Rivers and Rapids

As a child I had been forced to attend certain classes, which were conducted in a language I didn’t quite understand. I was told, it was the language of the gods. In balavihar, I soon understood what the Gods were trying to tell me in Sanskrit. Being a CHYK, or a member of the Chinmaya Yuva Kendra, helped me further unfold this secret message from the Gods. I realised He spoke in many languages, if only we could make ourselves available to His message. Through CHYK classes and camps, I was exposed to the study of a different kind of science, the science of life. My recent experience at the Youth Empowerment Programme, felt truly empowering and has cultivated in me a sense of direction, a zest to strive for perfection and overcome my limitations. Perhaps the greatest gift that CHYK has given me, is to plant in me a sense of gratitude, towards my nation and my culture and a platform to give back, through service.

Man is intriguing, all around us, we try to conquer nature, try to be one up on everything external, but when it comes to us, say an emotional problem or a personal crisis, we fall, unable to row ourselves out of the rapids that life offers us. And yet, we conquer the seas and the oceans and the rivers, we play with fire, toy with nature’s bounties, believing in our absoluteness, in our invincibility.

Somewhere, we lose faith in ourselves, our abilities. And that faith is rekindled when we are tested, we see how it is born out of us, effortlessly through some innate power that drives us. The experience of white water river rafting does just this, by giving us an opportunity to act zealously, live courageously, and reflect thoroughly.

Dear Diary,

Today I saw the river in its most playful mode. It was truly exciting. As part of a Chinmaya Yuva Kendra camp in Uttarkashi, I went rafting in the holy Ganges. It was as holy as it had been the day before (when we took holy dips at Gangotri), but much less fierce (in terms of its temperature), much more friendly and youthful. I realised God spoke in many languages. He spoke to us through the trees and the nature, through this Mighty River and through our experience on the raft. We could hear him, if only we could make ourselves available to His message. Being a CHYK, helped me further unfold this secret message from God. CHYK, through its camps facilitated learning in a unique way, known as ‘outdoor experiential learning’, through rafting and other such activities, and what a learning it was.

The day began early. We reached the sandy beach and were split into groups of six, given our life jackets, and introduced to our guide. The guide carried out his duties well, and most importantly, he told us our rafting jingle! We were all enthused and prepared to take on the mighty river! As I stood on the shore, waiting for our turn, I realized the irony of the situation. We were looking forward to facing rapids. I smiled to myself and I thought, wouldn’t it be wonderful if we faced life with the same enthusiasm? Wouldn’t it be the right attitude to face the rapids in our lives as a challenge, as a thrill? What a Sport life would become, a game, a beautiful journey.

Being the last group to go, we saw the others in action. They were being told when to row, how to sit, and to be quite honest, it looked and sounded a little complicated. The guides seemed pretty tough, let me just say this was no vacation cruise on a fancy yacht.

All geared up and slightly unnerved, we pushed our raft into the river, and I took the place I was assigned. All six of us were told which direction to row in, how to sit, when to row and the speed and effort at which we were to row. And then it was the guide’s time to shine. As we chartered unknown waters I thought to myself, “This is it, from this moment on, Mr. Guide, you are my God and my life is in your hands.” With a quick prayer, I paid attention to each and every instruction we were given. The first thing he said was that now we were to act like a team, we must keep rowing at all times and that every member of the team must play his or her part, irrespective of what position they have been given. Now I have to admit, at some point I must have got distracted by the beauty of the river and the excitement of finally being in the water, but if one is to do river rafting, one should pay attention to the instructions.

So the journey began, we were one on one with the river. Through her we ran, holding our oars tight and making our way through. Each oar gave the raft a direction and our instructor led us through the waters of the mighty Ganges. It was his correct guidance that channelized our strength to row properly when the rapids came. The first rapid was the hardest, I guess because I wasn’t sure of what to do, moreover, I wasn’t sure I could do it. It was an intense moment. The leader was shouting instructions at us all, “Row faster! Right hand row backwards! Keep rowing!”, and I’m thinking, “Why don’t you do it! You are a professional!” But Voila! We made it through! It’s a great feeling, that. A strange feeling of accomplishment, to do something for the first time and to do it well.

