Posted in Christian, Life, Personal Musings, poetry, Random Thoughts

Setting the Clock Right

Before closing for the weekend, there was a final briefing to plan the schedule for the following week. With a quick glance at the clock, the briefing had started. With a quick glance at the clock, the briefing had started. After the set of instructions said and a slew of ideas discussed, the hands of the clock hadn’t progressed. Or in other words, the clock on the wall was dead.

Each one of us have our own internal clocks, ranging from the physical, mental and the spiritual type. While the former may get it’s due share through workout sessions, balance of the diet scales and taking the stress free zone; it is the latter that at times, needs a push. The human nature needs to maintain it’s innate balance by engaging the emotional, mental and spiritual aspect. When those clocks aren’t wound properly they may fail to function in synchronous with the remaining aspects of human life, creating a chaos within. Each sphere of our life needs help to function properly. By constant prayer, faith and belief in His Word, there would be help to restart our clock when it ceases to function properly. For everything goes as per His Time.

“And, behold, I am with thee, and will keep thee in all places whither thou goest, and will bring thee again into this land; for I will not leave thee, until I have done that which I have spoken to thee of.” (Genesis 28:15)

A Boy and His Watchmaker

This watch my father did on me bestow,
A golden one it is, but ’twill not go,
Unless it be at an uncertainty:
But as good none as one to tell a lie.
When ’tis high day my hand will stand at nine;
I think there’s no man’s watch so bad as mine.
Sometimes ’tis sullen, ’twill not go at all,
And yet ’twas never broke nor had a fall.

Watchmaker.

Your watch, though it be good, through want of skill
May fail to do according to your will.
Suppose the balance, wheels, and springs be good,
And all things else, unless you understood
To manage it, as watches ought to be,
Your watch will still be at uncertainty.
Come, tell me, do you keep it from the dust,
Yea, wind it also duly up you must?
Take heed, too, that you do not strain the spring;
You must be circumspect in every thing,
Or else your watch, were it as good again,
Would not with time and tide you entertain.

Comparison.

This boy an emblem is of a convert,
His watch of the work of grace within his heart,
The watchmaker is Jesus Christ our Lord,
His counsel, the directions of his Word;
Then convert, if thy heart be out of frame,
Of this watchmaker learn to mend the same.
Do not lay ope’ thy heart to worldly dust,
Nor let thy graces over-grow with rust,
Be oft’ renewed in the’ spirit of thy mind,
Or else uncertain thou thy watch wilt find.
-John Bunyan

Posted in Life, Personal Musings, poetry, Random Thoughts

Myriad Shades of Nature

“I think that to one in sympathy with nature, each season, in turn, seems the loveliest.” Mark Twain

An unexpected fill in for an outstation workshop had resulted in the journey to the city of my high school days, one of my Alma maters. Landing at the airport, with the cold winds and temperatures dropping down fast, the journey had caught me unawares especially as the winter winds had long left my residence towards the first month of the year. Acclimatizing to the sudden change makes one realize the manifold faces of nature.

“In Ohio seasons are theatrical. Each one enters like a prima donna, convinced its performance is the reason the world has people in it.” Toni Morrison

Like the sudden change of the winds, so does the emotions and complexity of those moments. Experiences in life bring forth the faces of emotions from within. From the quiet feelings of contentment to blooming happiness as the uneasiness, anger and fury at difficult situations, life takes one on a myriad of emotions similar to the roller coaster ride of nature. One needs all the bad to feel the beauty of the good. Like the pristine winter white can echo the contentment as well as loneliness, so does the fledgling spring echo the new life in the bleak canvas as well the blistering heat of summer which bring out the joy of outdoors to the prequel of the rains of autumns cold but leave a touch of colour when there. One needs them all to feel complete. For contentment doesn’t come when we have the best of the best, but learn to appreciate the present in the midst of the worst.

The Human Seasons

Four Seasons fill the measure of the year;
There are four seasons in the mind of man:
He has his lusty Spring, when fancy clear
Takes in all beauty with an easy span:
He has his Summer, when luxuriously
Spring’s honied cud of youthful thought he loves
To ruminate, and by such dreaming high
Is nearest unto heaven: quiet coves
His soul has in its Autumn, when his wings
He furleth close; contented so to look
On mists in idleness–to let fair things
Pass by unheeded as a threshold brook.
He has his Winter too of pale misfeature,
Or else he would forego his mortal nature.

John Keats

Posted in Family and Society, Life, Personal Musings, poetry, Reflections

On the Canvas

“Real generosity towards the future lies in giving all to the present.” Albert Camus (Notebooks 1935-1942)

One of the best things about entertaining a group of toddlers, is their spontaneity. Following their flow of energy, children are more keen on dwelling in the “now”. What about the adult “nows”? More or less, they do happen more in the professional sphere than the personal zone. Eventually some “now” never happens, neither does “the later”.

