Monuments of Happiness
Today is an opportunity to catch my breath, after a hectic work-week. Last Saturday, I drove back to my hometown and stayed for a night. This weekend is a longer one for me because I'm on leave today. I spent the morning and early afternoon going to the supermarket and running other errands.
Here I am finally, in my abode of books in Cyberjaya, allowing my mind to rest, so that mundane thoughts fade away and deeper insights may surface. I 'recalibrate' my mind every day in my daily meditation. At the very least, doing a sanity check on all the thoughts in my mind is very helpful. I get to re-orientate myself in the right direction and ensure that I do not veer off into interminably unproductive mental side-roads.
As I write this, the sky is getting dark outside and I can hear the distant rumbling of thunder. There'll be an outburst of rain later, like most evenings during this time of the year. But the monsoon is coming to its tail-end and soon we'll be facing hot and dry weather. Another year gets on its way.
Before that, we'll be welcoming the Chinese Lunar New Year, which is a bit of a distraction at the beginning of the year, but nevertheless worth celebrating. That's how we humans live our lives--we celebrate the passing of the seasons and commemorate important events in our community. So much of our happiness and sorrow comes from living in a society of people.
No two persons think alike. You could find friends who share many of your beliefs and norms, but if you've lived together in close quarters with anyone before, you would know that you'll have make a lot of adjustments to avoid unhappiness or conflict.
We have certain core characteristics that we stubbornly maintain throughout our lives and at the same time we also change in many aspects as we grow older. Pain and pleasure are the sculptors that mould us into who we are now.
Our experiences in life is like the torrential rain that I see outside now, lashing onto the roof and walls of my apartment, testing their rigidity and sturdiness, probing for crevices to seep into, threatening to flood all the precious belongings that I have.
We have to suffer a lot of pain to protect the things we love. That lesson has to be learned again and again. The unrelenting rain is constantly probing for weaknesses on my roof and if I am not vigilant, I will have to deal with roof leakages into my apartment again. To live is to delay the inevitable increase of entropy within the sphere of concern.
The body breaks down as we age. While we are healthy, we expend our energies building as perfect a life as we possibly could: a career, a family and a beautiful home. But all these are temporary manifestations that would ultimately dissolve as we grow older and die. We'll have to let them go, sooner or later. The Second Law of Thermodynamics that dictate the increase in entropy and hence the breakdown of all things would ultimately triumph.
Nevertheless, we should not be deterred. The moment we surrender, we cease to live. To live is to suffer these pains, consciously and stoically. We also enjoy the pleasures that come from having a world moulded to our vision, at least within our circle of concern, no matter how fleeting they are.
We take what life throws at us bravely for that is the whole point of living. Every happiness in life is a monument to the pain that had to be endured to achieve it. Let's look back on all our monuments of happiness and know that they have to sit on a foundation of suffering.