Crossing the first rapid called for a celebration, obviously. The leader told us all to lift our oars up in the air in a huddle and along with it, we sang our victory jingle! “Go baby, go baby, Go Baby!” and once again, we were highly energised to face our next rapid, as a team.

As we went along, one of the rapids was truly challenging for me. I think it was towards the end. My arms were tired of rowing, and this rapid was either particularly strong or I was weary or both. The force of the water was strong. It was splashing both inside and outside the raft. We all were drenched and I slipped out of position and fell inside the raft. I had almost given up on the rowing, I was tired and to be honest, I didn’t think they would miss me much. The others were strong and were handling it just fine. Just then, the instructor looked at me and yelled in a most rude manner, “Row, Now!” I was taken aback, but I resumed my post and did what I was told. Dear diary, I can never forget that man yelling at me and asking me to row. There is no room to feel sorry for yourself when you are headed towards your goal. It is not about you. Your duties are your own and must be done. In a team each must perform to his potential, only then can the team overcome rapids and swim towards the goal. Contrary to what we were told in school and our workplaces, in life you are indispensible. Life is indispensible. That one line has taught me so much. How easily we make things about us, not being sensitive to our family, friends and co-workers. At the end of the day, a team can perform well, and a balance can be maintained when all the team members do their duty well. If harmony is to be maintained, duties must be performed at all times.

Lord Krishna says to Arjuna in the third chapter of the Bhagwad Geeta, “Yoga of Action”,

Niyatam kuru karma tvam karma jyayo hy akarmanah

Sarira yatrapi ca ten a prasiddhyed akarmanah. Ch 3, 8.

Perform your obligatory duty, because action is indeed better than inaction.
Even the maintenance of your body would not be possible by inaction.

Wherever we are in our lives, we have been stationed for a purpose, why not explore our potential and live our purpose.

We reached the shore after fighting some more rapids and occasionally jumping into the river where it was calm. At one place our guide told us to jump off the raft and it was toppled over. It was thoroughly exciting. All of us worked together to turn the raft over and pulled each other back into the rafts, right before another rapid waited to greet us.

We were tired when we reached but exhilarated. One cannot say what we enjoyed more, the rapids or the occasional swim, and I would have to say both, as it all culminated into a grand experience. While we rowed through the last stretch, it wasn’t the destination that we looked forward to, we rowed because that’s what we had to do. The Bhagwat Geeta also teaches us not to be driven by the end product, rather enjoy the process of getting there. We rowed because we must. The enjoyment of the process, the experience of getting there is more important than the end result. So, we must perform our actions and carry out our duties efficiently rather than worrying about the results. The journey is what made the entire experience exciting, not the destination.

My reflections on what the rapids taught me!

Have the right perspective: A slight change in the way we look at things, can change everything. It is really up to us whether we see a situation as a crisis or as an opportunity to grow and learn. Albus Dumbledore says to Harry Potter, “It is our choices that make us truly who we are, far more than our abilities.” Choosing the right attitude, builds character.

Be Bold: When the sea of life faces a storm, be bold and stand your ground. We might be surprised to see what we are made of. Let us understand that every rapid that comes to us, makes us stronger.

Play your part, and play it well: At all times, we must perform our duties. Living our dharma is the only way to maintain a harmonious balance between the individual and society, lest the raft of life, topple over.

Be one with the moment: Let us not fall prey to worry and anticipation. Live in this moment, “Let your mind be where your hands are”, Gurudev says. Enjoy both, calm waters and rapids equally, for it is all part of the experience. Remember, the journey is more important than the destination.

Faith: Virtually all tasks are possible with this key ingredient. Have faith, in yourself, in your team and most of all in God. He will guide you to your destination, provided you are willing to row the boat. There is a much larger plan, and you are a part of it.

A pen, paper and a back-pack

Some of us, rather most of us are waiting to find a job that pays us to do what we love. It is rather rare, but it does happen.

There is one thing common between travelling and writing: they both require a sort of free spiritedness. Most great people, saints and other learned men, travelled extensively and wrote with great fervour about their travels. On reading such a book of experiences, what comes through is not an itinerary of their travels, but something much more subtle: A glimpse into the soul of the writer and into the places visited.

Here’s welcoming you to the never static, ever-dynamic journey that is the life of a travel writer.

Travel literature today is much more commercially viable than it perhaps was just a decade ago as tourism reaches new heights. People are going places, and writers are telling people where to go.

However, the art of travel writing is more spiritual than anything else. A writer can bring in a third dimension depending on his ability to capture the pulse of the space he is in, whether it is a five star hotel or a village hut, the travel writer is first a traveller, ever ready to explore.

The three-fold mantra:

Explore:

You don’t need to save money to take a trip to a resort in Singapore or a haveli in Udaipur to be inspired to write. Start simple, perhaps a trip to a local monument or a nearby town. Remember, travelling and writing have much to do with exploration within and without. While exploring a place, its nooks and corners, conversing with the locals, is an ideal way to capture its pulse, writing requires a different kind of exploration, a journey within. A good travel write up is thus, a perfect balance between exploration and introspection.


Travel is not just the movement of the body but also of the soul. Simply put, a travel journalist must take all he can from the outside, mix it with what’s on the inside to produce something extraordinary.

Words of caution: All tourists are not travellers, all travellers are not tourists.

"A good traveller has no fixed plans, and is not intent on arriving." - Lao Tzu

Express:

Research always makes for good writing. But if I wanted just information, I would google it and toss your write up in the bin.

While research can get you only so far, a unique style of writing can get you further. Add to that a unique perspective and you’ve got an article with personality.

A good write up is not only informative but should also have the ingredients to inspire the reader to travel.

Point to remember: It’s not the place that makes a man, but the man who makes the place.

Expand:

There is good and then there is great. An extraordinary article is made of not three but four dimensions, one which comes only with experience and exposure. Fortunately, a travel writer’s job is all about exposure.

A person who has an adventurous spirit and a polite independence is born to travel. Blend it with a passion for writing and you’ve got a travel writer good to go. An experienced traveller has that extra zing in his writing, which makes for a write up hard to forget.

Few words of wisdom: A seasoned traveller finds the excitement in the journey, not just the destination.

Travel often; getting lost will help you find yourself.

Institutes offering a course in travel writing:
The college of the world

Qualifications required:
A mandatory degree in free-spirited-ness
Must own or (have the ability to borrow) a bagpack
A sturdy pair of walking shoes
And a flair for writing

When and where can you start:
Here and Now.

Hope floats

My father is a good man.

He has led a long and tiresome life, much of a it a roller coaster ride, but over all, he has been good. Whatever little I know of his past, for I wish not to probe, I see he has gone through a lot and has become a man commanding great respect. He has wronged though, but then again, who hasn't.

I, for one, feel immense provide of having come from him. For whatever my father is, if I am even an iota of that, I shall feel satisfied. Though I shall pray to the Lord I so believe in, I hope He may not give me suffering as he has to him. But hasn't He made a man of great character? Of immense spirit? One cannot argue.

My mother, she's one of a kind.

Words fail me, for like the great saints say, the Truth is indescribable, and can only be sought through indicators. My mother is a woman of great substance. A tall tower of strength. It often amazes me how so much can be packaged in a petite silhouette.

Just because I'm a writer...doesn't mean I'm lost. We all are.

People should take pride in their miseries. The shit you go through in life has a lot to do with what you become.

