Ruminations

To dream is to be, to foresee the possible, the potential. A dreamer perchance, a hopeless romantic perhaps. Dream and devour the world as if it’s your own canvas. Freely draw your brush against its landscape. You’ll be right sometimes, you’ll be wrong sometimes. Some of the time, you wouldn’t know if you’re right or wrong. You’ll just be yourself unabashedly reckoning with the triad of life, the universe and everything else; looking for truth.

Every brush stroke is a testament to your own will and capacity to live life as you believe it should be lived. To seek truth not amongst immediate effects, but in your heart. Sure, one brush stroke might go awry, another might not be so perfect. Never stop though, never. As long as your heart sings in true happiness, do it. For with good intentions the spirit is lightened, heightened and the world around you blossoms.

Attempt to make that perfect coagulation of acrylic. Try to make sense out of chaos, albeit a benevolent chaos that hands us the strings to our destiny in so many ways that we are spoilt for choice.

And in that choice lies the reason for us to fight the deafening, silencing calls of the immediate and the apparent. The key to a better soul lies not in the wall of sound and atrocious elements of modern day living. It lies in quiet contemplation that defeats our base nature and raises our capacity to become receptacles for the wisdom and the beauty of the universe.

• sufism
• writing