What is my inner security like? Or rather the lack of it? As I walked to the station from home this morning, I got in touch with the way I cling to my bag. A small handbag that contains two books and usually my mobile phone.
It was kind of unusual. For the first time I became aware of the way I hold my bag - hung on the shoulder and with the hand of that side, clutch onto it - for dear life :-) What for? A near empty road and a safe area. Can't it just hang neatly from the shoulder? What is the need to cling onto it - as if someone is going to run away with it the next moment?
Nopes - I am not asking myself to be careless. Carelessness is about not caring enough for my possessions. But can I be careful while being carefree? The question is of inner security. How safe is my world?
Wednesday, December 30, 2009
Thursday, October 29, 2009
Mse | Redemption | 29th Oct. '09
It is sad how impulses and conditioning take over life. How we deaden ourselves to things in life and don’t live moment to moment: alive to possibilities, sensitive to the universe. Feel a sense of burden.
Where do I begin? It was an office lunch out – the whole team had gone out for lunch. As is normal, while returning, people returned back in small groups – chatting and walking. I too was with one group – with three colleagues. And from nowhere, from one corner, a voice cried out, ‘…saabh, khana khila do…’ (sir, please feed me). We all ignored that voice and continued walking. As I was walking past, she tugged the sleeves of my shirt. I shrugged off and walked off – without even looking at her. After I had done that, from the corner of my eye, I saw her – it was a old face. A sad face. And a desperate face. A toothless woman begging. A woman with no possessions in life – abandoned by hope and life…
But it was as if my sanskara (‘propensities / tendencies’) were leading me. I had already shrugged her off – and walked ahead. And then the realization dawned on me. A bit late: just like things strike (mentally) the protagonist of a Bollywood masala movie after the train has chugged off and a good-bye wave is reciprocated by another good-bye wave at the platform. But in Hindi movies, the train stops, the protagonist gets down and redemption happens.
Suddenly it stuck me – the voice had pierced within my heart and I did not realize it then. The woman indeed was hungry. And I felt ashamed. Worried. Sick. By then I had reached office. The thought kept troubling me. And then it dawned on me. That she felt compelled to tug my sleeve because I must have given that vibe. I was offered this opportunity by the cosmos – the opportunity to feed a hungry soul. We can quibble about it, but deep down in the heart, each one of us knows the intent behind a voice (if we listen deep down). And deep down a voice told me: the old woman was indeed hungry. So I walked back – to find the woman and feed her.
As a principle, I normally do not give money, but take a beggar (esp. if he/she is begging for food) to the nearest eating joint. That too I learnt from my sister ages ago. A few rupees feeds a hungry person and costs me nothing. In fact each one of us on an average had spent money on one lunch that would have bought the woman 10 days meals.
Do I call it my misfortune? She was not there. I searched the whole lane. But she was not there. She just seemed to have vanished. As if she had been an incarnation to remind me about life.
Crestfallen, I came back – to my desk. And as you can see I write this muse. A muse to myself – with a silent prayer of forgiveness and redemption…
Where do I begin? It was an office lunch out – the whole team had gone out for lunch. As is normal, while returning, people returned back in small groups – chatting and walking. I too was with one group – with three colleagues. And from nowhere, from one corner, a voice cried out, ‘…saabh, khana khila do…’ (sir, please feed me). We all ignored that voice and continued walking. As I was walking past, she tugged the sleeves of my shirt. I shrugged off and walked off – without even looking at her. After I had done that, from the corner of my eye, I saw her – it was a old face. A sad face. And a desperate face. A toothless woman begging. A woman with no possessions in life – abandoned by hope and life…
But it was as if my sanskara (‘propensities / tendencies’) were leading me. I had already shrugged her off – and walked ahead. And then the realization dawned on me. A bit late: just like things strike (mentally) the protagonist of a Bollywood masala movie after the train has chugged off and a good-bye wave is reciprocated by another good-bye wave at the platform. But in Hindi movies, the train stops, the protagonist gets down and redemption happens.
Suddenly it stuck me – the voice had pierced within my heart and I did not realize it then. The woman indeed was hungry. And I felt ashamed. Worried. Sick. By then I had reached office. The thought kept troubling me. And then it dawned on me. That she felt compelled to tug my sleeve because I must have given that vibe. I was offered this opportunity by the cosmos – the opportunity to feed a hungry soul. We can quibble about it, but deep down in the heart, each one of us knows the intent behind a voice (if we listen deep down). And deep down a voice told me: the old woman was indeed hungry. So I walked back – to find the woman and feed her.
As a principle, I normally do not give money, but take a beggar (esp. if he/she is begging for food) to the nearest eating joint. That too I learnt from my sister ages ago. A few rupees feeds a hungry person and costs me nothing. In fact each one of us on an average had spent money on one lunch that would have bought the woman 10 days meals.
Do I call it my misfortune? She was not there. I searched the whole lane. But she was not there. She just seemed to have vanished. As if she had been an incarnation to remind me about life.
