The Long Letter

I wrote myself a letter. An honest one.

You were sitting by a window watching the rainfall, listening to Bon Iver. You were touched by the blanket of pathos that the music weaved around you, and you tugged at it and let it envelope you completely. From the deepest of the deep, came a thought. Am I happy? What followed was a response too dark to handle.

“No”. The rain observed your tears in silence.

An honest conversation. You’re so adept at passing advice, telling others how to live their lives, cautioning them when they deviate from the trodden path and urging them to happiness. Seldom do you have the gut or fortitude to do this for yourself. Face your own demons; forgive yourself for your failures and mistakes. It’s always about “other people”. Sometimes the blame, sometimes the focus. More so, you exhibit fear. You’re scared to want, to dream, to desire and think the unthinkable for yourself.

You chose to have this conversation and for this, I’ll be eternally grateful. Now everything is out in the open. These puzzle pieces. These magical puzzle pieces. You fit them once to create a picture. The beauty is - you can pull them apart, observe them and fit them again to craft a different picture. Magic! Believe in it. Believe me.

A reflection. You are sometimes bold and fearless. Somewhere in your mind you know you are accomplished and different from everyone. Your thoughts are unique and special. Sometimes you feel like someone should make a movie about your life. And then you laugh at the arrogance of it all and brush it away thinking everyone is special and everyone is unique. We have that in common, it’s all one.

If someone told you at the beginning of this year, that you would be virtually immobile and handicapped for some of it, you would have said – “I don’t have the time for this! ;)”. And yet, it happened. You had a goal and vision but more importantly, you always had the “never say die” attitude. And yet you did, in a way. It came at the strangest time. You were walking down a staircase thinking a million thoughts and as you put your foot down with three steps to go, your hip broke. You stood on the step, your body shaking in shock and on the verge of blacking out. Someone came in the nick of time to rescue you from a state of absolute collapse. The rest is history.

Each of those three remaining steps became monumental. You forgave them, all three of them. You forgave yourself. If you were a self-help guru, you would have constructed “The 3 pillars to a better life”. “The 3 step process to curing insanity” (my personal favorite). “The 3 noble truths to the real you”. But let’s refrain. Talk less, understand and do more.

It took something painful to remind you of how numb you’ve become. There is no greater pain than feeling nothing. Now, if you felt joy no matter what the circumstance, probably Buddha might have been proud of you. Your struggles the past few months have been endless. The questions, the reactions, the outbursts and the solitude of it all. My favorite ones - the “Why me’s?” I absolutely LOVE the why me questions. I love how they beautifully shift the focus away from the real issues that need to be resolved. The mind provides all the raw materials to support the manufacture of “Why me’s”. They are so thoughtless and mundane requiring minimal effort, so the cost of producing a single why me is miniscule taking into context the destruction it’s able to cause. Quite a nuclear bomb quality, really. Thank you for closing down this factory. Congratulations. You’re one step closer to peace.

A conclusion. This hardship wasn’t really one of high quality to be honest. There will be several others, far worse. So don’t get too dramatic about your accomplishment of surviving it. Your real struggles –physical, mental and emotional begin now. Your three “steps” are in fact three mountains to climb. Learn yourself, to be tough, to be still and balanced. Learn what makes you happy. Learn that the heart is a good place to reside. But more than anything - learn in humility, to be inspired by your own story.