Personal Commandments

I enrolled in a 21-day project called "know myself better" by Gretchen Rubin yesterday. There is nothing like introspection to clarify my head and make me feel connected with myself and my space. The first lesson that I received today was to make my personal commandments-overarching principles I would like to live by. It was such a wonderful exercise to do, it felt empowering and yes, I felt happy doing it. My 12 personal commandments:

1. Slow down

2. Let go.

3. Choose to be playful.

4. See beauty everywhere.

5. Calm down.

6. Pause often (meditate)

7. Do yoga today.

8. Kiss your husband today.

9. Write often

10. Take pictures

11. Laugh often

12. Just do it.

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Falling in love In Plain Sight

I have known my husband for 14 years now and we have been married for 8 of those years. It has been quite the journey really from knowing him as this someone who could make butterflies aflutter in my stomach to trusting that he'd be there for me in his quiet strong way when I really need. We have had our moments of complete and utter falling outs too...where I just couldn't or wouldn't connect to him and then after a few hours, a few days, life would just fall in step.

Some would say we are a story of opposites attract. Yin and yang like. I know though that we are alike in many many ways. Yes, yin and yang sounds about right in many ways but we are also birds of a feather. Love though is all that matters in this relationship. We know its there come what may.

Right now I am pregnant (for the second time), 38 weeks...any time now really. All this month I involved myself in this fabulous photography course called In Plain Sight by Catherine Just,  to connect with my dear little unborn baby (click on that link to see how that experience was) and my husband. I know from being a new mother before that connection with your spouse, my spouse takes a back seat for at least 6 months before we feel like one again. I know that my birth plan is one that my husband accepts for me but hopes I chose something that involved stubbing the pain and making the process easier. Because he loves me. I know that my birth plan means that he cannot bear to see me in labor, in pain and will choose, like last time to sit out and fret and worry and tear up when he sees me. I know this. Its the yin and yang thing...it will break my heart that he isn't there being witness to this birthing too, but it will also be okay, because that's just how we function.

So knowing me, knowing us, knowing that our love for each other is very alive, right here, I took up the wonderfully rewarding task of photographing moments when my husband and I kiss everyday. Yes, we kiss everyday and I wanted to store that in the deep recesses of my memory. Our memory. I wanted to remember that yin and yang is our way of life. That what matters is love and staying open in that love.

My husband was totally willing to do this. He wasn't sure why I chose this theme or what i'd do with it, I wasnt sure either but we both went with it and it has been such a joy. It has become our moment of connecting. With a toddler in tow it is hard to find moments of quietness, just the two of us. And now my home is pretty full with family, to help me with the second munchkin on its way. So with this project I made sure we'd be available for some time together before I hit the bed. We ended up having so much fun doing this, just setting up the timer, conversations between the kisses, moments of embrace post picture taking...all of it was worth the exercise!

Then there's are the pictures itself. They depict so much of who we are, our personalities, our joy in coming together, our moments of quietness and togetherness. I am going to treasure this for the rest of my life. Here are some of the pictures I took this month.

                               
                                 

Thirty days of love, thirty days of nurturing simple moments that are of profound importance. What else can a gal ask for. 

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Sitting with pain and fear

Our minds and hearts make it impossible to process tragedy without the use of our life's schemas. We look at  tragedy and wonder what if it was us, what if it was someone we knew... the power of empathy. Cultivating an open and tender heart means that, to look at suffering of others as if we were suffering, to look at others' suffering and know that it really is us, suffering.

Some of us are perhaps like me too. Not only does tragedy, especially ones that take place so close to home shake the inner recesses of my being but also sparks fear. Fear that was buried under the surface because I am in a place of energy conservation right now. Meaning, I perceive, for whatever reasons, that I cannot process current events of my life fully and completely for the time being.

Then a tragedy on the outside provides catharsis and also cuts open all that is buried. I am afraid for my toddler, I am deeply fearful that my decisions are not grounded in well being. I am upset about how bad yesterday went, in tug of wars with people I love, I am upset at my current state of being, for becoming wrapped in something on the outside and so many other things on the inside. I cannot push anything away anymore and I sit with the flood of emotions that come undone. Then I move on to doing things that are pressing, that have to be done, notes to be written, exams to be studied for, baby to be loved and I come back again to the flood of emotions.

Truth is, our minds and hearts wont always be open like this, our automatic responses of survival deems that we suffer, we move on, in whatever way we deem fit. But I suppose what my body and mind asks of me now is to do whichever, fully and entirely.


{Edited to add this note on 26th April 2013: it was too hard for me to talk about what I really was alluding to when I wrote this piece but now with some time lapsed I feel I can clarify...On 20th April New Delhi reported the rape of a five year old girl child. The news was all over every newspaper. I usually dont look at the newspaper but that morning I did and I was shocked beyond words to see this news thrown all over my consciousness. This post was my way of processing my shock, grief and fear there after.}

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Where to from here?

Where to from here?

Is this the world I want to live in, she wondered. Is this the kind of life she wanted to lead? She wasn't sure. Somehow things just flowed into right now. They just unfolded the way seasons quietly open up into the other. She didn't mind it, but she did wonder if she could turn it into an intentional journey, shedding unwanted burden,and people along the way. And doing more of what she guessed she would like.

