Sometimes,
the hardest advice we can follow is the one that we graciously offer to others
– because, as illogical as this may sound, “the
grass is always greener on the other side.”
We
unconsciously, (or subconsciously), disregard common sense when infatuation
blindfolds us and leads us to walk on a thread of uncertainties and
incommodities. The feeling of pleasure
that we obtain from daydreaming traps us in a made-up world of fantasies and
desires that sterilizes our ability to be critical and realistic. We become paranoid, self-conscious, selfish,
and discontented with solitude. Yet, the
constant sighs and displeasures of sleeplessness are not enough to make us
realize that the best thing to do is often the one option that our hopes and
desires refuses to accept as reality.
For
some of us, the idealist mentality – which we mistake as “being optimistic” – impedes
us from seeing through the opaqueness of a situation and we underestimate the origin
of questions such as: Why long for someone who does not want to be
longed for? Why suffer in silence while
waiting for an opportunity that will never make its way to your doorstep? Why make excuses for behaviours that are so
obviously drastic and unjust? Why put up
with someone who disregards your feelings for the illusion that they will come
around one day? Most of us have gone
through these thought processes at one point or another and have been unable to
see the clarity of the answers, (which are as obvious in their solutions as are
the gambles of the heart). Perhaps it is
our human nature to want to suffer unnecessarily. Perhaps it is our hopeless romanticism, or some form of desperate measure to avoid
loneliness, which makes it easier for us to over-analyse the suddenness of
situations. Whatever the scenario may
be, it is most always certain that those who have always worn their heart on
their sleeve, (or those who have become quite deeply invested in their dreams),
are the usual victims of their own mental wars.
But
to offer sound advice to oneself is something that only the truly disciplined
can achieve. We fall prey to our own
discourse and our hearts stop beating the moment they learn to think – and by
this point, the mind has learned to over-think.
Trying to stand in front of a mirror and reverse the code of
impermeability of thoughts in order to believe that the impossible is merely
preposterous is like playing a game of chess in solitude. Perhaps this is why we agree to seek advice
from external voices – because our inner voices are the echoes of emotional
issues that stem from disappointments and the innate desire to make sense of
the senseless.
We
offer peaceful reasoning to those we love because we do not want to watch them suffer
– and, sometimes, our ability to articulate these phrases are put together by
the sounds of experience, which have given us a permit to understand the colour
of their lament. By the end of the
supposed lecture, their gratitude is far less rewarding than the honest fact
that we were able to speak and let go of whatever we kept bottled inside. However, as perfect as the advice may be, it
is sometimes impossible to tame it as an aid in recreating our own reason –
meaning, we sometimes cannot separate our own fantasy from reality, and
listening to a record of our own voice is not as welcoming as our will to want
to engage in a moment of sadness, (if only to remember what it is to be happy).
We
all want to find that happiness that keeps us feeling complete, and yet we all
fear taking a step towards it at some point, (in youth and in age). Is it the past that immobilizes us, or the uncertainty
of the unavoidable future? Whatever the
case, the answers are always there, right in front of our adaptive logic – it
is only a matter of opening our eyes, and, (if only for a moment), learn to
detoxify ourselves, of heart and of mind.
 |
| "Your worst battle is between what you know and what you feel." |
