Passion…unbridled

“Winners wake up early”- when such headlines I read

I have a sinking feeling- there’s no way I can succeed

If that is indeed true, because the thought

Of waking up early makes me distraught

If I woke up early, I would wither away

I am certain, before I hit mid-day

Spend my afternoon in a foggy state

And not be able to stay up late

Thus losing my most productive time of the day

When I can work in solitude, in my quirky

way

The hours between nine p.m. and midnight

Are when I get all my ideas bright

To wake up early I would have to sleep earlier too

And that is something I am just not willing to do..

*

If I am forced out of my bed early

I try to charge myself on strong coffee

That gives me a boost of nervous energy

But affects my concentration negatively

Thus I doubt my performance would be up to the mark

If I (reluctantly) woke up with the lark..

*

I don’t wake up early and a winner I may not be

But I’m convinced I wouldn’t win by waking up early

So let me clock in enough hours of sleep

And my schedule of late nights and late mornings keep

I am searching desperately

All I want is to see

A silver lining to the cloud grey

That has hovered over me all day

I want a little something to redeem

This day which particularly trying does seem

I simply need one positive sign

To bring some peace to my overcharged mind

*

I am home after a grueling work day

My young child has already been swept away

To the land of dreams, he is fast asleep

He waited, but his eyes open he could not keep

I tiptoe near his bed, and in the night-light I see

His peaceful countenance, then he smiles dreamily..

*

I smile too, my heart fills with love

I have received a sign from above

He is my silver lining to every cloud grey

He brings succor to my soul every day..

What I did accomplish versus what I could have done

Keeps raising its unpleasant head, this question

If only I could have in my abilities believed

I could have taken more risks, much more achieved

Or even if I did not end up achieving much at all

I would have had a more storied life, more experiences to recall

But each step I took was measured and cautious

It became a habit permanent, and thus

I never ventured outside my zone of comfort

I did not want to fail, did not want to get hurt..

*

As I grow older, I wistfully contemplate

How I missed out in my over-cautious state

All the opportunities that I should have seized

Oh, my current self is so displeased….

I cannot go back in time, but I can try

To grab opportunities, though they are harder to come by

Given my “play it safe” reputation

But I am determined to make the best of my situation

*

I see myself regretting my past years

That I would carry regrets to my grave, I fear

So let me open my wings and embrace

Life as it comes, difficult situations let me face

I look for inspiration everywhere around me

I thrive on short bursts of creativity

That intercept the mundane work that I do

Things of beauty let me get through

Dull days, with unwavering routines

The mere sight of a sunset pristine

On my drive back home is often enough

To offset the rigors of a work-day tough

And inspire the aspiring poet in me

To arrange words in the form of poetry

Sometimes bright wildflowers bring a splash

Of color to my grey day, and I retrieve my stash

Of painting materials to create floral art

Which soothes my mind and warms my heart

If I hear foot-tapping music somewhere

I break into dance, without a care

I dance to the beats in my memory

Until reality breaks my reverie..

*

This in small aliquots I find

Inspiration for creativity to flourish in my mind

I seem to run, sprint or roll down hills

In frenzied attempts to fulfill

All the responsibilities that are mine

I make half-hearted attempts to streamline

All the tasks that I have to complete

I try to be organized, but cannot defeat

My inherent proclivity to be disorganized

After many years, I’ve finally realized

That through chaos I can find my way

While perfect organization, to my dismay

Makes me stumble, blunder, and fall

Leaves me incapable of doing much at all

When things are in order, I get stressed

That I would disrupt that order, I obsess

Over every step I take, unreasonably so

But when things are disorderly I go with the flow..

*

I like to explain things scientifically

According to the second law of thermodynamics, you see

The entropy of a system increases as time goes by

I shouldn’t question a law of nature, should I?

“If you can fill the unforgiving minute

With sixty seconds’ worth of distance run”

I read this poem long ago, and took these lines

To heart, to find my place under the sun

I needed to be industrious, fill each minute available to me

With 60 seconds’ worth of work performed diligently

Thus began my journey on the hamster wheel

Of never-ending “work”, I would always feel

Disappointed with myself if I did procrastinate

If I did not fill each minute, I felt inadequate

The message was reinforced by everyone around

You should use your time wisely- this advice seemed quite sound

*

I filled minute after minute with work but could not

Fill my cup with the wins I had thought

Would be mine if I worked industriously

I was stretched too thin, I could not see

That I was tiring myself out inexorably..

*

As I spiraled downwards each day

I knew I had to find a way-

To loosen up a little, waste minutes few

Spend some sixty seconds on leisure too

*

Kipling had for his readers sage advice

I tried to follow it, but it was unwise

To treat time as a pit that needed to be filled

With work, as if my life’s worth could be distilled

In what I did, minute after minute every day

My value did not lie in my industriousness anyway..

