Tag: perspective (Page 8 of 17)

A Song for Silence

December 22, 2018 / Sreenath Sreenivasan / 0 Comments

I see a solitary ant, carrying a sugar cube huge,
Marching on to its colony, its homely refuge,
Oh this tiny being, what a wonder !
Never does it let out even a whimper.

I see a little sapling with leaves but two,
Fighting its way up, to a world bright and new,
Oh this son of a seed, brave with no fear,
Never do a rustle from the hustle do I hear.

The wind and the waves, riding on time,
Travellers forever with no reason or rhyme,
Oh these vagabonds, to every man’s intrigue,
Never do they speak of a weariness or fatigue.

Spinning and revolving around the sun,
Maybe ever since time had begun,
Mother of seasons, with a tilt, so busy,
The earth doesn’t ever speak of being sunburnt or dizzy.

Never is the sun too hot, or the moon too blue,
Hidden somewhere, there’s a subtle clue.

Look at life and work from another lens,
Let the music to your work be but silence.

Why shout, in stillness should you rejoice,
For in that silence will your work, find its own true voice.

Don’t let work be loud, let it be loved instead,
Toil in silence and have the heart to leave things unsaid.

To foster grace, let that be your purpose sole,
And work shall find harmony with the song of every soul.

On the Magic of Showing Up

December 21, 2018 / Sreenath Sreenivasan / 0 Comments

Today marks the end of the third week of December. It has been 21 days since I started the December edition of ‘The Power Of Everyday’ project.

For this month I had chosen the task of writing and publishing a blog post every single day. And I am happy to share that so far, I haven’t missed a single day.

It was daunting to imagine at first that I would be able to write and share something meaningful every day. But three weeks into the challenge, I feel confident about my ability to keep up.

Today I would like to share my experience so far, and what I learned from other like minded people in this journey.

A few years back, I had read about an intriguing morning routine of a world class gymnast. She did away from having an elaborate plan about each day’s routine.

She had only one rule to follow.

Every morning, at 4:30 am she had to be waiting for the public bus that took her to the training facility.
She did not have the aim of practising everyday.
The rule was to show up at that bus stop.
And every single day, by the time she reached the bus stop, she had already won over any inertia that held her back.
Training was then only a natural consequence.

I was inspired by this novel approach and got thinking about how I could design a similar framework for my own writing endeavor.

The simple rule I came up with was :

‘Show up at your writing desk at 8 am, every single day.’

I would already have a minimal and organised desk that I’d prepare the night before. A blank leaf of my journal would be open, waiting for me.

All I had to do was to show up at 8 am and sit in the chair.

And then, the magic happens!

Over the course of the past three weeks, I’ve come to realise that making art is more about the discipline than inspiration.

Here’s a brilliantly illustrated comic about why inspiration comes to those who master their disinclination.

If you wish to improve on your art, form habits that align you in the direction of your dreams, and live a creative life,
You just need to follow a simple rule.

Show Up.
Every single day.

It might sound sterile and counterintuitive to the idea of spontaneous creativity. But inspiration will only come to you, if it finds you working.

Do not aim to say, paint everyday if you are a painter.
Sit with your sketchbook in the park, every single day.
That will make sure you will make art everyday.

Create a framework.
And stick to it.

Once you show up, you’d realise that
The idea is already waiting for you.

It really works. Try it !

I wish you good luck 🙂

A much needed touch

December 20, 2018 / Sreenath Sreenivasan / 0 Comments

Do you remember the day you touched a puppy for the first time?
The cutest one in a litter of three?
It would have been a long time ago, maybe a year before you lost your first milk tooth.

Remember how gingerly you would place it on your lap and watch it sleep? Its feeble heartbeat that you could sense on your palms, the caressing warmth of its supple skin?
Remember how when you touched it, it let a whisper of a shriek , touched you back and nibbled on your finger ?
And that feeling when you realized that something that you touch , touches you back with equal affection?

Chances are that you gave the puppy a name.
Tuffy, is it?

The touch was momentary, but the memory lives on.

Over time, there came new experiences of the touch.
Maybe you remember when you touched someone you loved for the first time.
The contour of their palm is etched in your memory forever.
When you touched them, they touched you back in equal measure. That was when the circuit got complete.

You felt a connection.

Chances are that they are not around anymore.

The touch was momentary, but the memory lives on.

