The Non-Facebook Post #118

"Write about things that make you cry." - Badhwar

Writing is my heart center. It connects me to me, like exercise and yoga.

Some days the words come out all wrong. A mass of jumbled mess like the muddled thinking that's producing them. "Think clearly to communicate clearly", says one of my favourite professors. Those are the kind of words, and phrases, and thoughts you'd like to erase, unwrite, unthink. 
Other days, the words come as easily as pearls on a string slide smoothly. These are the sentences, ideas, records of memory that time-stamp a portion of your life, that you like revisiting - to reacquaint yourself with the person you were then. 

Kerouac, you're still guiding me - "if you don't say what you want, what is the sense of writing?"

Yes, let's say, but with an "ask". Because isn't it good to ask? To question? 
Why do we question, though? To get an answer? Or to have our notion of an answer validated by framing the question so?
Are answers important? Can a discourse be entirely composed of questions? Can a question be answered with a question? 
Where do you want the questions to lead you? Do you want them to lead you somewhere?

But here's more meandering in the field of my thoughts. Because that's what I like doing best.

 A foggy memory surfaces to mind. As a child, rolling about on my bed one evening, I turned and lay on my back to stare at the ceiling to dream up  questions and fire the volley of them at my Dad. That felt like the right and important thing to do - to ask and ask and ask him questions. My Dad sat beside me and patiently answered every question I had for him. From all the questions I asked, the only one I remember now is, "why is the colour of the sky blue?" After I had exhausted myself or had found a distraction (TV, I guess), I did what kids do best - got up and ran away. And Dad did what Dads do best - went back to working on the task he had stopped midway for me.  

The Non-Facebook Post #117

There was once - 

'Yesssssssssss - that prolonged expression of accomplishment when you manage to drive in snow!

Nooooooooooo - that long shriek of dismay when you discover you lost one from the pair of your warmest North Face gloves on one of the coldest days of the year.
Yeah, yin and yang much.'

Now there is -

Sighhhhhhhhhh – that long release of exasperated breath when you and your GPS take about two hours to reach a one-mile destination. Well, at least it's a one-in-a-million feat!

"Continue on Alley."

"Which Alley, Precious?!"

The Non-Facebook Post #116

"Have an epic love story."  - a charming 9-year old's farewell wishes to me before moving home to a new city.

The Non-Facebook Post #115

What does it mean to be a wallflower? What does it mean to have been a wallflower for most of your earthly existence?

A quick Google search throws up a few varieties of definition. Mostly, they state that a person who stands on the sidelines of a social gathering shyly, sometimes feeling awkward and excluded. They also state that such people, though being introverted and inward-focusing, still like seeking out social events and communication fairly regularly. The definition that I love the most comes from urbandictionary.com

                “A type of loner, seemingly shy folks who no one knows, often some of the most interesting people if one actually talks to them.”

Urban dictionary’s collaborative format allows users to contribute their definitions of terms. Thus, wallflower’s definition on this website spans the spectrum of being shy, introverted, observer rather than doer, someone who desires social activity but is unable to participate because of personality traits. Some users also define a wallflower as being unpopular and so getting left out of social events and group gatherings.

I identify as a wallflower. So, what’s my take on being a wallflower? Well, for as far back as I can remember, I have memories of being the silent, quiet one when surrounded by people. I don’t know if it was a lack of self-confidence, or low self-esteem, or shyness, or introversion or all of these that held me back from diving into social liveliness.

What has that come to mean? I have had friends few and far between – none, early on, and countable on my fingers, later on in my existence. I have never taken the initiative to form bonds and relationships. The few friendships I have had have been because my friends took the time to seek me out, the patience to understand me, and then show graciousness in becoming my friends. However, these few countable friendships have turned out to be friendships for life for me. I have now come to understand that my bonds of friendship are rarely formed to be flippant. They mostly have deep meaning and value in my life.

Why these ramblings on wallflowering into social non-existence though? My life seems to have taken a U-turn in the context of my social connections. I now find that I actually use social media and messaging apps to keep up with my friends. This has been a very recent occurrence. And, it surprises me. It surprises the wallflower part of me. It isn’t like I have a thousand friends and connections now but they are more – significantly more – than what I have been used to having my whole life. And these conversations that i now have with friends and connections spread across the globe truly astounds me. So it is true - you can grow, and grow by leaps and bounds. And those leaps and bounds are only relative to you, no one else.

Yeah, wallflowers do desire friends and dance partners and connections – I have to agree with that variant of definition on urbandictionary. To be able to forge connections that really matter, that I have wanted to be a part of my life more than anything else – I have stepped out of my wallflower comfort zone. I did, “put myself out there” and I think I am “rockstar” for it!

Here’s to Kerouac – “if you don’t say what you want, what is the sense of writing?”

