So, story and pictures time. Bear with me on this. It gets better, as they say.
Years ago, many now thank goodness, I was struck with a depression so deep I never actually thought I would claw my way out. And though I was never suicidal, I would so often wish just to... not exist. I just wanted to fade away, to no longer feel the sadness I thought would never end. It may seem selfish to wish away a life, but that's depression for you, the fucker. It doesn't think like that. It seeks to destroy, not appreciate. I didn't care that life was valuable, worthy, precious. I just wanted it gone.
Nowadays, there are still some days that I think back on those times. But not sad days, happy ones. I look back and think that if that had happened this day could have never occurred. And it seems so crazy, and hopeful and amazing. That I am a person having such a day, when once I wanted all days to end. It's the most beautiful thing, to be so grateful and happy. And alive.
My afternoon at the "Beatles Ashram" was one of these days. It's such a surreal and lovely place, so peaceful and rich with strange history. As I sat with my new friends, letting the sound of the music and the sun wash over me, I realised "This day could have never occurred". And suddenly the day felt more like a miracle than a moment in time. This day could have never occurred. How sad, and how wonderful.
The thing is, there are so many days that could never have occurred. Not because of death, but because of fear, of shyness, of whatever, whatever holds you back. Because you didn't take that chance to do something new, didn't tell someone how you felt, weren't paying attention, didn't say yes. I think of the things I did to make that day exist; got on a plane, smiled at a stranger, asked a new friend to join me on an adventure. How close I could have been to doing none of those things, how scary each one was, in their own way. But I did them and this day occurred. There's the miracle, right there. These days occur.
"Beatle's Ashram", Rishikesh:
xx