She was often told that life's irksome aspects held wisdom and truth about self. She wanted to accept that and sit with the irksome so that she could open her heart out to it. All she could do was, however, learn that she had strong likes and dislikes about a variety of things, that the irksome things were things she just didn't like, period. Why didn't she like some things and some people? Did it mirror a part of her she did not accept yet? Maybe, but do we ever fully love and accept ourselves? Is that even recommended?

Looking out the window, she stills during the moments of watching yellow, dried leaves float down onto the ground. She stills at the sight of light shining upon the naked tree while creating a shadow all around it. Gosh the vagrant mind, never settling into anything important and always wondering what to take seriously.

She often contemplated about where it was all going, not that it took her anywhere. She always wanted to be more driven, passionate and meaningful and she was able to be all that in bursts and flows. She knew that accepting what is passively always brought her back into an ebb. Daily life ordinary dissociation, she said to herself and accepted it as acceptable. Sometimes, there is no better way to live through a situation than to just live through it. Hopefully, action will present itself. It always does. Such is life, she sighed, with lifts into aha's coming ever so unexpectedly, perhaps when we open up in ways that defies logic or explanations.

As for now, she waits and watches her life unfurl, depressing her and causing joy, her life, this life. Expressing strong dislikes and accepting some with a heavy heart. Yes, she will push and pull pain and pleasure and there is no other way out till the heart is ready, is there?

---------------

For those new to this third person narrative, there is a thread present in my blog that has stories in the third person narrative. This is just a part of that. I write in this form when a certain feeling dawns in me, its a feeling before the dawn of some clarity, that is what I have observed. For more stories on third person narratives on this blog click here, here, and here.




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The Desire to be Seen

I cannot think of myself as doing any other work than the one I am doing right now. And days like today just reiterate my love for helping people with the pain and suffering brought about by emotional, mental and developmental challenges.

I am working with this four year old child with severe motor problems he is also on the Autism spectrum. He is always glad to see me and sit with me to play, that itself melts my heart and makes me fall in love with him all over again every day. Today, he gave me such a graceful lesson in perseverance. With a spoon in hand, he held it in his fist and picked up a bead from a basket full of beads, and kept doing it. Imagine a kid with severe coordination problems holding a spoon with his fist and trying to pick up round beads. It is no simple feat and this little boy was clearly struggling. He loves his spoon and grabs it every time he comes into our work space. He puts it in his mouth and plays symbolically, feeding me, his mother and himself.  I wondered if his love for the spoon could go further. So, when he came in today I oriented him to a bowl full of beads and helped him pick each bead with his spoon and bring it close to his mouth and then toss it in another bowl.

Once he understood what I wanted him to do, he promptly pushed my hand away and refrained me from helping him at all (on and off I would just help him place his spoon at an angle that was easy for scooping), he then went on and on trying. There was sheer determination and one-minded focus in his face and his actions. As his helper I was getting frustrated for him, I wanted to help him by placing the bead on his spoon. I sat there watching my frustration and his confidence. He kept trying for over half hour, sometimes he would do brilliantly by scooping up a bead and bringing it close to his mouth and then tossing it into another bowl (and beam at me with pride) and at other times he would miserably fail but would just go right back to trying.

As I sat there, awed at his determination to do it by himself, and awed even more at his patience and perseverance I had to bow deeply to this graceful lesson in courage. There was something else too. After a half hour of play with this little man, another one walked in, he did not want to sit, was overflowing with energy, hyperactive actually. He screamed and yelled and just wanted to run around while his parent yanked him and demanded that he sit.  But I invited the parent to sit while we ran around. We played ball and climbed up chairs and stools while continuing to play ball. After an entire 15 minutes of activity done his way, he opened up to what I asked him to do. We played together naming animals and responding appropriately to the noises each animal would make. We played puzzles and 15 minutes down, he was ready to leave, as was I.

These two interactions today got me thinking about the desire to be seen. There is something about the desire to be seen, the desire to be understood. When we feel that we are seen, heard by someone, when we feel we are respected and accepted for who we are, when we can be supported in whatever way we need, we begin to blossom and grow.  The desire to be seen, respected and supported runs through us all as children and this desire when affirmed opens up so many new possibilities.  

The parents of these children that I see desire this for their children too and when they see that someone else is willing to pay them attention, respect and support they promptly give it to themselves and their children. I am not sure there is anything else in the world that engenders love within than this opportunity to listen, respect and support someone else.  Don’t you think?              

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Love notes

There is no greater joy than experiencing love. I have become so busy lately that I find little time for much else than what is to be done in the right now. But love, I have every minute of everyday for it.Today is a special day, so I acknowledge in writing. I am grateful for this love I have in my life. Love for my baby, love for my husband, love for my parents, for Anika's other caregivers and love for work.

love notes: A page from my journal

I feel so overwhelmed as I write this. Let me give you context. I met my husband on this same day, thirteen years ago, and this morning, he had to remind me of it. I have made an annual exercise in forgetting these days but my husband and I know that it is because my hands are full with the colors of our present moment.

