D021: The first hour of the day
I woke up 30 minutes before the alarm clock went off, but got up an hour after.
I woke up 30 minutes before the alarm clock went off, but got up an hour after.
There is a mirror in my bedroom. It is one of those vertical mirrors used to check how you look, from top to bottom.
I wonder what constitutes the feeling of home. Is it the physical space, the people inhabiting such space, or my own state of mind?
Maybe it is all the above.
A cosy place feels homey, but, is that enough?
People come and go.
Perhaps a peaceful mind feels at home under any circumstance, no matter how challenging it might be.
Concentration makes life better.
If you walk, eat, sleep, ride your bicycle—whatever—in absolute concentration, your experience will be more colourful, more intense.
Conversely, if you go about life distracted, or let yourself be perturbed for long, life gets significantly worse.
Distractions might be a matter of life and death. Seriously, if you are distracted while driving, that might be incredibly dangerous.
That I learnt today.
At first, you don't know how to move. Be still for a moment and listen carefully.
If you experience fear, embrace it. Feel how your body is getting cold, the chilling sensation going up through your spine.
You are completely alone in the darkest night.
You might find dragons and demons in here, don't run away. Keep your thoughts pure and bright, and they will be gone soon.
Confidence builds up as you keep moving, it slowly grows from within. Be grounded. Move slowly but confidently, one step at the time. Your erratic movements become more graceful over time.
Doubts may be strong at first. Make a pause and remain still for a moment. Be kind to yourself, never let your heart sink.
If you have to walk back your steps a few times, worry do not. Those are not failures, it is part of the learning process.
Adjust your course if need be. Follow your guts to decide whether to turn left or right. When you fall down, get up, dust the dirt off your shoulders and keep going.
You are alone in here, but don't be afraid. Only those who are brave enough to walk in the dark are able to see the light.
Continuous noise—like the background noise in big cities—is unnatural.
In our fascinating adaptability, we got used to it, but we shouldn't.
We need daily moments of absolute silence to function properly. But these days, silence scare us. We obsessively fill any moment of boredom with something. And there is always some thing (to watch, to read, to look up, to say, to think).
Remaining silent is neither slacking nor idling. A quiet and silent mind remains unshaken by phenomena—pleasant or unpleasant—and is the source of unimaginable power.
There are times in life when a wave of overwhelmness hits me. During those periods, I find it challenging to focus on everyday tasks. When it is clear I am in a downward spiral, I have to do something about it.
I'm in such a period at the moment.
As shared before, the rule #1 for self-discipline is to get enough vitamin N.
So, I've been observing my decision-making process very closely for the last weeks and, not surprisingly, I have a serious vitamin D deficiency!
Lately, the concept of fairness occupies my mind.
Although I dream of a fairer world where everyone treats each other fairly, perfect fairness is a utopia.
Nothing exists in perfect balance. “Increasing entropy is unavoidable” (Second Law of Thermodynamics), everything tends to chaos.
Since life goes in cycles, chaos doesn't last forever, either. When chaos recedes, calmness and stability follows suit.
Sometimes life's entropy peaks, and things get out of control. If you contemplate the dooming end, let it be. Let things burn and embrace the death of the past; resistance is futile.
Is a painful death fair? Life cycles are neither fair nor unfair.
If life has any meaning, it is because death exists. Life without death is meaningless, and a meaningless life is worthless.
Now I believe questions around fairness are meaningless (ergo, worthless) too.
Fair or not, when the time comes, let's burn together, beautifully.
Today, during my lunch walk at the office, I suddenly recalled something my father used to constantly remind me many years ago.
As a kid, I had this habit of walking with my hands inside my jean's pockets. Each time my father saw that, he asked me to take them out. Then he used to said: “if you suddenly fall down, you won't be able to use your hands to avoid hitting the floor”, or something along those lines.
I don't know why I walked like that. Perhaps, somehow, it has a calming effect on me. Sure, he had a point, but his constant reminders were slightly annoying at the time.
Over the years, however, I have discovered different layers of meaning in his words.