The Refuge of Silence

As the days pass by, little seems to have changed since I was discharged from hospital. Thankfully, my pain has gradually decreased and while I still need more days of bed rest, if things go well, I should be on ny way to a good recovery. However, these days I was forced to reflect on the experiences that I've gone through and what I'm feeling right now.

First, I wonder where this sense of emptiness that visits me at times is coming from.

Second, there's a sense of longing. Longing for better health. Longing to restore what I had before. Thoughts, that if not recognised, risk sucking you into the traps of self-pity and stasis - where there is no growth or possibility.

By now, I accept the fact that my body needs to take its time to recover. Of course, I must do my part to help in the process. I have had the time to finish reading a few books which were on ny reading list as well. So, it's not that bad if I can make the best of it and learn new ideas in the process.

Having said that, in this particular situation which I'm in where my life is on pause node, there are moments when I meditate about all this in silence. For I might escape in a world that bombards us with information and constant stimulation, but how can I expect to be happy if I don't bitter to get to know who I an. How can I hope to know what truly fulfils me and satisfies me in life?

Thus, I return to silence. Not the silence of indifference or aversion vbut the silence that choosers to receive and consolidates without impositions or conditions. A silence that accepts and adapts to what truly is without the urge to dominate.

The silence between these words we write, speech we utter - the blank spaces and breaks. The silence that give music rhythm and melody that would be just annoying noise devoid of life.

This silence is important to me.

Until next time.

Pain - Teach Me Life

I'm in pain once again. It's my back and legs now as well. It's hard and I struggle to type this entry in my present condition. So, I'll limit myself to a few reflections.

Of course, it's difficult for me to cope at times. I get to ask the question - why me? After all, I have been through so much over these years that I don't need this. Yet, when I realise how others may be going through much more serious suffering, I am compelled to ask why not me. What makes me so 'special' as to be spared to share in this human experience? Wouldn't be arrogant of me to expect to be spared just because I have through enough pain?

Doesn't this experience offer me the opportunity to Learn about who I am and my relation to others and the world?

Should I consume myself in anger and personal concerns while failing to grow in compassion? Aren't we, humans, all in the same situation? No one can escape this.

I also lay my hope that like everything else, this will end. Even if, at present, it seems hard to believe. I could deny myself the possibility of hope and indulge in self-pity and close my heart to the world. But that wouldn't help me or anyone for that matter.

This is my current reality. Uncomfortable - sure. Unnecessary - perhaps. But, useless it is not.

I witness the present moment. There's pain that comes and goes. But every one of these moments is unique and I must trust and live in the realities that surround me.

There'll be times of hope and others of despair. Successes and failures in how I dealpain. Yet, I refuse to define myself with this temporal pain. My humanity goes beyond that.

I may choose to drown in despair or affirm life by accepting this experience, learn from it and letting go.

Nobody can decide this but me.

I will try to choose to follow the path of hope.

This is a choice that no one can make on my behalf.

But it's a choice that I must make.

A Nomadic Life

In a few hours’ time, I’ll be returning back home from my summer house. By this time, I should get used to move back and forth between the two houses during the summer break. My family has been doing it almost every year since I was a child.

But this entry isn’t really about moving back to another house. It’s about home and its place in our life. For, throughout our lives, it appears to me that we’re searching for home where we find security. Where we are safe, uncomfortable and free from the problems of the world. Yet, I believe that although we think of “home” as a location in time and place, this isn’t the case.

Our lives is in a constant state of change. We may only guess that tomorrow things will be almost the same as usual but, in truth, tomorrow remains unknown. We may feel happy with our life right now and we do well to enjoy what we have. On the other hand, we must be careful not to base our happiness on what we have. No, not even get attached to our physical homes as there will be one day when we have to change everything.

And, when we lose what we had, we might discover an emptiness borne out of a false happiness. Indeed, even if we live in homes (if we’re lucky), a home remains a building of wood or stone. We’re the ones who imbue it with properties beyond itself.

I sometimes think of my life as a nomadic existence. I don’t know if you can understand. I have undergone radical changes in my life when I thought I had finally find fulfilment and happiness. I believed that change would lead me to a better life if I attained a goal or got a new gadget to play with. I found out that I had been misguided.

Like a nomad, I must learn that I will, one day, have to move on. Like a nomad, I need to find the strength and support to adapt to new realities. Like a nomad, I need to accept the fact that what I have can be snatched away from me without warning.

I confess that I share these thoughts because I know that soon I’ll be moving on once again from my winter home to another place. While I’m excited by the prospect of gaining more independence, there’s still a sadness and fear of moving on to an unknown place and to an unknown future.

Perhaps I need to recognise that I can only find true refuge in my heart and mind. That’s my home which I must dwell in until the moment of my death.

The Wisdom of Pearls

Pearls remain one of the most valued objects today with the smallest costing from a few hundred dollars to ones costing up to thousands. There may be many reasons people are priced so high. After all, they are produced by a natural process, by a mollusc, a living being, and, yes, they evoke a certain beauty and perfection.

It was at a seafood restaurant that I wondered about pearls. In theory, molluscs such as mussels may produce one. But pearls are often associated with oysters. But, if oysters and other such organisms, are capable of producing a pearl, why don’t we find one every time we get on? On doing some research, I discovered that the pearl, in fact, is the product of an oyster’s attempt to gain relief from discomfort.