As I linger around, trying to generate more material to publish this post, I smile and know that's all I have to say for now. Here's to love in your life. Take a moment, if you will, to acknowledge it in any which way you feel before you move on.

P.S: Happy Independence Day!

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To wait is a good thing

I dread change. Anything that I am not prepared for, I dread. I have however begun to learn that I don't have to be prepared. For anything. Put another way, I'm learning that it is wise to be prepared for almost anything. Most often what I dread is the hiatus, the wait between where I am and where I will be going due to some changes that are impending. The wait is a nag. But not always. At least that's what nature implores of us.

It is time for a season change, in my part of the world. We are moving from the season of succulent mangoes to steaming hot corn cobs, summer to monsoon, ah! blissful monsoon. Right now though, is the waiting period. The time when the air gets humid, the sweat trickles, and the wind stills. Today was one such day. And yet, it was such a feast to the eyes. Today, mother nature taught me that where I am now is perfect as it is. Beautiful and humid, colorful and hot. The brilliant blue of the skies with the touch of fluffy white cumulus, the cobalt blue lake and the dance between sunshine and shade, it was splendid all the way. Here's proof:

The time of wait is beautiful

Silver Lining and things

The skies teasing the parched greens

Lesson learnt: To wait is a good thing, its a great thing. All you need to do is bring your mind to the right now to enjoy it. 

Its all about working together

Lately I've been spending a lot of time in the children's park, taking Anika along and listening in on the conversations and games that children play. Sometimes it reminds me of my childhood-the bossing around, the little new inventions and bickering and the laughter. Sometimes it reminds me of my adulthood, my right now, and how childhood is really a miniature version of adulthood-without the heavy ego trips, the massive hatred, the stressful competition and all.

Today I was listening in on the conversation between two teams-the boys and the girls in the park. It was truly a lesson in conflict resolution and couples therapy for me. I also came to believe that all we really want (adults and children, alike) is to cooperate and share resources. Here's what transpired:

(B= Boys; G= Girls, duh. P= Parent; we also had an other adult bystander ( a parent) who was roped in for conflict resolution)

One B to P : Uncle, look at these girls, they are calling us Buffaloes, apparently we are B for Boys and B for Buffaloes. 

P: Looking at the girls askance. 

G (almost all together):  No uncle, that's not true, they are calling us worse names. G for Garbage, G for Gorillas, G for Galeej (dirty in Hyderabadi Hindi).

P: (Quiet)

One B (Apparently, the group leader of sorts): No uncle, they didn't want us to play on the swing, they kept wanting us to go away. So I told them they can have the swing, the merry-go-round and the basketball stand and we get to keep just the slide. See I gave them three things and us boys, just have the slide.

G: We never asked for it. You were the one who gave it to us. Why are you complaining now? 

B: (I think he was surprised that this was true! That he in fact separated the whole group into two while he also really just wanted to play on the girls side as well, or may be not I dont know but) oh well, you know what then? I am going to come to your side and play, lets see what you do.

G: You can come of course (getting up from the swing) and we will go play on swing. 

P: (sort of as a passing remark and a conclusion) you all play together, if you fight then I will throw you all out of the park. (winking at me)

And in just a matter of minutes all of them were on the slide, taking turns to go down the slide, giving up that swing (the cause for all trouble) to little one's like Anika and her mommy. 

All they wanted was to be friends, cooperate and get a turn at the slide, one person at a time. As adults we forget that so often.

There's always time for silly ladies who want to take a picture when they are busy running around. A time of stillness, enjoying the company and the game. 

It's all really about cooperation and working together. 

If all of life is a game then why not just be like children? 

Leisure ~ William Henry Davies

This evening was beautiful. I loved the storm-like wind coursing though these sky high apartments, I loved watching the really hard wind forcing the pool of water, in the swimming pool outside, to dance. I loved putting on my BabyBjorn and taking my little one out to the play ground to feel the wind literally move us. I also loved visiting an aunt who has the most amazing little backyard with one of those quaint little swings, and I loved sitting with Anika there, just swinging for a while. It reminded me of this profound and beautiful poem by William Davies I read many many years ago and looked it up. It's such a delight to revel in the beauty of nature. I hope you enjoy this poem as much as I do.

Titled: Reminiscing Childhood

What is this life if, full of care,
We have no time to stand and stare.

No time to stand beneath the boughs

And stare as long as sheep or cows.

No time to see, when woods we pass,
Where squirrels hide their nuts in grass.

No time to see, in broad daylight,
Streams full of stars, like skies at night.

No time to turn at Beauty's glance,
And watch her feet, how they can dance.

No time to wait till her mouth can
Enrich that smile her eyes began.

A poor life this is if, full of care,
We have no time to stand and stare. 

~William Henry Davies

The Joys of a Sunday

After two very difficult weeks I stepped into a Sunday that was perfect. What made it perfect? The small things, really. Like:

Taking time to light the lamp in my pooja room- a minute in mindfulness for me.

The busybee antics that I love.Look at her, reading her wet wipe cover upside down! 

The fresh veggies my husband cut for breakfast, reminding me to stop and breathe- Feel grateful for his role on Sunday mornings and almost all other mornings.

