Down a long-forgotten memory lane

In the busyness of my morning at work, I chanced upon some color pencils sitting neatly in a stand. I found myself reaching out to them – to just hold them and treat myself to the feast of colors. Not that I don’t get to see colors but one of the little pleasures I have afforded myself is to write on paper with pens and pencils of various colors whenever I find them.

It was not the grown-up thing to do. But something in me gathered those pencils and came back to my place quietly. I arranged them in the VIBGYOR order and then in random manner and tried out all kinds of permutations and combinations. This unofficial playtime of mine triggered off memories of my fascination with colors. My dada got me my first paint box at the age of 3. I remember being taught to dip the little brush into a cup of water and dab it into a color cake. The newspaper was my first canvas. I painted with fervor. Food was immaterial, parents were forgotten. I had to turn that black and white newspaper into splashes of red, blue and all the colors of the rainbow.

Later as I grew up I indulged my growing fascination for colors, fantasized about days when the whole world would be awash in one color a day of the week or people turning color according to their moods!

And, yes, I have borrowed from my happy memories of colors to color up my life and I’m so much happier because of that!

My ‘blue-sky’ happiness

Today was one of those days when I found myself brimming with happiness at the sheer magic of life. On my way to office, it seemed as though the world had taken on a “new look”. In all that happiness I found myself longing to lay on a grassy glade and gaze at the skies and its happy cloud formations for endless moments. A tiny spark of memory rushed back to me over the growing up years and filled me with an inexplicable sense of joy. A little boy and girl (six and eight respectively) lay on lush green lawns surrounded by the prettiest flowerbeds looking up at the clouds. The little girl’s busy story-telling. Tales woven around the clouds and refurbished as the winds change them. The little brother’s doubts and questions are brushed away for the stories are changing course quickly. (I blush as I write this now.)

As an adult, I can still see remnants of these memories in my life. I have often woken up excited at the blue skies and during the day wondered where that excitement sprang up from! And now I know where that blue-sky happiness found its origin. It was those moments in our garden with my brother.

Perhaps you have a blue-sky happiness waiting to be discovered?

When all is NOT lost …

Picture your life as a lovely boat on calm waters under magical blue skies. And then out of the blue, there appears a fierce storm. The lashing waves whip away your boat from under you. The winds take away your loved ones. The angry skies cause the seed of fear to bloom within you. But one of the beautiful things about life’s storms is that rarely is everything lost! All of you is still there! Whole and in your senses. Shaken but very much alive. Isn’t that reason enough to give yourself a chance at a wholesome life rather than letting crippling memories blind your future. Take the life that you have and let some sunshine in! Seize the day and get some happiness coursing through your blood.

All the best!

When it’s your turn …

It’s been a really long time but it was one of those rare periods in my life when I had to put into practice all that I believed in.

Let me explain with a story from the Bible: After a tiring day, Jesus’ disciples were crossing over the Sea of Galilee. Suddenly, there churned up out of the depths a storm so furious that even the hearts of seasoned fishermen like Peter, James and John were fearful. As the Twelve quaking hearts weathered the winds, they saw a figure in the distance walking on the water! Their troubled minds could only think in the same vein – that it was a ghost.

However, Jesus knowing the condition of their hearts called out to reassure them. Then Peter responded saying, “If it is you, tell me to come to you on the water.” “Come”, said the Master. Then Peter got down out of the boat, walked on the water and came toward Jesus.

One of the lessons I had always learnt and maintained was that Peter HAD to get out of the boat and he HAD to get his feet wet before he could actually walk on the water. A step that required not just courage but faith too. I never really thought I would ever have to go through that experience, but the adventurer in me refused to let me stay in my comfort zone. And today, I am so glad that I dared to step out of my boat and into the waters. For I discovered my miracle the moment I stepped out!

Picture credit: fineartprintsondemand.com