Crestfallen, I came back – to my desk. And as you can see I write this muse. A muse to myself – with a silent prayer of forgiveness and redemption…
Muse | Grace | 5th Oct. '09
Grace: May I have:
The grace to accept, the grace to surrender,
The grace to forgive, the grace to understand,
The grace to give, the grace to receive,
The grace to protect, the grace to nurture,
The grace to live, the grace to love,
The grace to be, the grace to act,
The grace to know, the grace to accept the unknown,
The grace to stay, the grace to leave,
The grace to smile, the grace to weep,
The grace to let go, the grace to forgive,
The grace to remember, the grace to return,
The grace to play, the grace to stop the play,
The grace to go out, the grace to get in,
The grace to be the actor, the grace to be the witness,
The grace to make life, the grace to let life flow.
The grace to accept, the grace to surrender,
The grace to forgive, the grace to understand,
The grace to give, the grace to receive,
The grace to protect, the grace to nurture,
The grace to live, the grace to love,
The grace to be, the grace to act,
The grace to know, the grace to accept the unknown,
The grace to stay, the grace to leave,
The grace to smile, the grace to weep,
The grace to let go, the grace to forgive,
The grace to remember, the grace to return,
The grace to play, the grace to stop the play,
The grace to go out, the grace to get in,
The grace to be the actor, the grace to be the witness,
The grace to make life, the grace to let life flow.
Friday, July 31, 2009
Muse | In Quest | 31st Jul. '09
A quest – a search. For oneself – for meaning and purpose…
I find a paradox in me. Things that excited me do not excite me any more. Sometimes I ask myself a question, “Am I queer? Am I different from others?” Then other times there is this refrain within, “Why can’t I be like the way others are.” “Why do I have to think so much?” But I still know that it is part of me.
What is the purpose of my existence? At intuitive level, I know it is about "healing."
There are two planes I live in. And at times I judge myself as an imposter in both. For I don’t live both of them together; nor do I live them…. There is one within me that gets happy with the little things. For e.g., the other day we had gone to Bombay Gym for lunch – hosted courtesy my boss; today it was another place. It does feel good being there – the gentry, the works, the civilization etc. Yet, the moment, I step out, the question comes to haunt me, “for what?” There is one aspect of me that takes joy in buying a neat little cuff link, in picking up some good stuff, in buying and savouring a good Scotch, in just being “suave”. And then there is this other, that just has utter disregard for all this – this is so fake and fleeting.
It is this other that really questions all the little pleasures of life. I was sharing with a colleague of mine and she got concerned. The question that haunts me is, “for what?” The funny part is that in my mental scheme of things, either there has to be a negative push from the current situation or a positive pull from a desired future for action to happen. Yet, I find that I have neither circumstance in my life currently. I work with pleasure and I rest with pleasure. Paradoxically, even though I am happy, I do not find contentment.
My well wishers tell me that I should not think so much. But is it not “normal” to think of existential questions? After all, what is this life if not lived purposefully?
My boss tells me that it is all related to monotony and that I am trying to find a purpose and meaning in “work”; while real purpose and meaning lies elsewhere. I buy that thesis – but where do I get that purpose? How do I effect it? – for I know my purpose...
Is it that we give meanings in life? And live that meaning? Like a dear friend told me, “we all live the meaning we give to life – we do not live life.” How true – I ascribe meanings to all the things of life – the colour of the hat, the manner of speech, the socio-educational-economic background, the shoes worn. All are but meanings.
I remember JK who wrote somewhere that between someone in quest for inner peace and another in quest for hedonistic pleasure, there is no difference at a fundamental level. Both of them are still seeking; and real contentment comes not from seeking but from a deep understanding. From a deep understanding of what is and what should be.
Is it simply another phase of life? Or is it a desire to understand? I don’t know. I used to feel like Siddhartha earlier – in quest. But now while I am like Siddhartha, I do not feel like him.
I feel like myself. And “In Quest.”
I find a paradox in me. Things that excited me do not excite me any more. Sometimes I ask myself a question, “Am I queer? Am I different from others?” Then other times there is this refrain within, “Why can’t I be like the way others are.” “Why do I have to think so much?” But I still know that it is part of me.
What is the purpose of my existence? At intuitive level, I know it is about "healing."
There are two planes I live in. And at times I judge myself as an imposter in both. For I don’t live both of them together; nor do I live them…. There is one within me that gets happy with the little things. For e.g., the other day we had gone to Bombay Gym for lunch – hosted courtesy my boss; today it was another place. It does feel good being there – the gentry, the works, the civilization etc. Yet, the moment, I step out, the question comes to haunt me, “for what?” There is one aspect of me that takes joy in buying a neat little cuff link, in picking up some good stuff, in buying and savouring a good Scotch, in just being “suave”. And then there is this other, that just has utter disregard for all this – this is so fake and fleeting.
It is this other that really questions all the little pleasures of life. I was sharing with a colleague of mine and she got concerned. The question that haunts me is, “for what?” The funny part is that in my mental scheme of things, either there has to be a negative push from the current situation or a positive pull from a desired future for action to happen. Yet, I find that I have neither circumstance in my life currently. I work with pleasure and I rest with pleasure. Paradoxically, even though I am happy, I do not find contentment.
My well wishers tell me that I should not think so much. But is it not “normal” to think of existential questions? After all, what is this life if not lived purposefully?
My boss tells me that it is all related to monotony and that I am trying to find a purpose and meaning in “work”; while real purpose and meaning lies elsewhere. I buy that thesis – but where do I get that purpose? How do I effect it? – for I know my purpose...
