lovely existence can feel.
Thank you. Thank you, thank you, thank you for a moment's reprieve; for a chance to remember what makes life worth living.
Thank you for reminding me that the small things -- something as seemingly insignificant as the breeze on my face and the rustle of leaves mixed with soothing, folksy, soul-felt melodies -- are what make the difference.
Earlier this year, I re-read Siddhartha and finally truly understood that life is a series of deaths and rebirths as we make our way to an ultimate goal of Enlightenment -- of who we are meant to be, living for the very fact that we are alive.
Sometimes I wonder if the people who've reached that point are the ones that are taken early in their lives, but I'm not so sure. There are plenty of people who are still living with a joy and presence that is inspiring. So let me put that away for now.
Now, I'm reading The Fountainhead for the first time. And there's a point where the character Peter Keating becomes terribly angry with another character, Guy Francon, for wanting his approval... Guy has had everything he could possibly want in terms of material possessions, power, and prestige, but none of that amounted to proving his own self worth.
Only being true to oneself at the cost of everything else -- a la Howard Roark -- can lead to a life worth living and, moreover, a life one can be SURE was worth living.
This is not really news to me, but I think it struck a chord because I now know just how easy it is to slip into a path that asks one to be a variation of oneself that just isn't quite right.
And how destructive it can be to one's sense of wonder, to one's desire to try things and connect with others. How hard it is to make a change because you're spending all your energy on trying to care about and do well in things that don't particularly move you.
Today, I found myself on the rug in my room next to my open window, and I was greeted by sunshine, autumn breeze, and by happenstance some of the most appropriate music for my soul that I could have asked for.
For the first time in months, I was reminded of what it is to be calm, to feel a particular serenity creeping out from my core. I found peace within myself, and was reminded of how good life can be, how lovely existence can feel.
Thank you. Thank you, thank you, thank you for a moment's reprieve; for a chance to remember what makes life worth living.
Thank you for reminding me that the small things -- something as seemingly insignificant as the breeze on my face and the rustle of leaves mixed with soothing, folksy, soul-felt melodies -- are what make the difference.