Do you remember the first time you touched the earth?
Chances are that you don’t.

Do you remember the last time you touched the earth?
Chances are that you don’t.

I am not talking about the casual touch, the brushing of sand against your skin on a beach that you wish to sanitize as soon as possible.

I am talking about digging your hands into the earth, feeling the warmth of freshly dug up soil, picking up that deep, rich earth with absolute reverence.

When you touch the earth like that, just as the other instances,
The earth touches you back,
Welled up in the emotion of homecoming of an alienated son.

The first puppy, the first lover have gone far away from you.
But the earth has been waiting forever, in no hurry, holding a reserve of faith, that in time, your fingers will caress her.

Today, I ask you,
Would you touch her?

Maybe the circuit will complete.
And you will feel, a lasting, undeniable,
Connection.

Today is the day.

Roll up your sleeves, get on your knees.
She’s been waiting for far too long.

Life of a butterfly

December 19, 2018 / Sreenath Sreenivasan / 0 Comments

A butterfly’s wings
Feebly though
Applaud each moment
Of its brief, colorful life.

On just doing things without thinking

December 18, 2018 / Sreenath Sreenivasan / 0 Comments

There’s a certain sense flow in the spirit of a child, a magical blend of curiosity and fearless adventure in every moment of its being. The openness to explore, decipher and create emanates from its core, as a natural expression of life itself.

Kids never think twice before they attempt something. They could open up their whole racing car toy to make sense of how it works, talk to strangers as if they’re long lost friends, dance even if there’s no music around, and even reprimand their Grandpa if he doesn’t practice what he preaches !

The energy flows as it comes, unhindered.

In a way, they are ‘just doing things without too much thinking.’

And how much life do they squeeze out of each living moment with that flamboyance !

While we adults, in comparison, have quite a constipated existence.

Why?

Because, believe it or not, we too,
are ‘just doing things without too much thinking.’
The same expression I had used earlier for a kid’s state of being applies to us, however in a way that doesn’t serve our growth

We are too busy doing things without giving conscious thought about it. Despite access to all the knowledge in the world we are just getting on with our lives.

What are we making off of our privilege?

We choose to not take care of our health,
eat and sleep at ungodly hours, poison our bodies with socially accepted addictions, all the while knowing that it does us only harm.
We box up our lives, feeling sorry for ourselves despite our privilege while we could be finding ways to help people in a greater need than us.
And life goes on like that, as we keep scrolling through a stream of information just to fill up the void in our life.

We get on with our lives,

‘Just doing these things without too much thinking.’

Life goes on.

A child also keeps doing things without too much thinking, but how profoundly different is its life from ours!

We need a phase shift.
Now.

For that shift to happen we must follow a two step process :

1) Rediscover the childlike abandon in us and do things without being bogged down by self doubt and fear of judgement.

2) Be mindful and deliberate about our lives, and not let it just happen.

With step one, we will regain the creative vigor of a child, beyond any imagined fear.

With step two, we will make the best use of our knowledge and channel our creative energy wisely, in the direction that serves everyone best.

After all, there are so many things in worlds within and without, that deserve attention and action from our end !

It is the same expression :

‘Just doing things without much thinking‘

It could mean a mindless existence in one sense.
But it could also mean a flamboyant existence rolling like a juggernaut in the direction of divinity.

It is a matter of choice, isn’t it?

Let’s change gears, course correct our journey, and give a better meaning to our existence.

Let’s do this !

How to Upgrade your existence

December 17, 2018 / Sreenath Sreenivasan / 0 Comments

Normal is such a normal word isn’t it?
It refers of all things ordinary, the banal, the commonplace, not showing any deviance from the usual.
It is a word that references itself in its character. Normal.

There is an ubiquity to this word, despite how flavorless it is.
We use this word quite often to refer to the state in our own life. In fact, despite how lacklustre it sounds, we all wish for a ‘normal’ life, don’t we?

There is only one issue with wishing for such a normalcy in life.
It is that, often we seek what’s considered normal on a societal level. We take normal to be something that has met with the tacit agreement of others around us. We do not take a moment to consider and set a benchmark for our own self, of what we want our normal to be!

Let me cite a personal example.

The other day, my father came into my room when I was writing. He was a bit surprised to see me write with my left hand. He’d always remembered me to be right-handed. Since he hadn’t seen me for a long time, he wondered if he had forgotten which was my dominant hand.