As each of us “adult” reserve their time and energy for the tomorrow, those proposed plans mayn’t happen. Time has it’s own flow. At times the tomorrows may work out, at times it mayn’t be so. If it was done at the “now” of then, then maybe it would be have happened or done only. Time has and always will be contrary. Sometimes as the toddlers say “let’s play tent” or “play with us” maybe some of the most precious memories made as one unwinds from work than catching up with “the telly”.

“It’s being here now that’s important. There’s no past and there’s no future. Time is a very misleading thing. All there is ever, is the now. We can gain experience from the past, but we can’t relive it; and we can hope for the future, but we don’t know if there is one.” George Harrison

Time has a beginning and ending, but those moments in between are what fills up the blank canvas. It may be filled by phases of dark hues, spots of brightness scattered in the dark template or hues of varying colours depending on own choice. As one decides on how the space on the canvas needs to be made so for the future days, take care that the spaces of now don’t go void.

Hymn to Time

Time says “Let there be”
every moment and instantly
there is space and the radiance
of each bright galaxy.

And eyes beholding radiance.
And the gnats’ flickering dance.
And the seas’ expanse.
And death, and chance.

Time makes room
for going and coming home
and in time’s womb
begins all ending.

Time is being and being
time, it is all one thing,
the shining, the seeing,
the dark abounding.

Ursula K. Le Guin (1929-2018)
(From Late in the Day: Poems 2010-2014 (PM Press, 2015). Copyright © 2015 by Ursula K. Le Guin.).

Posted in Daily, Family and Society, poetry, Reflections

Series of the “Little”…

“Great things are not done by impulse, but by a series of small things brought together.” George Eliot

After the long two hour commute was dragged to three hours by being held up in the traffic, the mental list of “things to do” kept on going longer than the usual. Consequently while walking into home after doing the daily grocery shopping, instead of the expected mess in the kitchen, it was a pleasant surprise to witness the orderliness at the domestic front. With my “better half” in charge, the kids had instructed me to put my feet and to enjoy the hot steaming cup of joe. Though eventually the domestic front had to be tackled, the few minutes of silence and solitude improved the frame of mind.

“The small things of life were often so much bigger than the great things . . . the trivial pleasure like cooking, one’s home, little poems especially sad ones, solitary walks, funny things seen and overheard.” Barbara Pym

One never realizes the importance of the little events of the day that stay etched in the mind. The recollections turn up at the most unusual moments. For the inner strength during difficult moments, the support when the temporary setbacks mount up and the drive to go ahead, all have few of their rots in the little moments of life, which now become among the treasured memories of happiness to give comfort and light for the rainy days.

“It has long been an axiom of mine that the little things are infinitely the most important.” Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, The Memoirs of Sherlock Holmes

The Little Things
Mary Dawson Hughes

It really is the little things
That mean the most of all…
The “let me help you with that” things
That may seem very small
The “I’ll be glad to do it” things
That make your cares much lighter,
The “laugh with me, it’s funny” things
That make your outlook brighter…

The “never mind the trouble” things,
The “yes, I understand,”
The interest and encouragement
In everything you’ve planned
It really is the little things,
The friendly word or smile,
That add such happiness to life
And make it more worth while.

Posted in Christian, poetry

A Star, Magi and a Baby

“After Jesus was born in Bethlehem in Judea, during the time of King Herod, Magi from the east came to Jerusalem and asked, “Where is the one who has been born king of the Jews? We saw his star when it rose and have come to worship him.”” (Mathew 2:1-2)

As the feast of Epiphany approaches with the first Sunday of the year comes by, the visit of the infant Christ by the Magi is being primarily celebrated. Also known as the Three Kings‘ Day or Little Christmas, this feast celebrates the manifestation of Christ. As the three kings visited infant Jesus and brought gifts of gold, frankincense and myrrh.

These three gifts had significant meaning with gold as a symbol of kingship on earth, frankincense (an incense) as a symbol of deity and myrrh (an embalming oil) as a symbol of death, burial and healing purposes. These the three gifts signify the baby Christ as the King, God and Suffering Redeemer as well as highlight the natures of virtue, prayer and suffering.

“When they saw the star, they were overjoyed. On coming to the house, they saw the child with his mother Mary, and they bowed down and worshiped him. Then they opened their treasures and presented him with gifts of gold, frankincense and myrrh. And having been warned in a dream not to go back to Herod, they returned to their country by another route.” (Mathew 2:10-12)

In the midst of the celebrations of the feast of Epiphany, one shouldn’t forget to understand the significance and meaning of the visit of the three wise men. Like the presents brought by the three magi, we should have the true presents for baby Christ. Presents that come from the heart, reflecting the true spirit of Christian behaviour and living. As the the three most important fruits of the Spirit go by love, joy and peace; bringing these gifts and sharing them would bring far deep happiness and contentment from within.

Though thousands of centuries will pass,
Oblivion will burry past dates,
But those stories live in the hearts
And they redeemed rich life!

One of them is the birth of the King!
No, not in the mansions, but in the barn of a wretched man.
A star in heaven, brighter than all grief,
All announced the arrival of God!