My little one's empty breakfast plate that made me do a little dance. It's not many times that we get a plate empty, now that she's learning she has a right to tasty food, and tasty food only.

Then there was the gym time, nap time, dinner and finally a quite house and time to look back, look ahead and look at right now. A good Sunday indeed.

What is your recipe for a perfect Sunday?

Wordless Wednesday: Seriously??

Maligadu-Telugu Movie Banner all over Begumpet Flyover

There are no words really. This poster really makes me all tongue tied and shocked and angry. But what is anger if not directed into healthy discussion. What do you think it says about the relationship between a man and a woman? 

The Good in me and the Good in you

My dear friend at Towards Harmony tagged me in her post Blogging Highlights which requires that as a nominated blogger I list specific blog posts that I wrote over my blogging years that come under certain categories. Before I get to reliving and writing about the "good in me"/the best of Between Life's Doings from all my four year's of blogging let me just say, I am so pleased that she tagged me, thanks babe.

So, I have been blogging for over four years! I started out one day when I realized that I found my inner voice after months of graduate school, psychoanalysis, mindfulness, yoga,and living by myself. I started out so I could crystallize my voice, become more aware of myself and life around me. My readers were some of my closest friends and my parents. That's it.  I was happy. I wrote because something within made me. Now though, after years of writing like that, I finally got more readers, thanks to Towards Harmony for showing how much more a blog can do. She showed me the way-with Indiblogger and by being such an avid blogger herself, and me, having the time I do now, with a year's break and all, got to writing more and meeting/reading more bloggers.

There are some rules for this game apparently, so when I do tag you read the rules and go on to write and tag but before that let me write about the categories in which a variety of my blog posts sit (because that's more interesting than the rules, see):

Category 1: Your most beautiful post:  In the first year of blogging, I was writing a bit of fiction, and I wrote Taking home with me then. It was a fictional piece but it was at the same time very real viscerally ( for me). In the same category, written with love and clarity was the post on Letting Go.

Category 2:  Your most popular post: My post about birthing Anika called Discovering miracles received the MOST readers of all time, so says Google Analytics.

Category 3: Your most controversial post: Hmm.. I don't know about this. I am not so sure I have a controversial post really. But I did get a sort of angry comment on this post Casteism does not exist in today's India. I wonder if that makes it controversial.You decide.

Category 4: My most helpful post: I think that my most popular post was the most helpful one because of the topic it dealt with.  But I have a whole section on mental health, and spirituality that I would like to believe helps. Anyway, from the rankings it seems like Money Matters in marriage and The emotional side of getting pregnant: The Infertility Experience, which was a guest post at a friend and psychologist's blog and were helpful.

Category 5: A post whose success surprised you: In my first year of blogging, I was passionate about the world around me, how wonderful it was and how ridden with angst I was, that year there were several bombings in India and internationally too and The Great Indian Love got many of my friends and family to read it. I think the heart of what I talk about in it still rings true today.

Category 6: A post you feel didn't get the attention it deserved:  I often struggle with my feelings of separation and loneliness, at one such time writing Being a wild lavender really moved me from pain to joy and I would just like more people to read it.

Category 7: A post that I am most proud of: Ok, I am most proud of my Spiritual diet and my spiritual diaries. It helped me start a spiritual practice that helps me stay mindful and compassionate with myself and the people around me. I am so glad I did it.

So there! Now my turn to nominate/ tag bloggers that I love reading, I want to read  "the good in you"/the best of your blog posts under the categories that will be mentioned in the rules below, first the tag:

1. Subho's Jejune Diet: Subho is a writer I have recently started following. He is one of the most versatile writers I know and has written some of my favorite posts like Occupy your true self-Reclaiming our humanness. I would love for him to pick some of his favorites for his readers.

2. My Baby Sleeping Guide: Is a wonderfully resourceful blog about getting your baby to sleep better. It is also about other things baby related. I've learnt so much from Rachel at MBSG and would love for her to give us her favorites.

3. The Domestic Yogi: This is a blog I have been following for over a year now, its all I aspire to be-mindful, compassionate and grounded. I hardly ever comment on her blog, I am glad this post came along, this is my chance to get to be a more appreciative person. As she puts it, her blog is about "one mom's struggles to serve her family, stay centered and honor a yogi-inspired lifestyle in her multi-faceted spiritual quest". I am hoping she would grace us with some of her best posts too.

4. Motherhood WTF? is a hilarious and honest writer I have ever come across. She is funny, real, loving and in touch with life as it comes. I would love for her to give her readers the best of Motherhood WTF.

5. Wellness Matters: A wonderful friend and a psychotherapist in Kolkata who loves to write about all things wellness. I would love for her to get back to writing more and here's a tag that will hopefully do that :-)

6. Just Random: Sinduja is a blogger I've recently started following.She has been blogging for a while as well. I would love to hear her highlights and read the best of Just Random before she shuts shop. Do indulge me, pretty please?

I do hope you enjoy doing it as much as I did. It really was a wonderful way for me to get in touch with everything I have written and see how I have grown from then to now.

