Orange Juice

As a child, I could not have orange juice. Orange juice would flare up my tonsils and I'd end up falling sick, skipping school and staying home for at least a week. Henceforth, I was never allowed orange juice. For some reason, orange juice became synonym to junk food for me. I grew up believing that orange juice was bad for health. 

I never even had the time to pause, stop and really revisit my own opinion of orange juice. It was so fixed. So given. So natural. So logical. 

Thus, I would, without thinking, reject orange juice and pick up tea or water from the tray when being hosted by guests. 

It was not until I was in my 20s and my doctor suggested that I should replace tea with orange juice which made me pause. It was absurd. After all these years, something, some feeling came crashing down in me. Orange juice? Really? Isn't it bad for health? My doctor was as confused as I was. "Err, no Ms. Haider, orange juice is in fact integral for health.". 

Really. I pondered. Oh, well, I googled, shut my embarrassing confession within and couldn't believe how stupid I could be to not even question my own notion for all these years. I could live with flu but orange juice intake in flu to ease my flu? That seemed absurd. 

As children, we all are subjected to different experiences. From extreme cases of varying degree of abuses/violence to punishment, neglect, rejection, bullying etc. We may not have been direct victims of it often, but perhaps may have been its observers. Either way, we are subjected to experiences that make us carve our escape. Just like, because of tonsils, I couldn't have orange juice then as a child. 

Unfortunately, we grow up but somewhere within us remains a child that we fail to take along. This child still believes in orange juice philosophy.

A guest comes to me today with a tray of orange juice and water. 

I deny myself orange juice because I feel uncomfortable with it. I have always had water and tea. 

A moment of experience comes to me. 

I deny myself the pleasure of acknowledging and facing it because I feel uncomfortable with it. 

We deny ourselves simplicity because we find complexity more familiar. We confuse familiar with love, with happiness. We deny ourselves simple pleasures of living. 

Ironically, when the world tells us to try and break our perceptions like a doctor telling me to try orange juice. We pause. 

We then put on our victim mask and force ourselves to try experiences because the world is forcing us or because we ought to do it. Rather than experiencing and breaking perceptions and healing for the sake of improving ourselves, we try experiences because we feel forced to, not because we ought to. 

We push moments and experiences away, not because we don't like them, but because we have been in a habit of living the familiar, living the comfortable pain. If we embrace the moments and the experiences, we wouldn't have any pain left to feed our inner self. It just wouldn't feel like the inner kid.  

We pretend to like the orange juice, to go with the flow, but somewhere we are also trying to avoid it. Somewhere, we are all still striving to seek and live the familiar.

So when the air hostess asked me what would I like to have. 

"Er..tea..no, actually orange juice please? I uttered. 

"Sure" She said broadly smiling and handing me over a chilled glass of fresh orange juice. 

The inner child shouted within, I smiled gently at her, sshhed her, ensuring that I am a big girl with no tonsils left. It felt like embracing life.  And you know what, I did not get any tonsils after having that glass of orange juice. I did not feel like a victim of myself. I felt more Human. More real. More comfortable and more confident with Life.

Heart.

There is a small vacuum, empty space in the ground right in front of me.

It is strange how it gets filled with water when it rains, only to be left empty, hollow when the sun shows up.

It gets filled with sand whenever there is sandstorm. Only to be eroded of the sand grains once the storm settles.

It gets filled up with the particles of broken autumn leaves, only to be left alone again when the winter hits.

It then gets filled up when it snows, but eventually the snow melts and it is back to being empty.

There are ants, stream of ants that tirelessly bring bits and pieces of straws to fill it up. Only to their dismay, the emptiness remains.

It feels, out of desperation of its emptiness, the vacuum just sucks into whatever comes its away.

And if nothing else comes, it remains there still, loathing its misery or failures. It remains there revisiting the autumn leaves, the snow, the water, all that once occupied it.

We are taught that this is our heart. We are taught and showed how our heart behaves in the same manner. We are taught the emptiness of the Heart that can only be filled with the Real Presence.

