The tempest of existence whirls relentlessly. An eternal dance before our eyes. And in its wake, we find ourselves ensnared — In a perpetual state of restless yearning. Like lost souls adrift in a stormy sea.
Our modern age, a ceaseless torrent of demands, has nurtured within us an insatiable hunger. A hunger for constant motion. We are consumed by the belief that any action, howsoever trivial, is superior to stillness. This malady of the mind, both captivates and fills me with a sense of foreboding.
Today, action has transformed into its own purpose. And like frenzied creatures — trapped in a labyrinth — we endlessly circle, forever pursuing the next task, the next achievement, the next ephemeral flicker of satisfaction. We have become enslaved to the cult of productivity. The cult of productivity… aah… which measures our worth by the tally of completed tasks and the incessant clamor of notifications that demand our attention.
In our impulsive eagerness to act, we have forsaken the value of reflection. We have forgotten the profound significance of contemplation, of taking a moment to discern the true essence of the problem we face.
A ship we are — caught in a tempest — tossing and turning without a sense of direction. Driven by an impulsive and reckless urge; and compelled to act simply for the sake of action, heedless of the tumultuous sea that engulfs us.
Like prisoners in a gilded cage, we flutter our wings. In perpetual motion. Mistaking movement for progress, action for true accomplishment. We hold busyness in such high regard that, for us, the appearance of productivity holds more importance than genuine substance.
Sigh… what state we live in… We have forgotten the inherent value of stillness, silence, and solitude. Fearful of the empty spaces in our lives, we hurriedly fill them with noise and distractions. We desperately evade the discomfort of introspection. Today, we cannot sit quietly with our thoughts.