Eventually I told him that I had been writing with my left hand everyday for the past 18 months. And now, it felt totally normal to me. I sometimes come to my writing desk and pick up the pen quite instinctively with my left hand.

That’s a normal I worked towards, something I eventually I got used to.

Would it not be best, if we strived to upgrade our ‘normal’ to a more challenging state of being?
Normal doesn’t have be a constant, it needs to have a positive evolutionary slope.

Personally, I am still trying to level up on my normalcy. I am constantly trying to be open in the heart, just as a child, something that doesn’t come naturally to adults. But I am working my way towards making it a normal part of my being.
Likewise there are many other areas where I wish to bring an elevation in my normal state of being. It is an ongoing process that challenges you to grow mindfully.

There is nothing wrong with wishing to lead a normal life, as long as you define what you accept as normal, as long as you choose to push your boundaries and upgrade your normalcy.

The same word, normal, gets invigorated once we choose give it our own definition.

Define your own ‘normal’ and constantly strive for an upgrade in your state of being.
To do that for your evolution, should after all become,
Normal.

An Invitation to Childhood

December 16, 2018 / Sreenath Sreenivasan / 0 Comments

It was the early hours of the evening. I was seated on a comfortable chair, writing. Somehow this setting reminded me of my school days. Since I don’t write so much with pens and pencils these days, writing on paper took me back in time in a way.

The parting sun lit up my room in a particularly reminiscent hue. One that reminded me that I used be itching to go outside the house to play with my friends as a child at this time in the evening.

Then, all of sudden, I heard an evocative shout.

‘Did someone call out my name from the street outside my house?’ I wondered.

I looked out from the window with hope.

It was the ghost of my past.
He looked into my eyes lovingly and spoke,

‘Remember how you used to sit next to this window sill, waiting to hear your friends call out your name to play cricket in the evening?
Remember those inviting shouts that was once music to your ears?

And do you remember how over years, calls got more sophisticated? How the shouting was replaced by a short high pitched whistle, a clap in a familiar cadence, just to keep all questionable sneaking out discreet?

The sound of the screeching footsteps of a friend, suggesting his arrival from afar, and towards the end of teenage, the gasps of an old handed down Kinetic Honda, which you crashed into a lamppost on your friend’s birthday?
You must at least remember how you’d listen for your childhood crush’s voice that would filter through the songs of sparrows in the park?

Do you remember these sounds, my old friend?’ asked the harmless ghost.
His gentle whisper echoed in my heart all night long.

In that moment, I realised how deprived of these sounds my life had become.
These days, a friend would usually text me from outside my house or place a phone call. The hollering has disappeared.

Earphones keep me distanced from all those sounds my ears were so trained to decipher. My ears long for the high pitched blip of an Instant messenger notification, not for the dying horn of an old Kinetic Honda.

And in all these years, the battle of bandwidths has attenuated the life out of a little sparrow, the background music of my childhood.
As with the sparrow, the sounds of my childhood are also facing extinction.

Maybe, the next time I visit a friend, I am going to shout out for him, just how I used to back in the day.
Maybe, he will come out with a smile laced with surprise, and I’ll smile back, with an invitation back to where we belong.

I long for the release in that holler.
And maybe, in that act, a sparrow would find hope to resurrect, and bring back life and song to my silent little world.

When an old man runs

December 15, 2018 / Sreenath Sreenivasan / 0 Comments

An old man used to frequent a park. He wouldn’t do much there. He would just sit on a wooden bench and enjoy the breeze of the season.
Every evening, he would see a group of three young men meet at the park after work. They would just sit on the bench opposite him and chatter away mindlessly.

The old man could barely see much. But even in a few months of observation, he could sense the gradual deterioration in the health of the young men.

He wished to change things.
But how? He wondered.

The next day, the old man quit his slippers and came to the park in his shoes. Just as the three men came in the park that evening, they were surprised to see the old man walk around the park with his cane.
In a few weeks, the old man felt healthy enough to set aside his cane and walk briskly without it.
Each time he would pass their field of vision, the men would feel a strange feeling inside them. Their talking would stop and all their attention would momentarily be on the old man.

The following month, the three men got a big shock. The old man was jogging slowly around the park with a beaming smile. There wasn’t much talk that day, just a lot of silence.

