Think of life in terms of geometrical shapes.Square-shaped life. Triangular-shaped life. Circular-shaped life. Rectangular-shaped life.Now, just like in a toddler's toy, try to fit each shape in its corresponding hole.Square-shaped hole.Triangular-shaped hole.Circular-shaped hole.Rectangular-shaped hole.The learning process is very demanding, exhausting and intimidating.Very frustrating at times, cause it's based on trial and failure.But also very rewarding when finally mastered, when each of our many lives perfectly fits in its matching hole.
When each of our feelings is handled with the healthy amount of care and obsession, not more, not less.
When each of our words is directed towards its rightful owner.
When each of our efforts is channeled into a meaningful endeavor.
And i learned that whatever shape of life i'm having to deal with, the secret to happiness and composure lies in locating the right hole for it.
Only then life would really come to place.
However, easier said than done.Sometimes it all gets overwhelming.The shapes are all mingled up.The hole always seems a tad too big, a tad too small, a tad too long, a tad too short, a tad too round, or a tad too sharp around the edges.
So confusion arises.
And we walk vain distances in our wide holes.And we limp in our tight ones.And we become the misfits.Sometimes a person walks into our life, and touches us in unprecedented manners.Wakes up dormant instincts.Resurrects long gone emotions.Then he walks away.And leaves a person-shaped void inside us.Very empty and hollow.Very sad.Very sorry.A heart-shaped hole, that had been a house for many misfits over the years, but seemingly only him have succeeded in making a home out of it.In fear of being a love-cliché, i'll refrain from stating that only this person would be able to fill up this hole, if ever again.To give me this sense of wholeness and fulfillment again, this cozy warmth of a home.Even if it sure feels this way now, in fear of slipping into the pit-less crevice of self-pity and obsession, i'll refrain from making that statement, that seems to be undeniably evident now, yet, in my optimistic approach to calamity, was never credible.
"Optimistic approach?" i hear you say.
Yes.
Right now i'm in the process of locating the appropriate sorrow-shaped hole.
Labels: Tales Of The Butterfly
