Opening to The Intimacy of the Soul*

I come to write again after taking time to consider where my life is leading to. I admit, I am still confused about the direction I want to follow in life. I regret that the things that appeared to be of absolute importance to my happiness have become perhaps less important to me at this point in my life. This doesn’t mean that my disability activism, for example, is no longer important to me or that I don’t value the principles of inclusion I believed in before. Principles I dedicated lots of time and energy to promote. Rather, I feel that my calling is elsewhere.

I can understand if only a few readers might relate to my situation. It’s as if, more than ever, I feel a sense of emptiness. Of insignificance. It’s not because there’s emptiness within me. It’s because I realise that, as a human being, I am insignificant when compared to the extend of the cosmos. A cosmos that we can only barely understand with our scientific advances. A cosmos, that we may never be able to really understand.

In this state of silent contemplation, I only find myself confused and lost in an ocean that engulfs my whole being. An ocean which I want to escape from and be rescued from.

Yet, an ocean which I must cross to discover the place I need to be if I want to find more lasting peace and happiness. The refuge of the soul*. The cosmos that appears to mock my pretentious humanity is really drawing me to an authentic understanding of my real nothingness. Like the ocean, I am faced by my sense of nakedness and shame of having to declare my vulnerability and essential nothingness.

I was a child who wanted to know more. Indeed, I was thirsty for answers of why I was here. I admit that the death of my brother David a few months after my birth appears to have profoundly affected me. I realise this fact the more I develop my practice of meditation. It’s as if my need to make sense of my life - or why I am here - has become more important to me. More than anything else, I feel that I must face the challenge posed by an infinite ocean and the nakedness that the eternal cosmos reveals. For, in contrast to all this immensity, I am an impermanent nothing.


I once aspired to become a famous writer in my life. Indeed, this, I admit, was one of the motivations I had to write as a child. To perhaps join in the ranks of those many authors I found on the library shelves (I could reach). Yet, I wrote not just out of vanity but because, the more I wrote, the greater I felt free. There were moments when I wrote continuously, others when I stopped writing for days on end. It was both painful and cathartic to write. It was hard to have to put into words what I felt inside as what I wrote may have sounded brilliant but it never captured the complexity of my thoughts. And, even as I write

today, I am sure that what I finish will always be incomplete and dissatisfying. Hopefully, it is closer to the truth of my being but words and language are only mirrors of a far richer reality we may call the “soul”*. I am aware that while we may place a lot of weight on the words we use or the symbols we communicate, these don’t exist in their own right. A sentence, a book, or any form of expression, will mean another thing in another time or socio-cultural context. Yet, even if we may chose silence, it has also its meaning. However, at least, silence provides us with an opportunity to listen and contemplate on the significance of our human existence.

It may help us to free ourselves from the shackles of ignorance and open that little the intimacy within. 



I know that my life may be misinterpreted as a tragedy. Yes, it appears I lost a lot in the course of these 31 years I’ve been here on the planet. I lost my brother, David, before I could know him. I gradually lost my ability to walk independently, I lost a significant amount of vision and I am just slowly regaining my health and strength. Yet, my life isn’t exceptionally tragic to any degree. Defining me in those terms failsto acknowledge my humanity. I have only experienced more in life than usual, yes, but this doesn’t guarantee that my experience automatically brought with it any wisdom or exceptional insight.

 

A belief that is often implied whenever I talk to a few “religious” strangers. Indeed, I, myself, may have ben deluded by that demon of pride. A pride that seeks out to make one feel that one has the understanding and has the right outlook on life. A pride that refuses to listen and thus be unresponsive or hostile to other views. Views, which may be indeed wrong, but which must be taken notice of for hearts and minds to perhaps change and be more open.

These words would have been outrightly dismissed by my past self. But, these words are the ones I needed to hear.



