'May nothing be disturbed in the simplest place you know'
Reading corner Prayer
by Arundhathi Subramanium
May things stay the way they are
in the simplest place you know.
May the shuttered windows
keep the air as cool as bottled jasmine.
May you never forget to listen
to the crumpled whisper of sheets
that mould themselves to your sleeping form.
May the pillows always be silvered
with cat-down and the muted percussion
of a lover’s breath.
May the murmur of the wall clock
continue to decree that your providence
run ten minutes slow.
May nothing be disturbed
in the simplest place you know
for it is here in the foetal hush
that blueprints dissolve
and poems begin,
and faith spreads like the hum of crickets,
faith in a time
when maps shall fade,
nostalgia cease
and the vigil end.
Healing notes
A few sessions ago, my therapist asked me to build practises around my daily life that are nourishing. Somehow the word always felt like a teacher shouting at me. Turns out my nourishing practises are very different from what others call nourishing, or not.
As part of this exercise I built an altar by my bedside. Put a lamp next to it and placed books I love by it. Like the handy set of Rilke poems, the powerful Care Work, my journals, my colouring book.
My bedside has always been messy, Large piles of books, a pile of clothes and sometimes wrappers from the chips/chocolate I ate in bed. I have always been ashamed of this. Recently I began to accept, if not embrace, my messy side in a non angry way. So much of my conditioning has been that clean is good and messy is bad. This of course spills over from my bedside manners to the state of my life. I don't know why I find myself struggling as I hold tightly onto this idea, another binary. I am not saying messy is good?! But can I somehow separate the idea of what my parents expect my house, my room, my life to be from what I want it to be? Ironically you would think at 30 I am capable of this. But the haunting voice in my head that the book pile by my bedside is unforgivable makes me cringe and clean it up.
I have been trying very hard to ensure I forget some of these difficult conditionings and embrace the way I have grown to be. In the process, I found this note on Instagram: 'Your parents don't require front row seats to your growth.' I repeated it to myself over and over. I am mostly not angry with my parents. But repeatedly their voices come up in therapy and life - forcing me to change how I do things. It even forced my therapist to ask me, why I needed them to see I was changed, I was good.
I don't think I have answers to much of this. I just wish growing up I had more narratives of parental relationships being hard, being full of strife and being spaces where we build some traumatic parts. Maybe that's all I want to do with this random note, remind myself some relationships are hard and healing means dealing with them. In an honest way that doesn't have me lying about it to myself or to others. Maybe healing is accepting that I like messes and that's just how I am.
Food experiments
I was finishing up all the pork in my house with this curry! Turns out I loved spicy pork the most!
Tomato Pork Curry
5 pork sausages
200 ml of tomato puree
1 onion
Salt
Pepper
Chilli Powder
Remove the skin from the pork sausages and mash them up. Let it cook for 5-10 minutes minimum. Then add sliced onions to the mix. Let the pork fat cook the onions for another 5 minutes. Finally add the tomato puree. Cover and cook for 5 more minutes.
Finally add salt, pepper and chilli powder (in large quantities) and let the puree reduce. Serve with rice or eat just like that :)
Dear you,
I wish you love and warmth today as I struggle with these endless rains in Hyderabad.
May you find comfort in hot water packs and candles or whatever gives you
comfort. Happy week to you <3
Love, kindness and warmth,
Nidsitis
'I’ve been circling for thousands of years and I still don’t know: Am I a falcon, a storm, or a great song?' - Rainer Maria Rilke