I don’t even know how to begin. I just finished reading an article from bizmag about DH’s best friend’s son, winning hackathons, getting internships, telling Apple what to do. I am supposed to feel glad for him, but I am sitting here with a droopy face, lump in my throat. Bhagavan is right, when you focus right on it, there’s nothing, but let go of that focus, and the swirling cacophony of why not me takes over. What did I do/not do, why was I not good enough for this blessing? You can avoid facebook so as to not consume your daily share of envy poison, but you’d have to be a recluse to avoid this hemlock throughout your life. Earlier this evening, I was at the temple – the brothers were singing, the older one’s voice is becoming better and better, and their vidwat is expanding by leaps and bounds. The younger one is accepted into stanford too. Honestly, how much is a woman supposed to take?! The mother said he had many other east coast options. Virakti sirippu. Yep, same throat constriction, whirling sadness, bewilderment. After the boys finished, another girl. She also sang beautifully. I’m sitting next to dd and I went, Pattu! She pitched a fit. Her teacher was sitting next to us. And I was ready to jump ship, but it’s not the teacher who makes a difference, it’s the student. Sob! Then the younger brother picks up the veena and blows us away again. Sankari neeve was beautiful. The boys are going to be performing in music academy. Can this day be over, please?! Oh, and the mom wants me to come to the graduation party for her son. Really? why not give me a whip and get it over with?
I want to wail – I’m surrounded by excellence, stuck in mediocrity. Maybe that was the lesson of the morning – I saw this mother at MMC. She’d brought her family with her autistic son. She was so firm and yet, so supportive of him. Babaji asked the boy if he gets teased by his cousins in India. He said no. She added, he’s pampered there. He’s always special. Another parent came, with another autistic boy. He had so many behaviours – the itchy nose, the flexing fingers, the lack of eye contact. The dad was so loving towards him. Now, don’t they have the right to ask, why me?
Another thing that keeps popping up when I go into the why not me? This is a vasana. This idiot desire is going to bring me another life. Couple that with am I ever going to feel happiness for others’ achievements and you have a perfect triad. envy, guilt, worry.
Here’s the thing – All this self flagellation does not stand up to any introspection. I was wailing to DH and he tried logic on me – be content with what you have, cannot anyone be better than you. I told him I already know those answers, but it almost feels like I want to wallow in this pain. Am I certifiable?
BFFU gave me this piece of advice – write down the things you are grateful for. So here goes: DH, for sure. DD, for showing me what it feels like to be adored and loved. Babaji, my true north.
My Reality 