Saturday, March 22, 2008

My me....

There's a big mountainous area between Ruse and Svishtov. I was passing through that area last week during my business trip. It was late in the afternoon, and the sun was about to set, ready to shift its glory to another part of the world. There was almost no cars passing by, it was really empty. The road was going up and down, curving left and right, which makes the scene even more beautiful, making the sun looks like hiding behind the mountains once in a while.

I always like to be in the middle of a huge open space, alone. It reminds me of how big is this world we're living in. It reminds me that I'm a tiny living dot out of so many billion other living dots in this planet....in this universe. Human beings, animals, plants. I'm one of them, influencing and being influenced by others through out my life, consciously or unconsciously. I'm a part of this world's mystery, which also makes me part of its answer.

....................

Every picture is a collection of dots and colors. And to someone who's able to appreciate beauty, every dot matters, every dot is significant. Every color is important, every saturation means different things to the picture.

In the picture of the universe, everything and everyone is one of the dots that completes the picture, that makes the picture what it is. They all have their own specific color. And as similar as it might seem, there's no identical color in the picture of the universe. It is the most colorful picture.

In the last 3 months, I haven't been able to see my own color. I thought I have lost it. I thought it had faded away. I felt there's something erasing my color, and I was afraid it will erase my significance, my contribution in the beautiful picture of this universe.

Last week, I was almost convinced that I was completely erased. I was blurred and unable to see my self. Powerless and unvisioned, I felt it as the weakest moment I have ever encountered throughout my entire life.

The remaining thing I can do left was to ask the question, can someone really lost their colors and just....not being there anymore?
Because even the deads, their colors I still see.

And it was several days ago, in the middle of green trees I was finally told.
It was nature's job, and it was true that I was being erased, but not completely!
Nature was erasing, leaving only the tiniest part of me....because it wants me to be redrawn.

....................

To our eyes and imagination, the universe looks as beautiful as it can be, and maybe because it is. But nature has its own way of seeing it.

To nature, the picture of universe is not perfect yet. Nature knows how, when, and where to make it better....And in the process, sometimes there's a need to erase some small parts so it can start redrawing.

To nature, our universe can still be more beautiful. And like perfection, beauty knows no limits.

....................

I am now here, still writing....still in the process of my perfection....for life is always a process of perfection.

I am my own process. And in my process I found me.
I am my freedom.
I am my peace.
I am my hope.
I am my honesty.
I am my beauty.
I am my imagination.
I am my sincerity.
I am my gratefulness.
I am my purity.
I am my happiness.
I am my gratitude.
I am my me.

I am not back yet, because I will never be....I am new.


with smile, gratitude, and sincerity,
ali

PS: special thanks to the first "you" for being THE process....and both of "you"s for being there during the times. And oh, also to the tiny creature for being there on your strangest time to be there.

Sunday, March 09, 2008

18:54 in the past...

...I was standing in the crowded bus on my way back from the office. I was standing in the middle of people that are most probably tired and desperately want to get some rest.

The bus stops every once in a while, and some people would go off, and some smiley new people would come in. And in less than a minute, these new people would loose their smile, blending with the other people's frustration in the bus. It was after 5-10 minutes I finally woke up from my "oh man, why does it have to be so crowded!" attitude.

I looked around and saw their faces. I looked around, and think if these people are really "in the bus" or not. Whether they realize that they are alive, and they're right now in the bus, standing, sitting, driving...

I looked around, and it seems like everyone is caught up somewhere in their past or future. They didn't seem to realize the place between the past and the future, they didn't seem to realize that they're in the present...So I asked my self, I made a request to me to always try to be aware about my present.

I took out my pen and paper, didn't care how crowded that bus was, and tried to write down all of these thoughts before I forgot. Again I was reminded of this beauty.

I wonder if the people there realize how significant they are. That their presence is significant to their lives, and the lives of others. That they're not just a part from the world's process and routines. Instead, they are the ones that can make this world significant, not the other way around. Everyone is important.

But then it just happened and connects everything together.

A woman stand up from her seat, and I saw the 2 girls standing close to that chair was looking forward to take over the seat. One of them moved faster and took over the seat when the other was probably still thinking when to move. Without saying anything, this girl just looked the other girl taking the seat, and disappointment was so clear in her face. She probably thinks that she deserves to get that seat after a long and tiring day. And I think the sitting girl probably thought the same, that she deserves that seat more than the others.

Yeah, everyone is important, but our importance doesn't make us perfect.

And yes, a lot of people know that they're not perfect, but they're not acting like they know it. Because if we know that we're not perfect, and we still love ourselves with this imperfection, why can't we stop being selfish by wanting other people to be perfect? We can't we accept and love them too for not being perfect?

I'm not saying that the girl who took the seat was bad or good, right or wrong. I don't know which girl deserved that seat more, I'm not a judge or a jury. But these whole scenes just reminded me of so many important things, and I'm grateful for that.

I didn't feel tired in that bus. Infact, I was glad that the bus was so full, I was glad that I couldn't get a seat, I was glad I decided to write it down.

I'm glad I was reminded... and by writing it down here, I hope this is not something to remember and then forget.

after quite some time I haven't write anything...with smile,
ali