Is it that we give meanings in life? And live that meaning? Like a dear friend told me, “we all live the meaning we give to life – we do not live life.” How true – I ascribe meanings to all the things of life – the colour of the hat, the manner of speech, the socio-educational-economic background, the shoes worn. All are but meanings.
I remember JK who wrote somewhere that between someone in quest for inner peace and another in quest for hedonistic pleasure, there is no difference at a fundamental level. Both of them are still seeking; and real contentment comes not from seeking but from a deep understanding. From a deep understanding of what is and what should be.
Is it simply another phase of life? Or is it a desire to understand? I don’t know. I used to feel like Siddhartha earlier – in quest. But now while I am like Siddhartha, I do not feel like him.
I feel like myself. And “In Quest.”
Muse | On Relationships | 30th Jul. '09
In the train - on way back home. Met my brother after years. Don't like calling him my cousin - more like a brother. But that is odd. For it is not that I've been too closely in touch with him all this while in life. Still the bond remains.
Perhaps it is this shared common bond that makes a difference. Youngest of two sisters. Always protected and provided for. Physically too - we resemble a lot - both of us are have a slender built. And an intellectual (you may call it bookish) bent.
But that is not the point. The point is about relationships. What defines a relationship? Is it continuity of contact? Is it kinship? Is it shared meaning and purpose? Is it simply a bond?
Memories go back to childhood when we both spent a summer together after our sacred thread ceremony.
Then we grew up - each in different cities and on a different course in life.
A couple of years ago, he and I were in Bombay - but we hardly ever met. Our non meeting was punctuated by occasional visit of elders and then we would bump into each other. And this time he is back for a while after 2 yrs. in the U.S. And we did met - a while ago i.e.,. He married before leaving offshore - so it was the three of us.
It was as if life is still. An aspect of growing up that I missed. Maybe it would have been lovely to have spent more time together while growing up. Or maybe kept in regular touch thereafter. Does it really matter? I don't know. Yet, I know I like him and he likes me. And when we met, it was like meeting someone my own.
So what then defines a relationship? I am no longer any close to an answer than I was when I'd started off.
Perhaps it is this shared common bond that makes a difference. Youngest of two sisters. Always protected and provided for. Physically too - we resemble a lot - both of us are have a slender built. And an intellectual (you may call it bookish) bent.
But that is not the point. The point is about relationships. What defines a relationship? Is it continuity of contact? Is it kinship? Is it shared meaning and purpose? Is it simply a bond?
Memories go back to childhood when we both spent a summer together after our sacred thread ceremony.
Then we grew up - each in different cities and on a different course in life.
A couple of years ago, he and I were in Bombay - but we hardly ever met. Our non meeting was punctuated by occasional visit of elders and then we would bump into each other. And this time he is back for a while after 2 yrs. in the U.S. And we did met - a while ago i.e.,. He married before leaving offshore - so it was the three of us.
It was as if life is still. An aspect of growing up that I missed. Maybe it would have been lovely to have spent more time together while growing up. Or maybe kept in regular touch thereafter. Does it really matter? I don't know. Yet, I know I like him and he likes me. And when we met, it was like meeting someone my own.
So what then defines a relationship? I am no longer any close to an answer than I was when I'd started off.
Sunday, July 26, 2009
Musing on a Quiet Sunday evening | 26th Jul '09
It is a quiet Sunday evening. Remember the poem "Leisure" by Henry Davies. A senior colleague of mine introduced me to the poem. And like Davies, I wonder what life is about.
So here am I this Sunday evening, sitting by the big window overlooking the hills (with some green cover due to the rains) and enjoying the clouds passing by. I recollect that as a child, I would spend hours staring at the sky, the clouds, the stars and everything around. Contrast it with the life today which is spent in Bombay locals, laptop computers, books and sleep.
The other day, I was in conversation with a friend. I posed this question, which I pose to the blog too: what is the life that we will lead in time to come? My friends will laugh at me, but despite not being married, I wonder what will my kids grow in? Will they ever experience the joy of chasing a hen, of running after a cow and playing with her tail, of being kicked by a horse, of shooing away the birds that cover the sky the moment grain is spread out for drying?
A few years ago, my cousin had to take his son to a dairy to show him that milk indeed comes from cows and buffaloes. The little one picked up an argument with his school teacher who taught such nonsense, when he knew better - milk came from the Mother Dairy push button technology. Drop a small coin, and out pours the white liquid they call milk. I had laughed my guts out then, but come to think of it, I feel worried.
Every generation cribs about the forthcoming one. With that reality in mind and the realisation, I am not here to crib about the coming generation; but about my own generation. Actually, I am not going to crib - these are some of my own reflections - for myself - to make myself a bit more clear. In the process, if it helps you as a reader, so be it. The muse is for me.
So coming back: would I want to trade off my childhood to a Nintendo V (I didn't even know what it was till a few wise colleagues - wise after kids - of mine enlightened me). I remember that come winter, we would convert a part of our garden into an open air badminton court. It was time of great fun. A man would come over with a measuring tape and put some lime powder marking the court. Then the nets would be out and voila - we would all play badminton every evening as a family. The joy was in the game, and not to forget the fights between us siblings as to who would play first and for how long!!!
