Monday, 23 November 2015

Pockets of wisdom

I'm always looking for new insights on how to live better. I seek to enrich myself with things like TED Talks, vibrant music, and I seek out progressive people who love creativity.

It pleases me to receive feedback that I've become more openminded than I used to be in the past. To quote a long-time friend, I used to be "the most judgemental person" that she knew. I think things started to work differently in my mind when I was introduced to Buddhist theory. It was all about finding acceptance (of yourself and others) deep within - realising that which was already within you, instead of learning something radically new. I started to genuinely embrace my contradictions and mental differences, and I found that, not only could I function like this, I was functioning on a much more satisfying level. It's hard to explain the specific elements of Buddhist theory, but it had to do with giving up perfectionism, giving up thinking of being 'sharp' as a good thing (I see sharp as a synonym for judgemental here), and moving towards a love of all things and people. I remember reading about how even a knife was alive - the pressed metal was constantly interacting with the outside world, and was always in motion, even when ostensibly still. I also loved to expand my sense of sentient beings to insects and other animals. I avoid stepping on grass now, because I don't want to trample on another living being.

The parts of Buddhism I do have trouble with (and the biggest reason I don't identify as a Buddhist atheist when prompted) are the essentialism. It can be found even in the most basic instructions, such as 'just be'. I can work around it, but my postmodern inclinations prevent me from resonating with notions such as 'oneness' to the extent that it becomes my overriding philosophy. I like to think of myself as an eclectic collector of wisdoms from all over the place.

I can't really claim to be wise, because I engage in many self-destructive habits, but I aspire to fill my world with as many of these wisdoms as possible. A pocket here, a pocket there, and suddenly my garment is swimming with them. I am perfectly imperfect, and I find myself worthy of love. 

Wednesday, 18 November 2015


My voice breaks over the already existing stimuli
Fighting to sound fresh
Like it's breaking up the silence
Like for everyone else

I know I'm not alone
But no one ever talks about it
I get overloaded by my soundscape
A self-perpetuating palette
And since I overdose on the music
Relentlessly skipping from one ditty to the next
I can't keep up with my need for novelty
And I hate the songs that I love best