Fragments of the Quiet Mind

We are, all of us, a careful construction—a house with bright, open windows where the light pours in, and rooms we keep locked, the key hidden even from ourselves. Those hidden rooms? That’s where the shadow lives. The parts of us we deny, suppress, push away because they don’t fit the version of ourselves we want the world to see. It’s easy to think of the shadow as something sinister, as though it’s where our worst traits fester: anger, envy, fear, pride. And maybe that’s true. But more than that, the shadow holds our truths—the pieces we’ve exiled because they were too raw, too shameful, or too inconvenient to carry out into the light. What happens, though, when we refuse to look? The irony is that the parts we suppress never disappear. They only grow heavier. That anger we bury becomes a quiet resentment that poisons the air around us. Envy slips into our thoughts like a whisper, twisting admiration into bitterness. Fear calcifies, hardening into excuses that keep us small. I’ve...

4:30… An image of yesterday keeps recurring on this eternal present as I sit on this plank that looks like a bench in my park. It used to be our park, but now it’s just mine. In not so far away from where I sit, I see images of how we used to be. Images so clear and etched in my memories that the gravity of my thoughts and emotions forces it to appear in the present...  Very light drizzles of rain are pouring down but the good thing is that the soul tree is there to somewhat shade me from the frosty drizzles. Majestic tree, I thank thee eternally. I called in sick today, not that I am physically sick – but my brain and heart are crazily spiraling inside me. I am sick in my soul and it is no less better than any physical disease there is. Anyway, I already told my boss of my plan and it really doesn’t matter anymore if I still adhere to policies or not. Nothing matters anyway. While I was lost in my thoughts, Scars on Broadway started playing in my ipod… The classic guitar pluc...