Maybe I was fortunate - to have been born and brought up in a rustic place. Perhaps that's the reason why I love rusticity. Why I associate 'civilisation' with plasticity. They are all meanings I give. I recognise my prejudices, but then I see that some of them are my preferences. Give me an option between a movie and sitting in the park, I would choose the latter. Offer me chocolate moose vs. a desi 'gulab jamun', you know by now what'll win hands down.
So why am I worried? Surely, one aspect is that the environment around has changed. But can I sit and crib about it? Is it fair? Is that not a choice I have made - a choice to be in the cacophony of a metropolis? Am I willing to admit, that other choice which possibly may be more affirming to me, may mean sacrificing a few other things that accompany city life - privacy, anonymity, comfort, opportunities and not to forget Godess Laxmi!
Maybe you'll say that I've got all the time in the world - what else will a single "unhooked" man do? Except be with himself. But then, the question does not get answered. Or are there ever any answers? Thus far, I don't think so - at best they are my tentative views. And in that moment, I take an option based on the limited view of life that I have. But seek I still must...
As I sign off, let me post the poem.
"LEISURE"
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 if, full of care,
We have no time to stand and stare.
By Wm. Henry Davies.
So here am I this Sunday evening, sitting by the big window overlooking the hills (with some green cover due to the rains) and enjoying the clouds passing by. I recollect that as a child, I would spend hours staring at the sky, the clouds, the stars and everything around. Contrast it with the life today which is spent in Bombay locals, laptop computers, books and sleep.
The other day, I was in conversation with a friend. I posed this question, which I pose to the blog too: what is the life that we will lead in time to come? My friends will laugh at me, but despite not being married, I wonder what will my kids grow in? Will they ever experience the joy of chasing a hen, of running after a cow and playing with her tail, of being kicked by a horse, of shooing away the birds that cover the sky the moment grain is spread out for drying?
A few years ago, my cousin had to take his son to a dairy to show him that milk indeed comes from cows and buffaloes. The little one picked up an argument with his school teacher who taught such nonsense, when he knew better - milk came from the Mother Dairy push button technology. Drop a small coin, and out pours the white liquid they call milk. I had laughed my guts out then, but come to think of it, I feel worried.
Every generation cribs about the forthcoming one. With that reality in mind and the realisation, I am not here to crib about the coming generation; but about my own generation. Actually, I am not going to crib - these are some of my own reflections - for myself - to make myself a bit more clear. In the process, if it helps you as a reader, so be it. The muse is for me.
So coming back: would I want to trade off my childhood to a Nintendo V (I didn't even know what it was till a few wise colleagues - wise after kids - of mine enlightened me). I remember that come winter, we would convert a part of our garden into an open air badminton court. It was time of great fun. A man would come over with a measuring tape and put some lime powder marking the court. Then the nets would be out and voila - we would all play badminton every evening as a family. The joy was in the game, and not to forget the fights between us siblings as to who would play first and for how long!!!
Maybe I was fortunate - to have been born and brought up in a rustic place. Perhaps that's the reason why I love rusticity. Why I associate 'civilisation' with plasticity. They are all meanings I give. I recognise my prejudices, but then I see that some of them are my preferences. Give me an option between a movie and sitting in the park, I would choose the latter. Offer me chocolate moose vs. a desi 'gulab jamun', you know by now what'll win hands down.
So why am I worried? Surely, one aspect is that the environment around has changed. But can I sit and crib about it? Is it fair? Is that not a choice I have made - a choice to be in the cacophony of a metropolis? Am I willing to admit, that other choice which possibly may be more affirming to me, may mean sacrificing a few other things that accompany city life - privacy, anonymity, comfort, opportunities and not to forget Godess Laxmi!
Maybe you'll say that I've got all the time in the world - what else will a single "unhooked" man do? Except be with himself. But then, the question does not get answered. Or are there ever any answers? Thus far, I don't think so - at best they are my tentative views. And in that moment, I take an option based on the limited view of life that I have. But seek I still must...
As I sign off, let me post the poem.
"LEISURE"
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 if, full of care,
We have no time to stand and stare.
By Wm. Henry Davies.
Wednesday, July 22, 2009
Muse | The Quest | The Search | 22nd Jul. '09
A quest – a search. For oneself – for meaning and purpose.
I find a paradox in me. Things that excited me do not excite me any more. Sometimes I ask myself a question, “Am I queer? Am I different from others?” Then other times there is this refrain within, “Why can’t I be like the way others are.” “Why do I have to think so much?” Yet, even without trying, thoughts simply come.
What is the purpose of my existence? I know in intuitive way, that it is about healing. Healing the self and in that providing a safe outlet for a few others to heal. I don’t know if that sounds pompous.
