The It's-Ok-If-It's-A-Facebook-Post #1

This post is an exercise in experimenting with how long and in what form thoughts stay alive in your head unexpressed. Do they lose some of that zing and excitement when they first came to you or, having gotten a chance to percolate in your brain for a few days, become better?

It's like the example about American poet Ruth Stone that Elizabeth Gilbert shared in her talk on creative genius. Stone would 'feel' a poem charging towards her as she worked in the fields and in turn feel the need to instantly turn around and run to the house to be able to jot down the poem, or thoughts, on paper.

I've had several such 'writing emergencies', some of which I alluded to on this blog. I have acted on these writing emergencies fairly instantaneously. However, this time around, I wanted to experiment with what form my thoughts would take, sitting there in my head waiting to be let out. 

So, here goes. My clutch of thoughts from this past week.

1. The year began anew, and the work year also began anew in the middle of the week. The ride to work that morning was an exclamation-filled effort in trying to get to my destination safely. After nearly two weeks of quiet roads and lulled traffic, the after-new-year's-eve driving seemed to be an unleashing of rookie drivers on the road all desperately trying to make up for rolling out of bed late by driving like the devil himself! Yeah, it was a video game-esque experience escaping sudden jerky vehicular moves as I tried to arrive at my workplace with myself and my sanity in one piece.
2. Of late, I've been focussing on deep and intent-filled breathing any time during the day when I feel calm eluding me. On a call with a customer service representative, I was asked to stand by as the person at the other end of the line tried to find the information I needed. After being on hold for more than a couple minutes, I instinctively breathed in and out with a deep, long and satisfying sigh to release all the stress I could feel building up. From the other side of the phone I heard a, "I'm sorry; it will take just a few moments longer." And my inner monologue to myself was instantly, "dang woman, don't breathe!" I realized that she didn't mute the line, and neither did I. All that my brain could now tell me was, "don't breathe!" And I did just that! After what seemed like an eternity, the representative came alive on the phone again and began relaying the information I wanted. My slightly-starved-of-oxygen brain now started pounding, "breathe now, woman, breathe!"
3. The first week of the year is also a reminder of loss for me. I lost my grandmother at the start of the year, three years ago. It's always a conscious effort by me to fight off thoughts and memories related to her that naturally begin cropping up around that time. It's a coping mechanism because the pain is still too intense to feel and to have to go through. It's much easier to block off the thoughts and memories. Some memories do sneak their way into my consciousness. Some of those memories seem like they are so far away in my mind now that it almost feels like they were a part of a previous life. Some memories are bitingly fresh and seem like it was just yesterday the the thing they're reminding me of occurred. There was one such memory that came to me this week - the memory of adversity growing up but my grandmother's tenacity in the face of it all; those meals that were nothing more than the proverbial 'sukhi', dry roti and pyaaz; the symbolism in those meals of persisting, trudging on through hard times; the teaching that my grandmother was implicitly imparting to field life's highs and lows with grace... The teaching remains, the memory - painful and sad. 
4. Writing is meditative. Writing requires patience. It can't be hurried. It needs sukoon.

There! That's my coterie of thoughts, all neatly laid out. How do they fare though? Better or worse than when they first came to me. That's an analysis for another blog post. 

To embrace Samwise Gamgee

It was Christmas, some nine years ago, that I wrote about finding hope in Frodo's arduous journey and Sam's unwavering loyal companionship. It was a phase of life that made me relate to Frodo's declaration of "I can't do this".

It's another December, not too far from Christmas too, that I watch and write about trying to figure out how to trudge through more I-can't-do-this situations in life. Over the years, I've watched the Lord of the Rings trilogy more times than I can remember. This evening, the phase of life I am in makes the the re-watching experience add proof to that well-know phrase 'life comes full circle'.

Yeah, life's come full circle and how.

My battle with personal hardships then had my parents and siblings be the Sam to my Frodo. Now, I have an addition to that company. I could not be more grateful and thankful for my real-life Sam - my life partner - who matches Samwise Gamgee in support, loyalty, companionship and encouragement. It's still a battle with personal hardships - new ones this time around, because what is life with all sun and no clouds every now and then? As we navigate my I-can't-do-this situation, my Sam reminds me of our love for each other, our taking care of each other and our lasting partnership for life. There's strength that you draw from knowing you are loved and cared for and that a trusted someone close to you has your back.

Sam stood true to his character and word. He made a promise to not leave Frodo and did just that. Frodo allowed and accepted Sam's loyal effort in helping him through the journey. To Frodo's every gloomy "I don't suppose we'll ever see them again", there was Sam's balancing "We may yet, Mr. Frodo. We may".

And so, yeah, there come points in your life every now and then when sometimes you become your own Samwise Gamgee and help yourself through your perilous journey. Sometimes, you allow a Samwise Gamgee  - be it your family or a film or an author - to help you change the I-can't to an I-can. And other times, when you get lucky, it's you and that special someone that you choose to share the rest of your life with that complete the perilous trip to Mordor and back together, successfully.

We shall overcome

'...Ruthi taqdeerein toh kya,
Tooti shamsheerein toh kya,
Tooti shamsheeron se hi,

Kar har maidan fateh...'

Learning from parting

Life has a way of testing you repeatedly in similar ways.

But hey, Life, I can beat ya this time!

The absolute hardest test of my life was leaving home, hearth and loved ones (which included, most definitely, my cat) to begin life on foreign shores. Losing a parent followed soon. Strangely enough, the act of cutting physical ties and moving from home steeled me for successive life tests like no other. I probably would not have been able to make it through the loss of a parent in as stoic of a manner as I did had it not been for going through the pain and torment of that first real test life put me through.