Everyday I feel like I am losing a part of me, and finding this whole new person inside me. Then, there are days when I miss me, and again there are days when I wake up and I feel like I have been sleeping for a long time...Like I have been living a dream. Not in a good way or a bad way, nothing cynical about it, just when you look back and you feel like you have been living like someone else...Doesn't make much sense, I know. But then if it did, this blog would have been called "already-found-sanity.blogspot.com".

Chris Martin of Coldplay has a way with words. He says in his song 'Lost', "Just because I'm losing, doesn't mean I'm lost...You might be a big fish in a little pond, doesn't mean you've won 'cuz along will come a bigger one...and you'll be lost..."

Take a minute to take this all in.

Breathe.

Smile.

What a journey it is, this life...of triumphs and failures. And in the end, all is lost. Nothing matters, except who you have become. If we would only realize the race is not amongst us. In the end we are all nothing but lost. Ha ha! The medals, the triumphs, the failures, all amount to a big zero! What are we arguing about?

Acceptance is key. And it's right there inside us. But that too, is lost.

Who are you?

I am the kinda gal who sees things for what they are. Most of the time. I work at it very consciously, but of course, there are times when I find it difficult to keep the third person perspective on things.

In spirituality they say, we should learn to move away from our likes and dislikes and start 'witnessing' situations, people and life as objects. This is a subtle concept. The idea behind it is basically to slowly become less attached to people and things. Again, a very misunderstood idea.

Attachment causes pain. Attachment means expectations. Expectations means disappointment, means hurt, means anger so on and so forth. They are subtle concepts, hard to practice, very easy to preach. Lifetimes are spent in this attempt to overcome attachment.

At a much simpler level, if we just observe people, or ourselves, we will see that a person who has more likes and dislikes, will experience more pain and disappointment. I guess, that is why all spiritual people, all religions talk about 'contentment'.

Freedom from likes and dislikes makes us freer. Like a vagabond living beside a lake, with the clouds as his blanket and the milkyway as his night light.

One last thought, as babies, I don't think we have any likes and dislikes as such. Remember, how experimental you were as a 2-year-old? Hey, let's play this and let's break that! And let's try putting our finger in the socket!

How much of us is conditioning?

And when they ask us to write, "About you" in those social networking websites, what do we end up writing...Name, qualification, interests...some we are born with, but most of these answers have already be given to us...

Let us try and probe further.

So tell me, "about yourself". Who are you? And I don't want to know what you do, or where you live or what you like. Let's hear it then.

Crossing the bridge

I am at that crossroads in my life. It's no big deal, everyone goes through it, and they come out of it alive, I know all that, but it's a different thing when it happens to you. You see, I am this college girl who has started going to office. You see?

I feel like such a kid. It is hard enough for me to digest that this is now my life for the rest of my life, to top that, I have to adjust to being treated like the little bug who gets eaten by the bigger bug who is stepped on by the giant human. "You are the lowest in the rung", thats what my HR guy told me in my "orientation". What an ass. I guess, we all have to start there, so I'll learn to live with it.

There is no pampering in office. No Mr Nice guy, no saviour, nothing. It's just you and a whole lot of work. Most of the times I feel lost. Oh how I hate that feeling of being absolutely out-of-place. I miss my google days. They treated us like kings and queens during our internship there. *Sigh*

But college was great. Now I realize why all grownups miss college and school days. Absolutely no responsibilities. Noone to answer to, no money to earn, no work to do, noone can fire you from school and jeopardize your entire career (they can, but they won't). But in office, the first chance they get to squeal on you, they'll take.

Bitter-suite it is actually. It's kind of empowering to be making money and not asking your parents. I love being accountable for something actually, it makes me feel important.

Wow, sounds like I am working for all the wrong reasons.

Hard to digest, truths about myself

So, I promise this one's going to be a light read. Except that it won't and you shouldn't hope for it either.