Lastly, the rules for those who are nominated:

1) Blogger is nominated to take part

2) Blogger publishes his/her 7 links on his/her blog – 1 link for each category. The links are:

– Your most beautiful post

– Your most popular post

– Your most controversial post

– Your most helpful post

– A post whose success surprised you

– A post you feel didn’t get the attention it deserved

– The post that you are most proud of

3) Blogger nominates up to 5 or more bloggers to take part.

4) These bloggers publish their 7 links and nominate another 5 more bloggers

Enjoy!

Scratching open the idiot

Today I was put on the spot to say something, I felt like my friendship with this particular person depended on saying the right thing, not the honest thing but the right thing. I wanted to sound "right", I wanted to sound like I have it all together. Like I am not actually a pot of brewing emotions but a sane wise person who's got it all together. This person always brings out that side of me-the blabbering monkey who doesn't have it together but hopes to one day side. The side that I dislike in me but have a whole pie of it right there in conversations with her. I sound completely lame, and there is usually a drought in my mouth, I am at a loss of words that sound superfluous and together. But really what is one supposed to say when someone after almost seven months asks you "How is motherhood?" other than "its brilliant!" but not me, I want to sound all amazing and wonderful and terse and all-figured-out when this person talks to me (no that's not what she asked to put me on the spot).

Does everyone have these kind of people in their lives? The ones who sound all eloquent and patronizing leaving others feeling like fumbling fools who don't even know what to say about their own lives and their own feelings? Anyway, during this particular conversation with this person, I felt put on spot and when I did feel that I could sense my heart beat a little faster, my hands shake a little and my words becoming gibberish. I felt like it was some kind of test with the telly host holding a big red buzzer waiting to beep me out of the game show. The honest  part of me was asleep. So I used my memory of what honest feels like to answer to what she asked and obviously it didn't come out as put-together as I would have liked.

After my conversation with her, as is usual, I came up with some very intelligent, and even witty and insightful things to say and wanted to memorize that for the next time she throws a question up my alley. So that's what I figured out today. I am not at all authentic with this person. She brings out the confusing, inarticulate idiot in me and she makes me jealous with her eloquent speech and patronizing ways. Every time we talk, meet or exchange emails I have a shield up. I protect my "soft spot" so to speak. I try to protect the confused, inarticulate, honest, broken, angry, unmindful, silly, real me. I also realized that I have an agenda with her- to appear perfect. To appear smart, strong, mindful, amazing and power puff like.

I often try to stay away from people who scratch open the darkness in me. Well, you cant avoid the husband, the kid, the parents, sister and the best friends-when they scratch it's okay. But these acquaintances, these "friendly" people who bring out the demons, not so much. But you know what, with some patience with myself I've begun to learn to invite the deadly into my life. So I am calling her for lunch so I can show her this real, inarticulate, honest, unmindful, silly, confused me. So I can show to myself that I am all this not just within my "circle of trust" but with everybody else too. Just so you were wondering, I am very inarticulate, very broken, very stupid, very dense, very dumb, very unmindful and very wrong.

Getting up front and center

It makes no sense why I am angry. I am actually indignant. Honestly, even indignation doesn't make sense. Anger is such a limbic response that using the reasoning mind to understand it is of no use. So I watch it for what it is. That boiling heat in my chest, the throbbing pulse in my temple and that shallow breath, heavy and hot. I am grateful for the quiet around me. I am glad to be alone to just watch it instead of hurl it on someone else.

A waterfall or a meandering stream?

Streams that meander down the mountains turn into a waterfall or a slight sliver depending on the mountains that create it. They are made of the mountain, they come from the mountain and yet look different depending on the season. Thus is emotion. It is what the mind makes of it. As I watch my anger it finds a comfortable place within and sits there, floating about, while I move on to other things. I sit with my little one while she plays with her toys, placing one thing after another, in increasing size, into her mouth.

Today, my internal world seems calm, even with anger present somewhere within. That wave of loneliness that had come a few days ago has also found a still pool to sit in. I can't say the same for yesterday and the day before, when I tried to distract, occupy and push myself away from the spate of emotions that seem so natural today. The quality of emotions is such, when you get a little distance from yourself and your overwhelming emotion you realize its not permanent. It might leave behind sadness with its passing-another transitory yet available emotion, or joy depending on what the mind makes of it. But you know, this time around, its was not about getting a little distance from the emotion. It was not about letting it pass on by, not about letting go.

I was angry and I let myself be angry without lashing out on anyone. I was lonely and I didn't jump into conversations, books, or the television, or even my thoughts. Not for long but for long enough to let my monkey mind shift perspectives. It was enough to get my mind to befriend these uncomfortable emotions that I push away always. It is not about just happiness always is it? Nor is it about comfort. It is about being authentic in the experience of now, without suffering or at least by being aware of the suffering that comes from wanting only this and not that.

So this time around it was about getting up front and center with the overwhelming emotion. Yes, you are here. Yes, I feel you. Yes, I am grateful for your presence, you need a vehicle, a form and a guise, but I see you for who you are. Yes, you can stay. Yes, you can burn in my ear, heat up my chest and make me want to hurl you at another. Yes, you can stay while I keep on watching you for what you are. Just watching you, watching you.

