There is a particular, peculiar and stupendous terror in our heads: we call it shame.
It comes in different sizes, colors costumes, riding different vehicles. Until the day we become able to recognize the face under the mask, we might fall into the trap of mischief and deception.
What can be worse than confusing our very own selves? Believing it all?
We sit and listen while the record of our thoughts goes wild as presented by Wax Tailor, and perhaps we reach for a glass of drink to accompany our entertainment experience:
Observing reactions and assessing cause and effect phenomenons, the empathetic kinds tend to take the fault to their heart. Searching for the error within becomes a daily routine, and during this process, it is easy to get lost. Our environment and ourselves stress the importance of being happy at a must and thrive to achieve this pinned goal above all. Along with this emphasized picture in our heads, we tend to lose connection with reality — and with what — is, currently.
We start to drift towards a whirl, which forms into a sullen and stubborn dance from where escaping is rather tricky.
As we are uncertain beings, never sure of anything we ramble towards our primary point and source — to ourselves — to seek for something to blame.
Whatever was done is done, and recalling comes within a high pitch in our minds. Our ears deafened by the sounds, and our inner and outer perspective on ourselves starts to scoot down on a steep hillside radically. After something falls apart, we kneel down to observe the pieces. What held them together? What kind of glue is needed to repair it? And above all, why do we blame and shame ourselves over something we don’t truly understand?
Is it really the practice we should perform — to swim in the oceans of overthinking?
After all, if we take a deep and steady look at ourselves, our kind is patently horrid. Besides, we have been developed based on an ingenious mutation. How does that sound if not horrifying and brilliant at the same time?
There is absolutely no study on the explanation on everything, on the right words to use and on the right deeds to execute. We are left alone to do what we think is the best in the given situation. Why feel shame then? Isn’t it wholly normal to function imperfectly and swim against the current with blinded eyes?
That is how development becomes possible. To make as many mistakes and misinterpretations as possible. To be able to fight with ourselves, and come out as conquerors from the battlefield. Our minds hurt along with our body but what comes after a scar? The body adapts, the cells attend their duties and the skin hardens preparing for a next possible strike. Isn’t that after all, wonderful?
Exactly for this very reason, we might be able to listen to Lou Reed and agree with him, that indeed, this is a Perfect Day with its horror, blood, and joy. A perfectly, tenderly stirred madness, our life is. Why not embrace it then?
As the last words of the song echo in our minds ‘You’re going to reap just what you sow’ allows that one to slip into a comfortable state of mind, knowing — that we did the absolute best, we could have done.