The Awakening of Waves

I'm blogging today, on a Friday evening having completed my work for the day and week. The big event today is the sad passing of Queen Elizabeth II, after 70 years on the throne. 

What a long and magnificent life she had led, having had the privilege to see so much of modern history first hand, with 15 British prime minister serving under her reign, from Sir Winston Churchill to Liz Truss, who only replaced Boris Johnson three days ago.

Could any mortal have lived a more illustrious and meaningful life like the late Queen? Family, wealth, fame, power (arguably) and the adulation of millions? She altered the world in her own gentle and subtle ways; she lived a long, happy and comfortable life, enjoying good health until the very end. Could anyone have asked for more out of a mortal existence?

If that is not a good life, as we mortals define it, I don't know what is.  But what does it say about the lives of us ordinary mortals, who lead humdrum existence, unknown and un-feted by the world? Do we need to leave behind a legacy, to be remembered by many for our lives to be considered worthwhile?

I posed many questions which I am now going to meditate upon. When we say, we are honoured and remembered by the world, we mean that our existence leaves behind something that made changes into the life of many. We had an effect. Hitler is remembered but for the wrong reasons. We wouldn't want to lead a life as 'meaningful' as his, would we? 

We have to leave a legacy of positive effect on the world. You and I are descendants of people who must have had suffered hardships, if not recently, at least in the past before. They pulled through, to perpetuate their DNAs, leading to you, which is the latest incarnation of this drive for survival, of life itself. 

But what is so precious about us, as individual egos, that needs perpetuation?

So what if our DNA and our deeds do make a difference on this pale blue dot, floating in the cosmos ocean? Should the ancestors of our gut bacteria feel proud or happy about it? Will we be able to look down from our cloud perch in heaven, and admire the beauty of our handiwork on Earth?

This incarnation of yours, is simply a rising and falling of a wave, in the vastness of the ocean. The actions of every wave, in its own small way, do affect the entire ocean. Or are waves simply the effect of this huge mass of water which we call the ocean?

Whenever we feel pride, we are looking at the ocean from the viewpoint of the wave, who thinks it did its part in the turbulent storm that tossed ships around like plastic toys in a bathtub. When the wave dies, it disappears into the ocean, only to be 'reincarnated' as another wave, based on the distribution of energy in the system. Does the new wave remember its previous deeds? Or perhaps, the wave one day wakes up and find that it is pointless to talk from the small perspective of the wave and that it is part of something much bigger, which is the ocean?

We lead our lives as waves in the ocean. Perhaps one day, we will all awaken and realise that we are the ocean and all the mortal concern of waves are rather laughably petty. Even the ocean itself is but a small part of a larger system--Gaia, our Mother Earth, which is a planetary ego, and a successful one at that, perhaps the celebrity of the solar system.

Let's lead our simple lives as waves first and do our best within the sphere of our existence. But we must  have this realisation that whatever we think of as the pinnacle of human achievement is only meaningful from a very limited viewpoint. Existence itself is much vaster than what we could comprehend with our puny minds. And so we ride along happily, as tiny waves, awaiting its moment of awakening.

The Mechanics of Attachment

I usually blog on Saturday mornings but today I went instead to Amcorp Mall to check out some old books at the indoor flea market there. Chanced upon a rare first edition of a book which caused a lot of controversy when it was published. I don't usually collect vintage books but today I couldn't resist buying it for RM135.00. I thought it was a good bargain because the book is selling for close to USD300 on eBay. 

Driving around the PJ New Town area brought back a lot of memories of the old days when I used to loiter around the area as a student. Later I dropped by at SS2 to collect a fountain pen I had ordered online from Pen Gallery. It's an old Dunhill pen, which I thought would be good for my collection. Tested it just now after inking it with Diamine's Oxblood. It writes beautifully, with just enough wetness and feedback.  The book and the pen made my day.

Books and pens are the only 'luxuries' that I indulge in these days.  If I were to be deprived of these things, I would probably suffer. But these are attachments that I allow myself, as a normal human being, so that I may experience the pain and pleasure of ownership.  

Once you allow yourself to be attached to anything, be prepared for the emotional rollercoaster ride. Becoming the supporter of a soccer team is another kind of 'safe attachment'.

I just watched Liverpool being held to a 0-0 draw at Everton. It was a match that the Reds could have lost and that would have ruined my day. Dropping 2 points from the draw was not pleasant but it wouldn't be as painful as losing the match.  We football fans suffer these ups and downs every week, tracking the fluctuating fortunes of our favourite teams. 

We support a football club so that we may experience extremes of emotions safely. When Liverpool wins a title, the ecstasy that comes with the triumph far surpasses anything that I would normally experience in my humdrum everyday existence. That is why we become football supporters. When we attach ourselves to a team, we gain an opportunity to share the happiness of its triumphs and the despair of its defeats.  And when, our favourite team loses, we comfort ourselves by saying that it's not the end of the world. At the end of the day, it's just a game, involving a team that you had quite arbitrarily attached yourself to.  

I don't live in Liverpool and have never even been there before. I really have no business supporting them. But I do and I have been supporting them since I was a kid, watching their matches on black-and-white TV.  Those were the days, when sports commentators had to help audiences identify the teams through the monochromatic shades of their jerseys. ("Liverpool are in the darker shorts"). And so I partake in the joys and sorrows of their fortunes.

We are all emotion junkies. Being human means being able to feel the whole gamut of emotions.  Being soccer fans give us the license to behave emotionally. You can cheer and jeer madly for the duration of the match, and that's totally acceptable and even expected of you, if you call yourself a fan.  

To live is to be attached to something. It could be books, pens or a football club. Whenever we say we love something or someone, we are actually forming an attachment to the subject. Being attached means you have certain expectations, which might or might not be met.  And that is the cause of all our sorrows. But it is only through the suffering of attachment that we learn how to be eventually free of it.