My nature

On sunsets, trees and how the external world is a mirror of our internal state but also has the power to influence it.

Dear reader,

I wanted to say a little thank you for reading ‘Naya’. You don’t know how much you motivate me to continue penning down my silly little thoughts to share on my silly little substack. More often than not, it feels like I am writing a letter to you and we’re growing close.

To build on last post’s update, I’m settled into my new apartment but in light of recent events in my life and thus, in my thoughts, pessimism’s presence in my day amplified by leaps and bounds and I spent one too many minutes staring at the ceiling fan in anxious contemplation. I, eventually, turned to my trusty notebook and pen to make sense of my feelings and discovered something I wrote when I last went through something similar. After skimming through it, I went ahead and wrote the second piece inspired by the past fortnight. Here they are!

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I saw the woman walking up the stairs lethargically. She seemed to be of a type - the ones who pre-calculates each move before actually making it.

She reached the terrace atop the seventh floor of the building and manoeuvred her body ever so slightly to settle down; leaning against the iron sheets enveloping the solar panel hoists.

I was there to watch her.

Eyeing the mosaic floor with a peculiar interest, she tilted her head, much like how a dog I know does. I had met him several times before - a shy, reticent personality. I saw the sunlight from the floor reflected in her eyes. She thought the light danced, surely. It couldn’t be described otherwise.

With dusk approaching, she looked at her watch that told her there’s still time for the sun to set. Three quarters of an hour. It won't be dark anytime soon; no need to worry. She looked up at the sun and her brain conjured up a metaphor.

On how the sun and his aura looked as if on a sketchpad crayoned upon by a four-year old who finished his drawing, only to lick his thumb and smudge it all out.

I’m not a mind-reader. How do I know all this, you ask? Maybe, just maybe, the woman might have been me…

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The Forgiveness Canopy

It lay above above me in altitude, of my heart, my brain 
and my whole being, looking over. 
But as with many things in life, I seldom noticed it. 
Its presence on my way to work, play,
through joy as well as sorrow -
there was once and always the green umbrella of protection.

Down in the dumps, loved ones assured me of better days to hope for and I felt reassured every time one of my dear friends checked up on me, bringing with them the most serious life-lessons, making me laugh with the silliest of jokes or sending me pictures of rustic buildings from foreign locations illuminated by the early morning sun. To them, I can’t begin to express how grateful I am.

Life can seem to be pretty unforgiving and ruthless sometimes - after a period of bountiful novelty, you can end up in situations that you never even imagined, let alone planned to face. Your body’s natural stress response is not your enemy then. Anxiety is not the enemy. Your brain ship’s rational captain is being veered by the subconscious crew that’s trying to drive away the uncomfortable feeling. The anxiety of being anxious is leaving little room for good, steering your whole self into meta-worry.

With this tightness in my chest, I lay on my bed sideways, opening and closing my fingers out of and into a fist. That’s when a quitting calm slowly peeked out from underneath the raging storm. I heard a gentle voice in my head, subliminally whisper to me these words:

There are only so many things under your control but you can use them to your power. Instead of powerlessly trying to control everything, running hither and tither and failing, focus on what is right in front of you.

The voice was feminine, sounded a lot like my mother’s but also like the strong women I read stories of and about and surprising of all, a giant, noble tree.

I suggested to go to the nearby park with my mom who was visiting; I, who was holed up in the apartment building for days together. We walked around the greenery and I sat down on a bench. A glistening ray of sun hit my face and I looked up to notice its origin amidst the foliage. There it was - the canopy, gently arching over me as if protecting me with curled arms. It allowed just the right amount of light to pass through and only one work came to my mind - forgiving!

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It struck me how both the above pieces were similar in many ways yet managed to retain and embody my then mental state distinctly. Tell me what you thought about them?