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Life Alight

Unfolding life's mysteries with poetry, photography & ramblings

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This Moment I live

In my chase of moments
Yet to come,
I drown fixing problems
I have yet to face.

This is my moment,
My only moment
To live;
I have lost:

Life.

-Khushbo
Lifealight Copyright @2016

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Oh Wise Tree

“For me, trees have always been the most penetrating preachers. I revere them when they live in tribes and families, in forests and groves. And even more I revere them when they stand alone. They are like lonely persons. Not like hermits who have stolen away out of some weakness, but like great, solitary men, like Beethoven and Nietzsche. In their highest boughs the world rustles, their roots rest in infinity; but they do not lose themselves there, they struggle with all the force of their lives for one thing only: to fulfill themselves according to their own laws, to build up their own form, to represent themselves. Nothing is holier, nothing is more exemplary than a beautiful, strong tree. When a tree is cut down and reveals its naked death-wound to the sun, one can read its whole history in the luminous, inscribed disk of its trunk: in the rings of its years, its scars, all the struggle, all the suffering, all the sickness, all the happiness and prosperity stand truly written, the narrow years and the luxurious years, the attacks withstood, the storms endured. And every young farmboy knows that the hardest and noblest wood has the narrowest rings, that high on the mountains and in continuing danger the most indestructible, the strongest, the ideal trees grow.

Trees are sanctuaries. Whoever knows how to speak to them, whoever knows how to listen to them, can learn the truth. They do not preach learning and precepts, they preach, undeterred by particulars, the ancient law of life.

A tree says: A kernel is hidden in me, a spark, a thought, I am life from eternal life. The attempt and the risk that the eternal mother took with me is unique, unique the form and veins of my skin, unique the smallest play of leaves in my branches and the smallest scar on my bark. I was made to form and reveal the eternal in my smallest special detail.

A tree says: My strength is trust. I know nothing about my fathers, I know nothing about the thousand children that every year spring out of me. I live out the secret of my seed to the very end, and I care for nothing else. I trust that God is in me. I trust that my labor is holy. Out of this trust I live.

When we are stricken and cannot bear our lives any longer, then a tree has something to say to us: Be still! Be still! Look at me! Life is not easy, life is not difficult. Those are childish thoughts. Let God speak within you, and your thoughts will grow silent. You are anxious because your path leads away from mother and home. But every step and every day lead you back again to the mother. Home is neither here nor there. Home is within you, or home is nowhere at all.

A longing to wander tears my heart when I hear trees rustling in the wind at evening. If one listens to them silently for a long time, this longing reveals its kernel, its meaning. It is not so much a matter of escaping from one’s suffering, though it may seem to be so. It is a longing for home, for a memory of the mother, for new metaphors for life. It leads home. Every path leads homeward, every step is birth, every step is death, every grave is mother.

So the tree rustles in the evening, when we stand uneasy before our own childish thoughts: Trees have long thoughts, long-breathing and restful, just as they have longer lives than ours. They are wiser than we are, as long as we do not listen to them. But when we have learned how to listen to trees, then the brevity and the quickness and the childlike hastiness of our thoughts achieve an incomparable joy. Whoever has learned how to listen to trees no longer wants to be a tree. He wants to be nothing except what he is. That is home. That is happiness.”

-Hermann Hesse, Baume. Betrachtungen und Gedichte

Ask My Story

Every passing person carries
A story woven intricately with
Emotions, moments never forgotten.
All connected together like a web.

The thoughts that run through
Every mind that walks past me.
I wonder at the people they miss,
The life they have lived.

Things they would stop to tell,
Faces animated with the true story
Behind the narrative of what happened.
If only I had the courage to ask.

By Khushbo

Copyright @2016 Lifealight

 

Waiting

Everyday seems I am reminded
Of the time, the minutes, the seconds passing
As the clock ticks, never stopping.

In a time where there are no worries,
No stops, no heartbreaks, no turns.
I would like to stop and breathe.

I would like to see hope come true,
I would like to see it all be worth it,
I would like for time to stop.

And not ask of me to worry
About the next moment,
The next day, the next month.

Waiting to live, just for today.
For me alone.

– Khushbo
Lifealight Copyright @2016

Dreams

Dreams. Dreaming big it seems is a modern day sin. I am an avid day dreamer or at least I used to be. It seems that all my day dreaming abilities have been renewed of late. I love going far and wide, doing the impossible and sometimes the craziest things, and catch myself smiling, “Thank God I did not actually do that!”

Some of us dare to dream big. I think that is where the danger lies. We need to trust ourselves and our ability to make magic in this world with those very dreams. What actually happens is, we second guess ourselves and hold a stronger belief in the roads too often taken. In essence we kill our own dreams if only to save them from the world. Almost as if a buried dream is safer then one out in the open for all to openly butcher. What if we do not succeed? How will we face ourselves and those that sought to “warn” us?

Then there are the few revolutionaries, leaders and philosophers that manage to keep it alive. I believe everyone in this world comes with an in-built package for absolute greatness because God does not make mistakes.  Then we are set free in the world as it consumes us and moulds us to the required specifications. At some point we start working so hard to fit in that we start erasing that in-built package, bit by bit until there is nothing left. Is it a survival instinct or just a ego boost seeking the appreciation of those around us?

It is often sad to see that a mere child has higher morals than most adults. We lose our creativity, our morals, and our dreams all in the pursuit to gain this perceived appearance of community. Which community are we really making such large sacrifices for? The same community that then gives us brackets to live within? Dividing God’s creation by race, religion and culture. I believe that these aspects of this world that were meant to make us stronger are what we have caused to veer us into the dangerous direction of stagnation and conformity. We have reached a point where following is so important that any direction outside our pre-set, over used and perhaps abused directions for career, marriage, and even happiness is simply wrong.

I have a soulful connection with everyone and anyone who has dealt with the murder of their hopes and dreams. I am guilty of this sin and I am guilty of conforming and passionately seeking the approval of a society that disposed of me at the drop of a hat for finally having the tenacity to say “no more”. I buried these dreams before they even had the chance to bloom, and now I find myself at a loss, I need them, I have to revive them. They seem to be long lost memories where only fragments seem to remain. I will find them. I will live them. I trust them. Start today, trust yourself and your higher in-built powers!

Dreams flow freely

When you come looking for sugar,
your bag will be examined
to see how much it can hold;
it will be filled accordingly.

~ Rumi ❤

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