“Most people die with one mask remaining, wearing one last mask on, never knowing what it is to be fully loved, for who they really are.”
It is the person living the dream that others imagined for him, rather than the ones his own heart longs for. He feels the burden of following his own path and so he sticks to the one carefully paved by society for millennium & so one mask remains.
It’s the lover trying hard to be what the one they love wishes them to be.
And in doing so, often changing who they really are. One mask remains. It’s rare that people stop to ask them self, “Who am I? What do I really want from life? What do I dream of being and what do I long for?” They might ask the question but take everyone’s thoughts into the answer.
What would happen if we first fully see ourselves unmasked naked and then show ourselves to the ones we love, just as we are. That kind of sky-like freedom is what we all long for,
And yet, we hold back this freedom from our self and from the ones we love. Why? I’m not really sure. I do it too, consciously and unconsciously.
If I gave myself that freedom, I would travel deep into the world’s heart, love fearlessly regardless of the outcome, dance in wild abandon, live with the Sufi saints, Buddhist monks, Christian monk to feel life and God from everyone’s eyes. To arrive at the same space through different ways, write not just about the light but the gray shadows of my soul of which they are many, the doubts and the questions.
More and more, slowly I’m about to gift myself this freedom. A simple freedom of just being me.
“The only book truly worth reading is the book of your own life and rarely does anyone do so. Some one stops to read the book of his own life, seeing the beauty of it all, and he turns into a famous teacher, a saint or wise man. When in truth, everyone carries these great men and women within themselves. It’s just that we never stopped to the read our own book.” says Joe who is loving these cookies the most.
These cookies are strange. They’re filled with things that are making the people around the table far too intense. And of course we must talk of love.
by SHENAZ WAHID