I have been thinking. Many things. I have been hearing words, eavesdropping on conversations, deciphering song lyrics, analyzing advice and there's a lot going on. Within and without.

My boss today tells me I have a way with words, and I have a promising future as a journalist. This after she told me I need to pull up my socks and perform "up to the mark". Don't get me wrong, she was write in telling me to perform better, I have been goofing up quite a bit, what with it being my first job, I am still struggling with the place and the pace of it all.

I was pretty shattered when she gave me a reality check on the phone. I don't do well with criticism, and I don't know what to do when I know I am trying so hard to perform. It's tough being told "You're not doing it right." when all you really are trying to do, is to do it right! I doubt my abilities in such situations, it's not just a casual experience for me.

I have developed this strange passion for excellence lately. And this love for my career. This strong feeling of direction and dedication. I haven't ever felt it this way before, and so, after trying and feeling, it's kind of disheartening being told what I was told today.

But I guess she made up for it, by telling me she saw me as a promising writer. But I doubt she really felt it. I don't know. All I know is, I got to keep at it. I have never wanted to be something like I want to these days, which is pretty awesome in itself.

So then it got me thinking about "words", and what it means when someone says you have a "way with words". It could mean you know what to say when, but I don't think that's what my boss meant.

For me, writing is all about expression. A good piece of writing, comes from a person with substance. This brings me to the song lyric bit I mentioned earlier. I have re-discovered Coldplay. Their not so new album, "Viva la Vida and Death and all it friends" is quite beautiful. A unique combination of music and lyrics, phenomenal stuff. Though whatever songs I have heard their lyrics are quite contextual, but I still wonder where they came from. I mean, it's easy to write stories, okay not "easy", but what I mean is, storytelling is one thing, you know, one thing leads to another, its more sequential. I like the way their songs are so open to interpretation. A line could be understood independent of the entire song and it would still make sense. That's why I say good writing comes from substance, or a deep understanding, an intense feeling and just the right words.

Such people are rare, whose writings touch your heart. Who say the right words to convey a feeling which all of us feel, but say it in such an ordinary manner. I think that's what leaves me spellbound about Richard Bach's writing. He says the simplest things, in the simplest way, and yet, not in a way you and I can express. Good writing requires a whole lot of reflection and self analysis. You have to take an experience, a feeling, make it yours, feel it completely, deeply and then express it.

I don't quite remember why or when I started writing. I took to it in school, in creative writing competitions. Only when I won one of those competitions I felt I could write and people actually could comprehend what I wrote. It was more about my ideas that time. My creative world of ideas that I could weave into a story. But as I grow, I find myself fascinated with the idea of words. A good writer can express reality in words of fantasy. As my good "friend" Joey says, "It's not what you say, but how you say it."

Am still thinking.

More on this later.

My Prayer

Dear God,

Let me have a passion and let me live for it. Let me wake up each morning to make my dream come true. Let each moment alive be inspired. Let me want something so bad, so bad that I can't live without it.

Thats all

Me

Life beckons! Life beacons!

I wandered along a unit of time, and I wondered if I can call it "Life".

I say no, it can't be so, just some stuff happening over a period of time? Is this all that is my life?

A series of happenings, perhaps?

Of questions and answers maybe...

A herd of Actions?

Or a bunch of results? Karma & Karma phalla?

A race to the end? The end being Death?

A wait.

A lesson learnt...

Chaos?

A process of unfoldment...

A journey.

When the going gets tough...I get going.

After a rather short stint in Mumbai, I rushed home at the call of my mother and my inner voice. The situation at home was as it had been for the last three years now, except a little worse. A happy home it has been in the toughest of situations, and everyone here hates to admit it, even when the evidence that we are going through a tough time, is extremely high. I have to give it to the Puri's for this, there is no such thing as a family "Crisis" in our dictionary, we have seen too many to call them that.

