Sometimes, no matter how much we would wish it to be otherwise, we find ourselves moving along paths that are different from those of the ones we love. The divergence could take any form; physical, emotional, intellectual, spiritual even geographical. There are moments when we strain against ourselves and everything else we blame for this change, just so that we remain attached to our loved ones. Conflict occurs, pain well up from deep within...anxiety, fear, anger, resentment, despair, desperation...
Over the several years that I've spent in this life, I've experienced a few situations of this kind. Some of my dearest friends and relatives grew apart from me, our values and expectations becoming dramatically different. We made attempts to change this, trying to restore things to the way they used to be, but throughout those attempts we felt a curious sense of hollowness and self-deception. Sooner or later, we had to accept that things were different and we had no choice but to move on with our lives and on our different paths.
Today, I've come to realise that this was not a bad thing...I still care very much even for the ones that I moved away from and I'm quite certain that they requite my feelings as well. However, we are no longer "attached" to one another. The attachment was the cause of the pain we experienced when we found ourselves changing, because we had grown used to the energy of our interactions. We drew on each other for strength and positive feelings and when the time came to part ways, we felt afraid about whether we were anything substantial without one-another. Well, yes, we most certainly ARE beings of substance, worth and value, even by ourselves and even if there is not a soul in the world that would endorse this opinion!
The tricky thing about relationships is that we don't know when we get lost in them. It becomes increasingly difficult to tell where the individual is separate from the collective entity of the relationship...and that is where the trouble starts! You see, we change, evolve, transform, constantly over the span of our lives and so do the people we love. Experiences, insights, memories, come together to effect alterations in our perspectives...we just forget to consider that the way our perspectives change may not match the changes in our loved ones.
So, there came a time when I found myself brooding about the people that I had grown away from, feeling a little sorry for myself etc. when suddenly it struck me that I had NOTHING to really brood about! I saw life in a new light...one in which the confluence and divergence of paths is not an unfortunate but a marvellous phenomenon. I cherished each and every moment I had spent with the people who were now far from me and I appreciated the time I was spending (and continue to spend) with people who had come into my life, however recently...and it felt wonderful!
Each person who touches your life, gives you something...a part of himself or herself that you take and add to the fabric of your being. Even when they are no longer there with you, that part of them remains, and you remain a more wholesome person as a result. When one person moves away from you, it is certain that another person comes closer...it's just that you tend to be so caught up in clinging to the former that you take much longer to receive the latter. When you do open your mind and life to other people, however, the amount of love and positivity you receive is just overwhelming. You keep the happiness given to you by those who moved away and to it you add the happiness that you get from the scores of people to whom you open your heart. It's a win-win situation really! (Just for the record, I'd like to make it clear that I'm not suggesting a chain of emotionally dependent relationships here! What I'm saying is that even as we allow the flow of people in and out of our lives, we are the ones responsible for moderating the happiness we derive from them...and the best moderators are those who are happy in themselves. We are more than a fraction of our relationships...we are whole and we are full of potential. We have lived, loved and learnt from life and that in itself is something to be happy about. It is this core happiness that allows us to remain stable while we experience the ebb and flow of interpersonal relationships).
Letting go of someone you care about is easier said than done. It requires courage and the ability to care for that person unconditionally. More than anything, it requires the willingness to let go of one's resentment and other ill-feelings about the separation. But it CAN be done and above, I've outlined the way it works best for me. Maybe it'll work for you too!
God bless!
Saturday, February 17, 2007
Thursday, February 01, 2007
Homage to the Hand that Rocks the Cradle
A few days ago, I saw one of the simplest, yet most charming sights that I have ever seen till date. I was enjoying a brisk evening walk, in the beautiful garden that adjoins my apartment block, breathing in a delightful breeze that had the barest hint of a nip in it (just the way I like it!). I'd taken several rounds, quite oblivious of my surroundings on account of some particularly good music that I was listening to, when I saw this spectacle that just stayed with me.
Seated on one of the park's wooden benches was a lady, holding a cherubic baby girl on her lap. She was probably in her thirties and wore a loose-fitting outfit. A simple hairband kept her glossy hair from falling on her face. It was the face that caught my attention...a face that wore an expression of the most perfect contentment and happiness. More than her fair skin and radiant complexion, it was her smile that made my slow my pace, just so I could observe her and her infant for a while longer.
Her smile was the kind that lights up your soul, regardless of whether or not it is meant for you. A pure, unaffected expression that shone through her entire face, beaming down at the baby who reciprocated in kind. She was singing a little song that would sound perfectly nonsensical to "mature" ears, but in that moment, there was nothing that made more sense. Gently, she bounced her daughter on her knee, singing her funny little song, the two of them completely lost to the world. In perfect tandem, the baby's delighted gurgles rippled between the lyrics, especially when her mother gave her the gentlest of tickles.
