Resistance is Futile

Oh, you know it's a long day when you're quoting the Borg.

I wonder if they have StarTrek or Science Fiction in India, but really, science fiction here would just fall under the category "This really happened to my cousin, Suresh, one night in the desert/jungle/Mumbai." And of course it did. Anything's possible if you imbibe enough bang.

When I left the Lotus, everyone was sitting around, chatting, being friendly, discussing upcoming travel arrangements and all. Initially, I sat in my room looking at Jessie's Lonely Planet Guide (I know, maybe I gave mine away too soon but the Guide will always find me, I have a feeling) and then went stir-crazy. I meant to nap but I couldn't. A wind blew up and it started to rain so I ran outside, it was over in 3 minutes and then it got hot, the wind having blown the clouds far into the distance.

I haven't caught up on sleep yet, and that's also adding to my feeling wiggy.

I love the wind, and I miss the rain. I love the desert and I miss my dad.

These thoughts keep flooding me. Without the distractions of my western life, this window into my thought process, particularly the 'darkside' thoughts - well good grief, I'm wiped out. It's a lie, I know, but I keep thinking this one ridiculous thought: I've done everything wrong. (And I mean every day, up to this very point in time. I know, that way madness be.) I tried to pretend I was channeling somebody else's problematic thought process. I tried to pretend it was ancestral residue (there's still rupees sitting on that horse, hey?) And I've tried diligently to resist the thought but well, you know what those space aliens say.

It's not about resisting, it's about change. Growth. Love. Acceptance. Why would I want to resist that? Well I don't, really, I'm just not used to thinking of it that way. When you're conditioned to think from birth that the world is a dark, scary and forboding place, it takes time to remember, that was just because they (those they's! who do they think they are?) wanted to keep you down on the farm. You've plucked your last chicken, already, Eufemia. Go! who's asking you to stay?

Good question.

So, before I go, I'll leave you with this. Often I remove myself from the others so they don't have to deal with me like this and I come and search for inspiration online. Today, it's my favourite part of the Desiderata, and the most appropriate part for me now, the end:

But do not distress yourself with dark imaginings.
Many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness.
Beyond a wholesome discipline,
be gentle with yourself.
You are a child of the universe,
no less than the trees and the stars;
you have a right to be here.
And whether or not it is clear to you,
no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should.
Therefore be at peace with God,
whatever you conceive Him to be,
and whatever your labors and aspirations,
in the noisy confusion of life keep peace with your soul.
With all its sham, drudgery, and broken dreams,
it is still a beautiful world.
Be cheerful.
Strive to be happy.