Life Clichés (8): Putting a name on it...

- Since none of us thought of taking a picture -

In the middle of August's damp and hot afternoons, I was sitting by my laptop not minding the heat but barely coping with the humidity, when I was forced out of my study by my family to meet some old friends and socialise.

Minutes later, I found myself at our friends' guest room, blankly staring at the bamboo trees in the garden waltzing the evening away. And I remembered suddenly, that it has been exactly a year since I've seen my friend and usual companion in this house, needless to say that I was dying to hear her exciting stories.

Her parents informed me that, unfortunately for all of us, she will not be joining us this evening nor even this summer. I couldn't hide my disappointment, but as soon as we exchanged niceties, I noticed  another silhouette making its way towards us. There she was, my guest for this clichés.

A North-American girl, with a broken French accent,  wearing a long red dress to my surprise: I was not used to see "Westerners" wearing long sleeved dresses in mid-Summer, and that was the first prejudice I was guilty of. 

Just in time, our host introduced us to each other, she was my friend's friend.

I had a feeling that she has a story to tell, one that is very different from all of those I've heard before.

I wasn't that mistaken this time, by the sunset, we were sitting under some pine trees, not long before she had told me how she ended up here.

We shared a mutual the longing for the Truth and seeking Unity. The same part about looking for that missing piece. But, I can't see myself as brave enough as  to endure what she has sacrificed just to soothe my heart and embrace the Truth. Unlike her, I haven't had much trouble getting answers to my questions, since I had all my time to discover things around me in harmony and still be open to every other culture or religion for that matter.

The journey was by no means an easy one for her. "It almost drove me insane.", she said to me, her eyes glittering with tears. It all started when she began asking questions about what she took for being the Truth. 

She spent days and days inquiring, about her purpose in life, what was it aching her, and driving her mad? She would go back home every time more disappointed than the time before. All she wanted was to understand, and have a tranquil mind. 

A restless year that seemed to be an eternity of confusion went by.

She had a feeling that whatever she was supposed to believe in, she can't put on name on it, even less define it. Deeply acknowledging that in our contemporary life, our souls have necessarily fallen out of tune.

The evening was so short, that I wasn't able to hear it all, but that first part told me more about the shared feeling of estrangement and exogenous existence we are all deemed to be living nowadays.

We stopped asking the big questions because we let ourselves feel small, and beckon a false anxiety in the answers we were seeking. But nature abhors void, and has an urge to fill it with whatever is within reach. We let our work flow fill it, or just the routine fill the void, and by the end of the day, we ask ourselves: why do we feel empty?