OUR INNER SPRING






Pic.: Ashwin Mohta



Where do our hobbies, passions and other creative interests come from?

“There is an inner spring in all of us,” last evening, Manjeet, my friend, was telling me, “When we are connected to this source, Time and expectations come to a standstill.”

I couldn’t agree more…

Blessed are those who drink from this inner spring. Blessed, indeed, are those who discover it and trust in it, early in life.

Ideally, in Life, our hobbies and passions should become our professions. “If your hobbies and passions become your profession,” some advise us, “we do not have to ‘work’ at all!” But, then, there are others who do not agree with this theory. “Hobbies and passions should be separately pursued from our professions,” this section of people caution, “Else, we will be deprived of a ‘retreat house’ in our souls.”

I see logic in both the theories. 

 I took up teaching as a hobby and passion… Yes, the Time and expectations, both, came to a standstill when I drank from this inner spring… My hobbies and passions did become my profession…

But, then, there was this deep need to express… to watch Life from the ringside and write about it in my notes… on dairies and scraps of papers. Today, the same hobby and passion continue in my daily blogging… 

 Well, why do I do that? Money, name, fame – public applause – are not my driving forces… Whether anybody reads what I write or not, I do not worry about… I simply write, simply express.

Yes, as Manjeet says, the inner spring is boundless… The more I drink from it, the more it provides!

Manjeet, also, says, that our hobbies and passions are our therapies… They help us remain centered in life… They help us rejuvenate… They heal us!

I write sublime things, often, when dark clouds hover over my heart… when I am confused, anxious, scared, insecure and hopeless… Yes, in the thick of my troubled times, I drink from the eternal inner-spring… and emerge stronger, wiser and richer.

“What if I was unaware of this inner spring in me?”… I wondered on my way home, late last evening.


GERALD D’CUNHA


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