I am a human being. I am disabled by a society that still considers people, like me, who have impairments, lives apart. We are not heroes, saints, villains, pitiful beings, abnormal, differently-abled or even “special”. Yet, I realise that while I recall all I believe in, I know there’s a deeper longing within that compels me to go beyond my work as a disability activist. For, while this cause is worthwhile and to be commended, I feel a strong need to go beyond impairment and focus more on the wider context of being human.

The fact is that since I grew in my understanding of Buddhism, thanks to the works of HH Dalai Lama and other scholars, I realise how important it is, for me, to reach beyond my self to others. Not because the experiences I have gone through life have made me any wiser. Not that I am special in any way. But because I feel that I must seek the source of my emptiness. To find refuge in knowing that all I have is impermanent and all will end, including my being. To approach this realisation, not with despair or despondency, but with mindful compassion and appreciation of every breath we take.

In doing so, we can wake up and release ourselves from the spell of pride.A point of awareness where we can see the afflictions borne out of hate, greed and desire melt into nothingness. A point where, even if we’re not totally free from our delusions, we are ready to open our heart to others and to all that is around us.
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I feel that unless I fully open my mind and heart to this greater need and purpose, there will always be that sadness in my heart. A dissatisfaction that, whatever I did in my future, all will be overshadowed by the knowing that I didn’t pursue my deepest yearning. That I put aside my call to compassion and to contemplate the purpose of my existence because I wanted to live a relatively comfortable life.



In doing that, I would have violated the intimacy of my soul*! 





* In the context of this article, the meaning of the word “soul” is not to be understood in terms of any religious interpretation. In this sense, the soul may be taken to simply mean conscious awareness in the present - in light of the fact that the “soul” or “self” is, in itself, not a static property of the mind and may indeed cannot be said to have a distinct location in the body but rather arises out of the interplay of the brain and the nervous system.

Longing for a Place to Call Home

It’s now almost a week now since I’ve been living in my new house. Yes, it’s still a ‘house’ to me for now. There have been different emotions that have emerged as if from a deep part of who I am. Even if I’m in a community setting, there’s still a sense of isolation and alienation. I am discovering that settling in isn’t an easy thing. I have doubts at times on whether I was prepared for this radical change. I find myself in a reality that I have to accept. A reality that I wish to deny but is one that I face every waking moment.

I find value in this opportunity as it made me realize that I need my personal space, silence and time to reflect and meditate. I like to socialize, mind you, but I am aware that I like to be on my own. Perhaps this reflects badly on me but I prefer to lead a quiet life and I certainly need some time alone. This, I feel, what still lacks in my new life. I may not be cut out for a community setting. This isn’t anyone’s failure, I know, and I will try to stay here and be open to this experience. I know that many have worked hard and still working to make this transition I success. I owe it to them to, at least, do my best.

However, today, I feel like a refugee, a man without a home. A restless soul seeking peace. The peace of a place to call home. I may need to adapt to my new life but there’s always that lingering sadness and a deep sense of abandonment. I trust that this feeling will one day cease as it is, like anything else in the cosmos, impermanent. I may have to be more willing to reach out to the others who are sharing this experience together with me. But, I admit, that I long for the moments when I have the time to meditate - just listening, just witness life that is unfolding in my presence.

I can’t expect anyone to relate to my need for a time to contemplate. I Know that in my active life, I am expected to be on the go and to react (rather than act). I need a time to reflect about my life - how I am here and where I wish to be. I can forget the past but also   acknowledge the present that I’m living. For every day I am living, I am shaping the future. I must accept that it’s up to me whether to go on living this new life. Inasmuch as there are many things that I can’t control or choose in my life, ultimately, I remain responsible for my own future. A future, I hope, will lead me to further growth and happiness.,  

Having said that, I still struggle with the feeling that I don’t belong here. A feeling that there’s an emptiness that rules my days. An uncertain future, hopes and dreams that have been crushed. A profound longing for a home that I never had and which, it seems,, I will never have. Like the ancient Hebrews during their exile in Babylon, I find myself thinking of the ‘promised land’.

