Sunday, July 20, 2008
Picking Me Up
Since my return, I have tried focusing on my physical and spiritual well being.
A few exciting things seem to be brewing on the career front. It is likely that I might be able to work for myself in the near future. The thought of returning to corporate life and working for others still has a way of gripping my heart and sending palpitations of the unpleasant kind. It's a kind of phobia I have had as an employee for not being in control of my own destiny.
I am quite surprised to find that I haven't been working for nearly two months now. The initial days of discomfort I felt for having such luxurious freedom has now been dispelled and insiduously been transformed into a quiet sense of self-satisfaction. I am finally making peace with myself of not measuring my own capabilities with how well I could manage the expectations of others or worry about other people's problems that I have absolutely little interest in. I have always been an individualistic person, a bit larger- than- life but the feeling of being strait-jacketed in my day-to-day movements at work has mellowed me quite a bit and I found my personality diminishing slowly each day. I was losing that magic touch.
I need to recover my passion. Perhaps this is the dawn of salvation for my wretched soul- I need to start thinking of my own ambitions and transforming it into a reality . For once, I am freed from that sense of restlessness, dissatisfaction and anxiety I have experienced one too often in my life as a working adult since moving to Sydney from Sad Town.
So yeah, I have been indulging in myself, mostly alone since most of my friends are hard at work in the day. I have been going for my weekly, sometimes twice weekly body massages, flesh eating fish massages, Chinese accupuncture and back massages, reflexology, facials and beauty treatments. Then there are my regular morning or evening jogging to the beach, after-dinner strolls with my parents and working for myself from my father's office daily. Life has been set up with quite a routine.
My heart remains weak. Yes, I am still stirred and tormented by the attachment of my emotions. Suffering, I am- still hankering after my hey days with the Old Boy. My emotions going free willy. My heart still skips a bit when I see him- I still let him have a hold over me despite what little he feels for me. My nights in bed gets unbearable when I lay in bed, a thousand thoughts flying across my head, my heart in knots and making futile sense on the intensity of my feelings for him.
I realised that the number of massages or facials I have had to attempt rejuvenating and relaxing my being have been proved useless. Ironically, I lie on the beauty bed with a swarm of thoughts darting in and out of my head. I even try meditating or blanking out during these sessions, yielding minimal results before switching to friendly attempts at engaging my masseuse or beauticians to distract my mind.
In less than two weeks, I will head off for a more than month-long pilgrammage to a monastery where I hope to achieve inner peace, understand my suffering, yes that Dukka and hopefully dispel it. Then I would take in the sights of the mystic and culturally rich country before trekking to the region's most revered mountain tracks. Maybe I might then be operation-ready to kick off and launch my dream once I re-boot and re-stablise my core that has long gone haywire.
*****
For my pilgrammage, the Old Boy gave me his digital watch that he wore to run a marathon before he turned 40 a few years ago- so that I could keep time and could spare myself from ruining my diamond dial Longines watch given by DL which I wear faithfully each day, even when I jog. Oh, he also bought me the little metal notepad with the 60s pin-up girl (and a matching metal business card case) to jot down any notes of inspiration for my grand journey.
I thought I was supposed to go solo on this spiritual journey. Cut the world out and start afresh.
But the Old Boy continues to linger near.
Picking me up but ironically, bringing me down.
My dukka. Will my soul ever find peace if I don't set myself down and do the inevitable?
Still , I allow my heart to rule my actions.
Since my return, I have tried focusing on my physical and spiritual well being.
A few exciting things seem to be brewing on the career front. It is likely that I might be able to work for myself in the near future. The thought of returning to corporate life and working for others still has a way of gripping my heart and sending palpitations of the unpleasant kind. It's a kind of phobia I have had as an employee for not being in control of my own destiny.
I am quite surprised to find that I haven't been working for nearly two months now. The initial days of discomfort I felt for having such luxurious freedom has now been dispelled and insiduously been transformed into a quiet sense of self-satisfaction. I am finally making peace with myself of not measuring my own capabilities with how well I could manage the expectations of others or worry about other people's problems that I have absolutely little interest in. I have always been an individualistic person, a bit larger- than- life but the feeling of being strait-jacketed in my day-to-day movements at work has mellowed me quite a bit and I found my personality diminishing slowly each day. I was losing that magic touch.
I need to recover my passion. Perhaps this is the dawn of salvation for my wretched soul- I need to start thinking of my own ambitions and transforming it into a reality . For once, I am freed from that sense of restlessness, dissatisfaction and anxiety I have experienced one too often in my life as a working adult since moving to Sydney from Sad Town.
So yeah, I have been indulging in myself, mostly alone since most of my friends are hard at work in the day. I have been going for my weekly, sometimes twice weekly body massages, flesh eating fish massages, Chinese accupuncture and back massages, reflexology, facials and beauty treatments. Then there are my regular morning or evening jogging to the beach, after-dinner strolls with my parents and working for myself from my father's office daily. Life has been set up with quite a routine.
My heart remains weak. Yes, I am still stirred and tormented by the attachment of my emotions. Suffering, I am- still hankering after my hey days with the Old Boy. My emotions going free willy. My heart still skips a bit when I see him- I still let him have a hold over me despite what little he feels for me. My nights in bed gets unbearable when I lay in bed, a thousand thoughts flying across my head, my heart in knots and making futile sense on the intensity of my feelings for him.
I realised that the number of massages or facials I have had to attempt rejuvenating and relaxing my being have been proved useless. Ironically, I lie on the beauty bed with a swarm of thoughts darting in and out of my head. I even try meditating or blanking out during these sessions, yielding minimal results before switching to friendly attempts at engaging my masseuse or beauticians to distract my mind.
In less than two weeks, I will head off for a more than month-long pilgrammage to a monastery where I hope to achieve inner peace, understand my suffering, yes that Dukka and hopefully dispel it. Then I would take in the sights of the mystic and culturally rich country before trekking to the region's most revered mountain tracks. Maybe I might then be operation-ready to kick off and launch my dream once I re-boot and re-stablise my core that has long gone haywire.
*****
For my pilgrammage, the Old Boy gave me his digital watch that he wore to run a marathon before he turned 40 a few years ago- so that I could keep time and could spare myself from ruining my diamond dial Longines watch given by DL which I wear faithfully each day, even when I jog. Oh, he also bought me the little metal notepad with the 60s pin-up girl (and a matching metal business card case) to jot down any notes of inspiration for my grand journey.
I thought I was supposed to go solo on this spiritual journey. Cut the world out and start afresh.
But the Old Boy continues to linger near.
Picking me up but ironically, bringing me down.
My dukka. Will my soul ever find peace if I don't set myself down and do the inevitable?
Still , I allow my heart to rule my actions.