There are two planes I live in. And at times I judge myself as an imposter in both. For I don’t live both of them together; nor do I live them…. There is one within that gets happy with the little things. For e.g., we just returned from Bombay Gym where a few of my colleagues were taken by my boss for lunch. It was good being there – the gentry, the works, the civilization etc. yet, the moment, I stepped out of it, the question comes to haunt me, “for what?” But it is this former me that takes joy in buying a neat little cufflink, in picking up some good stuff, in buying and savouring a good Scotch, in
Then there is the other which really questions all of this. I was sharing with a colleague of mine and she got concerned. The question that haunts me is, “for what?” The funny part is that in my mental scheme of things, either there has to be a negative push from the current situation or a positive pull from a desired future for action to happen. Yet, I find that I have neither circumstance in my life currently. I work with pleasure and I rest with pleasure. Even though I am happy, I do not find contentment.
Is it simply another phase of life? I don’t know. I used to feel like Siddhartha earlier – in quest. But now while I am like Siddhartha, I do not feel like him.
I feel like myself – different. In quest.
I find a paradox in me. Things that excited me do not excite me any more. Sometimes I ask myself a question, “Am I queer? Am I different from others?” Then other times there is this refrain within, “Why can’t I be like the way others are.” “Why do I have to think so much?” Yet, even without trying, thoughts simply come.
What is the purpose of my existence? I know in intuitive way, that it is about healing. Healing the self and in that providing a safe outlet for a few others to heal. I don’t know if that sounds pompous.
There are two planes I live in. And at times I judge myself as an imposter in both. For I don’t live both of them together; nor do I live them…. There is one within that gets happy with the little things. For e.g., we just returned from Bombay Gym where a few of my colleagues were taken by my boss for lunch. It was good being there – the gentry, the works, the civilization etc. yet, the moment, I stepped out of it, the question comes to haunt me, “for what?” But it is this former me that takes joy in buying a neat little cufflink, in picking up some good stuff, in buying and savouring a good Scotch, in
Then there is the other which really questions all of this. I was sharing with a colleague of mine and she got concerned. The question that haunts me is, “for what?” The funny part is that in my mental scheme of things, either there has to be a negative push from the current situation or a positive pull from a desired future for action to happen. Yet, I find that I have neither circumstance in my life currently. I work with pleasure and I rest with pleasure. Even though I am happy, I do not find contentment.
Is it simply another phase of life? I don’t know. I used to feel like Siddhartha earlier – in quest. But now while I am like Siddhartha, I do not feel like him.
I feel like myself – different. In quest.
Tuesday, May 12, 2009
Muse for the Day | 11th May '09 | 'Trishanku' In Quest
I straddle 2 worlds. And I find it odd. Actually I don't. I am learning. That both stake claim to me. And yet paradoxically, neither defines me.
I work in South Mumbai, a posh residential area and prime work locale. Office is characterised by colleagues who have what you would call 'finesse'. There are of course a few dark horses like me who are learning the ropes. Yes. There is this aspiration within. To be part of that world. Yet, the more I have tried to be that, the more I distanced myself from me. My own inner self. Somehow, despite all efforts, some facade creeps in. Let me be careful to say that I do not say this of others but of myself.
Somewhere the touch of the earth is lost. In the manner of dress, of style, the base instincts get metamorphosed. They become subtle. In becoming suave, the spontaneity is lost. There is a 'measuredness' in the tone of voice, the expression of thoughts, the deportment of conduct. The child within is attenuated. As if a royal family child denied the environ.
And at night time, it is the reverse. The train ride, the crossing of creek, the walk from station to home, the interaction with vendors - it is an altogether different ball game. There is a sense of freedom. My sensibility baulks at the sight of a man walking carefree on the road wearing just a vest over his pants. Yet, I can't stop a smile when I see that. There is a sense of respect I have for that man too.
He is carefree. Not bothered about what you or I would think of him. He is blase to judgments. He is his own being. Given the humid heat, I too wish, I was in a far comfortable clothing. But I have some culture drilled onto me. The pedestrian is a sight. Of awe, of freedom. As I walked back today, I stopped by at my regular grocer. He was calm. His son sitting happily and chatting. His wife cutting coriander leaves (perhaps for dinner) with a smile on her face. He does not have much, but he seems to smile much more than I see folks do (including myself) at work.
I find it a paradox as I can relate to both of them. And yet neither one defines me. I feel like an 'in-betweener' if such a word exists. I was born and brought up in a small town place in India. The rusticity, the expression of emotions, the general purposelessness (not in a pejorative way, but in terms of non hankering for power), the silent acceptance of destiny, the will to strive and achieve, the need to save, the denial of pleasure in the moment (for a future), willingness to accommodate (if you want to experience it, find out by traveling in 1st class vs. 2nd class compartment in a Mumbai suburban local); I can see parts within me.
Crossing the creek (ah, the expression makes another sense to me now), I admire myself in polished shoes, ironed shirts, odour free body, the personal space (and non intrusion into my life). Talking about 'crossing the creek', my train crosses the creek to reach from Mumbai mainland to Navi Mumbai. But in ways more than one, I actually cross the creek.
So where do I stand? As I said, I can identify myself with both - aspects of it, yet neither of them defines me. So why is it a subject of muse? Because, when neither defines me, there is no security. There is a quest for identity.
I don't fit in perfectly in either - so I seek those who might be similarly in between 2 worlds. The same applies to all other spheres. I am as they say a 'Trishanku'. In Quest.