PSALM 137

1  By the rivers of Babylon,

         there we sat down, yea, we wept,

when we remembered Zion.

2  We hanged our harps upon the willows in the midst thereof.

3  For there they that carried us away captive required of us a song;

         and they that wasted us required of us mirth, saying,

Sing us one of the songs of Zion.

4  How shall we sing the LORD's song in a strange land?

Yet, in my case, this promised land of Zion is where I can truly express who I am. A place where I can find a silent place to manifest my full being. I still feel that I am in a strange  land. I feel I don’t yet belong here. This may be a failing on my part. And, I will try to do my best to make it work. The only thing I can truly say is that time will tell. Experience will guide me in how to proceed.

The Desert of Authenticity

This is a period where I feel a strong need of silence. It[‘ a moment where I am completely lost. A moment in my life when the old ways seem not satisfying enough. I am still searching for an answer to the most basic questions of life. I found a lot of help as I read the writings of people who have or are wiser than me and who have gained insight from their experiences. I admit that I am particularly drawn into the contemplative traditions found both in Buddhism and Christianity. I am filled with a sense of hope and mystery on reading many works written by His Holiness the Dalai Lama and the late cistercian monk, Father Thomas Merton who was a contemplative monk.

There are many reasons why I chose these figures in particular. I can say that these two people  have reawakened   a sense of being within me that acknowledges our human condition but, at the same time, transcends it. Indeed, both figures have emphasised the importance of prayer, meditation and mindfulness that is balanced by work and action in the real world. Believe or good intention is not enough if we really want to express who we truly are. I confess that I’n not sure whether this sense of dissatisfaction  which has compelled me to start changing my life,. However, there’s always that doubt where I find myself asking whether my intention to find meaning in another way life is not simply my attempt to escape reality and whether this ‘call’ I feel is really authentic or whether it’s another way to boost my sense of self and inflate my pride.

While contemplation requires us to take action, I believe, it’s essential for us to understand who we are and cultivate our compassion to others. Yet, who is this other? Who is ‘the other? In Buddhist texts, one is encouraged to cultivate compassion to those you love and are close to your heart, then to those who you are neutral to, and finally, to those who have become your enemies. But, while we may be prepared to open our hearts to the first two groups, our hearts seem to harden in face of our enemies. But, in truth, this is inconsistent even with Jesus’ call to go beyond loving those who love us and extend our love to our enemies. I’m not saying that loving one’s enemies is easy - especially when we are harmed by them. I don’t even claim I am close to attaining that degree of compassion. However,  it’s clear that these appeals for us to be compassionate  contain a  message that bids us to recognise our common humanity.

I feel burdened by the uncertainty that seems to haunt me today. I continue with cultivating my understanding of Buddhism while searching for parallels of Buddhist teachings Found in Christianity. At first, I feared that my journey into Buddhism meant that I was becoming a kind of a Christian  heretic. Yet, what I seek to find appears to fortify my resolve and commitment to a cause, I believe, is  far greater than any limited understandings of humanity based on a closed world view that is more ready to defend the law than to live the spirit of the law. I have become aware that it may be more important to me to cultivate the seeds of love and compassion and promote dialogue and genuine cooperation rather than to engage in conflict and hate in the name of doctrine and dogma. I feel it’s important to change who you are for the better rather than expect others to change first. However, that is  why it’s essential  for us to understand who we really are before we can grow. At least, I feel that we cannot truly be authentic before we ask ourselves questions and be ready to challenge our own beliefs about who we think we are.

Over these past few weeks, I came up with three questions I feel I must answer to clarify my current sense of not knowing. I will just list them with a few reflections:

Who am I?  

This question relates to being. At the most basic, who are we? Are we not ordinary human beings who must face similar stages of life? Don’t we all get sick, get old (if we make it) and die? Don’t we all suffer in some way or another in this life? Or, do I perceive myself as separate or even superior to other human beings just because I don’t really consider them worthy of my respect or compassion? Or, on the other extreme, have I 

chosen to see myself as a victim who is less than other people to escape from taking responsibility over my life? 

