Tuesday, August 20, 2013

Easier Said than Done…

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."

No comments:

Post a Comment