I often spam my friends with my scribbles - which is mostly a kind of diary, so that anyone/someone (I hope) finds some inspiration or a spark to explore it or other things in their way.
Today I happened to read my friend's blog and I found this character (that he mentions in the blog) to be doing a much better living - in the present, the flow - staying afloat, than I do...
And here it is,
KS – An Octopod Observer:
“One of my childhoods friends moves around in a curiosity car. Everything and anything is intriguing. Like a child investigating every shiny object on the road, the friend looks at everything through the lens of curiosity. And they write. The writing is neither polished nor does it attempt to be so. But it clearly shows the relentless pursuit of the next shiny object. Except, in this case, unlike a child, which throws away the curiosity, they dig in, investigate to satisfaction through an adult’s perseverance, write about it, and then move on.
Such a relentless pursuit might appear to some as empty, just an adult’s version of a child’s search for the next shiny object. “Yes”, I said. “Isn’t that what we all want?”….
….
After a few initial entries, this blog turned into a selfie-stick focusing on the internal turmoils. In hindsight, it was destined to go there as I went through a transformation of sorts in self-awareness and compassion. It appeared I suddenly discovered that mirrors exist and was noticing how I looked internally. Like a child has learnt to walk and now moves around the streets looking for the next shiny object, I wandered inside my head to make analyses that were intriguing, dissonance-inducing, and educative. As the weeks rolled by, I had taken down the low-hanging fruits. More and more of the time spent in front of the mirror brought out the dissonance-inducing aspects. And it became much more difficult to write. Once a pattern set in, it became difficult to break from the routine of being curious about the insides (even if the stimulus was external). I felt that I couldn’t find anything to write. On the contrary, I could not just think beyond the boundaries that have crept up over the year.
I often don’t get to read all that my friend writes in their blog as it gets published. But I make it a point to read them even if I’m a month or two late. Beyond the topics, the interest is in the process of being an adult and still carry the curiosity of a child.
….”
“…
- To my friend whose curiosity continues to make me sit up and notice my lack of it.
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