"Four little ducks went out one day
Over the hills and far away.
Mother Duck said "Quack, quack, quack, quack!"
But only three little ducks came back."
Once upon a time, back when life was as straightforward as a small, inexpensive toy inside a milk chocolate shell, I convinced myself that the little duck in the nursery rhyme was lost. I remember singing (somewhat out of tune) to the song playing on the VHS and praying to God (because I still did that back then) to help the little duck find his way home. I remember feeling really scared for the little duck, and there was also a time when I wished I could share a piece of my milk chocolate with him, just so I could make him feel better, just so I could make him feel a little bit less lost. What I didn't realise back then, however, was that maybe, the little duck wanted to get lost. Because maybe, getting lost means finding your way. And so maybe, getting lost was the best thing that could have happened to the little duck; him, and all the other ducks who were brave enough to follow in his waddles.
With that short trip down memory lane and a nursery rhyme that is still very much out of tune, I am pleased to write that today is Life Unplugged's anniversary. If I'm being completely honest though, I'm trying really hard not to get over sentimental over the fact that this blog is now four years old. For one thing, it's a nagging reminder that life is going by rather quickly. Nonetheless, the fact that I still feel the urge to write after so many months, after so many words, could only mean one thing — getting lost means always having something beautiful and exciting to write about. In fact, now I know for sure; getting lost was the best thing that could have happened to that little duck in the nursery rhyme.
And even though life is no nursery rhyme, getting lost is the best thing that could happen to anyone. And so I urge you, I urge to you get lost. I urge you to lose yourself to happiness. Dip your heart in a jar of joy, and if that jar cracks somewhere along the way, I hope you'll find the strength to get a new one. I urge you to fall in love with someone who looks at you like you're the seven colours of the rainbow combined into one. And when you do, remember to hold on tight. I urge you to lose yourself to books and to music. Lose yourself to the words that inspire you, the rhythm that transcends the boundaries of everyday life. Most importantly, I urge you to lose yourself to life. Lose yourself to the beauty that surrounds you, that breathtaking beauty that you often fail to see. Look around you. Is it dark where you are? If it is, I urge you to open yourself to the light, to the magic of colours. Don't succumb to that ounce of darkness. There's a beautiful picture hiding behind the dull colours if you choose to open your eyes. Open your eyes. Be that little duck I used to sing about a long time ago. Lose yourself. It will be the best thing to happen to you this year. Trust me.
Happy New Year!
Over the hills and far away.
Mother Duck said "Quack, quack, quack, quack!"
But only three little ducks came back."
Once upon a time, back when life was as straightforward as a small, inexpensive toy inside a milk chocolate shell, I convinced myself that the little duck in the nursery rhyme was lost. I remember singing (somewhat out of tune) to the song playing on the VHS and praying to God (because I still did that back then) to help the little duck find his way home. I remember feeling really scared for the little duck, and there was also a time when I wished I could share a piece of my milk chocolate with him, just so I could make him feel better, just so I could make him feel a little bit less lost. What I didn't realise back then, however, was that maybe, the little duck wanted to get lost. Because maybe, getting lost means finding your way. And so maybe, getting lost was the best thing that could have happened to the little duck; him, and all the other ducks who were brave enough to follow in his waddles.
* * *
With that short trip down memory lane and a nursery rhyme that is still very much out of tune, I am pleased to write that today is Life Unplugged's anniversary. If I'm being completely honest though, I'm trying really hard not to get over sentimental over the fact that this blog is now four years old. For one thing, it's a nagging reminder that life is going by rather quickly. Nonetheless, the fact that I still feel the urge to write after so many months, after so many words, could only mean one thing — getting lost means always having something beautiful and exciting to write about. In fact, now I know for sure; getting lost was the best thing that could have happened to that little duck in the nursery rhyme.
And even though life is no nursery rhyme, getting lost is the best thing that could happen to anyone. And so I urge you, I urge to you get lost. I urge you to lose yourself to happiness. Dip your heart in a jar of joy, and if that jar cracks somewhere along the way, I hope you'll find the strength to get a new one. I urge you to fall in love with someone who looks at you like you're the seven colours of the rainbow combined into one. And when you do, remember to hold on tight. I urge you to lose yourself to books and to music. Lose yourself to the words that inspire you, the rhythm that transcends the boundaries of everyday life. Most importantly, I urge you to lose yourself to life. Lose yourself to the beauty that surrounds you, that breathtaking beauty that you often fail to see. Look around you. Is it dark where you are? If it is, I urge you to open yourself to the light, to the magic of colours. Don't succumb to that ounce of darkness. There's a beautiful picture hiding behind the dull colours if you choose to open your eyes. Open your eyes. Be that little duck I used to sing about a long time ago. Lose yourself. It will be the best thing to happen to you this year. Trust me.
Happy New Year!