The Baby was lying in a small manger,
Shepherds hastily bowed before Him.
Replaced joy indefatigable fear!
Maria hugged the baby tenderly.

Christ has come! Left heaven …
Imagine this just for a moment!
Perhaps a tear flowed down his cheek,
when he made a firm decision …

Christ came so that the light would dispel darkness, to
embrace all with Father’s love, to
die for all people to Him,
and to redeem us all with pure blood!

Christ, the Savior, Jesus has come!
He was crucified … Risen !!! Now calls out:
“Leave the vice, take off your heavy load!”
He is the way and the life! And only He saves!

Christ is now not a baby in his arms,
As many depict Him.
Do not belittle the Lord in hearts!
Blessed are those who only glorify Him!

Christ has come! Many years have passed,
but He is the foundation for Christians!
And on this holiday, this Christmas,
We rejoice in this message again!

Ermolova S. (Source: vk.com)

 

Posted in Life, Personal Musings, poetry, Random Thoughts

Silent and Treasured

Last week saw impromptu weekday walks with the family, most during the early evenings before the dusk gives way to the darkness of the night. While the basic purpose was to complete the requirement for the nature projects of my kids, these walks saw the quietness of nature at their best. School secrets were shared, ideas were discussed and explored and above all, one was listening for the notes in the silence.

“Keep silent, because the world of silence is a vast fullness.” Rumi

Through the silence of the walks and stillness, one learnt to appreciate the gifts around them. Besides refreshing oneself, this stillness helps one to rejuvenate their thoughts and start off fresh. Many a time, one forgets to appreciate the silent blessing s and gifts showered on one, if one is constantly clamouring for the busy thoughts or caught in the chaos of the day. To break free and find some foothold in the melee, one needs to escape to few impromptu and sudden periods of silence to refresh and rediscover oneself. Yet discernment is required at all times. Certain things are best heard when one is silent; while some things require the silence to be broken. Knowing which is which will happen as the maturity grows over time.

“Everything that’s created comes out of silence. Thoughts emerge from the nothingness of silence. Words come out of the void. Your very essence emerged from emptiness. All creativity requires some stillness.” Wayne Dyer

Voices of the Air

But then there comes that moment rare
When, for no cause that I can find,
The little voices of the air
Sound above all the sea and wind.

The sea and wind do then obey
And sighing, sighing double notes
Of double basses, content to play
A droning chord for the little throats—

The little throats that sing and rise
Up into the light with lovely ease
And a kind of magical, sweet surprise
To hear and know themselves for these—

For these little voices: the bee, the fly,
The leaf that taps, the pod that breaks,
The breeze on the grass-tops bending by,
The shrill quick sound that the insect makes.
– Katherine Mansfield

Katherine Mansfield, “Voice of the Air,” from Poems (London: Constable, 1923 and New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 1924).

Posted in Life, Personal Musings, poetry

Choices They Be

“All things are ready, if our mind be so.” William Shakespeare

Entering into the first few hours of the fresh year, the anticipation runs high as numerous hopes, dreams and thoughts run through the mind. Amidst all these are the subtle changes that will be made over time. To know which change or decision is right, requires one to acknowledge the basic facts at hand, put a whole lot of thought processing to work as well as to with the innate gut instinct with humaneness in it.

“May you listen to the voice within the beat even when you are tired. When you feel yourself breaking down, may you break open instead. May every experience in life be a door that opens your heart, expands your understanding and leads you to freedom.” Elizabeth Lesser

Till date, one can never predict how the future will be to the point. As plans are made and decisions made, knowing that things mayn’t go as per the proper plan is important. Some plans may work, other not so. Some dreams may be crushed due to unforeseeable circumstances, while others may be affected by situations to a manner which may be unjust. Either way, unless one learns to battle the tide and cross the shores, the horizon over may just be a vision in distance. As we cross our respective shores, may each one of us learn to ring out the “right” old and ring in the “right new”.

Ring Out, Wild Bells

Ring out, wild bells, to the wild sky,
The flying cloud, the frosty light;
The year is dying in the night;
Ring out, wild bells, and let him die.

Ring out the old, ring in the new,
Ring, happy bells, across the snow:
The year is going, let him go;
Ring out the false, ring in the true.

Ring out the grief that saps the mind,
For those that here we see no more,
Ring out the feud of rich and poor,
Ring in redress to all mankind.

Ring out a slowly dying cause,
And ancient forms of party strife;
Ring in the nobler modes of life,
With sweeter manners, purer laws.

Ring out the want, the care the sin,
The faithless coldness of the times;
Ring out, ring out my mournful rhymes,
But ring the fuller minstrel in.

Ring out false pride in place and blood,
The civic slander and the spite;
Ring in the love of truth and right,
Ring in the common love of good.

Ring out old shapes of foul disease,
Ring out the narrowing lust of gold;
Ring out the thousand wars of old,
Ring in the thousand years of peace.

Ring in the valiant man and free,
The larger heart, the kindlier hand;
Ring out the darkness of the land,
Ring in the Christ that is to be.

Alfred Tennyson