Dear Diary,

Today, something in me changed. It took me almost 60 years to understand what I had been doing wrong. I happened to sit by the porch this afternoon with my thoughts casually; sure, I had occasional visits from the monarch butterflies and song sparrows, mid-day sun, and a light breeze gently passing through my hair, but vastly, it was just me, my mind, and all the incoherent thoughts.

It was scary at first because I could hear my thoughts. Silence is powerful that way; it is honest, earnest, and carefree. Those thoughts began to haunt me, which screamed that now I’m just a 72-year-old grandmother whose entire existence depends on seeing my children and their children happy, knitting them sweaters, and, occasionally, writing lullabies and bedtime stories for the kids in the public library.

But I was patient enough to let those negative mind mumbles pass by; what I discovered later blew my mind. I began to enjoy that solace; it started to comfort me. As I transcended to daydreaming, it reminded me of my childhood, which engulfed me like a warm hug.

Sitting in silence, staring into nothingness, is often treated as a luxury in this world full of hectic confusions and busy facades, but that is a perfect juxtaposition to all my formative years. As a child, daydreaming silently was a cherished indulgence, a favorite sport of my thoughts and imagination. “What did that lead to?” I found myself asking. Those episodes of doing nothing and letting my imagination take over at least a few minutes of the day led to many beautiful bedtime stories, fairytales, and many such creations of mine, which I relay to the kids in the library. Those episodes truly fostered ideas and creativity in me.

After the indulgence of pondering in silence this afternoon, I felt like I had found my secret sauce of happiness again. From now on, my daily routine will consist of cooking, cleaning, eating, going for walks, and daydreaming for at least a few minutes a day. It was just so liberating.

In the end, we are all tiny hamsters running on wheels with so much going on in our lives, but as a septuagenarian, I found my ikigai, which was definitely delayed but not deprived. I’m not just a grandmother who writes lullabies and bedtime stories for the kids in the public library; I’m that creative and imaginative writer who loves writing lullabies and bedtime stories.

Lots of love

Goodnight diary!

Samanvitha Orugant is an avid storyteller who likes narrating stories about people, emotions, and places. She believes our world has innumerable tales, some hidden, some not, but all waiting to be told. She can be reached via email at samanvita.krishna@gmail.com