One of the phrases I hated most when I was growing up (STILL feels weird to say that, I'm still growing up!) was "rose-tinted glasses". Everyone at home thought that I had them on, all the time. Come down to earth, and throw away those glasses, they'd say. I lived in a dreamy haze, where everything was great, everything was fabulous. Yes, it's true- I didn't really understand things like pain, suffering, evil.
And then, just like they said, I took away those glasses. Shattered them for a brand new pair, one that gleamed of practicality, supposed good sense and clarity of thought. One that I thought I'd always wanted. One that I thought would get me through life better.
And now, I find that the rose-tinted ones are probably better.
How many times have we resented our lives for being incomplete? How many times have we wished we had certain things, trivial things. They may not seem trivial to us, but in the grand scheme of things? I know I look back on so many events in school and wonder why certain things mattered to me that much. How many times have we wanted something, only to have someone point out that we actually DO have a lot going for us? How many times, have we cribbed and detested things about our lives? Quite a few, atleast in my case.
Ironically, what opened my eyes was a visually challenged boy I met recently. I was his scribe for his exams, and at the end of it all, I don't know who needed more examination- him, or me. I basically got to go to his college, write exams there and in the process, I happened to see how every tiny little thing is different. Sure, it was remarkable, how he was coping, how he was succeeding, even. But to a great extent, I realized the sheer magnitude of the everyday gifts we have. Tiny, almost miniscule ones- from being able to cross the road, to knowing which direction to turn exactly when someone calls you. From being able to sit and study with friends, to playing lagori and round-robin table tennis. From being able to see how good someone's chicken steak looks, to seeing someone's outfit. From being able to comment on an ad or movie, to being able to drive. From being able to be completely and totally independent, to being able to see pictures of people you miss. From having the potential to do almost ANYTHING, to just as easily, helping others reach their potential.
We truly have it all. We can experience everything we want to, remember what we want to, believe what we want to. We've practically nothing standing in our way, unless you look at rocks on the way as walls. Yes, folks...most of us have no major setbacks, nothing pulling us apart, nothing freezing our senses. We, quite literally, have a license to live in every way we can. And still, most of us don't.
And this is how we should view the world, ideally. Through the rose tint, where everything is ours and we don't need anything more. If a visually challenged boy can finish a degree, use a laptop, catch a bus and do SO much more, why do I sit and complain about all the perfection that exists around me? I'm embarrassed about the entire section on this blog that has the tag "How can you not vent?". Because the question, really, is, How can you, possibly?
I'm sure I'll go back, at some point, to having issues with things, wishing, wanting, needing more, a lot more. It's called being human, and being flawed. But it helps once in a while to step back and see the enormous pile of gifts we have in comparison to so many others, I guess. It's like everyday is my birthday.
And I barely celebrate.
Here's to the happy tint, a good dose of being grateful, P.O.S.I.T.I.V.I.T.Y (sutta, are you smiling?), less cribbing ( a lot more people, are you smiling?) and to the gift. The gift that we all have, of opportunity. (Sound- :) ) And to people who think I'm getting too philosophical with the post- it will happen to you too someday!
In school, we had this assembly regularly with thoughts and speeches made by students, and surprisingly, in all my 14 years there, I remember only one saying from one speech- and it wasn't even my own (adt, you will remember this too).
The future's a mystery
and the present is a gift- that's why they call it the present.