And then, life has a curious way of coming full circle.

I face the same test - again. With the looming prospect of travel, albeit short-lived and temporary, I feel the old pain making a revisit. Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine it would be the other way around  - that a piece of my heart would get left behind on those very same foreign shores, the journey to which had shattered my heart into smithereens. And that that piece of my heart would cause me the same ache as that first journey across the seven seas.

But yes, this time, Life, I've learnt. I've learnt resiliency from the very lessons you taught me. I will be fine. That magnificent being, to whom that piece of my heart belongs, will be fine. The proof lies in the pudding, Life, the proof lies in the pudding. Where earlier, Dickinson's tragic 'parting is all we need to know of hell' would have reverberated in my soul, today, Gibran's more pragmatic 'ever has it been that love knows not its own depth until the hour of separation' and George Elliot's 'only in the agony of parting do we look into the depths of love' resonate with me.

Here's to learning and growing.

Exercising and Mother Abbess Wisdom

Exercising is more mind over body than just body. There's that saying - where the mind goes, the body follows. Like any other achievement in life, exercising needs a combination of will power and effort. And that's easier said than done. It takes nothing short of Mother Abbess' exhortation to 'climb every mountain, search high and low, follow every byway, every path you know...ford every stream' to find a dream that 'will need all the love you can give every day of your life for as long as you live.' 

Granted, it may be a bit dramatic to apply this score to the slightly mundane goal of getting yourself out of bed at six-thirty in the morning to put yourself through an hour-long gruelling workout. And what is gruelling anyway? It's probably just a perception - your mind telling you that your body can't do those sixteen squats asked of you. But hey, isn't the song about overcoming whatever holds you back from getting where you want to be? And if bigger wins start coming your way because of these smaller wins you're trying hard and achieving by being all fired up from a song, what's so wrong about that?

The Sound of Music is one of my favourite-est movies. Growing up, watching this movie on video cassette a million times with family is now one of the loveliest memories I have and makes up one of the best experiences of my life lived. Last evening adds to those memories. It was a peaceful, happy three hours watching the movie for the million-plus-one-th time with Mom. Throughout the movie, I kept grabbing pen and paper because I just had to write down a line spoken here or a lyric sung there that made me go, "I love this!". Each of those lines meant something to me.

Here's that collection:

'I always try to keep faith in my doubts, Sister Berthe.'

'To laugh like a brook as it trips and falls over stones on its way...'

Maria: 'And what's worse, I can't seem to stop saying things. Anything I think and feel.'
Mother Superior: 'Some people would call that honesty.' 

'Well, when anything bothers me and makes me unhappy, I try to think of nice things.'

'The thing to do nowadays is to get along with everyone.'

All the Different You's

It's so interesting to observe the 'you' you are now compared to you a few years ago.

Growing up, spicy food was an integral part of life. The more fiery, the better. Our family had a pretty high threshold for hot food compared to our relatives who were often left surprised at the amount of heat in our meals. I remember our family as being right up there with, or perhaps just a couple notches below the spiciest-food lovers in our region who enjoyed Andhra cuisine  - a cuisine well known for its ability to set your mouth aflame. Back then, I could barely imagine eating more than one meal in a day that was bland in taste. Now, I cannot eat more than a few morsels of food that are as hot as the food I grew up eating.

Today, what I would have considered mildly-spiced food, set the insides of my stomach on fire. This stomach-in-flames feeling is not entirely new to me. I've experienced it when I ate food that exceeded the already high levels of heat I was used to in my growing-up years. However, I had a far higher tolerance for that burn too. I could go about my daily chores and be functional despite the discomfort. 

Now, all I could think of was a way for someone to use a fire extinguisher in my stomach to put out the blaze immediately! My mind knew that I got through a lot worse than the current situation; that I have it in me to get through this one too. But, something in me didn't want to do it anymore.

I attribute this change to a couple of things. First, as I've gotten older, I've found I've begun having a lower tolerance for s*** in life, in general. (My writing too is undergoing change - I now incorporate profanity when earlier there was none!). Second, life is all about perception. Maybe in that cocooned world of my earlier life, my limited life experiences placed the spice level I was used to at the top of the spicy-food hierarchy. Now, having travelled about and experienced more - maybe the perception of having grown up eating really hot foods was just that, a perception. Maybe I always only ate medium-spiced food all the while thinking that my palette was used to and could brave highly-spiced food.

Well, my changing palette makes me love the fact that I'm having it all. I experienced one end of the food spectrum and I now I get to experience the other. 

Mamma Mia

It was the most glorious time today, watching Mamma Mia, Here We Go Again with Mom. Such a carefree vacation! The theatre was mostly empty. Other patrons were family people just like us - a retired Mom and daughter and retired couples. One kind patron, Angel, thanked us for sharing the viewing experience with her. We oooh-ed and aaah-ed together after the movie, delighting at the beautiful scenery, pretty clothes and timeless Abba music. She told me to make sure I took my Mom out for further expeditions. Her daughter does the same for her and she said, “you young people are the ones to take us out.” Mom liked that she gave me her dua, “God bless you.” 

There were times through the movie when the audience in the theatre erupted into joyful clapping. It was an audience that had assembled together ready and open to be moved to exuberant highs and low lows. 

Oh! It was all so glorious. 

It’s the simplest of days doing simple things that bring the most pleasure.