ConcentricCircle's spot

Take five minutes in the morning before you get caught up in the demands of the day—demands on your time, attention and energy—and ask this question: “ Do I have at least one thing* that I am really looking forward to today ?”.   The answer doesn’t have to be anything big or significant. It can be something as simple as your workout routine (walking, cycling, gym, swimming), dropping your child off at school, a food item you’re excited to eat, a new playlist you’re going to listen to, a new idea you’re implementing at work, meeting friends later in the day, or reading a book.   It can be anything as long as it has the potential to become a habit*— if it isn’t already one.   If your answer is a “yes”, give thanks to the universe that you have something to look forward to today. If your answer is “no”, it’s fine—give thanks nevertheless, because you have the luxury of asking that question and the ability to turn that “no” to a “yes” tomorrow.   If what you are looking...

 Day 1- Satkhol Last night there was a crackling wood fire in the common room they called the Library. Until then, I had always seen a fireplace as an ornamental or architectural feature, at best used to add some quaint charm to a room.   I never dreamed I would experience it as a necessity . The cold mountain air, the wine, the high wooden ceilings with the huge skylight, the two walls fully lined with books, the plush and warm sofas, the custom made dinner, and the hearth at the centre - these were things I had only read about.   But now I am writing about them, having experienced it myself.   The warm glow of the fire, enhanced by the orange light, the stillness and quietness - we didn’t even hear any birds or crickets outside last night, because it was a freezing   -5 degree C with a slight drizzle - is a memory that I won’t forget, and it will give me comfort for a long time to come. These are small pleasures, trinkets perhaps, memories one collects to put ...

I first heard about Vipassana from a friend in my running group. Naturally, I was intrigued—meditation that’s supposed to be life-changing? Sign me up! But also… don’t. I wasn’t sure I was ready for something that transformative. So I did what any rational person would: procrastinated and made up excuses—“No time,” “Family won’t approve,” “Ten days is a long time to sit still without snacks.” You know, the usual. But as my retirement loomed large and I stared into the wide, unstructured ocean of free time stretching ahead of me, I realized I needed something solid to anchor myself. Spiritually inclined and now finally out of excuses, I convinced myself—and more importantly, my family—that this was the perfect time to do the 10-day Vipassana course. Surprisingly, it’s not easy to get in. They actually spoke to me 2-3 times before I was “approved.” Clearly, I didn’t sound zen enough. I didn’t know exactly what to expect, but the idea of being completely disconnected from the world for 1...

I search for myself in prose’s long embrace, in poetry’s ornate, winding lace— chasing a fleeting glimpse of me, of what I was, of what I could be. No. Either I am a memory long forgotten, or a thought never born. Shadows drift through my grasp, always black, never white— lurking in the silence between words, where reason slips into madness, where echoes fade before they form. For every stirring leaf, a breeze must be, but was it the cause, or just the reply? I could never tell. The sharp edge of focus, sliced by a dissolving thought— so often, so quick, I no longer know what came first, what was last. Waves and circles of time ripple outward, spiraling from a vanishing center. They move so long, so far, I have lost their beginning, I will never find their end. On the train of life, I traveled, stopping at stations of intoxication— lingering too long, forgetting too much, until I lost sight of the journey’s end.

A lot of the bloggers I watch (and more from who they watch) are being book tagged. I envy all those people who are book tagged, as they are supposedly, the "intellectual" types with thick reading glasses and lots of absent-mindedness. Well, so what if I am not tagged - i will list my favorite 5 anyway. On second (and third and fifth) thoughts- no, i will not. For those of you who are guessing - Oh she doesn't have anything interesting to share - let me tell you, you are so right! As a child, inspired by the Bajaj bulbs and tubes ad, "Jab main chota ladka tha, badi shararath kartha tha, meri chori pakdi jaathi" where the kid reads books under the covers in his bed, I would attempt to read with a torchlight. Appa came up on me, one fine night and said "You shouldn't be reading with a torch light and with the book so close to your eyes. It will ruin your eyesight." And he would switch on the tube light (don't remember if it was Bajaj) and let me...