It is the wee
hours of morning and lying in bed I am thinking that sometimes it would be refreshing
to wake up without needing to pass through the test of solving a crossword
puzzle to figure out how to live through the day.
It is not a
matter of just living though a day on an autopilot but living in such a way that
at the end when light in the sky is fading, and I am sitting alone and the silence
of evenings starts to feel like moments of being caught in a twilight zone, I
can look back and say that it was a day well lived.
Instead, here
I am half-awake thinking about the tiresome prospect of solving a crossword
puzzle hoping that if I complete, magically a door to a room would open where I
would find the correct recipe on how to live through a day to my satisfaction.
And that is not the only issue that
I grapple with when the day begins. There is also the dilemma of not quite knowing
how to reconcile the start and the end of a day with the cognizance of
mortality, while trying to find some meaning in between.
Is there a way that one could live
through the sequence of days and still be at ease with mortality? What could possibly
be good about living through the days and realizing that afterwards there are fewer
left to go?
And what is the meaning of living anyway?
I am not even sure if those are the
right words that express an emotion I am trying to gel. Perhaps, what I am
trying to ask, and trying to understand is that is it even possible for us to
reconcile the passing of a day with the finiteness of (our) existence. How can the
two stand side by side, pretend to be friends and not leave us utterly
confused?
Is there a magical cure that can be
internalized (and not be redoubted or questioned or revisited) and will make me
feel at peace again.
But let me get back to the beginning
of my day.
Even if I don’t quite know how to live
a day and reconcile it with mortality, I think I do know about the measure that
can be used to judge if my day was well spent or not. The measure is this - at
the end of the day if I feel that if my engagements are connected with what I value
that will be a day well spent. That will be a day I would not mind living again.
And perhaps, in spending a day well lived
also lies the key to coming to peace with mortality. After feeling that the day
was well spent, and I am serene and peaceful, I may feel a moment of
connectedness with the universe. In that connectedness, perhaps, I can
transcend my boundaries and hope to reconcile the eternal tension between the
inevitability of the passage of time and of my mortality.
Perhaps one day I will find the elusive
recipe and from then on I can wake up in the morning and there will not be
crossword puzzles waiting to be solved.
One day, I will just get up, and
without thinking, live.
Ciao.
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