Dear Ofir,
I wonder why you never wrote back. Maybe you never found the time, or perhaps the point of maintaining our correspondence. Either way, I do not blame you, only hope that you had. There were many things I wanted to talk to you about, ask your opinion on, as I firmly believed that you had a way of changing people’s perspective and show the same things under a different light. Alas!
In a way, although, I am thankful too. Because if we were to ever cross paths again, I wouldn’t even have the response to your simplest questions such as, “how are you?” I had promised to be better in my last letter and I wish it were as simple as that. Which is ironic because it is supposed to be just as simple as that. I wish living were just as simple as living. It is both true and the most untrue statement simultaneously.
Do you believe in luck? In co-incidences? In destiny while also not taking away the truth of free will? Would it be mad to say that I do?
It would soon be a year since I met you. The question with which I had travelled to the monastery still stays with me, unanswered. How do I surrender to the flow of the universe without panicking or ruing over the results of my actions? Is it even possible to let go of such control? It must definitely be liberating to just do things for the sake of doing them and not in expectation of an outcome, but then what purpose would my action even have if not for an outcome? I know I must do certain things to get to where I want, but it's an extremely uneventful path which tires me and consequently I get lazy because it doesn’t stimulate me enough. I am addicted to constant intellectual stimulation, and repetition bores me. But one cannot become a master of anything without going through it again and again.
I firmly believe that the reason for my unhappiness is my own self. And I am decidedly working on changing my core wiring. I do not accept that a person’s personality cannot alter. With added knowledge, experiences, pain, and truths it's impossible to stay unaffected and original. Each chapter changes the course of a book, and evolution at every degree is fundamental. Somebody, not long ago, told me that it will be impossible for me to maintain happiness as I have the tendency to question situations until they do not make sense. What a prophecy! His comment was not out of malice but concern. And I see truth to it. I have a way of driving myself to the point of insanity as I tell myself that the answers will bring me respite but all they ever do is invite more questions. Is it, maybe, the core of my personality which isn’t prone to stimulation? Can that be consciously changed (fixed)?
There are so many things to work on that I fear I do not have the time left to do them all. I should have started earlier, realized my goals sooner, had not wasted time on things that I am ashamed to admit to have been involved in. The anxiety of not having enough time takes more of my time in regret and self-doubt. My panic attacks have become more frequent and worse in intensity which take days to subdue and to get back to a state where I can work or make any decisions. And lately I have been making all the wrong decisions without any luxury of time or the possibility of a chance to go back in time and correct them. I know what you will say. To meditate and to let go. The whirlwind of emotions, doubt, regret, sorrow, and laziness is too great to navigate my mind to such state of static.
I have regained all the weight I had lost in the past months, the whole four kilos of it. It is another reflection of the slump I am in. I hate looking at myself in the mirror, yet I am too unmotivated to bring myself out of bed and do anything at all. You’d be in horror if you looked at the books I have been reading recently. I am instinctively gravitating towards the dark quasi-autobiographies where the protagonist essentially identifies himself as a monster or a being unworthy of any affection. Is it a sign to the state of mind I am in? I should think so. You are what you read, after all.
I am struggling with laziness the most. And the lack of motivation to do anything at all. If one looks closely they would see how intertwined both are. Perhaps I am lazy because I lack the inspiration or vice versa. Either way, I am thoroughly fucked.
Despite all I have said, I am better than I have been in the past two years. So that’s saying something. I keep telling myself that it’s a virtue to find oneself at rock bottom because it signifies the opportunity to go up. But the floors I end up on are false and I only sink more and more. I am afraid of the depth I need to go to get to the bottom. Do I even have the strength to keep going? How long can I keep up the façade of strength and take everything head on before splitting open? It’s a journey I am both curious and dreadful of.
Anyway, I hope life, at some point, plays a kind trick for once and may we get to cross paths again. I hope I am better by then. Wiser, stronger, and mature enough to hold conversations where I know what I am talking about from both knowledge and experience. I hope I am intact until then. And if such a day has never to come, then I hope for strength for you and faith in yourself. You are wise, kind, compassionate, insightful and a beautiful human being. I am happy that we met.
Love,
Mish
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