I begin my days groggy and sleep-deprived, my mornings a private hell
brought on by late nights and long work hours. Coffee runs at 10 after
practicals keep me awake during class. I jot down notes, attend meetings and
work, only to end past midnight to do it all again.
I don’t mind working; on the contrary I am one who loves a busy
schedule. Time is of the essence and prioritizing should be one's greatest
strength.
We worry so much about making it. About making things right, about
making things work, about making it in life. We worry incessantly about plans
and projects--we laugh a little, we rest a little but we worry a lot. We worry
if we're right; we worry if we're not. We worry of what is to be, what has been
and what's happening. We worry without acknowledging it; we worry about the
little things and as soon as we've solved the problem, we move on to worry a
little more.
Don’t get me wrong, I don’t mind worrying. I like a little doubt to
keep me in check. I like thinking things through. But I worry that I worry too
much. I worry that people would find me too worrisome. I worry when people
around me don’t worry.
But even I, with all my plans functioning and my work ready for
execution, falter when it comes to my four o'clock chai. The happy memories I
have of visiting my grandparents during the summer, napping after lunch, only
to wake by four for the chai I was rarely allowed back home with my parents.
Those sun-kissed days come back to me in my most perilous moments,
beckoning me to abandon work, drink a little tea, nap a little nap and rest.
In this life so full of noise, it seems surreal to imagine a tiny
little place called home, with only sounds of peaceful breath; of warm sunrays
hitting your face as the curtain moves gently in the breeze, letting in the
sweet music of swaying trees and rustling leaves.
One wonders if those days will ever come back; I believe that that
should be our ultimate goal.
So the day that I lunch, tinker a little with my work and nap, only to
wake at four for tea; that day, I would
know that I have, indeed, made it.
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