A pen. That is the first thing of any significance that I bought in this year. After two chaotic Decembers, I wanted this one to be different and it indeed was. Actually, there have never been any new year resolutions for me. I am a high-maintenance individual. So, changes, significant and insignificant, are something that is very routine. Coming back to the pen, I am rediscovering the joys of writing on paper, like I am rediscovering the joys of reading real books than just text on the screen. This reminded me that I should try and write when I am cheerful too, I have no obsession with melancholy, it is quality that is the impediment.
Separation is much easier to achieve in action than it is in thought. Which is why we persist in things that hurt us even after it has stopped being of any benefit to us. If you put the separation in thought up ahead, the action in real almost never follows. There should be a qualitative change, positive or negative, from anything that we do, life is way too short to be wasted on languishing. A lot of people think being brave is to be a soldier who faces up to the enemy or someone who overcomes a disability, but even just surviving often takes a lot of bravery, to take blow after blow in your stride and still keep on living, often without an aim or a destination.
I do not think I will ever know the answer for the questions regarding where I am headed. With time I have learnt to live with that uncertainty in my own weird way. But I have also understood that I need to stop doing things if I do not feel like doing them and spend more time and energy on doing things that would be of some value to me, independent of everything else, and be of some use than just being a good worker ant. Luck has played a huge role than ability in where I am today, but I do not want to walk way from it just because of that. I want to do the best I can with it. Sadly, luck is not transferrable.
Relationships. The lesser said about them the better. But I also feel that we (or I?) spend too much time and effort trying too hard to dissect them. I have been discovering that it is way much easier to slot them into simple categories like like/dislike to deal with them. And also accept it that people move on, just like you have moved on from so many. It is only natural that the same happens to you. What happens to certainty then? Well, I have no clue. It is more important for me to be there, even for just 5 minutes, when it matters and certainty is a determent to it. Maybe I'd find my own ground someday, but for now I am too much in love with the vagabond in me.