Read the reflection 

What am I?

This question relates to belonging. Who are those groups I have been identified with? Ho are those groups which I have chosen to be part of? What community or identity have I adopted to define who I am as a person? Does my  choice about which groups I associate with creating barriers when relating to other human beings outside my group or community?

Read the reflection.

Why am I?

This question relates to becoming. It is a question that is intrinsically linked to the questions of being and belonging. It’s a question that seeks to understand our true purpose or commitment in life. While we are meant to reflect on our being and on where we feel we belong in the world, , this question goes further as it invites us to ask ourselves what it means to be authentic to who we truly are. Simply put, it’s a question that is asking us whether we Are living in harmony with our authentic being. In addition, it is beckoning to ask ourselves whether we have thought about the meaning of our being itself and whether we have managed to find meaning and purpose to our lives.

Read the reflection to the last question.. 

Conclusion

I will end this entry here. I will be reflecting and meditating on these questions as I feel a strong need to better understand the source of my sense of loss and discovery. I hope you have the time to think about them but, of course, it’s completely up to you. I confess that the more I delve deeper into my being, the more I feel there is so much to find. I don’t know if I’ll find any answer or find peace at the end. But, I feel, that I owe it to myself and to all those around me to become a better person. 

Ultimately, this life can be thought of  as a personal call to be authentic!

Surrender to an Emptiness of Being

I find that I am at a point in my practice when I am faced with a deep sense of emptiness. I cannot describe what this feeling is like. I am sorry that I am lost for words.

The more I contemplate about life, the more I realise how empty my life really is. Not because it lacks joy, happiness or meaning. But, rather, it’s because I know that there’s a lot I don’t know and much of it I will never know in a lifetime.

I hesitate to write about the after-life, for in truth, I am not sure of that either. I am reluctant to speak of God because talking about God is dangerous for I’ve been witness to many who profess to believe in a god they created in their own image.

I am faced with an uncomfortable emptiness as I think of who I am. Or, more accurately, who I thought I was. I recognise that my life is insignificant compared to the immensity of the universe we inhabit. The universe that I believe exists but of that I am not sure either. And, then, there is a darkness which compels me to admit that I am lost. That I was always lost and my previous beliefs were, in many ways, delusions.

I am burdened by a sense of sadness. And sadness is not even the right word. It’s not a sadness borne out of despair or desperation but one which emerges from the awareness of my nothingness. My realisation of the futility of a life spent chasing personal gain at the expense of other beings.

I realise that what I write may not make any sense. I apologise for that. I don’t have the answers to life’s questions. The more I contemplate about life, the greater is the sense of unknowing. The greater I find that I will never know. But, perhaps, this is the lesson that I need to learn. That I have to admit that, inasmuch as I may accumulate knowledge, this is a time when I must be humble enough to acknowledge my true insignificance and helplessness in life.

I need to surrender and accept the reality of my humanity. This is not about giving up on life but it’s about accepting reality. It’s about recognising that I am like other human beings limited in how much I can know or understand. It’s a humility that is not ashamed of its own limitations. It’s not a defeat or even an escape from life - even if those can be potential risks.

I want to search for truth. I want to manifest my authentic being. But now, I only sense a deep sadness, perceive a boundless emptiness and a blinding darkness. I see no hope of release. No hope in belief or science. I am consumed by doubt and fear.

To this emptiness, I surrender.

The Mystery of Being Human

Two questions:

Who are you?

Who am I?

Some personal reflections…

Are we our body?

Are we our faces?

Are we our voice?

Are we our thoughts?

Are we our feelings or emotions?

Are we our actions?

Are we our personalities?

Are we our name?

Are we our position?

Are we our language?

Are we our faith or belief?

Are we animals?

Are we spiritual beings?

Are we here for a purpose?

Is there an answer?

