"I have climbed the highest mountains
I have run through the fields
Only to be with you
I have run I have crawled
I have scaled these city walls
But I still haven't found what I've been looking for"
I have done all I can, could, would, ought, should.... but I still haven't found what I'm looking for? What is it that I'm looking for? That elusive thing of darkness that inevitably escapes me time and yet again?
I have walked many paths. I have travesed several lanes. I have gone different ways. And yet there smoulders a fire in me to carry on, to keep walking, to move forward, as though at a fixed time in some distant, and yet invisible future there is an unknown thing waiting to be discovered by me. And in that 'thing' lies the secret of untold happiness and bliss, in it is the key to all knowledge, in there lays the nirvana, the heaven, the ultimate answer to all. Do we all feel this way? Do we as individuals seek a destination, a goal, a place, a thing in the future and all our lives keep striving to get on the continum of time moving ahead to get closer to our aim. I have yet to meet a person - young or old - who believes he his where he ought to be, and isn't in a rush to get to some other place. I haven't yet come across anyone who is happy and fully content with what is as opposed to what could be.
Life we know is usually akined to a journey. And journeys are normally aligned with a destination. The idea that time's arrow is moving ahead in straight line is eternal and we have bought into this body and soul. We think of ourselves as travellers set out to reach a better place than where we start from, that is presumed, has to be, for it is only then the journey would make any sense; if at all. If the place to which we are setting off to is no good then the question arises of why travel to it?
There are several stories round the theme of 'finding one's purpose' in life. The most famous contemprory example is of the novella The AALCHEMIST by Paulo Cohelo. In this story the protaganist sets on a journey, being the simple soul that he is, and roams large and distant lands, meets many people, some silly and some very wise. There are lessons to be learned only if he is ready to learn and heed them. But most answers are hidden, there are no ready-made explanations in the world around us to understand ourselves. There are only signs and indications and it is up to us to pick up the right signs and interpret them wisely to gain prespective and wisdom. In the end the young man, now lot older, comes back to the very place he started from gaining the knowledge that the very 'treasure' he was seeking all this time was right where he began from. Was then the travails and the journey futile? Not at all for it is through that very experiences he gains the 'eye' to see what 'treasure' is and where it lies. Now treasure here can mean anything to anybody. For some it could be an actual treasure chest full of gold and diamonds and for others it could be wisdom and understanding. That the author leaves upto the reader to decide.
The Moroccan thought - which I discovered in a book, that everyone has her own story, meaning there is a story, usually a parable which hides a meaning, meant specifically for that person, and the person must look for his or her story to understand his purpose or destination in life - I found to be a tempting an idea, how interesting it is to have one's own fable which gives a special message.
I want to find my story. I want to find untold wisdom. I want to know things I don't know I don't know. I want to find the hidden purpose of my life. Is there a purpose of my life? Should there be a purpose? Why as individuals are we so preoccupied with meaning? why is it that we want to feel we are here for something important and significant beyond what is obvious in our mundane and ordinary lives?
I think it is the wish to be something larger than a certain number of years in this world which we eventually amount to once we die. It is to make ourselves higher than the usual and everyday. At least that is it for me....
I have run through the fields
Only to be with you
I have run I have crawled
I have scaled these city walls
But I still haven't found what I've been looking for"
I have done all I can, could, would, ought, should.... but I still haven't found what I'm looking for? What is it that I'm looking for? That elusive thing of darkness that inevitably escapes me time and yet again?
I have walked many paths. I have travesed several lanes. I have gone different ways. And yet there smoulders a fire in me to carry on, to keep walking, to move forward, as though at a fixed time in some distant, and yet invisible future there is an unknown thing waiting to be discovered by me. And in that 'thing' lies the secret of untold happiness and bliss, in it is the key to all knowledge, in there lays the nirvana, the heaven, the ultimate answer to all. Do we all feel this way? Do we as individuals seek a destination, a goal, a place, a thing in the future and all our lives keep striving to get on the continum of time moving ahead to get closer to our aim. I have yet to meet a person - young or old - who believes he his where he ought to be, and isn't in a rush to get to some other place. I haven't yet come across anyone who is happy and fully content with what is as opposed to what could be.
Life we know is usually akined to a journey. And journeys are normally aligned with a destination. The idea that time's arrow is moving ahead in straight line is eternal and we have bought into this body and soul. We think of ourselves as travellers set out to reach a better place than where we start from, that is presumed, has to be, for it is only then the journey would make any sense; if at all. If the place to which we are setting off to is no good then the question arises of why travel to it?
There are several stories round the theme of 'finding one's purpose' in life. The most famous contemprory example is of the novella The AALCHEMIST by Paulo Cohelo. In this story the protaganist sets on a journey, being the simple soul that he is, and roams large and distant lands, meets many people, some silly and some very wise. There are lessons to be learned only if he is ready to learn and heed them. But most answers are hidden, there are no ready-made explanations in the world around us to understand ourselves. There are only signs and indications and it is up to us to pick up the right signs and interpret them wisely to gain prespective and wisdom. In the end the young man, now lot older, comes back to the very place he started from gaining the knowledge that the very 'treasure' he was seeking all this time was right where he began from. Was then the travails and the journey futile? Not at all for it is through that very experiences he gains the 'eye' to see what 'treasure' is and where it lies. Now treasure here can mean anything to anybody. For some it could be an actual treasure chest full of gold and diamonds and for others it could be wisdom and understanding. That the author leaves upto the reader to decide.
The Moroccan thought - which I discovered in a book, that everyone has her own story, meaning there is a story, usually a parable which hides a meaning, meant specifically for that person, and the person must look for his or her story to understand his purpose or destination in life - I found to be a tempting an idea, how interesting it is to have one's own fable which gives a special message.
I want to find my story. I want to find untold wisdom. I want to know things I don't know I don't know. I want to find the hidden purpose of my life. Is there a purpose of my life? Should there be a purpose? Why as individuals are we so preoccupied with meaning? why is it that we want to feel we are here for something important and significant beyond what is obvious in our mundane and ordinary lives?
I think it is the wish to be something larger than a certain number of years in this world which we eventually amount to once we die. It is to make ourselves higher than the usual and everyday. At least that is it for me....
Comments
Post a Comment