Next day, the old man got a surprise he was wishing for all along. The three young men were waiting for him in their running shoes. Soon, the three of them were following the old man around like chicks around mama hen.
Even with his slow breezy pace, the old man had moved three mountains semingly set in stone, in gentle onward motion.

For a few weeks they would run like this everyday.
Until one day, the old man didn’t show up.

They assumed that he was unwell and continued on with the running.

Little did they know, that from the vantage of heaven, he was rejoicing the sight of a stuttered jog turning into elegant strides.

Isn’t that the best way to make a change whose time has come?
To lead by example, beyond all rationalisation.

If we seek positive change, then shouldn’t we, at every moment, strive to be either the old man or the three young men?

If we can, we must lead the change.
If not, we should follow the ones who show us the path.

Our little world needs a lot of change.
Passivity breeds deterioration.
Only in running actively, in the direction of solutions would we find the blueprint of a better world.

Run. Follow. Learn.

Just being

December 14, 2018 / Sreenath Sreenivasan / 0 Comments

The December wind, once a mighty gale,
Is feeble, warm, lifeless and pale
Carefree still, it flows ruminating,
It is happy after all,
Just being.

The icy mountain, what a blow it felt,
Painfully slow did the snow cap melt,
In between states of matter, still contemplating,
Is is happy still,
Just being.

The earth, a theatre in dilapidation,
Torn apart by borders, ideas of a nation,
Still it moves, silently reflecting,
It is happy after all,
Just being.

The sky a kaleidoscope of universes afar,
Today is a haze, without a single star,
A silent screen, it gets itself thinking,
It is happy still,
Just being.

The last song bird, it calls for a mate,
It will never hear back, a sorry fate
Still it finds solace in the singing,
It is happy after all,
Just being.

The wind, the ice, the earth, the sky,
Just as a sparrow and a butterfly,
Without a worry, they exist,
They’re so good
At just being.

While I, a human,
riding on destruction,
Am only good,
At just being sorry.

On finding equanimity in life

December 13, 2018 / Sreenath Sreenivasan / 0 Comments

The test of a first rate intelligence is the ability to hold two opposed ideas in mind and still have the ability to function.
– F. Scott Fitzgerald

We have all experienced that emotion at least once in life when we think that in the grand scheme of things, we don’t really matter.
In the infinity of the cosmos, the constant sourceless flow time, does a speck of a little being that appears and disappears in a flash hold any significance?
Yes, in the bigger picture, even in the observable universe, we don’t even feature as a faint blip on the cosmic radar.
One could thus infer that life is quite pointless, devoid of any meaning.

But wait a moment and think.

Don’t we also have the opportunity to find meaning for our life for our own self?

We have a finite amount of time to experience our perceptual reality and engage ourselves in something that we find meaningful.

It might not matter in the bigger picture, but in the present moment, what we do with our life and what adds meaning to it matters, doesn’t it?

So how does one find a middle ground while being confronted with apparent pointlessness on one hand and finding meaning on the other?

Here’s where the quote by F. Scott Fitzgerald comes in.

To make peace with pointlessness and meaning, we have to able to hold both ideas in our head at the same time.
And, it can do wonders to your existence.

On one hand, realising our pointlessness in the grand scheme of things will make sure we don’t become egocentric in our perspective.
On the other hand, choosing to find meaning for our own life and living by it will make us more responsible carriers of consciousness.

Once we learn to make peace with both these opposing ideas, of pointlessness and meaning, a certain stoic calm would dawn upon us.
In a way, we will learn when to take life seriously and when to just sit back, accept and laugh at how insignificant we are.

An image conjures up in my mind when I think about making peace with this duality.

Imagine a father and his 5 year old son peering through a telescope at a clear night sky.
The father looks at a minisclue fraction of the cosmos through the lenses and realises how little his existence is.
And then, he looks at his son gazing through the telescope in awe and finds all the meaning in the world to live fully and responsibly. To make the most out of his existence.
In that moment of realization, he’s made peace with his reality.

Perhaps the best way to stay clear of nihilism and egomania, is to understand the duality of pointlessness and meaning,
and live with a solemn awareness of both ideas each living moment.

How does one make peace with these polar opposite perspectives?

Perhaps, a telescope would help.
Or maybe,
watching your baby fall asleep.