Meditation
Meditation
So today was a day of physical activity. Did a bit of swimming in the morning followed by tennis in the afternoon with CW bro. In between our quest and training to play at Wimbledon, we had numerous water-breaks. Call it lousy stamina or exhaustion from immense exertion. Anyway, between one of those breaks where I sat there smoking, we had a little conversation about everything. When Taurus boy meets his Sagittarian counterpart, the conversation can only revolve around two things; the first being money making scheme (Taurus pragmatism combined with Jupiter’s good fortune and idealism) and the second being words of mutual help. (We take different stands on sex, love and women)
It seems the focus of our conversation was on the latter, but it turned out to be degenerative.
dOm: You know, you know (emphasis on ‘you know’ for rhetoric effect, typically Sagittarian)…
CW: (the Bull is still patiently smiling)…yar…
dOm: Sometimes I wonder about the meaning of our existence. (Pauses for dramatic effect such that the next orgasmic statement would ensure greater impact)…It is like, we are born to die. The moment a baby is born, he/she is actually awaiting death. He will die some day.
CW: (Still absorbing the intensity of pessimism in the above remark)…aiyoh! Why you so pessimistic?
After tennis:
CW: (Looking at a young but skilful and pretty lass playing tennis) Wah, she is damn good.
dOm: It doesn’t matter how good you are at tennis because one day, you will still die. (As-a-matter-of-factly) It doesn’t matter how much wealth you have accumulated because in the end you will still die. (Repeating the crux of his previous conversation) We are born to die.
CW: Huh? Then you might as well die now? It is exactly because one day we will die that’s why we should give it our best.
dOm: Haha…
It isn’t so often that I am bogged down by such negativity. But perhaps when the dog barks and wakes me from a night of precious sleep when my mind should be put to better use producing alpha-beta frequencies, I start thinking. I think about the meaningless paper chase (referring here to both degrees and monetary assets), I think about the truth behind the words we say, I think about the value of our life. I think about the way I think. Perhaps, that is the beginning of misery.
It would be an ironic over-statement to say that I have become a Nihilist, completely not believing in anything anymore. In so far as having thoughts about Birth as a beginning to the long wait for Death, it should be fair to say that I do believe in this process of Life itself. Not to mention, believing that nothing is worth believing is in itself a belief.
I am still haunted about the truth in saying that everybody was born to die. Perhaps Florence Nightingale was born to improve the appalling state of military hospitals. Perhaps Hitler was born to instil fear and cause a massive war. Perhaps Sir Stanford Raffles was born to develop a series of port colonies for Britain. Perhaps I was born to receive an education in Economics, then get married, then have kids, then lead a routine but happy life thereafter. But the ultimatum here is that nobody can escape the clutches of Death which inevitably transforms our earthly existence back into ashes and dust.
If, for a few moments, I can cast aside the beginnings of Birth and ends of Death, and start to examine the process of Life as a means instead, would that diminish the pessimism? Would that reaffirm my personal doctrine of striving for what I ever wanted?
No doubt, I give my best shot within my own expectations with everything I do. Death haunts not because I fear it. Yet it troubles because it throws every single moment of living off balance. It perpetuates in questions aimed towards finding a meaning for my existence as myself. My strive for an excellence and the things I wanted would cease to hold any purpose, wouldn’t it?
But I am, after all, an Economics student. The fundamentals of utility and satisfaction still grants great importance, which hence explains why I should not and cannot stop going after my current ambitions. Yet it so happens that I chanced upon Philosophy and had exposure to intriguing Literary works of Self-Discovery. I cannot deny nor defy the truth of an empty world as the essence of my existence.
Hmmm…the multi-facets of this dilemma begin to surface when all I’ve tried to do is probe into it with single-mindedness of thought. I try to take myself out of the box and think…I am not a person who lives my Life by a single maxim. It would be too stifling and boring. But the truth which I thought would provide an absolute freedom has actually robbed me of the freedom itself. And the internal struggle continues…
No. No. No. Enough is enough. It would be better to stop thinking and start living. Who cares about the end when I am not even in the middle. Who cares about meaning when there was none to speak of in the first place? Who cares about the beginning when I did not have the authority to choose it? Who cares about questions when there is no necessity for answers? Who cares about Economics, Philosophy or Literature when our Earth teaches us everything we wished to learn? Who cares about Astrology when it cannot explain fully the dynamics of inter-personal relationships?
Perhaps the dog was born to wake me up with it incessant barking. But it will die too, when I find my infamous Bowie knife. And perhaps, the conversation with CW bro was not all that degenerative. At least, now I’m back at doing my tutorial, thinking about my routine but happy life thereafter.
