We, each of us, are the complete center of our own world. The entire universe—an extension of ourselves.
Right from birth, we start connecting with people… and moving away from some, bit by bit. And it is hard to imagine their life going on without us. So many relationships… close bonds that become such an essential part of our life. And then we meet them as strangers—like the bond just melted away. Like the memories hold a stranger within.
How can we swear by anything or anyone then? Even ourselves? For in that moment, it is impossible to imagine a life otherwise.
We are here to form relations with no one but ourselves. The rest of the world is just here to extend a hand, teach a lesson, walk a few steps, exchange certain nuances left over from the past. But none of us has built that bond with the self. We are still looking for outsiders to support, understand, and love— even accept our existence in their eyes. And we feel empty. Lonely. Dissatisfied. For none of it can be found outside.
The sense veils have to fall—to distinctively realize the connection between body and soul. The body is not the “I” we refer to. And if it is not, then who am I?
Everyone says the guru manifests at the right moment. I yearn for that moment. For within this seeking are disheartening realizations that darken… unfathomable… questions that desperately need to be answered.
How to walk further and further into the darkness without a lamp, without the way… fearing invisible claws grabbing at chunks of my bleeding soul?
And I look around in vain—for that one step of faith I know I hold within.
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