And to Natasha Badhwar, “Writing connects the stories. The writing brain is usually not the social self. It’s slower and smarter. Writing forces me to understand and unravel, rather than judge.

Write long enough and one begins to see one’s reflection on the page. As if the light has shifted and transformed the screen into a mirror. Writing reveals us to ourselves…

Writing is the beginning of brave…”

Here’s also to being a braver wallflower.

The Non-Facebook Post #113

So, it’s summer. Do you know what’s happening in parking lots? There’re these empty stretches of parking spots and then suddenly a huddling of cars under tree-shaded medians. Four lucky cars get to be cool on parallel sides of medians shaded by trees. The other cars? Well, they get sauna-like so maybe they’re helping you sweat out toxins?
There’re also these summer parking-spot wars that are playing out. In a parking lot shaded by smaller trees like Zelkovas that are planted few and far between, the eastern-facing spots fill up first. Everyone can take a little morning sun. It’s the afternoon sun you want to be shielded from.
Parking-lot ramblings. (Because, beginning to drive brings about this whole higher-level of driving and parking consciousness.)

The Non-Facebook Post #114

Goodbye.

Goodbyes are hard. Except when you're looking forward to getting rid of people and places - then it becomes 'good riddance.'
Goodbyes are a relatively new phenomena for me. I have not had to move away from my loved ones and home for the better part of my life. My first and hardest goodbye was when I travelled an ocean to foreign shores. That goodbye was so hard that I flew back in a month and returned a year later. I had left behind my cat, family and friends - Home.

Surprisingly, I've experienced 3 or 4 heart-rending goodbyes in these four years that I've spent on foreign shores.

Why, surprising? Here are some of my Facebook statuses that explain this. I am an avid Facebook user and my status updates regularly flood my friends' newsfeeds. They help me express and record my thoughts, feelings and emotions.

From that repository, here is one of the hardest goodbyes I had to say. It was in April last year. Now, 2014 was a landmark year for me. I graduated with both my degrees in summer and winter respectively.

I was about to graduate in July last year with my Master's in Landscape Architecture. A little earlier, in April, I wrote -

"What does it mean when you begin to miss a person, a group of people, a place?

It's been 3 years of living the life I never had, of going through experiences I missed in my "golden years." And I've surprised myself by forming bonds - ties of friendship, relationships of acquaintance, professional networks. For someone who's been a wallflower for most of their earthly existence, this has been a remarkable anomaly.

And it's that time of year when I flood Facebook with posts that reflect the emotions going through my head. Emotions of attachment, sadness, gratefulness, quiet introspection, but above all, the thought of missing the people and places I've formed these close bonds with."

The status continues in a lengthy manner where I go on to thank my friends for enriching my life with valuable experiences and relationships and I name each of my classmates and thank them.

I love watching this TV show called Project Runway. It's anchored by one of my favorite creative thinkers, Tim Gunn. During each show, he says this standard line to the contestant ousted in that week's design competition -

"I have to send you to the workroom to clean up your space." I add, " Yeah, cleaning up your space - I don't think the thought remotely crosses your mind when you're enthusiastically setting up your newly assigned place, your desk, your studio workzone.

I guess this is part of the circle of life.

Winding down the graduate school experience I initiated 3 years ago with a Monica-Rachel 'end of an era' emotion."

Later, in December last year, when I was graduating with my second degree I wrote -

"Wow, that's that. Last day of class. Culmination of the academic-graduate student phase. End of an era. 

A journey that took flight three years ago and got me across the proverbial seven seas to new shores.

Goodbyes are hard, darn it." And, "Oh, goodbyes, goodbyes and more goodbyes. It's going to drive me crazy. Either you shouldn't have to leave or you shouldn't get attached to people and places."

So, from all of my goodbye musings on Facebook, I have come to distill three reasons why goodbyes are so hard:
1. Attachment - you get attached to people and places and going away from them is going to leave a void in your heart and life.
2. I ascribe this to another status update but one that my friend shared. "You leave a part of you behind when you leave a place." The person you are at that point in time is in part because you and your behaviour are responding to the people and environment surrounding you. You won't be that person again because now your behavioural responses will be based on the new environment you are in.
3. Highly sensitive people feel emotions more acutely. I am a highly sensitive person and even the smallest of emotions is greatly amplified and felt.

However, last night I was thinking about the flip side to goodbyes, about the yang to this yin. With goodbyes come hellos and the chance to forge new connections.
So, here's looking forward to hellos and, see you again, maybe.

Postscript 1: This is my second Toastmasters speech. Except for transitioning smoothly and connecting ideas better, I was evaluated favourably.

Postscript 2: It's a commonly held belief that if you do something enough times over and over, you start getting better at it. Be cool, unattached and objective, Person!

The Non-Facebook Post #112

On getting picked on -
"Thick skinned. Let it bounce off." - Chef Gordon Ramsay.