Tag: love

  • Contortions of reality

    Contortions of reality

    It is my belief in the good that is possible that has been the cause of my greatest regrets when I realised that I was alone in seeing the world that way.

    It’s that same belief that has driven me towards offering myself into spaces for which I was inadequate, or social circles for which I was lacking.

    My inability to recognise the signs of insincerity because I was convinced that it was simply fear, has resulted in some of the greatest lessons I’ve learnt about my place in this world.

    It’s the same belief in the wonderment of life that has shredded the romantic fool in me when the reality beyond my perception revealed the truth of my misplaced fascination.

    There are days when life feels more enchanting than a fable of love that has endured generations of cynicism. And then there are days when it feels like nothing more than a fib.

    My inclination towards flowery language has heaped much ridicule on me through the years, given the uneducated fool that I am. But when you struggle to articulate your experience of this contorted life, knowingly persisting in doing that which earns ridicule after being celebrated, you take an inevitable step towards finally seeing this world for what it is.

    Assuming that such clarity of vision is even possible is further testament to the naivety that always gets the better of my reason, and overwhelms my heart with possibility, even when staring impossibility in the face.

    It’s a recipe for much heartache and even more pain. But the sliver of hope that holds the promise of the remote probability that I may just be right about my perception of what is possible leaves me incapable of living any other way.

    Such is the nature of the fool in me. The one who loves deeply, expects little, and fails a lot. But it was my naivety towards such failure that has been the most incredible teacher of my life.

  • Tainting a beautiful soul

    Tainting a beautiful soul

    Betrayal of trust always cuts deeper than any other wound that we endure in life.

    A trust of the heart is an offering of the most sacred parts of who we are to those whom we believe will add to its beauty, and its peace.

    When it is held sacred by the ones with whom we share it, it explodes into fountains of light, beautifying everything that it touches…including the hurts of the past.

    When it is treated flippantly, it turns into caves of darkness, offering us protection from the shame of having had our sanctity violated by one so dear.

    From deep within that cave, any light that enters threatens to disembowel what little dignity we have left.

    Sometimes we flirt with that light, believing that it’s still possible to have the remnants of light in our soul join in the splendour of the beauty that we know is possible.

    For a while, we grow bold, believing that the sanctity of us may yet be cherished by another. Until we’re reminded that it is that same trust that created the space for the darkness of another to snuff out our light.

    So we withdraw. Any promises made to that point fade from view, and our trust becomes seasonal. Turning us into the darkness that seeks to destroy someone else’s light before they get a chance to destroy our own. Again.

    It’s an unintended vengeance against other than the brute that ravaged our soul. But it carries with it the promise of safety, and the promise of once more being whole.

    Thus, an unfulfilled vengeance, shreds a beautiful soul.

    Photo credit : Adobe Stock

  • The broken cup

    The broken cup

    Too often, our focus is on how empty is our own cup.

    Sometimes it takes a while before we realise that we’re not taking care of ourselves as we lose ourselves in our concern for others.

    So we begin to focus on filling our cup so that the emotional fatigue can finally be overcome.

    Sadly, we don’t stop to consider if we’re capable of filling our cup because we don’t realise that it may be broken.

    Wounds from the past leave cracks and breaks in spaces that we hope others will mend, not realising that only we hold the key towards mending those cracks.

    Sometimes, we don’t realise that someone we love may have a broken cup, and we exhaust ourselves in trying to fill their cup, believing ourselves to be inadequate in our efforts to make them feel loved enough to want to love us in return.

    That’s why it’s important to heal before you try to find a home for your heart.

    And equally important is the realisation that sometimes it’s not your inadequacy that makes it difficult for them to love you back, but rather their belief in not being worthy of your love that prevents them from embracing you.

    Breathe, beloved…slow, rhythmic, deep breaths that fill those spaces left by the calloused hands that handled the most fragile parts of you.

    Breathe. Be whole. And then return to love.

    Photo credit : Adobe Stock

  • The struggle of faith

    The struggle of faith

    It is our belief in the value of something that drives us towards fighting to protect it.

    We cherish that which we appreciate, and we appreciate that which we value.

    Call it conviction in the value of the outcome, or belief in the beauty of its truth. Whatever it is, it is that unwavering faith in what we cherish as a truth that spawns the trials that we face when protecting or defending that truth.

    As is often said, when you stand for nothing, you’ll fall for anything. What isn’t said often enough is that when you stand for something, you’ll be plagued by everything that is threatened by what you stand for.

    Such is the burden of faith.

    Whether it is faith in the divine, or faith in the beauty of creation, faith compels us to protect and nurture that which we hold dear.