I work in South Mumbai, a posh residential area and prime work locale. Office is characterised by colleagues who have what you would call 'finesse'. There are of course a few dark horses like me who are learning the ropes. Yes. There is this aspiration within. To be part of that world. Yet, the more I have tried to be that, the more I distanced myself from me. My own inner self. Somehow, despite all efforts, some facade creeps in. Let me be careful to say that I do not say this of others but of myself.
Somewhere the touch of the earth is lost. In the manner of dress, of style, the base instincts get metamorphosed. They become subtle. In becoming suave, the spontaneity is lost. There is a 'measuredness' in the tone of voice, the expression of thoughts, the deportment of conduct. The child within is attenuated. As if a royal family child denied the environ.
And at night time, it is the reverse. The train ride, the crossing of creek, the walk from station to home, the interaction with vendors - it is an altogether different ball game. There is a sense of freedom. My sensibility baulks at the sight of a man walking carefree on the road wearing just a vest over his pants. Yet, I can't stop a smile when I see that. There is a sense of respect I have for that man too.
He is carefree. Not bothered about what you or I would think of him. He is blase to judgments. He is his own being. Given the humid heat, I too wish, I was in a far comfortable clothing. But I have some culture drilled onto me. The pedestrian is a sight. Of awe, of freedom. As I walked back today, I stopped by at my regular grocer. He was calm. His son sitting happily and chatting. His wife cutting coriander leaves (perhaps for dinner) with a smile on her face. He does not have much, but he seems to smile much more than I see folks do (including myself) at work.
I find it a paradox as I can relate to both of them. And yet neither one defines me. I feel like an 'in-betweener' if such a word exists. I was born and brought up in a small town place in India. The rusticity, the expression of emotions, the general purposelessness (not in a pejorative way, but in terms of non hankering for power), the silent acceptance of destiny, the will to strive and achieve, the need to save, the denial of pleasure in the moment (for a future), willingness to accommodate (if you want to experience it, find out by traveling in 1st class vs. 2nd class compartment in a Mumbai suburban local); I can see parts within me.
Crossing the creek (ah, the expression makes another sense to me now), I admire myself in polished shoes, ironed shirts, odour free body, the personal space (and non intrusion into my life). Talking about 'crossing the creek', my train crosses the creek to reach from Mumbai mainland to Navi Mumbai. But in ways more than one, I actually cross the creek.
So where do I stand? As I said, I can identify myself with both - aspects of it, yet neither of them defines me. So why is it a subject of muse? Because, when neither defines me, there is no security. There is a quest for identity.
I don't fit in perfectly in either - so I seek those who might be similarly in between 2 worlds. The same applies to all other spheres. I am as they say a 'Trishanku'. In Quest.
Sunday, May 3, 2009
Muse | On washing clothes, awareness | 3rd May '09
A forward once from a friend had it that we are here to learn lessons in life. And that we will keep getting things back till we learn the lesson.
I just completed washing clothes. Mind you - this is not the modern version of washing machine et. al. But the traditional ritual. Dip the clothes in a bucket of water, and then wash them. This is one thing in life (as far back as I can remember), I did not like. Rather, must confess, that I hated washing clothes. They were such a bore. But the universe time after time, provided me with situations where I had to wash them. Week after week. All on my own - poor me!
Now the paradox. Today, I am in a position to buy a washing machine. More than that, I have the space to keep one. But I am not inclined to buy one. "Why waste so much of water?" That's one thought. "Washing machines are good for sturdy big clothes, but not for delicate ones!" Ah - old wives tale; or should I say in my case, young bachelor's tales!
Let me confess, I have grown fond of washing clothes. You see, it is part of my structure now. If I don't spend an hour or two doing that over the weekend, what will I do? The joy of finding out the right amount of "soapiness" in water after the detergent - does wonders to my sense of ego as the personal agent! The joy of watching my own self, your my thoughts as I wash clothes.
Thoughts - well, that sets me thinking. They say that in our most private moments, our real self (or an aspect thereof) reveals itself to us. Washing clothes is an intensely private activity. With nothing between me and my clothes. Just the awareness.
Awareness - did I use that word. Am I aware of my thoughts as I wash my clothes? Or for that matter as I do anything? Am I aware of how my hands move, how the muscles contort to provide the rubbing action, how much water am I utilising? Are these trivial questions?
There is the story of a Zen master who for 10 years practiced Zen. One day, he goes to visit another master. He enters his hut and as he sits, the master (2nd one) asks him, "So, where did you keep your umbrella as you came in - to the right or to the left of the door?" The Zen master was embarrassed - he did not know the answer. And so he chose the 2nd man as his master and studied Zen under him - AGAIN!
Awareness. So what is awareness? How different is it from 'alertness'? A soldier on the battle front too is aware - or is he alert? I guess (and I am not sure) that awareness has to do with a sense of recognition of the present moment, without a judgment or a desire to act. Alertness is the sense of not just recognition of the present, but an anticipation of the future.
Ah. Definitions. How convenient is it for humans to provide a structure, a definition, a name - to box things. "Thingification" - as Kantha (my HR guru) calls it.
So where was I? On washing clothes? Was I aware or was I alert as I wrote this? And now you know why I like washing clothes now? It is an intensely private activity. And I can be with myself.
