Experienced something Divine today – myself.
Even to try and put this experience into words, feels like trying to squeeze the majestic heights of the Himalayas into Twitter hashtags.
And yet this impossible venture is worth doing. How else will we inspire anyone to make the arduous journey up the treacherous paths to see those snowy peaks silently offering their wispy prayers?
I used to often wonder why so much emphasis on the question, “Who are you?” Are all the possible answers to this question not very obvious in themselves? From every assumed identity, going till our very consciousness itself?
What I realised today is that the value of the question lies not in the words it inspires. What are words? Merely symbols with a specific meaning. And unless you know the meaning, the symbol is meaningless. So unless I know the meaning of the answer that is going to arise in me on asking “Who am I”, what’s the point of asking it?
What I didn’t understand is that sometimes the process is the answer. Who I am, is who I am. There is nothing to answer in it. And yet, everything to discover.
“What is Kanchenjunga?” Knowing the answer to that in words is nothing. Seeing it standing majestically in front of your very eyes….now that will tell you something. But to reach there is a journey. And the journey itself is part of the answer. Kanchenjunga would not be Kanchenjunga if it was standing in front of Churchgate Station.
What we are. Who we are. Is an already existing truth.
Asking the question, is merely to attempt travelling through the mist surrounding the truth. To direct our energy towards piercing the mist. Towards searching. Towards looking. And the looking is the point. For your own inner mountain lies waiting. Waiting to be discovered in its overflowing grandeur.