Why Can't We Live a Non-sequential Life?

Sometimes I wish we did not live our days sequentially. I mean, we all get the same number of days to live... But we shouldn't have to live them in order.

--The Mother's Guide to The Meaning of Life,
by Amy Krouse Rosenthal.

A general listlessness and severe fatigue...

A bit of bawling - a rather generous bit with possible meltdown in the horizon...

A feeling of being superfluous, touching nobody, making no difference...

These were not the emotions I had hoped to wake up with the other day when the earth went around the sun yet again marking the passing of another uneventful year in a mundane life. But there they were anyway, uninvited.

The quote from Rosenthal's book popped into my head making me wonder what it would feel like to live that Deepavali day as the carefree ten year old that I was setting off fireworks and snacking on Deepavali specialties; and then jump forward the next day skipping the awkward teens but living the life of a studious twenty-something seeking comfort in academics; then jump back to those teenage days when I was filled with a drive to accomplish the next goal I had set for myself; then jump forward again to a ripe old age (if I am blessed with that) and glimpse how the kids turn out; and then jump back to the present day, whatever that happens to be...

Not really time travel per se but living my exact life that I have been given, albeit non-sequentially.

Hard as it was for me to process the strange inner disquiet that stretched out its tentacles and puppeteered me that morning, especially when the mind was content with all the blessings, I was not convinced that it was mere mid-life crisis or agitated thoughts that triggered such a melancholy... it had nothing to do with what I am or have been or ever wanted to be... nothing to do with material possessions, nothing to do with station in life, nothing to do with expectations, nothing to do with anything external... nothing staggeringly deep or philosophical... in fact I couldn't put a finger on it and that is what troubled me more.

Why were my innards smoldering so?

After all the moping and stomping and screaming about nothing in particular, the monster was finally unleashed to escape into the vast cosmos, by a simple "What's wrong?" from D.

Which is all it took for me to realize that nothing was wrong as such but just that I was terribly out of tune and my vibrations were not in harmony with the universe. Acknowledging and accepting that is one step closer to re-establishing the delicate equilibrium.

Thus passed another birthday, also the day of Deepavali (literally "an array of lights" in Sanskrit), the Festival of Lights, with the lighting of lamps and candles, sharing of simple food and being home with my loved ones.

[Image: "Wild Duck Reflecshon" by Ana]