Its a loving home. Created by loving parents. A great place to come home to after a tiring day. To be honest, Mumbai had been tough on me the last few days before I came home, so when mom called, I did not argue, I packed my bags and left. For the first time realizing what a loving home my parents had made for me and how fortunate I was to have them.

First two weeks back home were blissful. Being with them, making my folks smile, it was the absolute best feeling, always is. I saw myself being sensitive towards them, thinking of them more than of myself. Long chats with mom were an absolute delight, even she was surprised that I enjoyed them so much! I feel truly blessed to have a mother, friend, philosopher and guide all in one. I discovered a friend in my mom, and that is perhaps the greatest return gift I shall take from this trip back home. It's amazing how I never bothered to see this side to her before, the same things that I love about her now, I would find annoying just a few months back! It is true, when something is taken away from you, you realize its true worth.

The thought of going back scares me. Even though I have a choice today, I choose to go back to that place, where my mom isn't there, that place which offers me challenges on a silver platter, no comfort. But I choose to make that, less comfortable choice, because I have faith.

Everything I dreamt of being as a little girl was in line with this. I want to be confident, independent. I want to be a person who seizes opportunities and doesn't run away from whats tough. This is one of those moments in life, when you know that the choice you take at this instant will make all the difference. It will define who you are.

I know what I stand for. I know what will be said about me in my obituary. They will say:

When the going gets tough, Natasha always, got going.

Zenyasi & I

06-09-2009

Dear Goondu, Independence is the best Gift of Love. Think.

Love Mitrananda.

I have been fortunate. Blessed perhaps. Zenyasi, as most know him, has been more than a teacher to me. A parent, a Guru, a friend, philosopher and guide. I have felt his presence in my life constantly and have grown up, holding his hand. With such love he has raised me, it is rare that one experiences such love in one’s lifetime.

The love of a Guru is purer than even that of a parent. Who could have imagined, and so I say not many experience such love, love in its completeness. With absolute selflessness he takes you under his care, helps you grow. Sometimes with the help of a stick he disciplines you, forces you to look within, to introspect, to transform, to reflect. At other times he looks at you with overwhelming affection and love, or holds your hand, or gives the warmest hug.

Like the Eagle that pushes its eaglets so that they may fly, fly high, the Guru, pushes the child so that he may truly soar the skies of freedom.

That which ties us down, can that be love at all?

My salutations to the one, who taught me to be dependent on no one.

My love to the one, who loves me the most.

My gratitude to the one, who makes me think.

To my Zenyasi.

Date with Mumbai

Day 3

So, this section of the blog titled "Date with Mumbai" shall begin with Day 3 simply because I have just about started comprehending where I am right now. Though most of you know it well, just as I thought I did, I am talking about Mumbai.

The movies give you this idea about the place and when you get here, its almost magical. You try to see things just as they show them in those bollywood masala flicks, the slums, the people, the trains, the rush etc. etc. Though all of it doesn't seem to be true, some of it might have some truth in it. I can't say for sure, as the Demystification of Mumbai continues.

Now, one would wonder, what's the big deal...why is this girl writing about Mumbai and all so enthusiastically, considering half the world stays in that city. While that is almost true, for me this is a huge change. I have never been away from home, except my 3 months in Chinmaya Vibhooti in Kolwan, which was still very protected and after all it was an ashram. And here I am, almost thrown into this whirlpool of a place, with its own rules, its own ways, its own culture.

The other reason for all the excitement around Mumbai is that it's Mumbai you know! The place where Shahrukh lives! The place where the Underworld rules...Bollywood rules...so many experiences are undergone by so many in this very city! There is this hysteria, this legend around this place, and however dumb it sounds, I find it pretty magical.

So lessons learnt on Day 3:

Distance: Mumbai is all about the distance. But to aid us there is the BRILLIANT public transport system. Love it! In Mumbai, travelling in cars is totally uncool. Trains are coolio.