Myself - did I say myself! Does that mean "my-self" or "my thoughts"? What is it that I like and have grown fond of? My narcissism on the "enhanced self awareness while washing clothes"? That perhaps is for another blog :-)
I just completed washing clothes. Mind you - this is not the modern version of washing machine et. al. But the traditional ritual. Dip the clothes in a bucket of water, and then wash them. This is one thing in life (as far back as I can remember), I did not like. Rather, must confess, that I hated washing clothes. They were such a bore. But the universe time after time, provided me with situations where I had to wash them. Week after week. All on my own - poor me!
Now the paradox. Today, I am in a position to buy a washing machine. More than that, I have the space to keep one. But I am not inclined to buy one. "Why waste so much of water?" That's one thought. "Washing machines are good for sturdy big clothes, but not for delicate ones!" Ah - old wives tale; or should I say in my case, young bachelor's tales!
Let me confess, I have grown fond of washing clothes. You see, it is part of my structure now. If I don't spend an hour or two doing that over the weekend, what will I do? The joy of finding out the right amount of "soapiness" in water after the detergent - does wonders to my sense of ego as the personal agent! The joy of watching my own self, your my thoughts as I wash clothes.
Thoughts - well, that sets me thinking. They say that in our most private moments, our real self (or an aspect thereof) reveals itself to us. Washing clothes is an intensely private activity. With nothing between me and my clothes. Just the awareness.
Awareness - did I use that word. Am I aware of my thoughts as I wash my clothes? Or for that matter as I do anything? Am I aware of how my hands move, how the muscles contort to provide the rubbing action, how much water am I utilising? Are these trivial questions?
There is the story of a Zen master who for 10 years practiced Zen. One day, he goes to visit another master. He enters his hut and as he sits, the master (2nd one) asks him, "So, where did you keep your umbrella as you came in - to the right or to the left of the door?" The Zen master was embarrassed - he did not know the answer. And so he chose the 2nd man as his master and studied Zen under him - AGAIN!
Awareness. So what is awareness? How different is it from 'alertness'? A soldier on the battle front too is aware - or is he alert? I guess (and I am not sure) that awareness has to do with a sense of recognition of the present moment, without a judgment or a desire to act. Alertness is the sense of not just recognition of the present, but an anticipation of the future.
Ah. Definitions. How convenient is it for humans to provide a structure, a definition, a name - to box things. "Thingification" - as Kantha (my HR guru) calls it.
So where was I? On washing clothes? Was I aware or was I alert as I wrote this? And now you know why I like washing clothes now? It is an intensely private activity. And I can be with myself.
Myself - did I say myself! Does that mean "my-self" or "my thoughts"? What is it that I like and have grown fond of? My narcissism on the "enhanced self awareness while washing clothes"? That perhaps is for another blog :-)
Saturday, May 2, 2009
Muse for the day | On Abundance | 2nd May '09
Managing abundance is not easy. I just realised this. Having wished for abundance, I have it now - the abundance of time at least as I see it.
For the past some time, time just creates itself for me. Vacations coming on the way. Though going forward, I can see no further vacations for a while.
Back to abundance. I am wondering. Have I utilised this time well? Do I do so? Three days have gone by and one more day to go. What did I do? Aha - the natural propensity is to ask about "doing something."
I have this mental makeup that I can see. I have "to do" something in order to feel that time has been properly utilised. So time for me is a utility - to be utilised. We choose our words based on what we feel about issues / objects / things / ideas. If I accept that statement to be true, then this is what I feel about time. And this stems of course from the way I have been born and brought up - to use time. Time is a linear entity. Once it goes, it goes. And then what. Then the next time moment comes. So here am I sitting on a beautiful Saturday evening wondering about how well have I used the past three days.
Let me see what all did I do. I slept. Lots. Oh, it has been bliss. I read - stuff on Advaita Vedanta that I like reading. A friend of mine came over for a while today. I cleaned up the house. I washed my clothes (round one, another round due), I did some office work (some more pending that I had carried over for the long weekend). And yet, there is this feeling. Could I have done more? Surely, I could have. Like gone out of the house; met up with friends; chosen the curtains for my house; washed even more clothes (perhaps ironed them for good measure), completed my ISABS logs and what not.
But where am I right now? Where was I when I did what I did and did not do what I did not do? I was enjoying. I loved sleeping. I loved meeting my friend. I loved reading. But I must also admit that I also carried behind in the head a small tape recorder that said, 'XYZ is incomplete; PQR needs attention...'
Voices, voices, voices - sigh, voices all the way in the back of the head. Which voice is to be heard and which one to be ignored?
Abundance - I meander a lot. Back to that word. So where am I right now? I am thinking of my relation with time, with abundance. Managing paucity is easy. Actually, paucity manages you - its the other way round. But not so with abundance. How do I manage it?
Before that, 'is it a thing that needs to be managed?' Or is it something that is just there? I want to manage it - being a manager in professional life, has its rub on effect on other spheres of life! Feels like being in control! Bingo - that's the word. So that's what I have been after. Control - caught you young man. I need control of the world, of my things. Things that I think are mine. So the time is mine. And so is money. Gets me to another relations that I am wondering - when will there be abundance with money.
Actually, as I write this, I am getting more and more in touch with how I actually avoid abundance. When it comes, I want to manage it. I want to 'do' something about it - I want to control it. I want to make it my handmaiden. And I don't think that is what the universe wants.
