This new year was crazy.
I spent it knocked out by antibiotics, in bed at 10:30 pm.That evening, I wrote in my journal, talking to my inner child about all the lovely things waiting for us in 2023. The jasmine scented candle was the only reminder to me of the wild yet gentle things in the world. Like a butterfly fluttering over a crashing wave, I felt the magnitude of the beauty of this world only as delicate mist. Doesn’t beat the fact that I was on 650 mg of paracetamol and nearly half that dose of painkillers.
Here are some things I learnt the hard way this year
Ps: I don’t think there’s a non-hard way to truly learn anything.
The only way out is in
A lot of 2022 was spent in desperation, in stress, in a foreboding sense of doom, in a conviction that if I don’t act now something will be lost forever. Running around like a headless chicken, flailing about in no particular direction trying to grab what I thought would nourish me. That sense of finality is always fatal, it kills the part of you that wants to feel connected, the sense of urgency completely washes over your trust in yourself. I was foolish to partake in such brutal violence towards my heart and then blame my heart for not telling me the answer. How could it? I wasn’t even listening to its beat.
Violence, no matter how justified, always leads to more violence. The answer is love. The answer is within. It’s crystal clear. Radical revolution is an act of love at the very core. I want to change myself not because I hate who I am but because I love ourselves enough to change: just like the world. Thich Nhat Hanh was really onto something. Transformation is an internal process, change outside reflects inner work.
No path to happiness
There is no path to happiness, happiness is the path. It is the way, the means by which things are achieved. If I’m not having fun, there’s no point in any of this. Why this grand circus? Certainly, I am meant to laugh and play. This path is obstructed by many things- fear most of all. Here are some ways I reject happiness: When my fear of rejection becomes fear of life, happiness becomes impossible. My past wounds show up and I hold back from happiness, I accept crumbs of joy when the whole feast is right next door. I withdraw from honest connections and hide my true self when I do not pay attention to my wounded inner child. I must heal if I am to really be sustainably happy. A happy person is never mean to anyone else. A happy person knows that scarcity is an illusion. A happy person knows that there is no milestone after which happiness shows itself. There is no achievement after which happiness is deserved.
Gods have not abandoned me.
I need not run away from your family in the name of freedom. My ancestors are with me and my Gods have not abandoned me. Intergenerational spaces can heal me if I approach them with curiosity rather than judgment. I cannot put a label on a person based on words they have said.
Context is necessary, kindness is necessary. I cannot possibly claim to know better in my 22 years of being on this planet, which has changed more in the last 2 decades than perhaps in hundreds of years before that. Blame is a hollow game, one whose players- even if they win- are bound to feel miserable. My parents are not culprits, they are victims of violence too. When I ask my grandmother questions about her life and listen, I honor my lineage, I become open to receiving the wisdom that has always been inside me. My DNA contains information about everything I ever need to know about being alive. I am wiser than I could comprehend with my brain- I just need to come home to myself. I need to listen.
The prison of ideal
Even I could do that, even I could be that. Sure, you could.
The only difference between you and the person that is living the life you’d like to is that they walked the talk. I could wake up at 5. Sure I could. Did I? It’s essential to begin. All or nothing often ends up in nothing.
Thoughts are fine, we all have them. Thinking is what broke me down. Living in the head completely distorts reality and paints a ridiculously wrong picture which I cling onto. When what holds me captive is an extremely colorful picture of ‘what should be’, I am operating out of restlessness, the feeling of inadequacy, the gap between what is and what should be. The monkey mind plays all sorts of tricks to continue to hold the reigns of your life. It will create the prison of idealism and then even the wide blue sky cannot grant us freedom. My mind is only good at being an obedient servant. The moment I let it run the show, anxiety kicks in. I must ask myself who decides what is possible? How do I draw the line between what I can do and what I cannot.
Rest is revolution
Doing, doing and constantly doing will get me nowhere if there is no space for being.
Giving myself permission to do what I want, being in touch with my needs, knowing my desires is what real wealth is made of. I was always taught that the answer is in doing more things. I am slowly learning that overwhelm and burnout cannot be countered by more activity, I need to make space for simply being, to allow myself to ease into a comfortable silence. The resistance is immense, the voices that have labeled rest as unproductive are plenty. I must persist. I must persist in resting. Rest is revolution
Softness of existence
Joy comes despite suffering, comfort is in the room next door- I must get up and knock. There is an indelible softness etched into our daily lives. In a piece of saved chocolate, a ray of sun filtering through the curtains, a question asked earnestly, a universal desire to be loved, to be found out for who I really am, to ask and be granted, to be paid attention to, in making space for love- the world is cotton.
What’s in front of you? This moment, a person to love, a plate of food. That's enough. Rejoice!
Never forget who you are- a celestial being. You will return to the sea soon, where you came from. You are a writer, a storyteller, a performer, a poet, a dancer, a friend, a guide, a beacon of light. Be whatever you want, it doesn't matter. I must remember that in our hearts, there is enough softness for a lifetime. The more cotton I feel, the more cotton I reveal.
Bad news:You are on your own.
Good news:You are on your own.
Absolute personal responsibility.
Nothing is irredeemable. No feeling is final, no action is final, no failure is final, no success is final. I need to give myself credit for what I have done, and celebrate myself. Be humble but not berate myself.
Worrying myself sick over everything I am not doing is a waste of time and energy. I have the absolute agency. How to love myself? Kindness to self. Talking gently to myself. Asking my inner critic to kindly shut the eff up.
If everyone feels isolated, we’ve already found something universal. Human connection is our only hope. The first human must be me.
Surrender and Connection
This year I planned so much. Tried to control how people see me, tried to be something without actually being it. Raging and crying over uncertainty, craving freedom in mistaken ways, misunderstanding what people were saying to me. There is an intelligence greater than me, so great it created all this diversity of life on earth. This intelligence may or may not have a plan for me but I must acknowledge that there are higher spirits at play. My task is merely to be myself and let go.Taking charge is easy, to surrender is infinitely more difficult for me. I have nothing in control so I have nothing to worry about. When I surrender, I am connected. I must have faith that I am held, that the fabric of the cosmos will not let me slip through.
Body is truly a temple
My body loves me. It is working incessantly to keep me alive and healthy. It will not let me die. Every cell in my body works towards one purpose: to make sure life runs through my veins.
My body is a temple. The divine resides in it. Would I dare keep the divine hungry? This instrument I have been given is the greatest gift. I must value my gifts. I must use my gifts well.
This year, music saved me. I knew how to cook. This year, I learnt to make a meal, breakfast in particular. This year, I learnt what a magical shape a circle is, especially if it is made of people. This year, I became a friend to more people than I had in all these years of my life combined. This year, I wrote some of (what I believe to be) my best poetry (so far). This year, I checked out the never-ending buffet of life so that I could choose what I want on my plate. The choice is just a question of priority. We need not pick one thing to be. This year, I discovered new ways of being. I found out this year that in days of deepest despair, my hunger for learning keeps me afloat.
2022 : A year of exploration, overwhelm and discovery
2023: a year of healing, celebration and freedom
~
Moora, the object of all my love. The expansion of myself, the expression of myself. This year, I want to be close to Moora.
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