Book Review: Chicken Soup for the Indian Soul: Teens Talk, Growing Up

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The last time I picked up a Chicken Soup series was when i was eighteen I think.It was a time when I was in love, had some of the most amazing friends and was at wits end with my folks (on and off), I took to love stories and stories of friendship, unrequited love, parental struggles and so forth like fish to water.

I was really looking for some catharsis again. If you are/have been where I am now in my life, you might understand. But when life runs past you and when you feel haggard you want to sit and take stock and so I chose the Chicken Soup for the Indian Soul: Teens Talk, Growing Up for review. When I was a teenager, the Indian Soul series hadn't been out, so I empathized and cried along with the American Soul, sometimes understanding fully while at other times not sure what was going on.

The stories in this book, like most Chicken Soup books, focus on some of the many struggles and triumphs teenagers go through.  It is a collection of 101 different stories and costs just Rs. 195.

For me the book helped acknowledge some of the things I took for granted about myself and others in my life-like the turnaround inspiration and motivation to pass board exam after consistent failure in school, or like my love for psychology or my mothers ever available presence in my life even after mad fights.  As a new parent I think the section on Family Ties gave me some amazing pointers of how to be there for my little one.

The psychologist in me however, was left wanting more emotional expression from these stories. I wanted to delve deeper into the lives of these writers and ask them more questions about their feelings before they were done writing. So the first thing that struck me about these initial stories were that maybe the writers could have delved deeper into their angst and struggles-that's what makes for good catharsis doesn't it?

That could have been me in that jar

As I leafed through the stories though, I realized how beautiful they were, each uniquely representing life around us. I realized that it was in that simple and readable writing; in that simple, routine school-home-friendship-studies lives that we discover who we are.

Stories of teenagers learning to cook in the absence of their parents, learning to win the Gold Medal internationally with some very wise words from their coach, etc are what makes them who they are. There were stories of real struggles that inspire. Like teenagers learning to navigate anorexia, obesity, death and diabetes, only to become stronger, more positive and resilient.

But what about teenagers exploring drugs, teenagers navigating love and sex, questioning their identities, searching for their biological parents? I have to say, I felt like there were a few missing aspects.

Teenage is a time where you have crushes all over the place. You fall in love-unrequited or otherwise and you tread the path most of the time by hiding it from your folks, at least that's how it was in my time. I was wondering if that had changed. If parents were open enough to allow kids to date, to go out with their friends and get home by curfew. This was not really explored in this book and I thought this was such a loss. There was a story or two about love gone sour and it was signed "anonymous". That got me thinking about the kind of society we live in. Are we still unwilling to accept that kids will have "feelings" for the opposite sex. That they will want to perhaps hold hands when they go out for movies and that they will be willing to share this with their parents if they were not reprimanded for their feelings?  I don't know. Maybe some parents are realizing this while some are still stuck in "Qayamat se Qayamat" days, I wish that this book explored that.

Overall, though, some stories did make me cry in empathy, sadness, and happiness while others made me think about my own life back then. As a teenager, I was often invested on the outside, like most teenagers. What the world thought of me, what I thought the world thought of me, how I looked, how many friends I had, what to wear, what to eat, etc and this focus on the outside often muffled my voice. Even now, as I think about my teenage it is hard for me to make sense of it than as a  fleeting attempt to be an adult. The myriad stories in this book is an attempt to change that. It shifts a teenager's ever curious mind within-to the world of emotions, thoughts and ideas to make them a whole individual. However, I close the book and this review with this feeling that it is not the whole picture of today's teenager. Read the book and let me know what you think!


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Making Space for Pain

I know this boulder sitting on my chest only too well. And why not? I see it once a fortnight, give or take. Its like meeting an estranged someone from the past. Never comfortable ever queasy, you want to bolt but here you are sitting in the same theater watching the same movie you bought tickets for.

The feeling of complete desolation washes over me. In an effort to switch mind states I put on my running shoes and hit the asphalt. Can I pulverize this boulder just by running? I don't know but I want to give it a try. The background is a blur, its just me and the road and that stray mongrel and a pile of garbage a mile away. I try not to check-in to see if I feel like shit anymore but my mind retracts and comes back to tell me that I probably need to run harder. I could never run hard on the road, without a number indicating how fast I am going and how long I will be on it. So I run towards the gym and get on the treadmill to run till my focus moves into my body.

There is that huge rock still sitting on my chest, wait, is it smaller by any chance? My chest heaves hard and I try to suck in more air from my mouth. I hold on to the railing of the machine and let my legs do the running. I can feel my calf muscles hurt, my abdomen squeeze in pain and my palms sweat. Can I run harder?   I try. Two minutes later I come back to a sprint. There you are boulder. So, ok, you can stay. I am going to let you sit on me for as long as you please. With that, I hit the "up" button and begin to run again. This time I run without a thought, a care and  a cause.

I take that sense of desolation along and get home finally. Only now, it feels like I've made space for its presence, guess that's why I needed to run, not to hurl it out of my system but to make place for it. Packed neatly in a corner now, it sits and watches for moments and events where it can hulk up and ache. For now though it leaves me be, so I can focus on the right now that is calming in its own way.