Time: Here the evening begins at night and night doesn't really come at all, I think. People are in a hurry. There is movement everywhere, in the ladies compartment in a train, on the platform, in the auto, on the roads. Everyone is in a hurry to get somewhere. I just hope they know where they are heading. And for what.

Culture: This place has reinforced my understanding that a strong sense of culture is the foundation to a disciplined and balanced society. For, the people here are so considerate, I mean, considering the pace of the city, One would think people would be ready to walk all over each other, trying to win in the rat race. But it is not so. Atleast till now, my experiences here have shown a side of people I didn't think Big cities were capable of producing (rather preserving). The safety of women, is an effect of this one cause, which is a strong sense of culture.

That's all for now folks!

And this chapter of Date with Mumbai can be called:

"There is never nothing happening."

The Insignificance in Solitude

Staring at the plastered walls around me

I wonder how I got here.

From the very first day of this known life, I try to remember

Each choice I made, each decision.

Unaware of my power I went on, till I got to this.

Every thought brings with it a feeling,

Of happiness, pleasure, others of remorse and regret

Yet some power in me observes these objectively

It has no eyes, it feels nothing

It judges me not, just watches.

It sits there, uneffected, shining.

What are these thoughts, feelings and discomforts?

They donot bother me.

They pass, I remain a passerby, ever alert, yet uninvolved.

Ever independent, ever humble, I realizes its insignificance.

While I fade away, I remain.

The Purple Mist of winter sweet

Shining diamonds and shouting monkeys. How does one stop the craziness. How does one start to believe. When words lack sense and people lack sensitivity. How is one to believe.
When emotions run on a overdrive and people run astray. How is one to believe.
Does it every go away? When does one become complete? When does one start living? When do children find their way home?
In all this mayhem and madness, how is one to believe?
When life becomes a question and loneliness becomes the truth. How is one to believe.
The purple mist of winter is Dipped in chocolate, hanging on a flimsy screen of reality. Once blown over, what do you see? An empty house atop a lonely hill with windchimes singing a song so beautiful, you cannot hear. Stop and listen to the sound of nothingness.

To Just Be.

Why does it all have to be so 'unconscious'? And make sense only in retrospect everytime? Why can't I "see" my life changing? The "phases" of my life...Why can't we tell one phase from the other while we are in them? I guess that's why we need friends and generally, people, so that we have an outsider to tell us, "oh, it's just a phase.." or "awww...this is love!" or "don't worry, you WILL move on!" or "honey, there is something better in store for you..." Jeez! Are we just CONDITIONED to WAIT. Just wait. Wait for things to happen. Wait till you are old enough. Like Right now, I know what a kid I am. How scared I am. How "directionless" I am and how lazy I am. I see that for myself, and yet I don't see a way out. How does one GROW UP? Is there a ladder I can climb? *Looks at you pitifully!* I have never been in a hurry to grow up, really, never wanted to go to a disc when I was fourteen, never was in a hurry to have a boyfriend (debatable), never in a hurry to do "it" (still not) or all those things that kids are in a hurry to do. But today I sit here thinking, and my god, with so many "opportunities" from God, I still am such a kid. And here's the kiddish part, I dont want to take any responsibility for my actions. I don't want to take a call. I still want to be able to say at the end of the day, "hey, I did it because You, told me to..." This is NOT what I wanted to see myself as after three years of college. Bah.

Or maybe it's just "institutionalisation". There I go again. Blaming the system. Maybe it's just something that "happens", "unconsciously", as one steps out into the world. Really, am I so insignificant that things will just keep "happening" to me all my life while I "wait" for them to happen! Jeez Lewizzz (unfamiliar with this expression but seemed apt)!

No man. I refuse to let things happen to me. I am done living in such "unawareness". I refuse to believe I am made for that purpose. To just Be.

*Uuuuughhhh* Disgusting.