So today was a day of physical activity. Did a bit of swimming in the morning followed by tennis in the afternoon with CW bro. In between our quest and training to play at Wimbledon, we had numerous water-breaks. Call it lousy stamina or exhaustion from immense exertion. Anyway, between one of those breaks where I sat there smoking, we had a little conversation about everything. When Taurus boy meets his Sagittarian counterpart, the conversation can only revolve around two things; the first being money making scheme (Taurus pragmatism combined with Jupiter’s good fortune and idealism) and the second being words of mutual help. (We take different stands on sex, love and women)
It seems the focus of our conversation was on the latter, but it turned out to be degenerative.
dOm: You know, you know (emphasis on ‘you know’ for rhetoric effect, typically Sagittarian)…
CW: (the Bull is still patiently smiling)…yar…
dOm: Sometimes I wonder about the meaning of our existence. (Pauses for dramatic effect such that the next orgasmic statement would ensure greater impact)…It is like, we are born to die. The moment a baby is born, he/she is actually awaiting death. He will die some day.
CW: (Still absorbing the intensity of pessimism in the above remark)…aiyoh! Why you so pessimistic?
After tennis:
CW: (Looking at a young but skilful and pretty lass playing tennis) Wah, she is damn good.
dOm: It doesn’t matter how good you are at tennis because one day, you will still die. (As-a-matter-of-factly) It doesn’t matter how much wealth you have accumulated because in the end you will still die. (Repeating the crux of his previous conversation) We are born to die.
CW: Huh? Then you might as well die now? It is exactly because one day we will die that’s why we should give it our best.
dOm: Haha…
It isn’t so often that I am bogged down by such negativity. But perhaps when the dog barks and wakes me from a night of precious sleep when my mind should be put to better use producing alpha-beta frequencies, I start thinking. I think about the meaningless paper chase (referring here to both degrees and monetary assets), I think about the truth behind the words we say, I think about the value of our life. I think about the way I think. Perhaps, that is the beginning of misery.
It would be an ironic over-statement to say that I have become a Nihilist, completely not believing in anything anymore. In so far as having thoughts about Birth as a beginning to the long wait for Death, it should be fair to say that I do believe in this process of Life itself. Not to mention, believing that nothing is worth believing is in itself a belief.
I am still haunted about the truth in saying that everybody was born to die. Perhaps Florence Nightingale was born to improve the appalling state of military hospitals. Perhaps Hitler was born to instil fear and cause a massive war. Perhaps Sir Stanford Raffles was born to develop a series of port colonies for Britain. Perhaps I was born to receive an education in Economics, then get married, then have kids, then lead a routine but happy life thereafter. But the ultimatum here is that nobody can escape the clutches of Death which inevitably transforms our earthly existence back into ashes and dust.
If, for a few moments, I can cast aside the beginnings of Birth and ends of Death, and start to examine the process of Life as a means instead, would that diminish the pessimism? Would that reaffirm my personal doctrine of striving for what I ever wanted?
No doubt, I give my best shot within my own expectations with everything I do. Death haunts not because I fear it. Yet it troubles because it throws every single moment of living off balance. It perpetuates in questions aimed towards finding a meaning for my existence as myself. My strive for an excellence and the things I wanted would cease to hold any purpose, wouldn’t it?
But I am, after all, an Economics student. The fundamentals of utility and satisfaction still grants great importance, which hence explains why I should not and cannot stop going after my current ambitions. Yet it so happens that I chanced upon Philosophy and had exposure to intriguing Literary works of Self-Discovery. I cannot deny nor defy the truth of an empty world as the essence of my existence.
Hmmm…the multi-facets of this dilemma begin to surface when all I’ve tried to do is probe into it with single-mindedness of thought. I try to take myself out of the box and think…I am not a person who lives my Life by a single maxim. It would be too stifling and boring. But the truth which I thought would provide an absolute freedom has actually robbed me of the freedom itself. And the internal struggle continues…
No. No. No. Enough is enough. It would be better to stop thinking and start living. Who cares about the end when I am not even in the middle. Who cares about meaning when there was none to speak of in the first place? Who cares about the beginning when I did not have the authority to choose it? Who cares about questions when there is no necessity for answers? Who cares about Economics, Philosophy or Literature when our Earth teaches us everything we wished to learn? Who cares about Astrology when it cannot explain fully the dynamics of inter-personal relationships?
Perhaps the dog was born to wake me up with it incessant barking. But it will die too, when I find my infamous Bowie knife. And perhaps, the conversation with CW bro was not all that degenerative. At least, now I’m back at doing my tutorial, thinking about my routine but happy life thereafter.
posted by sUmmEr heAt at 7:07 AM
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