Tag: inspiration

Muting noise

Silence is a golden trait.

Noise and clutter are inevitable at work or in a social gathering. And that’s why it’s important to take time off, to let go of loudness and find a quiet spot to heal and reconvene our thoughts. For when we let our minds to be silent, to pursue the calm energy that silence brings forth, we let our minds to be at peace. We allow ourselves time and energy to reflect on our lives, to seek the truth within.

Most people who are silent, and sometimes introverted, keep to themselves and away from the chaos of the rest of the world. It’s not because we’re unsocial, but because we need time away to process what we take in.

I, for one, find it uncomfortable when I thrust myself in the company of many. I feel fine and accommodating at first, but after a while, I want silence wishing I weren’t there.

Most people assume that craving silence equals shyness. It’s not. Silence isn’t the absence of a voice. Silence isn’t a sign of weakness or meekness.

Silence is a sign of reflection. When I’m silent, I’m thinking, observing, listening to my inner self and trying to heed my soul. When the outside world shuts down, I hear myself better. When I’m not distracted by what’s happening around me, I focus on what’s happening inside of me.

And inside of me is chaos.

Every day I take in so much information—the good, the bad, and the ugly—that it becomes overwhelming to process at the time. When I’m alone at home, therefore, all the subdued information from before begins to sink in one at a time. When my body is away from physical noise, the inner monologue begins, trying to make sense of all that it heard throughout the day.

That’s when my self clarity peeks in, picking out the necessary and clipping out the unnecessary. As my mind empties itself of all things I brought back from work, my soul nourishes itself with the lessons I learnt while my consciousness relieves itself of the burdens.

Peace is a process. And it stems from practicing silence——silencing the external first the internal next. As the day winds and my mind finishes its process, I start to hear my own breathing, calm, and resting—ready to take on yet another day.

Thrill seeker

It was so typical of her that it surprised no one. Her parents wouldn’t worry much either and her teachers decided to hold off telling them until she returned.

Because she always did.

Merlyn took pride in projecting herself as such—unashamed, unapologetic, and uninterested in socialising. Her unconventional preferences singled her out amongst contemporaries. No one knew what went on inside her head, but they knew she’d run away on her own during every class picnic.

Hours later, with twigs in her hair and mud on her clothes, Merlyn came back from an adventure her friends only read about.

Habits can kill

“Routine is lethal”

A confidant once told me that routine is lethal. Because it sounded sophisticated and kind of cool, I agreed without a second thought. It also made so much sense to me—too much of anything is good for nothing, right?

But in the three years since I first heard that statement, I’ve been mulling it over in my brain so many times that I’ve begun to see it from a different angle. Even though I’m still in vehement agreement with that idea, I can’t help but wonder if there’s another perspective to it.

I follow a routine. I wake up at the same time each day and end up at work well before anyone else. I do that on purpose because I like getting in some quiet hours before people start coming in and continue the previous day’s gossip. Small talk is an essential part of the morning for most people and even though I don’t engage, it’s distracting to be around it. My solution to avoiding it is to work up a routine where I work earlier than the rest of them.

Not only do I finish a lot of my work, but I’m also more peaceful at mind. I enjoy the silence and the space it gives me to muse on my musings. I love that routine. In the same way, I leave work at the same time every day so I can get some me-time. It’s another routine that prioritises me and one I’m happy to fall into.

Routines aren’t lethal. They’re lifesaving.

However, the more I wondered about my friend’s statement, and the more I pondered on my own reality, I soon understood that there’s another side to this coin.

Sometimes routines become so routine that we lose sight of their purpose. We start doing things just for the sake of doing them, forgetting why we even do them in the first place. Most people stuck at a nine-to-five job don’t realise they’re stuck.

There’s a fine line between those who choose to follow a routine because they want to and those who follow a routine because that’s the norm. I’ve made that mistake myself and every time I catch myself doing something out of habit rather than of conscious choice, I find that it’s stresses me out.

I get frustrated that I’m doing this thing that I don’t want to but have to because that’s how I’ve always done it.

It’s senseless. It’s useless. And that’s the kind of routine that can kill our soul. Now that’s lethal.

Clear the mind

The world’s a large balloon stuffed with things that suffocate us.

It’s reality. We’re surrounded by things that bring us down and people who cloud our minds. Negativity runs amok and clarity goes askew.

At those times, though, we need to look into ourselves and seek out what’s precious to us. When life takes a wrong turn and everything seems gloomy, we find peace by focusing on ourselves.

—

Oftentimes, external stimuli affects us so much so that our internal self reflects it. I, for one, feel bloated and sick at heart when something in the family or at work upsets me. My physical body reacts to my mental state. That’s why it’s critical to achieve clarity of thought—because a lot more than the mind depends on it.

It’s not easy, to gain clarity, though. I often feel as if there’re countless things ravaging my mind that chaos reins within. It does. Although I accept it as a part of my life, I also know that it affects my health in more ways than one. That’s why I need to clarify my thoughts—cleanse my inner self, find something that puts my mind at ease and gives me peace. Because mental clarity is a promise of an unblocked path, a positive energy to help face the world.

I do everything I can to achieve that state. I satisfy myself doing what I love and what’s good for me—writing, eating clean, exercising, and reading. Writing helps me clarify—to myself—what I’m thinking, letting me get conflicting thoughts out where I can see them. That way, I can reflect and then move on. When I’m engaged in activities I enjoy, I tend to be happier and calmer. It’s from within that calm that comes my clarity.

Many vouch for surrounding ourselves with and embracing positive energy, but it’s far more necessary to ensure we’re void of negative people. Sometimes we force company on ourselves to avoid being alone. But unless the company is right, we only inflict misery upon ourselves. And when we’re miserable, our minds gather fog.

Regardless of everything we say and do, however, to achieve true peace of mind we should also possess broad thinking. Inertia and unwillingness to explore the untrodden path leads to a more tangled and twisted fate. Fear of the unknown clogs our minds and clouds our future. To power through the toughness that’s life, we should challenge ourselves to learning, and achieving our goals. Because when I want something from the whole of my heart, fear doesn’t stand in the way.

Fine and solo

I hate it when people barge in on me while I’m trying to get some me-time. That’s why I’m always wary of approaching others who seem fine at being alone. It so happened while I was waltzing off on my own in Alki beach, I saw a gentleman standing by the shore observing the coming and going of the waves. He stood there for a while in silent rumination about things I’d never discern. In a vast emptiness that surrounded us, for he and I were the only ones on the beach, he seemed oblivious to my existence.

Although I felt an itching urge to engage this man in an animated conversation, I refrained. I stood afar and watched him as he picked up a few shells, scrutinised them, and dropped some of them back. I never saw him turn around.

one in the crowd

Perhaps he had a grandchild who loved seashells, I thought as I walked away.