However, we are wrong. The Heart is not empty. The Heart does not crave filling. It is already filled. It is full and whole. It is like that smooth surface on which nothing else can settle, because there is no space for anything else.

What does look and feel like empty hole is the heart of our ego. Since childhood, we mistakenly start feeling through the heart of our ego. Since our ego is nothing but a reflection of others within us, since our ego is nothing but a mirror image of an illusion, it needs to keep telling itself that it exists. This heart of the ego hungrily then creeps for external approval, for constant presence, for company, for obsession with people, with objects. And if it doesnt get anything, it feeds unto its own miseries, past failures. Its existing pains is nothing but a reactivation of its past sufferings. It misinterprets all the tests it gets in Life. It deliberately takes those Beautiful Tests of Life and turn them into a reason of suffering and blaming its ownself or others. 

Heart of our ego is like this hole on the ground.

As we are growing up, because the Real Heart is so settled, the heart of the ego gets the limelight.

We start feeling through the heart of the ego rather than think through the brain of our Heart.

The Heart so beautiful, so connected, so peaceful and so much at ease with us. We only heal when we turn back to the Real Heart within us. So complete that it has the courage of healing the world.

Conversation

I found myself stuck in a strange conversation today with another friend of mine. She has been fighting an illness. Not so surprisingly, we ended up discussing ego, our identities, mind chatters, pain and love. I asked her what she thought of pain, of love and of God. We debated a few minutes, before she ended up concluding her philosophy as this. I paused. I struggled to open the nearest white space where I could scribble as she went on.

I then struggled to frame it. Frame it in a story. Write it as an idea. Debate it. Discuss it. My mind desperately looked for ways to express it in my words. But well, I failed. Because the simple, mundane beauty of it remains. Simple and straight forward.

As she finished, I had managed to scribble the best part of her conversation. I repeated it to her. I told her I found it so straight forward. So brutally yet simply put as a fact. She smiled back. She said, that's what she has learnt from her recent times. I was waiting for her permission to blog it. And well, here I am!

"Woh humsay buhat saaray kaam karwata hai. Kisi ko subkuch deykr. Kisi say subkuch leykr. Insaan apni zaat mein kuch nahi hota. Iska dil, iska wujood sirf ek khala hoti hai jisko insaan beytaabi keh saath dunyavi cheezon say bherta chala jata hai.

Insaan apnay dil mein lust toh paida kersakta hai. Chahay woh insaan ki lust ho, paisay ki, daulat ki. Kisi bhi cheez ki. Kyun keh insaan kaheen na kaheen ek janwar hai. Lekin is dil mein muhabbat sirf Khuda paida kerta hai. Sirf Woh hai jo is dil mein muhabat rakhta hai. Aur muhabat ek ajeeb dard keh wujood keh saath aati hai.

Khuda yeh muhabbat rakh ker, uski himmat deykr, usko namumkin banakr humko humaray na honay ka ehsaas dilata hai. Woh humko Apnay subkuch honay ka ehsaas dilata hai."

I tried and failed to translate the idea. It doesn't just has to be a human, a family, a relationship, a boyfriend, a husband. The pain of love can merely come from Yearning. Anything unexpected within. Such humanly interactions and worldly affairs are then just another reason to further the Yearning and deepen the pain of Realizing. Realizing who we are nothing, and how He is Everything.

It is wonderful how her words did not meet me. They met somebody inside me. I felt Touched. Some part of me felt like it was waking up from the sleep.

Amputation

Bahiste was just like us once upon a time. With two hands, two feet, five fingers, proper senses. You know the things we take for granted? Rather, well he had what we all assume everybody has.

But then, one day, he met an unfortunate accident, losing his right hand. Strangely enough though, even after his hand was amputated, he could feel it. He could sense something that did not exist anymore for him. He could feel the tingling sensation in a hand that was no more a part of him.

Medicine recognizes the condition. It is said, our body image exists in our mind. Our senses form and make us feel our body parts, unified together as our image. Hence, even if a part of the body is amputated, we can continue feeling that part, even if it does not exist in physical sense. Because well, it exists in the mind still.

