life without Pho

March 27, 2011 § Leave a comment

I like to count days. A day is such a natural measurement of time. It helps me make sense of weeks, and months…. and sometimes years.

Lately, I’ve stopped being able to count.

I can’t tell you the last day I ate Pho. It wasn’t so long ago, perhaps a month now -but it wasn’t real.

No. The last real Pho has slipped away into too many days to count… faraway from this reality, this reality of the present.

I no longer wake up leisurely, hop on my motorbike, head to the nearest Pho shop to meditate on my soup.

No. I wake up with a pressure on my chest that doesn’t allow leisure. If I hop on my motorbike I  gear up with gloves and a jacket, and slug myself somewhere. The nearest Pho shop is at least 40mins away -and worst of all, I can barely stand to close my eyes and hear my thoughts, let alone meditate.

How did I get to this? This mess of pain, bitterness and grief? How did life form this moment, these moments… These moments that are filled mostly with a pain in my heart, and a feeling of loss that underlies everything. How did I come to expect nothing but the negative from the human race.

Love- what is love but  a human weakness, a selfish act of fulfilling the missing bits, a dependency & shroud clouding the truth.

How can this be life?

I woke up today and saw my whole year unfold in my mind.

Wake up. Go to the gym. Go to work. Study.

Wake up. Go to the gym. Go to work. Study.

Wake up. Go to the gym. Go to work. Study.

I saw the routine happen every day for the rest of the year. Filled in with moments of useless grasping for validation, or meaning. Useless moments of pursuing ‘love.’ Useless moments of distraction from the m.u.d.a.n.e existence of life in this place.

I watch others pursue others hoping to find something. It would appear people believe love is the only way out. I suppose that’s true, but they are lead astray, lead to believe somebody else’s love is the way out, when it all comes down to how much of their own love can sustain themselves.

We’re all units. Individual beings. We shouldn’t need others. We shouldn’t rely on others. We should be sustainable. We should be able to love ourselves before we place that burden on another. We should make peace with that part of us we hate. We should be focusing on the development of ourselves. We should be putting all that energy we waste on others into our own souls.

But it doesn’t work that way does it?

When life throws a punch, the best cure is another’s love. A friend, a lover. We pull out and draw others into our tangled web, hoping that maybe they will take the pain away. And they do, to an extent. But then one day, we’re left alone, with just ourselves and all that pain, it never went away, it was just anesthetized, and a bottomless abyss of all the moments we couldn’t quite deal with is opened up and we are swallowed by the ocean of pain and grief within.

And we are left alone, dealing with ourselves. Because nobody can jump into that abyss for us. Nobody can get quite that far down.

& that’s not acceptable. To end up that way. When you wake up everyday questioning the point of it all and hoping you find a reason for doing it.

So you end up silenced. In the unit you started with. Not a developed and capable unit -a failing and crashing unit. Because you never did take that time to fill yourself up. Never did find a way to love that abyss that exists somewhere in the depths of your being. You spent your time searching for validation outside yourself. Chasing people. Becoming overwhelmed when affection was shown towards you. Loosing yourself in others.

So here I find myself. Wanting to be my own unit. Wanting to be able to have inner validation -yet like most human beings, finding myself craving love from outer sources -subsequently ‘beating myself up’ when I have such cravings. Unsuccessful in my own view of life, and unsuccessful in the m.u.n.d.a.n.e life. Unsuccessful in a higher way of living.

Unsuccessful -falling into the abyss below.

& a bowl of Pho is too far away to soothe the torn up pieces. Too far away to give a moment of soft clarity. Too many days away to meditate upon.

& there you have it -Life without Pho is unsuccessful.

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