Here's the funny
thing.
I woke up at 1:43
this morning.
I went straight to
pee.
I drank two cups of
water.
I returned to bed and
suddenly felt the urge to write.
Lying on my bed, and armed with my Samsung
Note 2 in both hands, I started tapping the miniature keyboard.
Picture this, two
nervous thumbs busy putting words together like stringing beads into a long
dangling thread that stretches out to nowhere.
One word at a time,
in a thread of uncharted thought, I wrote as if in a deep spell.
Subject matter?
I decided to write
about nothing. Yes, you heard me.
I was writing with no
aim in mind.
It was a lazy,
mindless stroll in the cerebral blank-space of my mind.
Tabula rasa was very much the theme.
I decided to catch
the first thought that materializes in my half-groggy head.
Like a retiree on fly
fishing, I threw the bait far and wide, and
at an angle, and then just before it struck the water surface of impromptu
thoughts, I wickedly tarik it back to
taunt the fishes to bite the bait.
I was
literally
standing out there on a limb angling for ideas.
Then, just when all
seemed too calm and lost, the first thought came in on an innocent swim by and
bit the bait.
My busy thumbs then
reeled in the catch and I completed a string of beads about the stillness of
the night.
Yes, there is
much to write about concerning the stillness of the night.
If you ever bothered
to pay attention, and let your imagination take a stab in the dark, the
stillness of the night as a literature of interest can lead you
into the
enchanted garden of revealing quietness.
So, unbidden, I took
the uncharted plunge into nothingness.
I imagined the
thousands of people, young and old, sleeping in unscripted positions, sprawling
out on all limbs, and stretching in sports-like freeze-frames.
I imagined one child
no older than six frozen in a position of a marathoner in her flowery pjs.
I imagined another
child, this time a teenager, planking facedown, with his body straightened like
an icicle pop.
Then another
freeze-
frame emerged in my mind.
It was a couple half
naked wrestling on the bed in a heated embrace.
But their faces
registered no obvious aggression.
One was smiling, she
appeared triumphant, and the other had his mouth drooling as if grasping for
air.
Now the winner of
that bedside wrestling match was readily discernible.
Still under the covers
of nocturnal stillness, I imagined a strange old man struggling in his bed.
He was providing me
with a series of quick motion shots in successive
time intervals.
One moment he
appeared to be drowning in an ocean, hands flailing and legs kicking wildly.
In another moment he
appeared to be performing some sort of yoga breathing exercises, with palms
meeting above head and then in between his thighs.
Still another moment
caught him in a supine position, with one hand on his forehead and the other on
his side.
He appeared to be
contemplating the next move in a grandmaster chess competition.
At this time, I
glanced at my
bedroom clock and I realized an hour had already passed since I
first started writing.
I had been lying on
my bed, half awake, writing for an hour with my two busy thumbs pounding away
on my Samsung Note 2, like kneading dough with just two active fat digits.
Just when I was about
to rest those thumbs and call it a night or morning, another idea bit the bait.
It was wholly
unexpected.
The catch was a red
herring.
My mind went on an
off-tangent expedition into empty open space and the earth
gradually came into
full Technicolor view.
From my vantage
point, I soaked up the most amazing sight.
I saw the dichotomy
of night and day, activity and inactivity, sleep and awakeness, in a
harmonizing contrast revealing how the earth was divided.
It was an amazing
sight because I imagined the peopled earth running an unrelenting baton race in
a 2 x 400 meters global relay.
And the transferring
of the baton of humanity was at the prime meridian point between the
two
hemispheres just before the night passes over to the day and the day passes
over to the night.
It was a relay of
wondrous metaphorical cooperation as the setting sun dutifully passes the baton
over to the early dawn to keep the human race going.
I imagined that this
race has been going on and on for millenniums and it had never stopped; not
even for a water break.
Humanity has in fact
been running faithfully, building civilization from scratch, and taking one
small rotational degree at a time.
I further
imagined
that this race would go on into the future as its neighboring planets cheer
brother earth on, celebrating every baton transfer, and admiring from their
lonely interstellar orbit the shared destiny between the racing populations of
the two hemispheric halves.
At this inflective
point, I quietly mused,
"Has
humanity ever considered this amazing picture from the floating space where I
am standing?
If they had, and if they were as inspired as I am feeling
right
now, that is, the incredible affinity and cooperation between the people on
earth regardless of race, language, and religion, will they still view each
other as different and with contempt?
Or will they view each other as one
whole, indivisible and united, working or running towards a common goal, and
living as a global family?
If so, shouldn't we live in peace and pass on to our
children and their children's children this baton of hope and shared destiny?"
Mm...food for thought I guess.
Now, looking at
the
clock for the second time, another hour had passed, and I think it's really
time for me to retire those fat thumbs.
I recoiled my fishing
rod, kept the bait, took one last look at my catch for the night, and then put
aside my Samsung Note 2, and went to sleep.
My last thought
before I fell into slumber land was, "I
think I'll post this in the morning."
Cheerz.
* Image taken from "www.layoutsparks.com".
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