Thought

Letting Go

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This has been a raging debate in my mind for some time now. 

What am I really supposed to be okay with and make peace with? What’s the ultimate formula for a peaceful existence? Is it learning to be okay with uncertainty? Or is chasing absolute certainty with regard to every outcome in life fully justified?

I think chasing absolute certainty can often be a lost cause, because that simply isn’t how life works. Yes, you get what you put out into the world more often than not. But sometimes, life can have other plans. I know it is fairly commonplace for a lot of things in people’s lives to not pan out exactly as they had imagined them to. And as unfair as that may feel sometimes, the key might just be to be okay with that—maybe not immediately, but eventually. 

Learning to embrace or simply live with uncertainty can often be nightmare fuel for the anxious mind. The infinite number of ‘what-if’ scenarios that can come to mind is almost akin to witnessing a multiverse of sadness. It is easy to imagine everything that could possibly go wrong, because most minds are trained to think in that direction.

But maybe there is another approach to making peace with a certain degree of uncertainty. 

Maybe that is to just embrace inevitability. 

Maybe the key is to accept that the way things happen is fairly uncertain in life. To me, just having an inner sense of knowing that everything will work out is what constitutes embracing the inevitable. That sense of knowing, that gut feeling, is ultimately what leads to flow—positive action without unhealthy attachment or expectation. It is where one begins to find that every layer of unfolding, be it ‘good’ or ‘bad’ in the moment, is contributing to one’s highest good in a way one can only possibly see several days, weeks, months, or even years later.

An aversion to accepting a certain degree of uncertainty or embracing inevitability often comes from a sense of urgency driven by fear. Urgency isn’t usually driven by intent. True positive intent values consistency of action, not the immediacy of the desired outcome. 

Maybe it’s all coming together. And maybe not in the way you’ve always imagined or the way anyone else has imagined. And that is okay. Being overly invested in the “how” is a recipe for lifelong disappointment. Much of the universe is beyond our wildest imaginations, and so are most of our lives, and that is exactly what makes the journey as exhilarating as it can be.

War

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He was a man of few words and often of silence – seeking to overcome mountains of doubt.

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Climbing that mountain was a tedious task, one he saw as too much of an ask.

“I am no trekker”, he thought, imagining himself crumbling with the boulders.

“Besides, I would rather go for something suited to amateurs.”

“Someday, I’ll conquer this too. Someday.. ”, he said glancing at the tallest of them all.

“Until then, a good amount of practice on the smaller ones will help.”

Classifying his doubts as the minors and the majors, he cut out a strategy to bring them down one at a time. The minors looked easy with their innocent profiles – profiles that hid all their defiance. Five battles down the line, he realised that underestimating the minors was a mistake. And with that piece of wisdom, came more doubt. The antagonist’s army gained strength with every battle it won. More territory, more weaponry – the stakes were high.

The man’s weapons weren’t made to last –swords of pretense soon gave way. The shields his ego had so carefully built started to crack. He was fighting a losing battle.

He knew he wouldn’t win the war, so an alternative suggestion was accepted –there would be a treaty. Neither the doubt, nor the man would bother the other. That way, they wouldn’t have an opportunity to clash and there’d be no battle in sight.

The treaty went through and the man lived in peace for an entire month. That was until all the chaos in his mind came back to haunt him. He had been betrayed, the treaty violated. Peace, yet again, was a distant dream.

He consulted his cabinet of wisdom in an attempt to find a permanent solution. The ministers had an array of suggestions, but none appealed to him. The parliament lacked a sense of purpose.

So he picked up a pen and set it to paper, attacking his doubts word by word. Some perished, some stayed and a few others absconded – victory increasingly imminent with every letter he wrote.

And on the spur of the moment, a writer was born – fueled by his obsessions, relentless with a passion. This was victory, or so he thought. Doubt’s days were long gone.

Tired of the conflicts his mind so diligently conjured, he took to writing for it would set him free. Instead, it held him down with an inescapable addiction.

He was now a soul that was willingly imprisoned, yet inexplicably free.

 

 

Oh so practical!

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CH

As someone who tends to be overly formal or courteous at times, I would’ve loved to start this post with a few words placed consecutively to form greetings for the beginning of a new calendar year. I would have.. But Cyanide and Happiness have taught me otherwise. After a few seconds of pondering, I had to admit that I agreed to this comic, albeit a tad reluctantly (the optimist in me refuses to die).

Since the start of the new year yesterday, I’ve also come across folks on all forms of social media giving away a ton of flak to other folks who harbor a sense of optimism with regard to a whole new set of months to look forward to. And I can’t help but cringe at this bunch of whiny cynics that are going out of their way to dictate how the optimists and the hopefuls should think.