How to get beautiful Skin: A MUST watch video!

As usual, I was roaming around the internet and read my favorite magazine: Elephant journal. There, I chanced upon this amazing article by a Yogi on media and how they portray women in yoga, and yoga in general too.
I hope you will read it, but if you dont, take a look at this video that I sourced from that article. Its amazing, and will crack you up :-) Here's how to get beautiful skin:

Cheers!

Diaries from When I was Pregnant-1

While I was pregnant, I maintained a journal where I would write about my hopes, wishes, experiences. I wanted to put them up on the blog then but I was nervous about doing it, I felt like I was thinking and saying things I shouldnt. Today, I went down that lane and read my writings, I decided to put them up and share them in this space I have come to love. This was as I moved into my second trimester.  I share it in hopes that my readers (especially those who are pregnant now)know its ok to feel anything and everything! 

Pregnancy: Movement from calm to freak out to calm

I am pregnant. As I write today I am in my 20^th week of pregnancy according to the LMP (Last Menstrual Period) or 19^th week according to the fetal scan. My midwife measured my gradually growing belly and told me I was 20^th week into the baby experience. How do I feel? Sometimes   I don’t remember I am pregnant. I am my usual self-absorbed self, going about my routine with much the same enthusiasm as any other day.  I read stuff that needs getting read, I listen to clients who need to be heard, I am pissed with the same people that I usually am pissed with and I sail through the traffic on the road with the same distaste as I used to before. (Of course now, besides other things that I will soon mention, I am very brazen and open about how I feel , much to the dissatisfaction of others).  Also, since I hang out with newly married or single girlfriends at my work place, it’s easy for me to forget that I am pregnant. Of course, there is eating like an elephant, not working out like I used to, but when is being a sloth a new thing for mankind (not for me at least) . So, even though I don’t drink tea or coffee everyday anymore and eat a bite every hour or so, and pee a jar every half hour I still go about everyday as if I were not pregnant.  Don’t get me wrong. I am delighted that I am pregnant. Always ecstatic when I see my baby through the ultrasound, in fact all the changes (few albeit) that I have mentioned really makes me very aware that I am pregnant. That a baby is due be born after roughly four more months.  

But what I have really been feeling besides happiness is a major hormonal uprising that keeps me feeling blah. I have been pissed with everyone and everybody who don’t  pay attention to me. Who don’t give me what I want and who don’t take good care of me. I found myself crying at a drop of a hat and feeling miserable about being at work, being in the traffic, being at home, everything.  Actually, I was ok with feeling low. I felt like “feeling it” will allow me to pass through it. Overall I have been quite a mess. A happy but a very very hormonal sad mess. But besides the hormonal upsurge, something else was going on that I wasn’t really ready to acknowledge. What was going on within me?

The revelation happened with a bang. One night when I was sleeping I touched my stomach and freaked!  It finally dawned on me that everything was changing! My stomach was growing, I was pregnant, carrying a new life in me that would be a whole new person by himself. Every bit of me, my body, my life, my outlook on things- MY LIFE was on the brink of change! It also struck me the amount of responsibility I will be taking up. I wasn’t sure I was ready for so much. Just realizing this kept me up all night long. I brooded about this all of the next day as well. What does having a new comer into my life mean? I let my thoughts run wild. In essence it meant I was no longer going to be the focus of my life. That there was going to be a whole new individual that was going to take the center stage and go on to become a completely separate individual. I began to ask, what’s in it for me? And why did I ask such a question? Because, for as long as I have known, I have been very fierce about my individuality. It was always about how I could do better, how I could be better, how I could live better and how I could be happier.  Like my husband would put it “it’s always about “me, me, me” “. What can I say, it’s true, I have rebelled and wanted to discover life and the world on my own terms and now I feel, coming upon me a future where I will tend to and nurture another individual other than myself! That certainly requires a whole new measure of selflessness that I wasn’t sure I possessed. I shuddered at the thought.  I tried to remember all my gestures in selflessness. Even my practice as a therapist is a timed act of selflessness where I devote all of myself to hear this individual and be there for him/her. If the clock ticks beyond an hour my therapist hat starts to slip. So what now?

The beauty of the universe is such; I have learnt this time and again: Help is at hand when you truly begin to confront your fears. I began to turn inward. I realized I was projecting this need to be taken care of on my family and friends and not really doing that for myself. Also when I truly let my fears about being a parent uncover I could finally deal with it. Gradually, help began to flow: Through a book I was reading I was reminded that we are never given a task that we cannot handle.  My father reminded me of the many grounding techniques that I often forget about such as Reiki, Meditation, and mindfulness.  And gradually my panic seemed to simmer down. I was able to center myself enough to really think and feel these questions through.

