Square One at 3:50 AM

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                                                  I am still reading clouds in an empty sky

Square One at 3:50 AM

What precisely am I here for?
I am still asking myself, as though I have walked in a circle and returned to square one.

Here I am in the dark, listening to the wind outside, my son snoring softly on the sofa in the living room. The old ghosts no longer haunt me, but in their place sits a quiet hopelessness — a sense of wasted energy, of unfulfilled creativity, of not knowing where all this is taking me.

Yet maybe square one is not a failure. Maybe it is the mercy of being reduced to the essential question again, with nothing left to hide behind. Perhaps even what feels wasted is only waiting underground, fermenting into something unseen.

What came to mind as I sat in the dark this morning, listening to the wind and my son’s gentle breathing, is that I am in fact living J. Krishnamurti’s advice: watch your mind. I find myself tracing each thought, each doubt, each shadow of hopelessness, not to fight it, but to see it clearly. To watch thought arise and fade is, perhaps, the true work — a quiet discipline of awareness that needs no product, no “achievement,” only presence.

And maybe this is not wasted energy at all, but the beginning of seeing through the noise, into the stillness that has always been there.

I do not have the answer tonight, but I have the question. And sometimes the question itself is the prayer. 

My prayers, my heart, my soul are still crying out for the People of Palestine, compared to my minuscule tribulations, the suffering of the children of Gaza drowns them all.

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