I am watching the children play. They are preoccupied with their love for life. Fears and doubts crease their foreheads for all of a few seconds. Moving on is their anthem.

I am stuck, deep in comparison and hurt. Can i complete this never ending need for love and attention? Can i honor, shower accolades on, award, praise, love, soothe my own self? Are we all not life’s longing for itself? Gibran said it was so. Why does life hate itself so?

Stay with it Hema. Cling to that maypole deep inside even as you spin around with misery. Depression and lonliness, those goons who also hounded my friend Elizabeth, sit by me and watch me with their beady eyes. I say to them “shove off”.

Sitting in Zen inside a Zendo, immersed in emptiness, i feel the universe stopping. I bow to it. Immediately i remember that i forgot to say goodbye to Zoya. Thoughts take me to far away places. I go back inside. Again there is peace, again there is not. Wow, exhausting this push and pull from within. I stop resisting.

The kids have created grenades out of Duplo lego. Their war zone is full of dialog, plans, schemes, plays, script, drama and energy. They are helping each other create. Scenes vivid and elaborate are enacted with gusto. They just do. They don’t brood. They just do. Four warriors living, dying, living, dying, again and again. They tell each other its your turn to die, your turn to say “over and out” and so on. The drama never ends. Just living it is enough.

Life is worth living again. I have created. I am.

I have much to do. Why do I forget my love? My path? My bliss? Why did i forget this calm? Ah yes i wanted recognition. Its ok. I recognize my worth, my art, my dreams, my place on this planet and in the larger scheme of things.

Staying with uneasiness and discomfort. Staying with not knowing what to do. Staying with the churning and ceaseless nausea. This piece of prose was to help me. Crumbs. I’m not much better but I’ve written and created and that has made all the difference.

The root of this misery is like steeped tea, dark but clear. The tea leaves settle down and pull me down to the bottom. I will rest with them, now.