Dusk in a glass

These are a few glasses under the remains of a departed sun. The day rushed past. Like the rabbit in a race. The surface of it seemed frictionless. I glided along. Lights shone and were reflected. I closed my eyes too. Sometimes, I sleep even amid voices or even music. Once upon a time, I was very particular about sleeping and would hate being disturbed. Now I don't care.

For me, the ability to find our way in the practical, physical world is rooted in spiritual stability - a stability of the mind. When these areas are in conflict, I choose the latter without any hesitation and I am drawn to others who do too. But, of people I know, ones with similar prioritization are somewhat in the minority. Spiritual needs, of course have nothing to do with a shallow sense of certainty when there is none, neither is it about indulging in our ego to deny experience and reality. In fact, it is quite the opposite. It is about understanding oneself deeply enough to be able to identify with every bit of life around, no matter how diverse or even opposing they may seem. Only then can one find the freedom to choose.