It dawned on my that my relentless approach towards innovation was fundamentally flawed. At once I had been drenching the flow from a river of ideas without letting back the water to garner. Soon all had been quenched – the reservoir used up.

Armed with the freedom and vigor that a repose had kindled in me, I set out to confront and battle the problem I had once evaded. I began to seek the rotten heart of the quagmire – what ultimately fell amiss?

The new quest went beyond just the immediate problem – which was but a manifestation of a bigger infection. I decided that I did not just want to rise from this deep chasm I had fallen in but rather, pave my path up and discover the secret to ‘rising’ itself.

‘The next time I fall, though inevitable, could be tarried if I understand the nature of the boulders I stumbled on and avoid them,’ I decided. ‘ I’ll learn from this fall, what it is like to emerge a phoenix. The art of rising, I’ll master.’

With this, I set out to study the problem, which, as it turned out was overworking. My mind, I discovered, was so constrained to the masterpiece it was supposed to be working on that it grew soon, void and deprived of food and sleep and ultimately fell ill. The sickness of the contraction began to fester down my mental alleys and destroyed my ability, imprisoning my potential. Consequently, I had plunged into despair, because all the world that I had known had rotted.

I needed to redefine myself, reconsider my potential by releasing it from its bonds to writing alone and interact with the rest of the world as well. As much as I had to explore deep and innovate, I also had to drink in from the world and fare far and wide. The scales had tipped. From once being constrained with just the external world and its ways, I had now begun to focus on exploring the mines of my potential and interest, neglecting the brightness of reality. And mines… even though they house gold and diamonds, are dark and lonely places. A balance was required.

If I wanted to go back to exploring myself and extracting buried treasures, I would set out with a map that leads back to the world of light and men. To uncover the secret of this balance – which is a motley of relentless odysseys against weather and wear, and idyllic exhilarations of the moment without any expectation; the deep core of the Earth and the tranquil vastness of the sky. When the realm to walk on was this huge, the world was a colorful and dynamic place, I realized.

So this was the time I began to see the value of letting things go, relaxing and giving my mind space to breath. Passion can’t be chiseled. It has to be left unperturbed so that it could flow down forth its peaks and wet my soil to rich luxuriance.

To rise back from the fall, I had to unfold my wings and fly rather than weep by the dry flakes of the faded river. It’s okay if I can’t do this. This failure can’t stymie the flow of my life. In the end, my aspirations soar beyond just words and art and the heart – it is life in itself. And I will exist, if not through expressions of art, through my unremitting flow that devours even hardened rocks that hinder its journey.

Flow and freedom – unfettered potential.


To be continued…

(Image courtesy: Pinterest)


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s