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“Am I alone on this?” is the sort of question that was multi-paraphrased into several forms of sentences, channelled into different mediums, and fired back repeatedly to yourself for the last few years, precisely because you couldn’t answer it with any accuracy.

You used to cannot sleep for some time after dawn. But now, it’s a routine that drives you crazy and shatters a part of your identity. It was unthinkable how the environment could change your crux — your self-proclaimed crux.

Chanting the words of love was allergic to you, or you were allergic to it. Yet now, you are holding to the practice almost as if it is your only lifeline. What could have happened, dear?

Your decision-making process is quite simple, yet people perceive it as complicated. You must have been having a grand scheme! That sounds cool and all, but it was a thing of the past, spurred by some random conversations. Currently, you’re not planning anything bombastic, really.

Upon hearing your “apology” for not being well-put-together and cool enough, almost everyone says, “Ah, you’ve changed! You’ve changed.”

And then you fiercely reply, “Of course, I changed! I’m changing! Every single minute, literally, a strand of my hair falls to the ground, leaving my cloudy head. Oh well, sometimes the “grounds” are my clothes or my shoulder.

My ground is what I wear in a day. The pieces of clothing define which points I should start my pursuits in life. What I’ve been telling myself for the last many years is that I should start with modesty and humility. To what kind of degree? Depends on how many slaps-of-reality and pats-in-the-back you end the previous day with.”

You see? That derailed chain of thoughts… you’ve definitely changed. Well, everyone changes after some time, but your trajectory of change is very unique to you. Only you. You are alone in this change. And if your changes are pointing toward a question, there’s only you to answer it.

Why do I keep reminding you like this?

I know. Eventually, you want to be told, again and again, that even though you are alone, you ought not to feel lonely. Lonely is for those who forget the presence of the Lord, you’d say.

half moon

And so you read.

You read to immerse yourself in different worlds, getting outside of your head. Your mind is accompanied by other’s. But reading can only take you so far. You can understand, you can empathize — only in your comfy chair.

And so you write.

Your words depart from their owner, reaching different heads. Though you believe almost no one might understand the message, you will keep writing anyway. Not for others to understand you, but for understanding yourself from that sleek, old desk.

And so you act.

To wrap it all up. To validate. To test your ground. To exercise compassion. To change the state of affairs, which often ends up changing you. It’s what you and others do that shapes you. While your Lord is the Absolute Curator, you can still be a proposer.

Pay attention! Pay attention to the silent dance of your self-realization. In solitude, you find grace, alone but not in misery’s embrace. Propose your change through the gold-plated supplications, then watch closely the progress of your idiosyncrasy, at its own pace.

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