So 10th October 2011. And the beginning of one of those weeks that just transform everything. Casual sex on Tuesday, getting unbelievably drunk at the Ritz on full moon Wednesday, flying out of Gatwick on a one-way ticket to India on Thursday, land in Mysore into the sea of yogis on Friday, get lost in dusty streets and semi-molested by rickshaw driver on Saturday, and Sunday; waking in the twilight darkness for the first practice with Sharath in the shala.
Some weeks are more eventful than whole years. Life begins in one spot and takes you to a completely different one. I look around at friends that last year I never even knew existed. Who are you??
But perhaps we can isolate a few incidences that bring things about, the circumstances that provide a context in which objects emerge, and allow events to happen.
There was the day I couldn’t stop crying at my opticians appointment, there was the day I left my PhD, there were all the times I sat in groups of people and felt as though I was dying inside, there was the moment I stared at the ceiling and forgot my own name, there were the nights I dreamt of vampires, blood, murder and death, there was all other’s disappointment in me, there was all the saying yes to everything that was bad for me, there was the neglect of my self, the constant haunting of my mother, the ties, ties, ties that bind me to meaningless structures and their norms, and finally a day that seemed to triumph over all the other days when I finally uttered the sentence I need to go and live my life – and it didn’t seem infantile or selfish or stupid or sentimental anymore but a human need, a demand that had to be served else the abyss would simply take me over.
Collating arbitrary events and squishing them into coherence. But then some moments arrive and from some primal pit of your inner organs you know this memory can never be erased, this moment signals an inescapable change in your life as you understood it. Some moments hold more magnitude than any memory can contain. And all we have are moments on top of moments; an unrelenting procession of losses.
How did we get from A to B?
Origins that turn to dust as we claw at them, in trying to grasp the tangible we destroy it all.
*The first (unrelated) part of Scattered Speculations is here.