Truly Lived

بسم الله الرحمن الرحيم

I can report. I can philosophize. I can dream. I can chastise. I can ponder. I can vent. I can ramble. I think ramble is the most suitable word to describe what I'm doing, but I'd like to taste. The same way a momentous touch lingers. An unfinished thought perturbs. A gesture replays. A glance questions and invites. A breath catches. And an eye waters.

In reality, I play. I play with words. I play with thoughts. I play with ideas. I play with sentiments. I play with hopes. But I must live.

What is it to live, if not to taste or to play? To wonder or to believe? It is to know. It is to have certainty despite the abstract. It is to have confidence despite the confusion. It is to affirm truth.

What is truth? To be. To be what was intended for you to be within what is ordained for you. To be is to submit. To submit is to recognize. To recognize is to serve. To serve is to see reality for what it is. This is life.

How many of us want for ourselves what we cannot have? To be taller or shorter, richer or stronger, darker or lighter, wiser and brighter, happier and free. It is endless. 

Is it not enough to want to just live a life worth living, whatever its shape, whatever its direction? In happiness or sadness, with ease or pain, in health or illness, with wealth or poverty? Are they not all the same when the only measures of a life truly lived are patience and gratitude, morality and uprightness, obedience to the One who deserves all loyal servitude, and sincerity?

I wonder about living a life truly lived. It is close, but still so utterly far.