A letter to my younger self… and maybe yours too.
The other day, my mum sent me a picture of myself as a little girl.
Smiling wide. So full of light. Eyes sparkling, unaware.
And for a few minutes, I just stared at it. Still, silent, somewhere between a smile and a tear.
I don’t know how to explain the feeling…
It was like looking at someone I once was, and yet, someone I’ve never known.
That little girl had no clue what life had in store for her.
No clue how much she’d cry, laugh, break, heal, and question everything within just the first 25 years of being here.
She was a blank canvas. Pure clay. And life… oh, life did what it always does. It molded her, stretched her, softened her, fired her in its heat.
I’ll be 27 this year. And if I try to describe who I am, I feel like I’m grasping at air.
What can I even call “mine”?
This body? Union of my mother and father’s love hehe… nothing permanent about it.
This mind? Everything that ever entered it came from outside … from what I saw, heard, read, felt.
This intellect? It keeps shifting … shaped by age, seasons, people, even the weather some days.
So… what’s left?
What is it that is truly me?
This question has been sitting heavy in my heart.
It follows me in silence.
And I’ve cried, howled, pleaded in front of Baba and Ram — asking, begging — “Tell me who I am!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”
The only answer I’ve received so far is this quiet whisper inside:
“You are the one witnessing all of it.”
“You are the one that hasn’t changed. Not since that picture was taken, not now, not ever.”
And in that moment, I felt no difference between my photo and any other child I see.
Recently, I held a newborn. A friend’s baby, and as I looked into those fresh, curious eyes, I felt the same awe.
Birth. Death.
And everything in between. such a short drama. Such a long illusion.
It’s funny how something so small, a photo from childhood, can stir the deepest of questions.
Sometimes, we don’t need grand events to wake us.
Just a little reminder of the innocence we once were… and the truth we still are underneath all these layers.
So today, this blog isn’t about knowledge.
It’s not even about answers.
It’s just about remembering.
That you were never just a name.
Not a body.
Not a story.
Not even your smile, as precious as it is.
You are the witness. The watcher. The experiencer.
Unchanging. Undisturbed. Infinite.
Maybe you needed to hear this today.
Or maybe, like me, you just needed a little trigger to feel it all again.
— aditea ♡