I find that these are a few of the many questions that I am growing aware of as I practice contemplative Buddhist meditation. There are so many aspects of who we are that we may be forced to define as distinct concepts as if they had an existence of their own.
Yet, a profound meditation on the nature of being forces me to consider that perhaps who I am is neither one or more of the characteristics we often define ourselves with. Our bodies, minds and voices to an extent determine our outer and physical appearance. Our inner being is expressed through a multitude of ways which include those we were born with and others we acquire through social contact. However, we are not our emotions. We are not our voice. We are not our states of mind. We are neither our name or our religion.

Yet, we often choose to belief the illusion that the reality that we express through communication is, in fact, reality itself.

With all the good intentions, some take extreme views to explain the human condition. On one hand, there are those who view reality only in terms of physical objects. There exist nothing beyond what science can measure. On the other hand, there are those who insist that the physical or material reality - although present - isn’t really what makes us humans. I recall some citing a saying to the effect that, it claims, we are spiritual beings trapped in human bodies.

Inasmuch as these accounts contain part of the truth about being, both views seem to hold a limited view of being. For what is a human being? As long as we are alive on this planet, we remain physical beings. At the same time, we are capable to extend our awareness beyond ourselves. We can think. But, contrary to Descartes, we are not who we are because we think. Rather, being is primary to thinking.

Indeed, who we are arises out of aa complex relation between our internal and external realities which give rise to a sense of being. In this respect, we are all of the things that we choose to be but who we are, ultimately, transcends all else. We are beyond concepts.


Once again, I return to being? What does it mean to be me? Who are we really? I believe that we can only find an answer if we stop asking and start listening. For, in silence and with a sincere desire to know, we may find that what we conceive or perceive are but a mystery.

Yes, we may reduce consciousness to a biological process involving interaction between neurones in the brain. We may even deny that there is any reality beyond matter. But, if who we are is an illusion which, in some ways, it is. Then who is asking the question to begin with?

Who is the ‘I’ that is doing the asking?

Who is asking ‘who am I’?

I am!

Now what?

More than the Sum of my Parts

I don’t know what happened since I turned 30. The way I view the world and, I dare say, who I am, has undergone profound changes. I could try to explain what I’m feeling right now but I have noticed the change. I seem to have found something that was long lost. It’s like I have met an old friend. It feels as if I ham back home. I don’t even know where you’re reading this. I guess I posted this it on my two main blogs. But, then, these blogs only reflect an aspect of my identity. Or, really, my ideas about who I am. For while in ZoneMind, I express my discovery of the richness of the Buddhist tradition and try to capture my experience as I embark on a lifelong journey of self-discovery and on my practice of meditation.. And, on my other blog, the D-Zone, I express my point of view as a disabled activist.

But, now, I wonder about whether people reading just one blog will get a whole picture of who I am. Indeed, we tend to know people in terms of the positions they hold, the jobs they perform, their income, their religion or in terms of the group they represent. The risk is that by seeing people in terms of categories and concepts,we miss the whole picture. We miss to acknowledge their humanity and their dignity. By setting them in a language of difference, we have the tendency to stereotype them and by doing so, defile their dignity.

Until now, I presented who I am to the world in many ways. To my friends, I don’t behave the same way I would do with my family or with my parents for that matter. But, am I being less authentic when I take up these different, sometimes inconsistent, identities?

Yes and no. For, I believe that we must adapt to the particular audience or person we are relating to. You wouldn’t speak to your boss in the same way you would talk to your ten year old nephew.

But, at the same time, I believe that there’s a certain authenticity that you need to respect and cultivate. I have come to a hard time in my life where I’m at the crossroads.

I am happy with my discovery of a forgotten sense of belonging to a wider humanity. Yet, I recognise that I have chosen to define myself in definite terms - even if my intention was to claim my belonging to the world, I realise that I built more walls and barriers.

Truly, I am confused because I am not sure what to do next. Yet, I have a clarity of purpose.

I have the location but no map to guide me.