You know the feeling that surrounds us often? The feeling that some entity, something exists around us? Within us? A sense that engulfs us? Protects us? In the deepest pain, in the happiest moment, in the frozen moment of numbness, in the seconds of rationality, in the minutes of craziness? In all those moments. In all those times. Anywhere and everywhere. There seems to be a sense of existence. Something that is with us, within us.

That something is perhaps what we are physically amputated from. We feel it. We sense it. Because it exists. The only difference is, the part of the body once amputated does not exist in reality. Part of us that feel amputated, missing is what yet still very much Exists. Some of us believe we came from there. Some of us think we will go back there. Eventually meeting some part of us that feels incomplete. The only completeness you thus feel with it is when you sense it strongly. Its no illusion. You feel it because you believe He Exists. Around you. Within you. 

I have a problem with a word.

You know I have a problem. I have a problem with a word called Dark. Darkness. It is sad how this word is abused. Exploited. It is used to describe the time of ignorance. It is used to describe lack of knowledge. And before we know it, we are injected with a fear. A dogma. Of living in darkness. It is shaped as a monster in front of us. Something we should never step into. Just by defining it that way, we are inherently mistaking ourselves and stepping right into Ignorance. 

Darkness is different. It is not Ignorance. Ignorance is when Light exists in the other room. Ignorance is sitting here, complaining about things when Light does exist. 

Darkness is absence of Light. With a potential of being there. Darkness is the tunnel that leads to Light. Ignorance is not walking the tunnel. 

Darkness is potential of Light. Ignorance is denial of Light. 

And dark times don't importantly stem from breakups or separation from materialistic possessions. 

Just like how we choose some battles as consequences of our decisions, similarly, there are some battles that choose us. Battles that take Light away. 

On the canvas of battles that choose us, each moment, we get Light and then we get a tunnel. In each moment, there is a tunnel filled with Darkness. These battles inculcate the feeling of that tunnel. They push us into this tunnel. We know it is dark. Ignorance plagues our journey in this tunnel. Whispering to stand frozen. Whispering to not to walk. Each moment, we choose how to combat the battle. The battle we perhaps did not choose. 

These battles inculcate first a feeling of emptiness, followed by a solution you know is an illusion, and what follows is a journey of realization. The process never ends. 

What is fascinating about this Darkness is - what seems magic today, becomes reality tomorrow. What seems magic tomorrow, becomes reality the day after. 

The only distance between Magic and Reality is the tunnel. The tunnel we choose to walk or stand in.

It doesn't just end. It is like tunnels and battles choose us. Consistently. Constantly. Until it makes us reach where it wants us to take. 

Each tunnel helps us appreciate Darkness. Helps us understand the difference between Darkness and Ignorance. Helps us become more conscious of ourselves. 

You and I. We have a lot inside. According to the Romeo of Psychology - Freud, it is our unconscious. These tunnels, this darkness, it brings a part of our unconscious unto the table of conscious. We consciously choose to battle with our unconscious. 

Until no nightmare remains. Or well, until no nightmare scares us or leaves us feeling Why. 

You know this word, Darkness. I have a problem with the way world describes it. It is not denial of Light, it is the ground in which the battle is played for Light. 

I wish.

I wish.

I wish there was an injection. An injection that could induce His medicine. A physical reassurance of His existence running through my veins. 

I wish that He appeared. Like that invisible little friend of mine. Right with me, sitting next to me. Moment by moment. Physically reinforcing His presence beside me. 

I wish that He would appear, hug me, take my hand and walk me that path. 

I wish that He would put my hands on my eyes and make them literally open to what He is giving me. 

I wish that He would gather all his men around to witness what He is remains the Sole Witness to. 

I wish that He would make my hands type out what remains in there. 

I wish that He would make me repeat myself till my voice goes from an uncertain whisper to Utmost Assurance of His Presence. 

You know that tiny little voice of our little stupid organ called brain. 

