If you haven’t read Siddhartha by Hermann Hesse, you should go read it now. It may derive its plot from certain aspects of Buddhist thought, but it’s much more than that. It digs extremely deep into the human psyche and tries to reason the most basic of human natures such as desire or love.

To me, the book speaks volumes. It has reminded me that all of our suffering is self-inflicted and emerges from within, and trivial, mundane matters are just that. Even though it focuses a lot on the theme of cycles (such as reincarnation), it basically just tells me that one day, everything that has happened to me in this life won’t matter anymore. One day, nothing I cry over or feel pain over will matter at all.

I’ve felt like as the book progresses and we see the progression of Siddhartha towards enlightenment, I have been growing with him. I look back at the pain and suffering I felt in the past year and laugh. I feel like I was so immature, so misguided in thought, and focused on the wrong things. In the end, none of this matters. So I’ve cut away everything that I’ve found detrimental and everything that has only brought me troubles and sadness, because they really don’t matter. 

This carefree feeling is very odd. I’ve never been so content and happy with my life before. I’m definitely not used to it, and I’ve been catching myself having a grin on my face for no particular reason a couple of times now—this just doesn’t seem like the old me. 

This is better.