He said lately he had something on his mind. To be self-aware, he said, one had to live mindfully. Mindfulness, he said, was as important as showering or eating. What it simply meant was to immerse oneself in every action or thought one engaged in throughout the day by being completely present. It was like counting prayer beads – fingers noting the texture, the shape of every bead in the string. Only then we would be able to analyse our thoughts and actions. For instance, if just once, his wife would say, “I acted out of line there. I said things I shouldn’t have.” Or, “I did this because of this old wound I carry,” things would have been so different between them. But she would never do this, partly due to her pride and partly due to lack of self-awareness. Our minds, he said, are a complex labyrinth of roads. Some roads, we may not wish to venture upon, while some, we may feel are worth deep diving into. In the end, it was up to the person to decide the distance he or she could go on the journey, how much to explore, and how much to leave untouched. But the question that gave him sleepless nights was how far could families be relied upon to teach the concept to the next generation to ensure more compassionate, well-adjusted individuals. He said while he grappled with these questions, he also struggled with loving people in his life just the way they were, with their lack of self-awareness and a sense of accountability. It compelled him to summon patience and compassion from the depths of his being, something he was running out of.
Vanilla Hues 