I wake up in the morning planning about work stuff: time to get ready, anticipated traffic, whom to call during my morning commute, estimated time of arrival, first meeting in the day, the landscape for the full day, what to focus on, etc. Then I execute on them.
In the late afternoon I arrive home trying not to think about work peaking only occasionally on my iPhone. Yet when there is an email from the "grown ups" I jump at it and completely submerge in it. It takes time after that to get back to home life. And even more alarming, to get back to real meaning of life and the true contentedness.
I came to work this morning yearning to read a particular piece of poem. Indeed, despite the availability of everything at my fingertip with the iPhone technology, I still marvel in reading poetry from books and not screens. I have only two books at work which are far from what I used to have in my room growing up. All books literally at my fingertip in the book shelves above my study desk. I had pieces of paper with a verse or two on them all around my desk and the wall behind it as constant reminders. Reminding me of the goal. Of my path. Of my real truth.
"To reach Leili's (i.e. beloved's) house which has a lot of dangers on the path awaiting you
the first requirement is to be Majnoun (headless in love)"
"Since you have Noah as your ship captain, what fear from the storm?"
"The secret to peace in the two worlds are hidden in two philosophies:
To remain faithful to the friend
To practice affability with the enemy"
"The mood of the times would never stay the same, do not grieve"
These constant reminders looked fancy and felt like fantasy at the time but now I know they were necessity. They were a means of connection which was lost. Now I found it!
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