*

I can still accomplish quite a bit in a minute

When I do decide to put my mind to it

But I no longer try to fill each minute, it’s true

I take time to pause, let my mind wander too

“Stop the words now. Open the window in the center of your chest and let the spirits fly in and out.”  -Rumi

Let me stop listening to the buzz in my ears

Repetitively playing sounds from past years

Let me not over bygone moments ruminate

Let me clear past thoughts, start from a blank slate

Let me stop visualizing scenes from past days

Or replaying “what-if” scenarios in every possible way

Let me not keep tasting frustrations, bitter and old

Let past disappointments no longer unfold…

*

The old window in my heart is closed now

A new window in my chest I open to allow

Novel sounds, original thoughts, fresh tastes and visions new

To immerse my senses in the present is what I shall do

My senses were saturated with stimuli that were stagnant

Now that they are free, to explore the present…

Sometimes I wonder if the concept

Of not having a 9-to-5 job has been overstretched

Social media is full of true stories (or hyperbole)

Of people who were sinking deeper into rabbit holes

Of demanding jobs; facing burnout-

But from rooftops (literally) they shout

How they followed their passions and now

Their social media influencer lives allow

Them to earn six-figure incomes and maintain

Lifestyles that are glamorous without the pain

Of being stuck in a 9 to 5 corporate job that is boring

They are living the dream, their dreams are soaring

*

Is being confined to a traditional 9 to 5 job that bad?

Or is flexibility of work hours a passing fad?

While burnout is a real issue indeed

Not everyone in the corporate world feels the need

To give up a position that provides

A steady income, a sense of identity, besides

It create a structure to every day

You work certain hours, then you can play

A nomadic work-life has hours variable

The remuneration is high, but also unpredictable

The stability that a conventional work structure provides

Is a privilege coveted by millions worldwide..

Work can be also be fulfilling without

Being your passion or being fun throughout

*

Different strokes for different folks in the workplace

Some work 9-5 in an office, others in their own time and space!

Why is art so esoteric?

*

Occupying a pedestal high

Inscrutable to the untrained eye

Understood by an erudite minority

Expounded by self-appointed authorities

*

If any form of artistic expression

Is not beyond the comprehension

Of a lay person, if it can be appreciated

By anyone, its value is tremendously depreciated

After all, great art is too nuanced

To be understood at a glance..

*

I beg to differ, I think that great art

Is anything that touches the heart

If specialized training you require

So that a work of art you can admire

Then I would consider it less valuable

What is the purpose of art if it is mot relatable?

*

All artwork that is arcane and cryptic

Let it be left for discourse by critics

Let me appreciate the beauty

That in a work of art I see

Take a deep breath- you were told

As you watched your anxieties unfold

You focused on your breath, in and out

As you registered your inner voice shout

In anger and frustration, you let it ricochet

Inhaled and exhaled, watched your anxiety melt away..

*

Through breath after precious breath, life flows

You focus on each breath, deep and slow

Positive thoughts and energy you inhale

Let the negatives leave you as you exhale

Be mindful of your breathing and you

Discover the mind-body connection too

As you focus on your breath, you center your mind

In doing so an intrinsic calmness you find

*

In a fast paced world when rushed you feel

Take a deep breath, a moment of slowness steal…

At first I was climbing,

Up a rope I crept

Sometimes l slipped a bit

I was not adept

But the climb I continued

I stuck to it tenaciously

Because I wanted to reach

A spot high enough for me

So I could find my wings and fly

Into the vastness of the sky

*

I was never able to reach

The height that I desired

I am now stuck on a ledge

I cannot climb any higher

Suspended in mid-air

I am stuck without a rope

I cling to the ledge desperately

Sustained by impossible hope

*

I cannot fly away from here

Nor can I look down at all

But I cannot be stationary

So sideways I begin to crawl

Until I see hanging down

Before my eyes, a rope

A lifeline has been handed to me

Therefore with renewed hope

I grab it with all my strength

And pull myself up vigorously-

Now I am climbing again

The climb to fulfill my destiny…

Wasn’t the grass greener on the other side?

Or was it my brain that to me had lied

Or was my vision altered in such a way

That distant colors appeared brighter that day

Whatever it was, I certainly believed

That the truth was what my eyes had perceived

And the greener shade of grass across the divide

Made me jealous and curious, then made me decide

To seek that greener pasture, its lure

Helped me proceed when I was unsure

*

On the other side now I have been

For quite some time, the grass I have seen

On this side and that, and now my lens

Distorts my view- the green appears more intense

On the side I had moved from years ago

I was naïve then, I did not really know

That there is an optical illusion here

The grass on the other side greener does appear

To all of us, but that is rarely true

I’ve seen both sides, and I can tell you

Each side has an almost equal share

Of good and bad, so it’s futile to care

About which side we end up on

Let us tend to our own green lawns