    For those who lack such faith, destroying or abusing what we cherish goes unnoticed, leaving us to contend with the destruction they leave in the path of their obliviousness.

    We contend with their destruction because of our faith in the value of what they threaten to destroy.

    Thus, holding on to that faith becomes the trial itself, when letting go holds the promise of ease from those struggles.

    But ease itself holds no value if it leaves a gaping hole where we once had fulfilment or joy.

    That’s why we hold on to faith. Not because we are afraid of letting go, but because we are afraid of feeling empty, or unfulfilled, after having felt, even for a brief moment, complete.



  • Have a little faith

    Have a little faith

    Believing is not the same as faith. At least not in the way that I experience it.

    When I believe in something, it’s because I’ve attached evidence from previous experiences that convince me that what I believe to be true is probably true.

    While there is an element of faith to that, its not really faith. It’s more a belief based on deduction.

    Faith comes in when the evidence may conflict with the belief, but because everything we know to be true about it makes it impossible to believe anything else, it’s then that we develop the faith in believing that somehow, some way, the outcome is still possible.

    This is especially true when everything tells you that it’s impossible.

    Of course faith of a divine nature is different. But the above approach to faith is what determines how much we invest in others, or in what we believe is possible with them.

    Photo trivia : This is a table cloth that was woven by female prisoners in India. An endearing design with dark undertones.

  • A sacred trust

    A sacred trust

    Mark Twain once said something about there being two days that are important in your life. The day you’re born, and the day you find out why. I think there’s a third day that matters as much as the other two. The day you realise that your why only matters to you, and no one else.

    There’s a sacred trust that is unspoken but governs the hearts of everyone. That trust is created in moments when we honour our why in servitude of others. Everyone has this inclination. To serve as best as they can, to honour that trust that no one speaks of.

    A rare few, or perhaps more than that, invest that servitude in those who are true to their why. In return, the trust is fulfilled, but still unspoken. The only evidence of its fulfilment is the fulfilment they feel when their sincere servitude is honoured in kind.

    But what of those who invested it in ones who dishonour their why? Worse still, what if your why is to give hope to those who have given up hope in themselves?

    The ones in need of hope grab at the hints of its arrival without any concern for its origin. It is not the being attached to the outstretched hand that matters. Only what that hand contains.

    In that moment of giving, when something is gained by the hopeless, something is lost by the hopeful. Until eventually, the scale tips beyond its balance, and the hopeful become the hopeless. That’s when that sacred trust is broken, often beyond repair.

    Without trust, all that’s left is faith. Faith denies us the right to give up. Caught between the absence of trust, fading hope, and a fragile faith, the struggle of being human is born. And in that desecrated space, angels and demons are formed.

    If there is enough hope left in the cup, it fuels the endeavour to remain true to our why. But if the cup of hope is empty, faith settles in quietly, hope exits gracefully, and trust is abandoned, finally. Leaving the one caught in that conflict feeling conflicted, painfully aware of the emptiness that the tainted sanctity of that trust left, while knowing that faith always demands more.

    Perhaps faith is not our saving grace from the trials of life. Perhaps faith itself is the trial.

  • Lost moments

    Lost moments

    The pendulum of time brushes ever so lightly against the arc of eternity, and in that very finite moment of its contact, an entire lifetime is lived. Some are deluded into believing that the pendulum will swing back, realising too late that once the moment is passed, it is lost to eternity.

    For some reason, this thought always chokes me up… :'(

    Why do people take life for granted and wait for ideal moments before allowing themselves to embrace life more fully and sincerely?

    Moments pass so quickly.

    The current trends are to catch moments through meditation, long after the moment is lost.

    Or to reminisce about why it could have been different if only something else was in place at the time.

    The most gut wrenching heartache is caused from moments that held the promise of beauty or peace, but were lost to bad timing, or fear.

    I think the secret to living joyfully lies in trusting those who echo the sentiments in your heart.

    But such a trust is daunting when it was abused by another, and thus courage becomes a prerequisite for trust.

    Discovering the secret of courage then becomes the next pursuit of the heart.

    Breathe, beloved…slow deep breaths. And courage will emerge from the depths where it lays dormant after having been subdued by calloused hands.

    Photo credit : Adobe Stock

  • Prisms of beauty

    Prisms of beauty

    If you keep chasing rainbows, you won’t find the time to notice that you’re the prism creating the beauty that you so desperately court.

    Breathe beloved, and pause for long enough to appreciate the beauty of you, despite the ugly of them.

    (From the sequel to An Incomplete Love Story that may never be written)

    Photo credit : Adobe Stock