Kids, Oh! kids

What is it about kids that keeps us from putting them up for adoption and getting our life back? :) After I had my daughter, it's as if I have ceased to exist. My life isn't mine. Nothing is mine. Time. Space. Energy. Nothing.

And as I have come to realize the hard way, I am not the only mother who feels that way. What, then, is it that makes it worth the while? Is it the delicate kiss loaded with spit that is laid on my forehead when I sleep my worn-out sleep? Or is it the little soft hands that press my head a couple of times when it's splitting with a migraine in the hope of fixing it? Is it the naive heart that truly believes in the kiss it and fix it way of making owiees go away? Is it the soft whisper that tells me I am loved when I need it the most? Is it the feeling that washes over me every time those tiny hands wrap around my neck and 'crush' me in a bear hug? Is it the peace that I feel when I watch her smile in her sleep? Is it the innocence in her voice that asks me a million times during a one-hour flight if she is troubling me and if I am finding it difficult to 'mangage' ? Or is it the absolute earnestness in her face when she says,"Oh! We are just going to drive to Cochin, not fly?" because the plane taxies for a little longer than usual :)

Musings...

• Have you ever noticed that the longer you stare into the distance, the farther you can see. Like when I sit and stare at the sky. Now, that is something I could do for hours. Just sit and stare at the sky. Without a care in the world. The only time when I am free of thoughts. Free of worries. Free of todo lists. And as I stare, it feels like the sky is expanding. As if it were opening out its arms to embrace me, to engulf me in its quiet and peace and power and beauty and immensity. To free me from me.
• Have you ever noticed that men never want to grow up? Is it just coincidence or is there a connection between men never growing up and men never having much to complain about except work and wife?

The joy of dancing...

I love dancing. I know this is the billionth time I am saying that but I truly love dancing. Just the sound of music and watching someone dance moves me to tears. And every time I watch someone dance, my love for it only grows multi fold.

The person that I am, once that realisation has come to me, I have to figure out why. Or at least think about the 'why' part of it. So, I thought about it. And I think I have an answer. At least part of an answer.

Now there is the regular stuff of dance giving me wings and setting me free. And it takes me to another world and how this is the only thing that I do for myself. This is the only time I get for myself, a time where nothing else matters. But I think what I love the most about dancing is the pure joy of it. Not the kind of joy you get from believing that you are adding value to a system. Not the dependent variety of joy but the kind of joy you get from doing something that has no purpose in life. I don't dance for a purpose. I don't dance for a reason. I just dance. The same as I just stare at the sky or the mountain. Or listen to the water tumbling down stream. Or listening to the birds chirping. There is a quality to purposelessness that goes unmatched.