Recently, I have been thinking of how hysterical I used to turn however little an injustice I came across. Almost comical, this blinding rage had damaged others' faiths in me more than built confidence, apart from the sleepless nights it entails. But those days are well gone: I've forgotten the last occurrence of such episodes. Come the credits possible: mellowing age, classical music or poetry-writing therapy (if there were even such things).
Mellowing Age...
...makes you see the commonplace things as they are: commonplace. In a nutshell, the more things you see, the more commonplace things become. Everything becomes as light and vulnerable as dust. You realised also that it's a big world out there, and you are only just one dreamy ant (does ant dream?) too small a life to make a difference. No, that is not defeatism; just realism. And that doesn't mean I will stand by the side and do nothing; I am just doing things which are within my capability as effective as I can to change the world as I see fit.
Classical Music...
...calms the mood to slow the pace of impulsive rage before rational thought. No, I don't read a single musical note, but listen I learn to, again and again breaking down structure, digging deep within. Concentration it enhances; patience it coaxes.
Poetry-writing...
...exercises the emotional bit to appreciate, if not, beautify every little thing. Open your poet's "eyes" to capture magical, special moments the humdrum of life buries like heavy bricks on shoulders, in the net of your words.
Running...
...the high I feel after a run is actually a result of a chain reaction in the body that boasts happiness and is a natural relaxant.
Then again, perhaps I am just too busy and absorbed with the other aspects of my life to be angry with anything.
No comments:
Post a Comment