Today while sitting in a reflective and pensive mood, I gave my mind the power to lead me through a maze with sharp turns, dark tunnels and constructive path.
I remembered my elder sister, who always happened to be my side whenever I was sad or in a bad mood. Ten years elder to me, wise, humble and very affectionate.
She had a number of stories to tell me. No wonder she was always found with books. But after reading very romantic English novels, she somehow managed to consistently produce a very dry story, with a profound moral lesson each time.
She always told long stories, very enticing for my age, with simple language and a quality of transferring me into the story itself. I could feel the pain, the misery, the strength of character, the positivity and consistent effort. With her getting into medical school, the stories started getting somewhere a touch of ailment, the hopelessness and sudden onset of a deadly disease.
Yet finally the cure, the mysterious help and support through a positive mindset, learning to be consistently grateful and holding on to the willpower. It always was with the help of a person, a friend, or a family member who believes in the times we feel utterly shattered and failed.
After the story, I used to forget all about my trivial matter that I had been moaning about. We used to talk about the things that made me special, count my blessings and share something good about me. It always ended with her compliments for me and I walking away confidently with head held high like I had conquered a territory, climbed a big mountain or found a way through the never-ending maze.
Perhaps, my sister left this impression of her positive magnetic energy with me. Today, while oceans away I thought about her. I quickly reminded myself that in this pensive and empty mindset, I had to think about one blessing or memory that I today cherish.
It was about twelve years ago when I went on holiday with family and friends. With my daughter less than a year old it was much-deserved vacation time.
Lake District is a beautiful place in the county of Cumbria in England. With villages, valleys, greenery, towns and twelve of the largest lakes, the place is a breathtaking experience. From boating on Windermere to going on ships to other islands for a break, shopping, coffee or entertainment for children… It has all the possible fascination, an opportunity to feel an absolute breather.
Popular fish and chips and ice creams never go wrong on any day. With 15.8 million visitors each year the place is such an attraction for all those who want to breath fresh air in panoramic views and amazing heritage.
Not a surprise that the poet of nature William Wordsworth was born and brought up at this place. I had read many of his poems as a child and later during my masters.
His love for nature was a magnetic field shared by his sister Dorothy, who often made him witness the beauty of nature around while playing outdoors.
In an age where industrial revolution started to boom, Wordsworth despised the change. He talked of the mechanical, dull and tiring effects of the impact of industries, of how nature is the solution, the peace, the missing broken link and the healer.
When I was young, we witnessed a number of times the doctors referred the patients to go to a beautiful, rustic and serene place for a holiday. It was in dramas too, when the patients miraculously healed and felt emotionally and mentally connected with nature.
Perhaps in this age and time, we need such holidays. Especially for the people in the field of information and technology to unwind themselves in a suburban place with scenic sights, walk, excursions with no signals and internet. A place to go back in time and live a few days without the comforts of the modern age.
Social media has become that product of an industrial revolution that has helped yet overburdened us too with irrelevant negative energies and increased stress levels.
Visiting Wordsworth house was an absolute treat. This massive house was presented in the same way as his times in late 18th century. With dining table, wood fire burning in the kitchen, his room, clothes books and games, it felt a time travel.
Yet the most beautiful sight was the garden with fruits and vegetables, musicians playing old music on some days, and the breathtaking, out of world scenic view.
It was around this place of Ullswater where William wrote his poem daffodils. And while I often thought of this poem in another way, today recalling it made me dive into it in a completely different way.
I felt that as I ‘wandered lonely’, pensive and empty ‘like a cloud’, the magnetic field of hope of my sister took me into a new journey, like William I was soon ‘beside the lake and beneath the trees’.
Where the poet saw daffodils, ‘fluttering and dancing in the breeze’, I experienced a biting point to control my response between despair and joy, bitter reality and empowerment.
I made a decision to make my ‘inward eye’ a magnet of gratitude, to refuse to let in fear or stress drag me down and muster up the power to blow the dandelion of self-pity. Gradually, I witnessed my blessed times ‘fluttering and dancing in the breeze’, ‘continuous’ and like ‘stars that shine’.
‘They stretched in never-ending line’, I wondered how I missed them in the lowest times, when suddenly ‘ten thousand saw I at a glance’.
The joy at this moment felt ‘a jocund company’, perhaps that secret support we all need in times of challenges…that lead to ‘a sprightly dance’… a liberation and immense motivation. A blessed magnetic field of hope…..
While ‘my heart with pleasure fills and dances’ I mindfully make the next move to pass it on.
In times of ‘vacant or pensive mood’, in smoky, tiring and mundane times of anxiety revolution let us rummage through our ‘inward eye’.
Amidst the maze of stress and anxiety, the door of happiness is a straight path. It has the power of changing negative situations into positive with the right attitude, focus and willpower.
During the times when I doubted my self, another elder sister of mine told me to write something. She always manages to surprise me with ideas I refuse to accept in the first place. It probably is our difference in maturity and age. I often understand it down in a few years time, jump on to them and feel empowered like never before.
Writing is my new sport. My kite flying. My mind let’s go the line, the tangled yarn of floating experiences that feel like a debt on me. With life at my back, I slowly let go the kite, while holding it by the bridle point. The wind is sometimes sufficient to help me. While I am still working to fly it high to the sky, the experience is a lot closer to witness a number of daffodils, the very first signs of spring, freedom and rebirth.
She is always the first one to read my stories and leave a comment. Which always means so much! Like you plant a tree and check on it from time to time to see it has sufficient sunshine and water, to feel the change and celebrate every fruit of it.
Let us find one blessing and feel grateful. Perhaps a person in our life that we are grateful for. Maybe to extend out the hand of help to those in need. To believe in others when they start doubting themselves.
Let us plant a tree of hope, pass the parcel of a kite, add value to the life of others by becoming a magnet of hope, of gratitude and strength in times they need them most.