I am lost but feel found. I ask myself questions about my current purpose and whether I can ever find the completeness I feel inside fully present on the outside.

I continue to meditate. I try to cultivate compassion and genuine love. I also fail and fail. But I want to keep trying. I don’t feel that any other choice would be as fulfilling as that. I know that I will never achieve a state of uninterrupted happiness in this life but happiness I will strive for. I have defined myself as a ‘disabled person’ here and elsewhere. I remain disabled in the sense that society still raises barriers of structure and attitude that shout at me: Keep Out! Yet, I confess, I did erect my own barriers by using my difference as a weapon to emphasise my separateness.

When, in truth, my aim was the opposite. I wanted to belong. But, in the process, I sought to belong for the wrong reasons. I spent part of my childhood with a need to define myself in terms of intelligence and IQ. Perhaps I wanted to escape my disappointment for being labelled as different, as other, because a mobility problem. Because I walked differently. Because I looked, in some way, strange. Yes, I wanted to belong. But I thought I could feel special if I set myself apart, better and higher than all the rest!

Have I committed the same mistake when I grew attached to a new identity, however positive? Am I today, by remaining in the social position I held before, being inauthentic to my core being? Is it time for a change? I think that if I want to be completely honest with myself, I have to say yes…

Yes!

Indeed, I might Have , unknowingly, fragmented my identity in neatly separate boxes, wen I felt inside that I was, as I had discovered in Gestalt and Buddhism, more than the sum of my parts? Is change necessary? I feel I have a commitment to who I am. I need to reclaim my full humanity. I need to manifest my humanity.

I need to reach out to the world, because we are interconnected to each other. We are separate but united. We are divided yet joined. We are unique yet the same. We remain human.

Born of a mother, prone to illness and old age. We can die at any moment.

I have to be what I was always meant to be.

This might be the most important purpose of my life.

To be authentic to my being.

To be fully human.

To be open to the world.

To be who I am!

A Time for Contemplation

A HAIKU...

In contemplation

Finding self in nothingness

A sad happiness.

MANY RANDOM REFLECTIONS...

I am still trying to understand the thoughts and feelings that are going through my mind and which have touched my heart. I have meditated regularly over the course of the months I started this blog. I have grown in many ways but, today, I feel very different than the person I was before. Although I have shaved my hair and am more aware of my appearance, the changes I speak of are not physical. They can’t be studied through the lens of a microscope or even described in terms of letters, words are by using conventional language or one that relies on signs and symbols, sounds or phonemes. Indeed, language may even be a barrier in explaining what I feel inside.

I drafted this entry more than one time. The truth is that I can’t find the right words to express what this experience is all about. The haiku I presented above comes close to expressing the feeling, this realisation and this wisdom. For only in silence, do I seem to find noise. Only in stillness, do I find motion. Only in quietude , do I find distraction. Not that silence and stillness give rise to disorder but the fact that I realise that the chaos I now perceive was always there. It was part of me all along. But who was I? What am I now?

A few questions…

Who am I without the world and all nature that sustains my mind and body, provides me with air, food and water?

Who am I without my family, friends, community, culture, or society?

Who would I be if I had no mother to bring me to the world?

I only know the answer to the last one. If I had no mother to bring me to the world, I wouldn’t be here. And, many times, we don’t realise how precious this life of ours is. We seek money, power, status or whatever lights our negative desires. We hate, envy, hate, kill and judge because we think we are more worthy and perhaps more holy. But then, what will remain of our life if we burn our time and energy in the pursuit of an unattainable happiness?

I feel I must ask these questions. I don’t pretend to have the answers. I, myself, still struggle with these desires that inflate the importance of human possessions. This isn’t saying that I don’t think that all we seek to live a better life is bad or unimportant. What I’m saying that I realise that if these things come before other people or are the reason for harming others, then they become destructive.

