Aliya Naseer Farooq
It is that time of the year when the creatives among us, a strange breed of people, feel the stirrings. These stirrings have been given many names. Passion, calling, surge, shining, darkness, spontaneous overflow of emotions and a hundred more. Change in seasons does bring a glow to all that zeal and zest that got kind of rusty in extreme weather. When gentle summer slips into sweltering heat. When the air seems laden and breathing becomes laboured. Or when the winter has settled in and that crispy coolness of the sheets in the early mornings morphs into a frozen frigidity.
It is in the seasons’ shift when the earth is changing sides that the resting resources of the heart and soul find new expressions. I am not qualified to go deeper into the whys and wherefores of it. That’s Google’s job.
Of human heart and passion, I do know a thing or two. Only by dint of being human, you would, too, if you have lived a life close to nature. Letting yourself be exposed to the elements. The wind, rain, hail, sand. If they have blown your way and you stood your ground – unflinching – the sand stinging your eyes, the rain beating cold and constant, the wind blowing against you. If you have done that then you are a kindred spirit. For you have been wounded, marred and scarred. ‘ The wound is where the light enters ‘ Mevlana Rumi.
If you have endured the harsh and the false without letting it get under your skin, if you have let them spread their version across the skies and looked up with a smile, if you simply stood your ground outside of the circle, if you did not hide behind lies, deceit, trickery feeling compelled to step back into the circle and explain your version of the story then you know that the light has entered your soul. The circle, you see, is what stops the light from entering.
The limelight hides the light as do torches of self love, self pity or selfishness. The light does not enter for they are already lit up, aflame, on fire with their own brand of the truth. Seasons are stirring again. One can smell the new beginnings unfurl like bright yellow curls of fine lemon zest.
Storms, rains and floods are washing away eons of neglect and corruption, exposing harsh realities.The winds of change are blowing simultaneously over the scars of deep wounds like a mother’s healing touch as she blows on a scraped knee.
Be glad to choose passion over indifference. Anger over lassitude.
‘ If you’re not angry, you’re either a stone or you’re too sick to be angry. You should be angry. You must not be bitter. ‘ Maya Angelou
Embrace your anger, your fear and your gift. Strive to make your gift larger than your anger and your fear.Let the season change you. Change is growth. Let the energy flow. Be creative. Be yourself.