In those few moments, there was nothing that had more meaning for me, than the sight of this little interaction that I witnessed. It sent my mind racing into the past, awakening some of my oldest memories, in which I shared similar moments with my mother. I saw myself in a bright room (in my old home in Calcutta), making my first attempts at writing. My mother stood behind me, leaning over my chair, her gentle fingers closing over my hand, showing my how to hold the pencil steady. I remember the sweet smell of her perfume and the feel of her soft curly hair against my cheek. Together, we wrote my first letters as she sang a little song that she made up to guide my learning: "Up above the red line, down to the blue line..." In this way we formed each and every member of the alphabet on those old four-lined exercise books in which children learn to write.
Today, I type more than I write, but had it not been for those moments spent with her, the alphabet would have been no more than a bunch of odd shapes and most of the world would not have made any sense!
A mother's hand is one of the first things that the infant feels and it's touch becomes an unmistakable sensation. Powerful, gentle, protective, steadying and more...she communicates all these qualities with no more than her touch. It is this touch that guides us throughout our time together, an unshakable reassurance of unconditional love that comforts us even when it is a memory.
Over the span of all the years I have spent in this life, I've observed an evolution in the relationship that I share with my mother. I began life as her eager student, soaking in all she had to teach like a dry sponge that has just been shown under a gushing tap! As the years progressed and I acknowledged the presence of different people in my life, I learnt new things, expanded my horizons in even more directions. This does not mean I abandoned my mother's paths (till today she remains my expert-of-choice on a vast range of topics)...what I'm saying is that I realised that there were many things that I could learn and share with her...things that even she did not know. I realised that we are both students in this enormous school called Life...that we are both looking for something...and that she is my senior, but she is willing to learn each time I find something that she is unaware of (and vice-versa).
We are now partners in the journey of our existence...Children of the same Universe...rivers meandering towards the same ocean. Sometimes we are hand-in-hand and at sometimes we do things a little differently, but an undying love binds as at all times. It began even before I came into existence in her womb and will remain even when we are no longer there in this world...for that is the glory of a mother and her child.
Here's to all our mothers! :)
God bless!
Seated on one of the park's wooden benches was a lady, holding a cherubic baby girl on her lap. She was probably in her thirties and wore a loose-fitting outfit. A simple hairband kept her glossy hair from falling on her face. It was the face that caught my attention...a face that wore an expression of the most perfect contentment and happiness. More than her fair skin and radiant complexion, it was her smile that made my slow my pace, just so I could observe her and her infant for a while longer.
Her smile was the kind that lights up your soul, regardless of whether or not it is meant for you. A pure, unaffected expression that shone through her entire face, beaming down at the baby who reciprocated in kind. She was singing a little song that would sound perfectly nonsensical to "mature" ears, but in that moment, there was nothing that made more sense. Gently, she bounced her daughter on her knee, singing her funny little song, the two of them completely lost to the world. In perfect tandem, the baby's delighted gurgles rippled between the lyrics, especially when her mother gave her the gentlest of tickles.
In those few moments, there was nothing that had more meaning for me, than the sight of this little interaction that I witnessed. It sent my mind racing into the past, awakening some of my oldest memories, in which I shared similar moments with my mother. I saw myself in a bright room (in my old home in Calcutta), making my first attempts at writing. My mother stood behind me, leaning over my chair, her gentle fingers closing over my hand, showing my how to hold the pencil steady. I remember the sweet smell of her perfume and the feel of her soft curly hair against my cheek. Together, we wrote my first letters as she sang a little song that she made up to guide my learning: "Up above the red line, down to the blue line..." In this way we formed each and every member of the alphabet on those old four-lined exercise books in which children learn to write.
Today, I type more than I write, but had it not been for those moments spent with her, the alphabet would have been no more than a bunch of odd shapes and most of the world would not have made any sense!
A mother's hand is one of the first things that the infant feels and it's touch becomes an unmistakable sensation. Powerful, gentle, protective, steadying and more...she communicates all these qualities with no more than her touch. It is this touch that guides us throughout our time together, an unshakable reassurance of unconditional love that comforts us even when it is a memory.
Over the span of all the years I have spent in this life, I've observed an evolution in the relationship that I share with my mother. I began life as her eager student, soaking in all she had to teach like a dry sponge that has just been shown under a gushing tap! As the years progressed and I acknowledged the presence of different people in my life, I learnt new things, expanded my horizons in even more directions. This does not mean I abandoned my mother's paths (till today she remains my expert-of-choice on a vast range of topics)...what I'm saying is that I realised that there were many things that I could learn and share with her...things that even she did not know. I realised that we are both students in this enormous school called Life...that we are both looking for something...and that she is my senior, but she is willing to learn each time I find something that she is unaware of (and vice-versa).
We are now partners in the journey of our existence...Children of the same Universe...rivers meandering towards the same ocean. Sometimes we are hand-in-hand and at sometimes we do things a little differently, but an undying love binds as at all times. It began even before I came into existence in her womb and will remain even when we are no longer there in this world...for that is the glory of a mother and her child.
Here's to all our mothers! :)
God bless!
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