Stray Notes on a Place Called the Mind...

The mind is its own place... in itself it can create a heaven of a hell or a hell of a heaven...Milton was so right when he said that! I see people with everything they could need and yet complain. A woman I know of, for instance. She is as beautiful as they come with very little to complain, actually speaking. The more I look at her life, the more I wonder what makes her such a compulsive cribber. A doting husband, two beautiful boys, a perfect job and a happy home, a supportive family on both sides...the works. And, yet, this woman perpetually complains! If it's not her in-laws, it is the gardner...I mean, come on, she is looking for something to bow-wow about. In her mental make-up, people are forever scheming, plotting and gossiping. Sometimes, I feel people need this to remind themselves they exist! Maybe, this is where they get their sense of belonging or strength from? Perhaps, the sound of their own voice gives them a high! Or, could it be that their laments give them a sense of feeling alive and busy? Simply put, some people just don't know how to count their blessings. Oh! then there is this woman...she screams, shouts and generally thinks she is the Sun around whom all the planets revolve. She would rather that everyone around her work according to the flavour of her mood of the day...and don't miss the fact that she is ''pious''coz she makes it a point to let the whole world know how she had been to the temple that morning or how she had fasted and the next minute you know she screams her head off at a poor office boy who may have forgotten to say good morning to her! I mean haven't you come across people who feel the need to make an impact with every breath they take? They love it when the ripples of their emotional acts affect someone else. How fragile such people, and utterly sordid their lives, must be. Imagine waking up in the morning and wondering how best to make people take note of you by say, making a startling entry at work or announcing their arrival by plunking down loudly, or running about when you may as well walk, moving about with a look of purpose even if it's a trip to the coffee machine!
Hell or heaven are what we make of it. What! And you thought it was a place?