Why do we fall so utterly in love with certain books, that as we read them, we feel as though we are living each word, and not just perusing through the pages? Why is it that certain books strike a chord so deep within us that we lose ourselves in them? Why is it so reassuring and comforting to know that books such as Exodus, Pather Panchaali, Anne of Green Gables, Oranges are not the only fruit, Siddhartha, Gone with the wind, To kill a Mockingbird, The boy in striped pajamas, Man's search for meaning, Pratham Pratishruti, Oliver Twist, Crime and Punishment, The book thief, and many, many more of my well-loved books will always be there in my heart for me whenever I feel alone, that nothing and nobody can take them away from me?
I have just finished reading a book "The choice" by Dr Edith Eger, a holocaust survivor who went on to get a PhD in psychology and change hundreds of lives with her compassion and wisdom. I was so overwhelmed by the 570 page book that I forgot myself and everything else, and read it literally without pausing for breath for the last 24 hours while flying from Kolkata to Perth... I was in a trance and could not put the book down till I reached its final cover, though I was exhausted.
Was it the contents of this book, or the way it is written, or the state of my mind when I read it that is responsible for this pleasant trance state? Listening to a beautiful song or looking at a beautiful sunset or losing myself in a book is the closest I have ever felt to God... to my soul... to inner peace. It is the same peace I sought, but never found, while crocheting all our family photos into a single tapestry, a single work of art that would last forever... as if it would somehow immortalize the members of our family together, somehow stalling my father's swift and inevitable decline, his impending death.
Dr Eger says, as numerous other wise people have done before her, that we cannot change the events in our life, but it is OUR CHOICE as to how we react to them. I love Dr Eger and what she represents, I love her indomitable courage and infinite patience, I love her attitude to suffering and life, I love the fact that she traversed the barriers of distance and time through the sheer power of her words to touch my innermost core.
I take a pledge today. I choose to be happy, to be kind, to forgive myself. I relinquish myself of my overwhelming burden of guilt- guilt to my beloved friend Murali for being alive while he is dead, guilt to my father for not being good enough and not working hard enough ever, guilt to my mother for not being the daughter she wanted (long haired, singer, traditionally dressed, obedient), guilt to my ex-husband for not trying hard enough to preserve that doomed marriage, guilt to my sister for not taking care of our ailing parents and for forever torturing her and never doing anything good for her, guilt to my brother-in-law for being rude to him and again, just taking from him and never giving anything back, guilt to my father-in-law for not being caring and traditional enough, guilt to my niece for being selfish and self- centered, guilt to my kids for not being a good mother the way my mother was to me, and finally, my accumulated guilt to my husband- for trapping him into a lifelong relationship at a time when he was helpless over his mother's sickness- for lacking the skills and the desire to make a beautiful, clean home and garden and delicious meals for him, for giving in to depression and making his otherwise happy life hell.
I acknowledge my feelings. Some of them may be true, but I realize that a lot of the burden I carry is probably unfounded. I accept myself though I am not slim enough and smart enough and beautiful enough and good enough and studious enough and successful enough and though lacking in memory, in homemaking and cooking skills. I accept myself as I am. I realize that again, a lot of my faults are products of my own relentlessly critical mind. I understand that a large part of my constant self-criticism can be traced back to the expectations from me during my early years - but again, I realize that it was done out of love, that might have been misguided, and with my best interests at heart... I forgive my parents for any failures in my upbringing, and beg forgiveness from my children in their future, for any deficiencies in theirs. I give myself permission to be alive, to rejoice in the lovely family that I have and the lovely world that I live in. I accept that I have faults and embrace them- but I promise never to undermine my virtues, my strengths, my desires, my inner core. I forgive myself. I forgive myself. I forgive myself.
May I never forget these words, these feelings.. Amen.
I have just finished reading a book "The choice" by Dr Edith Eger, a holocaust survivor who went on to get a PhD in psychology and change hundreds of lives with her compassion and wisdom. I was so overwhelmed by the 570 page book that I forgot myself and everything else, and read it literally without pausing for breath for the last 24 hours while flying from Kolkata to Perth... I was in a trance and could not put the book down till I reached its final cover, though I was exhausted.
Was it the contents of this book, or the way it is written, or the state of my mind when I read it that is responsible for this pleasant trance state? Listening to a beautiful song or looking at a beautiful sunset or losing myself in a book is the closest I have ever felt to God... to my soul... to inner peace. It is the same peace I sought, but never found, while crocheting all our family photos into a single tapestry, a single work of art that would last forever... as if it would somehow immortalize the members of our family together, somehow stalling my father's swift and inevitable decline, his impending death.
Dr Eger says, as numerous other wise people have done before her, that we cannot change the events in our life, but it is OUR CHOICE as to how we react to them. I love Dr Eger and what she represents, I love her indomitable courage and infinite patience, I love her attitude to suffering and life, I love the fact that she traversed the barriers of distance and time through the sheer power of her words to touch my innermost core.
I take a pledge today. I choose to be happy, to be kind, to forgive myself. I relinquish myself of my overwhelming burden of guilt- guilt to my beloved friend Murali for being alive while he is dead, guilt to my father for not being good enough and not working hard enough ever, guilt to my mother for not being the daughter she wanted (long haired, singer, traditionally dressed, obedient), guilt to my ex-husband for not trying hard enough to preserve that doomed marriage, guilt to my sister for not taking care of our ailing parents and for forever torturing her and never doing anything good for her, guilt to my brother-in-law for being rude to him and again, just taking from him and never giving anything back, guilt to my father-in-law for not being caring and traditional enough, guilt to my niece for being selfish and self- centered, guilt to my kids for not being a good mother the way my mother was to me, and finally, my accumulated guilt to my husband- for trapping him into a lifelong relationship at a time when he was helpless over his mother's sickness- for lacking the skills and the desire to make a beautiful, clean home and garden and delicious meals for him, for giving in to depression and making his otherwise happy life hell.
I acknowledge my feelings. Some of them may be true, but I realize that a lot of the burden I carry is probably unfounded. I accept myself though I am not slim enough and smart enough and beautiful enough and good enough and studious enough and successful enough and though lacking in memory, in homemaking and cooking skills. I accept myself as I am. I realize that again, a lot of my faults are products of my own relentlessly critical mind. I understand that a large part of my constant self-criticism can be traced back to the expectations from me during my early years - but again, I realize that it was done out of love, that might have been misguided, and with my best interests at heart... I forgive my parents for any failures in my upbringing, and beg forgiveness from my children in their future, for any deficiencies in theirs. I give myself permission to be alive, to rejoice in the lovely family that I have and the lovely world that I live in. I accept that I have faults and embrace them- but I promise never to undermine my virtues, my strengths, my desires, my inner core. I forgive myself. I forgive myself. I forgive myself.
May I never forget these words, these feelings.. Amen.