For, as I am reminded during my meditation, I cannot claim to own anything in my life. I haven’t created my body or mind. I haven’t created the world I live in or the universe. I just found myself here. And, really, I can’t even say that my self is truly the product only of my will or effort. My very survival depends on other people. Other people depend on me. Our lives are separate, yes, but still connected.

I feel burdened by these thoughts. I sometimes feel like crying. For, it seems that I am returning home. To a place where I was always meant to be. A place I was before I was born. But, I admit, I am confused. I feel a calling. Or should that be “hear a calling”? For, this “voice” which is calling has neither words and language.

It is a “voice” that speaks to me in silence. One that reveals to me my own vulnerability and weaknesses. A “voice” that challenges my preconceptions and previous world view so radically that I cannot speak or think of any counter-argument. A “voice” that questions my core belief that I am a self that is totally separate from other human beings. A “voice” that forces me to see my own reflection in everyone, including those which society has defined as “monsters”.

Am I trying to escape life through contemplation? Am I being sincere and authentic in my pursuit of peace and happiness? Is this another excuse to give up on what I started earlier in my life? A flight of fancy? Only to be destroyed as I grow older?

I'm not sure of the answers. I never felt this way. It's like, suddenly, life makes sense. Life has a deeper meaning than ever before. And, yet, life also appears so absurd and so unreal. For all seems to be bound to cease. All life must die. All matter will dissipate. And, then, who will I be?

Can I remain untouched by this realisation? Can I ever resolve all these contradictions? I feel there is something missing in my life that I'm only discovering now. Perhaps I always knew it but was too enchanted by an illusion that happiness can be found beyond me when it can only find myself.

And, then, I shouldn't even be asking, "Who am I?" but, rather, I should be asking "what is I”? For, apart from the person that I present to the world, there is an essence I cannot name. A part of me beyond time, mass or space. You may call it God. But that is such a charged word.

I feel I can’t find peace in my heart until I am.

I need to change.

I may be sorry and even disappoint some people whom I love and respect for not living the life I also thought I wanted.

That is why that I need to seriously reflect and meditate about the step. For the consequences may be radical and, I admit, I still feel so confused and unsure of my thoughts, feelings and emotions.

But, then, what if this sense of being was authentic?

Can I risk living a life that, happy as it may turn out to be, remains disconnected from my authentic being?

Can I persist In ignoring or avoiding this feeling of being that is full of contradictions because I’m afraid that I’ll find nothing at the end of my journey?

I only know that I feel I need to know. Or at least ask the question. For, hard as it may be, living the life that is authentic is the best way to live. Any other existence would be so empty and vain.
I am not sure if this entry makes any sense or if it will make sense when I read it in the future. A future that is unknown to us. A future that is beyond us. And, yes, we act as if the future was a guarantee when it’s only a promise. A promise that includes only one certainty - the certainty of death.

It may sound sad to speak of death again. Yet, it’s death that should remind us of the urgency of living a life to the best of our being. It is death that should make us willing to see ourselves in others. It is this realisation of death which should awaken our hearts to our common humanity. It is only when we fully appreciate the lessons of death that we can ever come to appreciate how valuable and precious our life is. And how insignificant we really are in face of the wider universe. I wonder why I have abandoned my childhood innocence to pursue more temporal and unsatisfying things.

But, early on, I was introduced to an ethics based on pride and perfection. I was taught to be proud of my country, my language, my culture and my “God”. My, my, my! I was taught that I had to succeed and that failure was a sign of weakness. But I was the last person to be an example of perfection but, yes, I was proud!

Now, I witness a far greater reality and, again, I return to the beginning. I haven’t structured this entry because I’m unsure where to start or finish. I feel lost and found. I feel happy and sad. I feel calm and restless. I want to speak but remain speechless. I understand but I don’t know. I am nothing but I am.

I could go on forever and, apologies. Apologies for going on at such length. But, I had to express this confusion for, even if limited and somewhat distorting, this flow of feelings may actually start making sense. Perhaps not today. But they may in the unforeseeable future.