A musical trip

Channel energy through music? That’s something I would agree to, in theory. Sure it sounds about right to say that you are channelling your physical and metaphysical energy through the beats of music. But then theory remains just that, unless it is implemented.

Well I now stand proven that you can indeed channel your energy through music.

The past weekend was, for me, something surreal. It wasn’t a trip that I undertook, it was an experience. When your mind is floating away, you bring it back with the sounds of music. The mind comes back only when the body responds to that thump. The thump of your heart. It felt illusory to explore my outlet of emotions; those that were now controlled by music. I was moving to the beats, my thoughts juggling my mind and my body.

I was stripped of all choice. The music decided my emotions, my movement, my thoughts. I was not in control. I had released everything and was open to being led. I felt as if my mind and my body were moving against each other, but as one unit. They were on different wavelengths. They were responding to different frequencies of sound. The sounds had them. My subconscious was becoming my reality. Having no control let me tap into a subliminal reality. The music brought it out. I guess I wanted it to be my reality.

My thoughts became my force. I found an outlet for that energy. That outlet led me to frontiers undiscovered in my mind. The discovery was an experience of infinite dimensions. It destroyed the barriers that stopped me. To destroy what was, I entered what will be. I entered through my gateway. The gateway of music.

Dream a day away..

Look. Look into the distance. Look into the distance and think deeply. Look into the distance and think deeply as if you have work.

It’s a beautiful ploy. Just stare out, as if you are waiting for your next inspiration. “No, I’m busy. I’m trying to conceptualise some ads, don’t disturb me.” Who knew it would work like a charm? You have created a barrier to any disturbance. And in the mean time, what do you do? Whatever the hell fancies you! Daydream about trips you will never make, about accolades you never will win, or just fantasise about women you will never be with (try PG-13).

It works beautifully. But the effect on your mind is that it starts losing the ability to focus. I am not talking about the kind of focus most parents talk about – “Focus on your career…” I am talking about focus in terms of being able to concentrate on the job at hand, on what is required of you. Because once you’re lost in yourself, everything else is a moot point.

I like it.

I am not saying we should shirk off responsibility. But it’s fun to shirk off the focus in life. Sometimes it’s necessary. When you focus on things too much, everything else gets blurred. The smaller things in life; maybe the better things in life (unless you day dream about killing your boss. I’ve come across people like that. That’s just a little over the top.)

So what should I do? Who cares! I want to free myself from focus. I want to do everything, think everything. Why should there be a reason to stop me from doing that? I don’t like focus. Again I’m not speaking about the career focus, that should always be there (kids, stay in school.)

The loss of focus lets you explore another side to yourself. A different realm, where you are the sole inhabitant. It’s your world, do what you wish. Discover each and every portion of the mental map you have drawn for your world. Make yourself known to the other side. And then come back to venture elsewhere.

So day dream. Lose that focus. Turn back the tick of the clock. Dial back the pace of life. I need to let my mind un-focus, so that I know where I don’t want to be. Cause what’s the use of what you do, if it isn’t what you dream about.

The thought that presses me down

When you’re in a profession that needs you to constantly think, what happens when you no longer want to think? I don’t want to think. I want a break from thinking. I’m tired of it. A constant barrage of thoughts weakens my will to think. It just gets too much.

But then you wonder, is it the process of thinking or everything else around? If you just had to sit and think, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. But it’s the other things around. Because before you can finish one thought, your world interrupts you. Some work, some noise, some girl, some calamity. The world interrupts. And there goes that chain of thought.

A broken chain is not easy to fix. Once you lose that line, you are left trying to grapple onto the last threads of that fading thought. And you scrape and scramble to regain it. It’s within your grasp, but just slips through. So you sit, lost and alone, because even your thoughts have left you.

That is what tires me. Yes, it’s not the thinking part. It’s the task of losing a clear thought and finding it again, but not anytime soon. I’d be a happier man, if I could sit in peace, just think and finish my thinking. Well there isn’t really anything like finish thinking, but still.

There is a lot that is jumbled in my head. I need to think them through. I feel saddened when I can’t clearly recall my thoughts. It’s because of this confusion that surrounds us. The chaos filters into our mind. There is a reason why the monks chose the mountains, removing themselves from the everyday world. They went for the sole purpose of finding a higher self within their thoughts. Maybe that’s what I need.

I want to think clear, lucid and straight. The world should become oblivious to me and me to it. I want to be either in the world or floating in the clouds of my thoughts. Mainly, I want to stop wanting to stop thinking.

Compare me with thee?

It’s a feeling. Or maybe the lack of one. The lack, of feeling that you’ve accomplished something. You sit and wonder what great shakes you’ve done. “Oh yes, I have just cured cancer”. Okay maybe, “Yes, I just wrote a bestseller”. Or maybe “Yes, I just wrote a piece which I will treasure for years to come”. Yes, the lack of that feeling.

It’s sad but that void comes only from one place. The world. Comparisons drawn in the world. Comparisons not drawn against one’s self. Because if you’re just starting off, you don’t even know how to compare with yourself. So your subconscious compares. Regularly with many updates.

You compare with the people of the world. The actions of those people. The achievements of those people. The levels reached. The comparisons can be monetary as well. It happens. We compare because we can’t help it. And how does that make you feel? Lacking in worth. And that is an endless abyss. Once you enter that black hole, it’s not easy clambering back out. It sucks you in deeper and deeper, until the bleak reality of a failed life hits you.

So what do we do?

I don’t know. Because there is nothing specific to do. There is no set rule to come back to yourself. You try and try. Experiment. “Work hard and have your goals in order”, is all hoopla over nothing. Everyone works hard, at something or the other. The point is to find what works for you. Try whatever the hell fancies you. Try, scrape, beg, borrow, smash. But don’t stop trying. Come back to yourself. Become yourself. Someday. Someday, when your attempt is successful.

That’s my plan. As of now, I’m going to go and compare my words with some others, cursing myself for having done so.

Midnight in Paris

Midnight in Paris. A beautiful movie by Woody Allen. And it truly is beautiful. I fell in love with it. The direction, the cinematography, the characters and ahh the music. But most of all I loved the concept. A man who believes that the golden age is long gone, the 1920s in Paris to be precise. Something is lacking for him in the time of the present.

A writer by profession he’s lost in the 1920s. Because that is when true talent around the world came together to celebrate life and each other in Paris. Transported at the stroke of midnight, back into the world of Paris in the 20s, he rubs shoulders and ideas with the likes of Ernest Hemmingway, Scott Fitzgerald, Pablo Picasso, Salvador Dali, surrealists, realists, artists and aficionados.. A time, that most would kill to relive. And in turn he falls in love with a woman, who symbolised whatever he loved about Paris in the 20s.

Its not a love story though. Its a story of self discovery and self preservation. Preservation of your mind and soul. What does he discover in the end? That we as humans always believe the past is beautiful and perfect. It strikes the chords of truth. Those in the 20s took the time of belle epoque to be the golden age, who in turn believed the renaissance stood as the time of free imagination. And who knows what the renaissance artists believed..

We are stuck reminscing about a time long gone, constantly wondering why we never make the most of the present. That being, because we can never truly stop comparing. The world gone by, has gone. The present beckons, “Come, I could be intriguing, I could bring a smile to your face, I could free the leash of an unimaginative soul..”

But why do we ignore? Because we already know the magnificence of the past and ignore that, which could be of the present. We say we think about the future, but only what society has laid out for us. What of the path that we intend to build? What of the path that our imagination could build? We need to unshackle ourselves from the past, keeping them as fond thoughts, and take care of this moment.

Our glory days are yet to come, but only if we make ourselves think so.