You know the organ that doesn't stop producing the stream of thoughts, even if we try stopping it. 

You know the voice inside us that our brain has. 

I wish that was Him. 

I wish He would just physically take my heart out and put it back again in front of me. 

I wish that He gives me the sight. The color to my colorblind world. Color of meaning to what He is saying. To what He is doing. 

I wish that He shows me the way of expressing gratitude for fulfilling all these wishes and for Being There. 

I wish He gives brain..brain to my little heart. 

Perfect to More Perfect.

Once upon a time there was a little boy who loved painting. One day on his way back from school, he decided to take a short cut through the woods and the lake. After a while, he noticed the sun setting. He turned to get the fuller view and was awe struck by the beauty, the majesty of the scene. So mermarized was the little boy that he decided to capture it in his memory. He got so lost in just staring right into the scenic sunset that he lost track of time. And so lost was he that he did not even notice the dark engulfing the woods. He was jolted and brought back by the wolf far away. He shook his head and ran back home. 

For days, he would go on describing the beauty he had experienced. He seemed obsessed with it. Completely obsessed. He was deliberately take the shorter route just to re-experience the scene. However, to his dismay, it never really happened as beautifully as that one spring evening. 

The monsoon finally set in and it became harder to catch glimpse of the clearer sky. 

Time passed and he started his next year at school. One day, the school made a plan to visit the nearby mountain top. He was excited. He took all his paints, his canvas, his colors along. 

Upon reaching the top, the students were thrilled. Lush green valleys, fresh lake and the sun. It was just such a perfect view. Excitedly, the little boy arranged himself in one corner, took out his canvas and set up his colors to capture the scene. 

Midway through, his old teacher walked by. She noticed something and stopped. 

"What are you painting little one?" She asked smiling at him. 

"Oh, just the beautiful setting sun and the mountains. Look, how beautiful the scene is!"

"Indeed it is, and so is your painting coming out to be. But I don't quite understand. Your painting isn't exactly what the backdrop is. Are you using your artistic imagination to beautify it further? She exclaimed. 

"Nope. Well, sometime back, I had one experienced a beautiful sunset. I had just absolutely fallen in love with the way it was. It was so perfect. I still remember the crisp smell of that day even! The colors. The shades. The reflection. It was so perfect. I am just trying to put it in here."

"Tell me, which one is better, that scene of that day or today?" She seemed disturbed. 

"Hmm, both. In their ways I guess. But that is not the point.." He started defending.

"Wait. Pause. No. If that was perfect, why would you want to capture this as well. That was perfect then. This is perfect now. Perfection of worldly nature is not like Absolute Perfection. Perfection in worldly nature is confined in the moments. Fate defines those moments."

We are all like this little stupid kid. We experience something perfect, something that resonates well, we want it. We capture it. We get busy in devising ways to make the experience last. To not to lose the perfection. And when we feel it slipping away, we justify our failed attempts at its extension. We list out reasons and justifications for the perfection to last. But it does not. Because perfection lasts for a moment. 

We go wrong when we get stuck in that moment and try replicating its perfections to the imperfections of our life. Maybe if I can borrow a bit of color from that past and put it in here. Maybe that'll make this picture perfect. The way I want it. We forget that moments pass, giving us another perfect moment. We forget that time walks by, giving us countless more perfect moments. 

So blinded are we, that we forget to Trust Him and His ways of further Perfecting our Lives. We trust our addiction to suffering, to pain more than we Trust Him to give us Better Experiences. We don't see the fuller colors of Today - not because the Perfection doesn't exist, but because we are too busy finding imperfections and filling it up from past colors.

We feel guilty at accepting and living the Perfection of the moment and then we wonder on how to express Gratitude to Him. The Biggest expression of Gratitude to Him is by Experiencing, admitting and living the Most Perfect Moment of Now. By trusting Him that He will only give you a much more Perfect Experience than ever before. 

He develops you and your life forward. Improves it. Progresses it. He doesn't work backwards. He takes you Forward.