“the wound is the place where the light enters you.” #Rumi
When I was a little girl I oftentimes sat beside our living room window as the sun set in the early evenings, and I’d watch the colors of the neighborhood change, and I'd daydream. I would gaze at the ebb and flow of the Aurora Borealis and peer at the glimmering stars sprinkled across the dark sky. There was a beauty in those evenings; a peacefulness with its own unique quality— different from that during the dead of night or early dawn. This was during the quiet that emerges just before a dream starts to form-- right before the earth falls asleep. The colors were pink and purple and deep blue, and gave an ethereal hue to the wide open, mysterious sky.
I led a calm life, consisting of school, ballet lessons, and quiet evenings at home. I lived in a constant daydream. Through the voracious appetite for books gifted to me by my parents, I yearned for a life similar in tone to those that I'd read in stories. "I hope I get to live an exciting life!" I'd say to myself, like the hero and heroines of classic tales. Though I was born in Europe and moved around quite a bit in my youth, I really was too young to understand or appreciate it. School, ballet, and home life were the basis of my existence, and I had little time for adventure, socializing, or excitement.
Thus, I ached for something more.
Many people travel to escape; to escape reality, escape relationships, escape the drab of everyday life. I have traveled a little and it is only recently that I have begun to appreciate it for what it really is. I sailed the Caribbean seas, roamed the beaches of The Bahamas, explored the rural villages of Mexico (am I sounding like a pirate? I’m definitely a pirate), and dogsledded on the glaciers of icy, brilliant Alaska; but with each new place, I experienced a restlessness and an unease that left me feeling emptier than before. I hankered for the familiarities and comforts of, not necessarily home life, but of something I couldn't quite pinpoint. I wanted excitement, thrilling adventure, intrigue, connection -- I wanted more!
I began to read even more hungrily than before. I read of ancient lands and troubled souls; I read of fated lovers and jealous rivals; I read of faraway palaces and noble characters; I read books that were too difficult for me as well as books that were written for children; I read Tolstoy, Maupassant, Dostoevksy, Stout, Dumas, Dreiser, Murakami -- and with each story my mind was opened up to vast new worlds. Through these tales I lived a life exponentially more vibrant than my reality -- until I moved to New York City.
Well, if you want excitement, there it is! The City that Never Sleeps. For every interesting character I came across in novels, I met even weirder ones in New York. I met musicians that doubled as construction workers; police officers that wrote poetry, struggling artists that served pizza and wine. I walked the avenues endlessly, at all hours of the day and night (probably not the safest choice in the world to go on walks at 3am but I had the boundless self-assurance of a 19 year old!), I ate some of the best food I've ever had from street carts and hole-in-the-wall delis. I scoured bookstores in the Upper West Side and played chess in the west village. I got chased by a rabbit-sized cockroach (not even joking, I'll write about this in a future post), and locked eyes with someone in passing with blazing intensity whom I will never see again. I gazed at the city from the window in my room. I saw lovers walking hand in hand. I left secret notes in random books on bookstore shelves. I window-shopped on 5th avenue. I dined at Georgian restaurants with my papa.
I wrote while sitting on benches in Central Park. I once watched four broadway shows in seven days. I fell in love for the first time. I made amazing friends. I watched the sun come up on rooftops. I danced. I took class. I performed. I laughed until my sides hurt and sat in somber silence for hours. I had about seventeen different jobs while I lived there and met more people than I can even remember. I couldn't have asked for a more adventurous place to live, and yet-- and yet! I still felt as though I was missing something.
Then, through searing pain and loss, the way of true meaning revealed itself. Instead of seeking the next best thing and always living for the future, I became aware of just how fierce our present moment can be. When riddled with darkness and the shroud of sadness,I began to withdraw into myself with greater intensity, and learned that if I first let myself pass through those shadows and alleyways, not numbing the pain but feeling it, I could begin to understand, and then overcome. By letting your tender heart sense its own fervent beating you let its true strength rise forth. Like the ancient Persian poet Rumi said, “the wound is the place where the light enters you.”
Thus, the difficult times in my life opened up the doors towards happiness. Once I delved onto a spiritual path, I began to be happier. And though I’ve always valued privacy, independence, and freedom, I never really understood their meaning until I was awakened to the feeling of liberation that arises when you get to know yourself through solitude. It is such a sense of comfort and strength to know your essence and your source. An everlasting and bountiful sense of joy and wisdom rises up in you— and you feel a connection with everything. I’ve noticed, as time has gone on, that the happier I am with myself the more pleasant each adventure and trip becomes. I can travel alone and still have a blast. Even my day-to-day interactions are gilded in little droplets of bliss and charm. I guess the old adage rings true; that “wherever you go, there you are.” You can’t escape yourself no matter where you go :) so why not try to be happy?
We all seek happiness conditionally; I’ll be happy when I achieve this, or I’ll be happy once I have that. But happiness exists in our very nature. We don’t need to seek it elsewhere — to do so is pure folly. It always lies within ourselves. We can have the most luxurious surroundings and be among the best people, but unless we are happy with ourselves, and unless we get in touch with our spiritual natures, we will always strive for more, more, more, never feeling fulfilled and always asking, “what now?” And how do we become happy with ourselves? By repeatedly doing the good thing. By repeatedly doing the honorable thing. By showing respect to ourselves, our bodies, and others. By using our talents to their fullest degree. Even after slipping and making errors, we can still continue to be happy by learning from the mistake and choosing to do better next time. Aristotle said it best, “We are what we repeatedly do. Excellence, then, is not an act, but a habit.” Goodness must become a habit, and when it does, we will be happy anywhere we go :)
So I’ve learned, through time, that you don’t have to be in the most impressive cities or do the most thrilling things — you can, of course, if you so desire— but you don’t need to in order to be happy. You can be happy anywhere. It is not reliant upon any outside source. And so, true happiness, to me, is this: to be able to be anywhere and still have a genuine smile on your face.
I will strive to achieve this all my life, but until then, I am content just being on the journey :)