Twenty weeks and now, twenty first week while I continue writing, I can actually feel the flutter of my baby as she/he kicks and wobbles and swims around inside of me. I cannot help but tear. I cannot help but smile and take notice every time this happens.  While I am still scared about how it will all turn out in the end and while I want to do everything right I remember that I have been given this moment and this gift to learn the very lessons I have wanted to learn forever.  What lessons? Two of my most important ones:

1. To slow down:  My conversations with friends and family, my blogs and my introspections will all reveal that throughout my life I have always wanted to balance it all, I have wanted to slow down and breathe, be mindful and centered. I have struggled with this now and then, and right now this moment presents itself exactly for this reason. My life asks me of this, I ask myself this. To slow down to experience the whole of me; to experience the beauty and strength of my body, my mind and my spirit. I find myself already doing this in areas of my life I have never been able to. With a new life growing  I inside of me, I want to eat right, I want to think right, I want to feel right, I want to stay balanced, I want to be the stable bow that will allow the little baby arrow to take a liner path towards her self-actualization. I never asked myself of this in such discipline as I do no. So what’s in it for me? All of the above!

2. To move closer to my divinity, my God: I have a deep faith in my higher power, my creator. I assume her presence with me every day.  However, the other day when I was reading Deepak Chopra’s book on “Magical Beginnings, Enchanted Lives” I was struck by how my experience of divinity moves further with my baby. Says he, “The perennial wisdom traditions tell us that archetypal gods and goddesses brought us forth in their image so that we could re-create and honor them in our image.”  With this I have begun to make a deeper connection with my baby, my divinity, by playing the music that touches me, by being more mindful about my state of being, by talking to her/him every day and by singing to her every day.

Of course I am going to change and of course everything about me is going to be well shaken and reconstructed!  Moving beyond focusing on someone else but me is clearly an exercise in not taking myself so seriously. What’s life if it’s not an opportunity to learn to stay open and grateful to the changes that are at once scary and exciting, eh? Also, while change is occurring in leaps and bounds I cannot but fail to acknowledge that its feels like I am opening myself to my greater potential. 

My Bucketlist

This is one of the hardest things for me to think about. Things to do before I kick the bucket? I am not sure if its because my life is currently filled with so many "right now" moments that I cant seem to think of anything or if it is that I am not ambitious enough but thinking about my bucket list made me want to bolt the other direction, initially at least.

However, when I sat to meditate, my mind opened up to a list of things I would love to do before I kick the bucket, so here it goes!

1. Get my PhD in Psychology
2. Go backpacking across Europe with my sister

3. Go on treks and nature outings with my little one as she grows
4. Own my own office space
5. Write a book
6. Go on a silent retreat
7. Go on a yoga retreat to an exotic place like Bali
8. Cook exotic food and perfect South Indian cooking
9. Built a scrapbook of memories for my little one
10. Go on a painting/writing retreat to Rome, maybe
11. Perfect my swimming skills
12. Go Scuba diving
13. Go on a girlie holiday
14. Learn to dance
15. Give up anger
16. Travel far and wide!

While I was pondering and breaking my head on what my bucket list ought to be I chanced upon www.bucketlist.org a fun website to look at what others are dreaming about and hoping to achieve.

Finally, while some of these items are something I would love to do/be, none of them "have" to be done of course. My takeaway from this exercise has been to take a step back from my usual grind and dream :-) what are your dreams for tomorrow?

The Hurried Hope

Its 9:30pm and I am reminded that night is well in its way for me. With a desire to prolong it, I make myself some chamomile tea and settle into my bed with pillows stacked to comfort my back. I find my perfect spot and retrieve my nighttime book, from under the bed. I take a sip of the tea and the warmth of the herbs envelops me. One of my little pleasures in life, I remind myself. With a deep sigh I look for the bookmarked page and begin to read. The words float in my head; I read a paragraph before I realize I haven’t taken much in, so I go back to the beginning of the page. Before long I’m living another’s life, living their chaos and their struggle. Scrunching up my eyebrows, tensing my shoulders, curling my toes under the sheets, I reach a catharsis and sigh with the character I have become involved with. Another sip of my tea forces me out of the bind. I am compelled to come back to a center that I keep experimenting with.

It’s always been this way, my life. Becoming involved in my own content- doing this, doing that, getting here, going there, running hard, sleeping sound, watching TV, fussing over not getting what I want. Then, there’s involvement with others’ content too. Like the characters of my book, the clients I see every day, the friends I am with as well as the million others I wait with at every traffic signal, with my windows rolled down. There is no assumption of a center when I am so focused on the surface. It’s present though, when I stretch and breathe into an asana, when I sip my chamomile tea, when I am lying in my bed having just woken up from a dreamless night.

At the end of the running around, vagabond like, I feel a hint of metallic angst and bitterness. Why am I not following a center, moving from within my center and living from within this center? I ask myself. A center of calmness and patience, a center that is not in a hurry to achieve but that can trudge along a path, any path and yet find joy. A center that can make peace with expectations that will either be fulfilled now, later or never.

Several compromises, some compulsions, obsessions and a ton of procrastinations make this goal of moving into the center such a forlon journey, an impossibility, if you will, to move to a centered place within oneself. And whats more, I find that this is a pattern many of us take to-clients, friends, family alike; one that is filled with obstacles that seem to want to turn us into chisseled glasses of perfection.

It’s funny, the very paradox we put ourselves in. I say “Find your center, Damn it!" - Always in a hurry to perfect myself, and yet always moving away from the very goal simply because I create this complex maze of many "if's" and "should be's" and "has-to's" to reach there. Is there hope for the Hurried then?