We all have our ways – particularly our own patterns of thinking. And in this case I am often compelled to say, ‘To each their own.’ This is strictly in line with the revered principle of considering each person to be unique. Revered, or as the preceding paragraph seems to suggest, probably not. The real problem here is that it’s revered or dismissed at will – as per our own whimsical conveniences. We suit ourselves without ever sparing a thought for the positivity brigade – an unofficial clan responsible for everything that’s sprightly, bright and ever-so-vibrant about the world. Why pull the others down when they’ve done no wrong? Why shatter their beliefs instead of aiming to build up our own?

The answer to both of those questions is simple. It’s the burning desire to be seen as die-hard pragmatics. Because apart from making sure that you appear sane, a pragmatic approach ensures that upsets are few and far between. It ensures you always know what’s coming your way and how. There’s no guessing and consequently, there’s a truckload of security. But there’s something the pragmatics fail to realise. Or more appropriately, there’s something they’re missing out on.

It’s the power of faith. Of being okay with looking like an idiot at times. Of hope.

To try and awaken people to the fact that a change of calendar won’t significantly alter their lives, is to desperately try and deprive them of hope – which by all means is more evil than pragmatic. People might think they’ve outsmarted the world by doing so, but they haven’t helped anybody here – not the least bit themselves or their own lives.

To put it simply, I think hope should qualify as a fundamental right. We all have a right to hope, a right to look forward to new beginnings, a right to a momentary escape from despair from time to time. And no one can or should take that away from us. NO ONE.

I can’t resist quoting Andy Dufresne from The Shawshank Redemption here:

‘Remember Red, hope is a good thing, maybe the best of things, and no good thing ever dies.’ 

Here’s to hope – to another year that’s full of promises and has plenty to look forward to.

Dilemma

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I am not sure if any of you have been through this, but I have over the years and continue to. Man is a social animal and conversations are a significant part of our lives. You might talk about current affairs, sports, your favourite TV series or movie, careers, family issues or relationship concerns. While most of your conversations would obviously be in the company of a friend, colleague or relative, there are some which are limited to the confines of your minds.

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You wouldn’t usually declare this to anyone around you at that point in time because it might seem irrelevant or just plain crazy. “You need a shrink” is not even the last thing you want them to tell you.

Everybody talks to themselves about something or the other, sometimes in their minds and sometimes, out loud. If you say you don’t, you’re a liar!

(Still in denial? Let me help you change that. Click here)

In my case, the questioning never stops. It’s not that I am fond of disagreeing with widely accepted norms; but my curiosity always gets the better of me. When someone tells me to do a certain thing a certain way just for the heck of it, they can always expect me to counter question, out loud or otherwise.

I have a great fondness with talking to myself. Especially when I travel, this becomes very obvious. I am always looking around and talking to myself about anything and everything I see. It could be anything – hurling abuses at an idiot causing traffic snarls, ‘reviewing’ a hoarding, pitying a dilapidated building or just my views on a tree by the roadside. I don’t make sense half of the time and that’s okay – because I am the only one who’s ‘listening’ which means no one’s going to judge either.

When it comes to social interactions though, I think and analyze everything I am about to say, perhaps to avoid making a fool of myself. But as it often turns out, it doesn’t work – not for me, at least. People often get frustrated by my lack of conversational participation. Those are situations where they would love to know and hear more of me, but I won’t let them for some stupid fear of appearing to be less than a skilled conversationalist.

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I have come to discover that going with the flow can feel a lot better and while I might still make a fool of myself, it could be worth the risk.

Awkward silences have haunted me eternally – those are moments when I am trying to collect myself and utter a few words without any erratic pronunciations resulting from the dread of being murdered for uttering something that could only be regarded as immensely nonsensical. (In other words, I take the proof-reading bit too far) My apologies for all the awkwardness if you have experienced any while I struggled to let out a syllable.

I tend to run out of things to say faster than most people would, and that’s not because I speak too fast.

I tend to contemplate if my utterances would really interest the other person. Now, this will not be the case if I am absolutely, undoubtedly, positively sure that you would be – this applies to formal meetings. I can be great at formal meetings, but the informal ones? well..

(You might read this and wonder why I feel the need to be a designer and not an analyst – for all the knack to be analytic of every single thing). 

I also get fascinated by people who can literally talk all day. That must be some talent. Yes, to me, the ability to make small talk is talent.

I’ve tried defining myself as an introvert, only to realize that I wasn’t doing the definition enough justice. Unlike most introverts, I enjoy going out with people and I could spend a lot of time interacting with the lot that has me company so long as we click. But there are times, when I just need to be by myself.

Ambivert might apply, but it’s not something I fancy. I am trying not to give myself a label.

The advent of this blog has been the beginning of an adventure in many ways. A journey of self-discovery, of getting to know myself a lot better along the way while also giving myself something to look forward to each weekend. With each article, I learn to accept myself (quirks included) a wee bit more.

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And in a journey of self-discovery and acceptance, if this isn’t success, what is?