Wabi-Sabi

Dearest Em,

Like a silver lining in the darkest of clouds, a happiness holds my hands when I'm tearing apart. Things are going haywire. Strange and may not make sense to you, but I am still happy, with the loads of heaviness in my heart, feeling all clogged and crippled. My hands shake, my feet feel like jelly when I stand. When yesterday returns and casts its shadows upon today, and life goes down, high to low like a waterfall, when I feel the wheels of time moving rearwards and every moment dragging me back, holding my feet tight, I somehow try to feel happy. I hug my pillow tight. With the fear of losing everything again which I lost in the past, I still bury another seed into the soil and water it, everyday, knowing that the last one I planted died too, as a tiny sapling. I don't progress and it's cold, but staring at the sunshine feels warm. If I pause this fleeting moment into a tableau frozen in time- there are birds twittering in the eaves, the flowers in the porcelain pot at the window look so full of life; there is beauty. The light around seems as if every miniscule grain of it is blessed with a tint of glory, at the same time when untold, unknown fears are looming around ghostly. As if underneath the hard strata of ice on the lake as dazzling glass, there's liquid water flowing; some new secret buried under the depths of the earth. There are times when I don't understand life at all. In the midst of hollowness and incomprehension, a gravityless vacuum, there's still some sound which I can hear, and decipher its script; a substance of joy, of pure joy which I feel in my heart, as a rainbow hidden in the sky. I'm devastated yet elated, a euphoria blended into dysphoria, a charismatic conundrum all together. So is the chorography of the universe, a pinch of wonder dusted everywhere. If I walk down memory lanes, I see happy and sad timelines going parallel. I'm not stuck in between, I don't think I have to fathom everything in life, I'm yet happy. When I throw a pebble into a river, how deep does it sink? What winds do drive the feathers I found lying on my balcony? What language do the constellations adorning the night possess? I don't want to seek answers. I have it all together for whatever the truth is, but I don't want to know. Yes, I'm happy, I'm free. There's some light melody playing downstairs, faint numbers hitting my eardrums; I think I've heard this song before.

With love,

Just yourself