I couldn’t remember much when I started to write my thoughts and reflections about life but it seems like I’ve been doing it forever. Whenever there were things I couldn’t express, I jotted them down and I always have this inner movement to want to experience life in a deeper sense, beyond the superficial, beyond what I could grasp, in a word “to interiorize” what is external because in so doing, I feel that I am living life, that I am alive. Writing, they say, makes us experience life twice. I guess that is what I would want to do…to not just let life pass me by but to fully participate in it.
In a sense, in my desire to participate fully with life, I began to see myself as a pilgrim on a path, always searching for what is beyond, for what is ungraspable, for what is unfathomable which leads me in the path going towards the Great Mystery…the unutterable, the ungraspable, the unfathomable who has mesmerized me ever since and whose loving gaze I couldn’t run away from, the Silence which awaits me, the Home which my heart longs for but couldn’t quite understand.
These are bits and pieces of life here and there. There are times that I don’t write because even writing hinders me from fully experiencing and participating, I just have to be… that no matter how much I would have wanted to write, in the end, words would escape from my own grasp.