When I write morning pages in the morning, to absorb all my thoughts into a piece of paper, I often find myself empty.
I feel nothing.
Thoughts hide somewhere.
But I know they aren’t gone. Probably just shy. As I sit here to write down my immediate thoughts, I look around and see the lights on the Christmas tree shining peacefully. It reminds me of the lighted evening lamps that appear on the frontage of the houses during the many train journeys I had had in my college years from Trivandrum to Kannur.
Those train journeys gave me a temporary window into those houses and the lives that happened there. For a fleeting second, I was a part of some stranger’s life. I liked thinking about what might have happened in a house like that, the people who lived there, their names, etc.
Memories are funny. How they occupy a corner of our mind and stay there without making a sound or movement and pop out at the oddest of times demanding our attention, like this one.
Sometimes they are like a quiet classmate we had- no one takes notice of her when she comes in and occupies her seat. But she was there all along without drawing attention to her.
My thoughts are fusing with the many memories that are apparently swimming just a layer below somewhere. This meditative writing is calling them back to the surface.
Like a quiet acquaintance, would it just find its assigned seat and stay quiet or would it surface again at the oddest of the moments, I wonder.
Written for #SoulfulSunday, an exercise to nourish our creative side, by listening to a 10 minute guided meditation followed by 10 minutes of writing, formulated by Esha and supported by Shilpa and yours truly on Sunday at 7 pm IST.
You are welcome to join this meditative writing session!