We all live in the valley but there are moments in our lives when God takes up the mountain. There are those moments when we seem to witness life from a higher plane. Most of the time, they take place on the singular days of our lives, on less momentous occasions, like even on a gorgeous summer morning, or on a cold December breeze.

In those moments, something happens to us. In those moments, we feel inspired and moved but the beauty in our lives and the beauty of the world around us. It gives us a profoundly joyful feeling.

And yet, interwoven with such moments there is the epiphany that we cannot reside in the ethereal space all the time. Sooner or later, we have to come down from the mountain and return back to the valley โ โ€” no one lives up there. But what we can do is build our lives according to the blueprint of what we saw there atop the mountain. To illuminate our lives based on the insights we garnered in the moments of inspiration. To look at the world through the lens of love rather than through the cloud of hate. To carry a heart filled with compassion rather than being dragged down by everyday bitterness.

At some point of our lives, we have transcendentย  moments because we need to see life from the pinnacle of existence rather than from the valley of deprivation. Despite their evanescence, such struggles are not only useful but also essential. They help us to show how we will be rewarded by our continuing struggles and renew our hope.

We may not be able to have those big miraculous moments every day, we must still consider every single day a miracle. We may not have momentous moments every day, but we must choose to still go about our lives. Because such moments looks surprisingly like the world we already inhabit: the city that we live in, the home we already share, the family we already love. I don’t think we have to cross any river to obtain it or defeat enemies conquer it. All we need is to turn this garden we are given and cultivate it with all the love in our hearts.

And as we stand here with our shovels, filling the Earth and removing the weeds, we discover that not only we are already inhabiting paradise, but that paradise is built by everyday, by ordinary people, by you and me.



Photo from google.com



๐“ซ๐“ต๐“ช๐“ฌ๐“ด ๐“ฒ๐“ผ ๐“ฝ๐“ฑ๐“ช๐“ฝ ๐“พ๐“ท๐“ฏ๐“ธ๐“ป๐“ฎ๐“ผ๐“ฎ๐“ฎ๐“ท,
๐“ถ๐“ธ๐“ฌ๐“ด๐“ฒ๐“ท๐“ฐ ๐“ฌ๐“ธ๐“ต๐“ธ๐“ป –
๐“ญ๐“ธ๐“ฎ๐“ผ ๐“ฒ๐“ฝ ๐“ฎ๐“ฟ๐“ฎ๐“ท ๐“ญ๐“ฎ๐“ผ๐“ฎ๐“ป๐“ฟ๐“ฎ ๐“ฝ๐“ธ ๐“ซ๐“ฎ
๐“ฌ๐“ช๐“ต๐“ต๐“ฎ๐“ญ ๐“ช ๐“ฌ๐“ธ๐“ต๐“ธ๐“ป? โ€” ๐“ฒ๐“ฝ ๐“ฑ๐“ช๐“ผ ๐“ท๐“ธ ๐“ธ๐“ฝ๐“ฑ๐“ฎ๐“ป ๐“ผ๐“น๐“ฎ๐“ฌ๐“ฝ๐“ป๐“พ๐“ถ
๐“ช๐“ท๐“ญ ๐“ฒ๐“ฝ ๐“ฑ๐“พ๐“ผ๐“ฑ๐“ฎ๐“ผ ๐“ธ๐“พ๐“ฝ ๐“ช๐“ต๐“ต ๐“ต๐“ฒ๐“ฐ๐“ฑ๐“ฝ.

๐“ซ๐“พ๐“ฝ ๐“ฌ๐“ช๐“ฝ๐“ฌ๐“ฑ ๐“ฒ๐“ฝ ๐“ฒ๐“ท ๐“ฝ๐“ฑ๐“ฎ ๐“ต๐“ฒ๐“ฐ๐“ฑ๐“ฝ ๐“ณ๐“พ๐“ผ๐“ฝ ๐“ป๐“ฒ๐“ฐ๐“ฑ๐“ฝ
๐“ธ๐“ป ๐“ถ๐“ฒ๐” ๐“ฌ๐“ธ๐“ต๐“ธ๐“ป๐“ผ ๐“ฒ๐“ท ๐“ฝ๐“ฑ๐“ฎ ๐“ฎ๐”๐“ช๐“ฌ๐“ฝ ๐”€๐“ช๐”‚
๐“ช๐“ท๐“ญ ๐”‚๐“ธ๐“พโ€™๐“ต๐“ต ๐“ฏ๐“ฒ๐“ท๐“ญ ๐“ผ๐“ธ๐“ถ๐“ฎ ๐”€๐“ช๐”‚
๐“ธ๐“ฏ ๐“ฑ๐“ธ๐“น๐“ฎ โ€” ๐“ฌ๐“ธ๐“ต๐“ธ๐“ป โ€” ๐“ฝ๐“ฑ๐“ฎ ๐“ถ๐“ธ๐“ฝ๐“ฒ๐“ฟ๐“ช๐“ฝ๐“ฒ๐“ธ๐“ท
๐“ฝ๐“ธ ๐“ฐ๐“ธ ๐“ธ๐“ท
๐”€๐“ฒ๐“ฝ๐“ฑ ๐“ต๐“ฒ๐“ฏ๐“ฎ.

Posted in ink

evening sky

i stared up at the moon,

it’s soft yellow light illuminating the surrounding sky,

bringing into contrast the nearby dancing stars.

around me was nothing but a thick blanket of darkness

and i found myself slowly engulfed by it,

as i lay down

on the damp grass

to face the evening sky

Posted in ink


I wake up to sky as blue as ice cream, wilderness encircles me. I am the wind and the trees, my limbs are ice-melted streams. The birds tell of all that they’ve seen, rabbits run around my feet, everything smells like mint and cypress. Here, my tongue is an autumn leaf. I am safe and I am far away. My past can’t touch me here; nothing can. I beling tonthe forest, I am a dryad: unknown and nameless. I fall asleep to the crisp frosty air, the night sky is an aquarium above me, I dive in and become a fish and seep into the stars.

Posted in ink

it’s okay

sometimes, it’s okay to gazeat full moon while on a long bus ride and dream with your eyes open.

sometimes, it’s okay to feel poetic and express your inner self, and it’s okay not to feel lonely or suffer solititude but to be a chatter box.

it’s okay to act like a wild child when someone very close is around or want to just be carefree.

Best of all it’s okay to have dream to be a part of a story or any beautiful book in which you will live happily ever after.

Sometimes, it’s okay to dream like an idiot.

Dream about anything. Dream about life and let the child within you dream. Let it free!

Let it free.

Let it scream and hold for a moment to hear that echoing sound that bounces back from the past.

It’s okay.

It’s okay.


Art by; nintooner

Posted in ink