“Being Human” series…
At the beginning of last week, a persistent virus barged into my world. That “nasty” cough-n-cold bug everyone’s talking about. 🦠
An unwelcome visitor just ahead of the Christmas holidays left me far from thrilled.
As the symptoms surfaced, an intriguing thought struck me: why did I label it “nasty” so hastily?
Being a longtime Buddhist Vipassana meditator, I view life through a specific lens, blending curiosity, acceptance, compassion, and detachment.
It is integral to who I am.
So, applying that practice, I attempted to delve deeper, comprehending the virus’s impact inside me and empathising with its existence.
The virus, much like any other creature on this planet, fought for survival within me.
It set up camp in my lungs – a bustling colony, perhaps millions strong.
As I meditated, I could keenly feel it nestled within, a distinct presence in my lungs and mind’s eye.
To them, I was a hospitable host and a battleground for existence. A human called “Ani?” how would they know who that is?
Simultaneously, I could feel my body’s cells rallying against this foreign invasion. The conscious “me” or “Ani” had no choice but to observe this intricate survival play.
Surprisingly, amidst this battle, I felt compassion.
I knew the recent kin of this virus had claimed countless lives worldwide. Yet, a peculiar empathy lingered.
It was a mad blend of science, philosophy, empathy, and compassion – a chaotic yet meditative tale akin to the Oscar-winning film “Everything, Everywhere, All at Once,” which, incidentally, I watched thrice during this inner duel.
As I grappled within, my annual Christmas ritual, Gabriel García Márquez’s “One Hundred Years of Solitude” unfolded beside me.
The microscopic warfare eventually subsided after nine days, and my “home cells” fortified themselves, showing signs of triumph against the intruders. (aided by Lemsip? Who knows!)
As the recovery and meditative chaos of “what is the meaning of all this?” intertwined, a more profound insight gradually unveiled itself.
Pursuing life’s meaning does not lead to a clear destination.
There isn’t one.
Instead, solace resides in cherishing the gift of life itself.
Reflecting on this saga, a lingering question persists:
“Now what?”
This inquiry transcends us all, a universal quest for direction after the storm.
In life’s grand narrative (or the microscopic version I witnessed), conclusions rarely arrive as grand epiphanies.
They are rather softly whispered truths:
Cherish the chaos,
relish every breath,
and be grateful,
for the chance to live.
If this is not the core of being human, then what is?
Happy Holidays! 🎄
Ani
