Sticking blindly to a practice does not make us liberated. Skepticism creeps in. Doubts hover over the tranquility. Through the dark alley behind a gloomy tenement the days pass by. One hour of silence seems to be a wall which can never be scaled. And rest 23 hours are of no respite. Facing the mundane seems to be the toughest of the jobs.
Whenever in past I did manage to drive this fretfulness away by going under the coverlet of peripheral backing, I have found it coming back to me, invariably.
This time, I stick to only three rules.
‘Skeptic me’ looks for the windows.
But I am adamant. Yes. Quite blindly.
OBSERVE. I observe this agitation in my mind. It’s a time of doubts. But the consciousness of being agitated must not fade in. IT must not dissolve into the moments of blurred stream of accustomed anxiousness.
ACCEPT. I am accepting it. I am not at peace. In fact everything is pretty bad in shape. And I am responsible for creating this whole mess.
ZERO REACT. I won’t run away. I am not going to pull the blanket on me this time.