Indeed, since molluscs are confined to their shells, there is no way to remove a splinter such as a speck of sand. So, using a substance called “nacre”, it gains relief from its discomfort. Incidentally, “nacre” is the same substance it uses to create its shell. Thus, one can say that a pearl, is in fact, created because the oyster wants to get some kind of peace and rest.

That is why not all oysters which grow in nature have pearls. In a way, oysters who are forced to form a pearl are unwell. Yet, we value the most those pearls which, out of their attempt to gain freedom from pain, create one of the most beautiful object, we - as human beings - find of value. Yet, for the oyster itself, a pearl is somewhat not unlike a scar that cannot be removed but lies there as a constant reminder of an unhappier past.

What does this have to do with us? Well, in today’s society we tend to look at pain of every form as the great evil awhile we view pleasure as the most desirable. But, we forget that while pain and discomfort may not always be necessary, at times we must go through a certain degree of pain and discomfort to grow. And while, during hard times, we may be tempted to escape from an unpleasant reality, the fact that the more we resist our discomfort, the more it will hurt us.

Here, perhaps we can learn from the oyster. While the oyster cannot get rid of a splinter, it uses its own body to make it part of her. However, it does not stop there but keeps the painful intrusion at a safe distance. In this way, while the oyster and the pearl remain connected to each other in one way, the fact is that the oyster is also able to gain relief and carry on with life.Thus, it accepts the pearl into her home but, at the same time, is detached from it.

How many times in our life have we made mistakes>? How many times were we in pain or in an uncomfortable situation? How many times have we felt ashamed of ourselves? I can say that there were quite a few in my life. Yet, can I change them if they happened years ago? Can I change them if their cause remains beyond my control?

The thing is that many times, we cannot change our pasts. So, like oysters, we need to accept that discomfort. However, with the benefit of hindsight and experience or our “nacre”, we can turn our pain into something that is of value and precious, the way we live our life, or our “pearl”. Even if, unlike oysters, we all have to face splinters of pain or discomfort, we all have the potential to change something that is negative into a positive future.

But, first, perhaps we must stop fighting reality if we know we can do nothing about it. And, yes, we cannot avoid to go through a degree of further pain and discomfort to start to heal.

No One Remembers A Loser

Since the world's attention, especially of sports enthusiasts, is drawn on the events of the London Olympics 2012, I thought I might take some time to meditate on the significance of the Olympics. Of course, there were many topics that I could have addressed in this entry. I could ask different questions and considered whether this international event builds bridges between nations. I could have reflected on humanity's ability to push their limits. I could have questioned the fact that people like me, who are disabled, have to participate in a separate para-olympics as if we're not to mix with other athletes. Granted, we may engage in adaptations of certain sports and we would  disadvantaged if we competed with others who lack impairments that would pose limits to their performance. But, as I see it, disabled and non-disabled athletes could learn from each other on many levels.

Yet, I chose to write about "losers", or those athletes who won nothing, performed poorly or even didn't get to the finish line. Even if we say that what is important is participating - not winning - the nature of competitive sport is to ensure you outperform your rival. In such an environment, what matters most is to win. Success is measured by how many points you have gained and failure is disgraceful and not tolerated. In addition, winning is an achievement not only for your team, friends or family but can also an act of patriotism and and a political statement. It has been used to promote the ideologies of Nazism in earlier times.

However, the athletes competing find themselves training to win a gold medal. So, it's only natural that after you have dreamt of excelling and of winning Olympic medals, you don't qualify for any medal. After all the sacrifice , the training and hours preparing for success, you end up empty-handed. You feel you've failed your country, your team, your friends and your family and loved ones. Yet, you also know that you have failed your self. You relive your "failure" ovER and over in your mind. You try to understand what went wrong. You find no answers that fully satisfy. If your fall was serious, you might be remembered as a "loser.

I have never an interest in sport. Despite this fact, there were occasions when I felt I worked hard to achieve a goal, only to fail. I would ask myself how this could have happened. Hadn't I done all my best? I would be disappointed and indulge in self-pity as if I was the victim of a great injustice. I would conclude that it was my fault, or on the other extreme, try to blame external factors. Instead of learning from my experience, I wouldn't move on.

While there's nothing wrong with disappointment and in taking some time to mourn over your loss, I realise today that, at one point, you must put the past behind. This isn't saying that you deny what happened but that you take it as an opportunity to grow. Indeed, such an experience could be opportunity to put your life into perspective and rethinking your life priorities. Unfortunately, our world seems only to celebrate success while ostracising so-called "losers".

On the other hand, the world forgets that true success is often a product of many failures. Our life is the same. Sadly, we often believe in the myths of perfection. A perfection that contradicts the way the world is. We are deluded in a belief that failure is unacceptable and excellence is the ultimate goal. As a child, I learned to walk and I had many falls as well. Now, I find not enough strength to walk or stand up for long. Am I a loser for not persisting in trying and use my time and energy in an attempt to get back to the past? I do understand that some would interpret my choice as admitting failure and I do respect made by other people in my position to recover their strength. Then again, I chose to adapt and dedicate my life to living life. And even if the world might judge me as a loser, I don't to remain attached to a goal that is unrealistic.

I wish everyone competing in this year's London Olympics, all the success. However, in case you lose or under perform, take this as an opportunity to learn from this experience and be prepared to accept that this is part of being human..

While this might be a bitter drug to swallow, you are the only one who really knows how much you have put into it. At the same time, remember that neither success or failure defines who you as a person.