Last week I spent time with my cousin and her family in Santa Barbara, CA. I headed down to the Bluffs, a hiking region on the coast-side at about 5:15 am every morning.
Picture an apple tree. Now picture an apple falling down. What happens over time? The apple looses its freshness and if not eaten — decays and eventually dies.
After all the meditation, philosophic readings, and walks in nature I have learned very little. I thought the lessons in life would guide me to learn something profound. I thought I’d find a calling, perhaps some purpose, and maybe some meaning to all this madness.
It was the 13th day of September and my mother had called me to visit. It had been about a month since I last saw her so time with her was past due and she was persistent that I come by.
The last few days of an Indian summer were upon us. The sky was blue, without a cloud in sight, and the heat from the sun wasn’t intrusive. Rather, it felt like a warm blanket that coated our skin.
I was born in America and grew up Hindu. Growing up I took part in rituals that were performed at pooja’s (prayer meetings) without understanding why?
I asked my parents, elders, and even the priests that performed the religious ceremonies simple questions about God, my skepticism, and confusion. I couldn’t get a straight answer from anyone.
We exchanged messages for a month, talked on the phone once, and pretty much followed the cliche protocols that one assumes with online dating. Today was the day. Expectations were ruled out because I’ve been here before. You know, the same monotonous conversations about career, past dating history, horoscopes, hobbies, etc. Everyone talks about the proverbial spark of when you meet someone. I call it bullshit because science will tell you that chemicals can do some amazing things. Sometimes it’s fucking great and most of the time, not so much. Although I may seem down, it was quite the contrary as a remnant of hope flickered dimly somewhere within.
Food was life. I was the fat kid that loved cake that 50 Cent rapped about. I was lucky because Mom and Dad both knew how to throw down in the kitchen, and I mean serious Top Chef-style, but the amateur home edition.
Is the glass half empty or half full? I’m sure you’ve heard of this expression. It’s a simple concept and it carries its weight in truth. To live, breathe, and embody the belief that the glass is half-full is another story. Today I wanted to help you understand, and in no particular order, why this is so. The topics I will touch on today are: