Strokes of the cosmic artist

We all remember those early years of our lives that are cherished as the most valuable assets of the time when we are learning the skills to take the first steps into real world.

As I have already mentioned, we are born with minds as blank as a canvas. Like an expert artist, something sketches our emotions, reactions, perceptions, thoughts and point of views on this blank sheet and create, in essence, us; our selves.

For most of us, this process of carving our selves begins pretty early. Even before we realize it. When we grow able enough to recognize and pick up things and toddle around the place, when we start exploring the stuff around us, when we start recognizing the sounds and voices, when we start learning the ways of the world around us, when we start experiencing the feelings arising within us as well as the feelings we receive from our surroundings.

The first time we roll off the bed :-),
first time we relish a chocolate,
first time we come to know that an iron is hot,
first time we realize it hurts when something pricks,
first time we understand that speaking is better than crying,
first time we experience what an injection is,

many first times...

Even a young infant, unable to speak yet, is able to understand the feeling of humiliation from a group of people laughing at her funny or stupid act. Understands the warmth of a mother's lap, and knows the difference from others'. Derives pleasure from a particular song playing on the TV. Knows her favorites and so on.

The little one may not remember these virtues of herself after the transition into the conscious life few years later, but each of these incidences that have forged these virtues into her self, happen to add a small stroke on that blank canvas of an evolving self.

Strokes of some cosmic artist on the blank canvas alias human mind, drawing the outlines that will become difficult to alter later. Like the first few strokes of an artist that determine the proportions of the final sketch. No matter how hard the artist tries later, those first ones will always influence the artwork in making. Quite an analogy apart from the fact that an artist can start over!

The world around us, composed of love, affection, care, happiness, elation, fondness, motherhood, luxury, satisfaction, warmth, comfort, and so many soothing feelings also harbors the opposites to these feelings! However, nature works, not by some equations, but by the principles of randomness and permutations and combination. Each one of us experiences the same emotions and feelings but in different proportions, at different times and to different extents.

Let us talk about our little infant that knows her mother's lap from others'. One day she, curious about a colorful toy on the shelf across the bedroom, rolled off the bed to land on the floor! She got immediate attention and caressing today and her belief system was strengthened that help will be on the way when trouble strikes. The situation could have been different, she might had to endure that helplessness a wee bit longer in order to be attended, given if someone was occupied in another room, tuning her belief system into a different accent. Yet another day, she could have been laughed at on the same act!

Again, who is carving this belief system?

Our (cosmic) artist I presume. His random and fine strokes that we receive while we are in that unconscious state of making.

Like our little infant, every one experiencing their first times is subject to receive each of these experiences in varied proportions. The lucky ones receiving more of the the softer touch of the world probably turning them into optimists. And the converse truly follows.

As a result of which, and by the time we grow wise enough to be able to make distinctions between the choices that the world has to offer, many of us already have, and of course unconsciously, developed our own perception about what the world outside is like and what is worth learning and what is not.

Our inclination towards a certain set of traits begin to reflect in our personality. The first strokes of the cosmic artist are at work. The path for the rest of the portrait have been decided and some expert eye can tell what the portrait will look like when completed.

"He will be humble and caring."

"She is always silently observing people."

"He is just like his grandfather. A perfectionist."

"Had we moved to the city earlier, he would have been smoking like his peers."

"She acts more like a boy."

"I cannot relate her to anyone of his family."

"What a kid, got the best of his parents and worst of none."

Some cosmic artist, without our knowledge, permission, or affirmation, has already sketched the outlines of the portrait that we are going to represent few years down the line.

We had no control on this. We were not able to control what is allowed to come into us. We were blank as a sheet... Absolutely vulnerable to the artistic strokes. Having absolutely no control of what we are going to be, what we are being turned into, what we are being subject to and how all this is shaping our final destiny.

AND if we are happy with the person we see in the mirror every morning, then we should be grateful that we had received just the right strokes of the cosmic artist. We have been shaped to head into just the right direction. Just the right doses of all the experiences to our vulnerable self have mutated our thought process to suit something that we enjoy doing today. That we are rewarded for. To react in a certain way to certain situations that we are regarded (or hated) for. To be someone that we ARE today.

Considering my own self, I feel lucky to have been in the right place when my own Self was subject to the strokes of the cosmic artist. I Feel lucky to have received the right amount of exposure to certain aspects of life followed by just the right amount of certain other experiences, continuously for years, until I grew wise enough to direct myself in my own ways; until I was able to gain enough vision of the world outside to find my own path in this Labyrinthian world.

So, whats important here? We all grow up like this and find our ways!

Important is our selves, that we live inside today, the self we do not know what went into its creation before we were not even aware of our very existence. Something conspired every second to form the substrate, building on which, we all find our destinations, realize our ambitions, fulfill our dreams, and provide a meaning to our existence. Important is the conspiracy that went into our creation! The process that we never happen to appreciate. That we never thank God for.

Even in the presence of a mess of randomness, the process of making of our selves was being directed by that something with such a precision that has no real analogy to present.

Like a silky smooth, fair colored feather of a bird being directed to you from a thousand miles away through the winds, storms and breezes only to give you a brief special appearance on a sunny day so that you may gain appreciation of beauty of yet another kind.

Yet another stroke of the cosmic artist. :-)