Money. Is that why the universe is holding back - wanting me to learn how to handle abundance first before providing it in abundance :-)
For the past some time, time just creates itself for me. Vacations coming on the way. Though going forward, I can see no further vacations for a while.
Back to abundance. I am wondering. Have I utilised this time well? Do I do so? Three days have gone by and one more day to go. What did I do? Aha - the natural propensity is to ask about "doing something."
I have this mental makeup that I can see. I have "to do" something in order to feel that time has been properly utilised. So time for me is a utility - to be utilised. We choose our words based on what we feel about issues / objects / things / ideas. If I accept that statement to be true, then this is what I feel about time. And this stems of course from the way I have been born and brought up - to use time. Time is a linear entity. Once it goes, it goes. And then what. Then the next time moment comes. So here am I sitting on a beautiful Saturday evening wondering about how well have I used the past three days.
Let me see what all did I do. I slept. Lots. Oh, it has been bliss. I read - stuff on Advaita Vedanta that I like reading. A friend of mine came over for a while today. I cleaned up the house. I washed my clothes (round one, another round due), I did some office work (some more pending that I had carried over for the long weekend). And yet, there is this feeling. Could I have done more? Surely, I could have. Like gone out of the house; met up with friends; chosen the curtains for my house; washed even more clothes (perhaps ironed them for good measure), completed my ISABS logs and what not.
But where am I right now? Where was I when I did what I did and did not do what I did not do? I was enjoying. I loved sleeping. I loved meeting my friend. I loved reading. But I must also admit that I also carried behind in the head a small tape recorder that said, 'XYZ is incomplete; PQR needs attention...'
Voices, voices, voices - sigh, voices all the way in the back of the head. Which voice is to be heard and which one to be ignored?
Abundance - I meander a lot. Back to that word. So where am I right now? I am thinking of my relation with time, with abundance. Managing paucity is easy. Actually, paucity manages you - its the other way round. But not so with abundance. How do I manage it?
Before that, 'is it a thing that needs to be managed?' Or is it something that is just there? I want to manage it - being a manager in professional life, has its rub on effect on other spheres of life! Feels like being in control! Bingo - that's the word. So that's what I have been after. Control - caught you young man. I need control of the world, of my things. Things that I think are mine. So the time is mine. And so is money. Gets me to another relations that I am wondering - when will there be abundance with money.
Actually, as I write this, I am getting more and more in touch with how I actually avoid abundance. When it comes, I want to manage it. I want to 'do' something about it - I want to control it. I want to make it my handmaiden. And I don't think that is what the universe wants.
Money. Is that why the universe is holding back - wanting me to learn how to handle abundance first before providing it in abundance :-)
Saturday, April 25, 2009
Musings on Self | Reflections on "learning" | 25th Apr. '09
I am learning – from the child. Perhaps, I have stopped learning all this while; and after a few hard knocks, life is providing me with a moment to redeem myself.
I saw my nephew after almost a year and he has grown. Lovely and adorable he is; and totally “in the moment”. At 1.5 years of age, he is all of himself. He wants something, he goes and grabs for it. There is nothing between he and his immediate need. He needs mom, he shouts out; he needs dad, he shouts out.
Not to say that he is all innocent. He is shrewd too. If Dad scolds him, he starts making a sorrowful face and goes to his mom. His mom and dad of course realize his. What I find most revealing is how he keeps his face ready after he has done something. If there is appreciation forthcoming, he will display a big grin; if a frown is the response, he will turn it to a sorrowful face. And in that face, you can’t help but laugh and love him.
I had read all this while in child development how children learn. And learn they do so fast. Sets me thinking – I too was a child once. And this is how I learnt! So what was my free will? Save the immediate action of the moment; but after the reaction that came towards me, I altered myself. My own meaning was overshadowed by the conditioning. Yes, as part of growing up it was necessary for me. had I been let near a fire, I would have burnt myself. But it is not just the fire. In the process, I ignored my own fire. The fire within that I slowly now reclaim.
What is choice? This little one chooses – and everything that comes his way. He sees something new, explores it and then leaves it. I saw this and this blog came to me. What do I do? I see something; desire it; strive for it; and if I don’t get it, spend a lifetime doing something ‘correctional’. And that applies to anything. If I have done something I would not be too proud of, I carry it within me, with a smart question, “what is forgiveness?” – all this without attempting self forgiveness. And when I don’t forgive myself, how can I forgive the other?
Another question that strikes me is, “what is freedom?” “How free am I?” I look at this little one. He does what he wants (most of the times he is successful unless it is a life threatening situation). He teaches me there too. He is not ruffled too much by what has happened a moment before. He may have been scolded or loved a while ago, but that does not stop him from going out and exploring something in front – even if he has seen it before. He is free – of the moment of the past. Am I? Guess not – considering that seeing him, I asked this question of myself.
I remember a story I had read somewhere. A learned man was once asked by someone (like me) on what “freedom” is? “How free is indeed a human being?” The wise man asked him to stand on one leg and raise the other from the ground. The man did. The wise man then asked him to raise the other leg too – and the man was foxed. That is how free we are.
So how free am I? Freedom to me now has two meanings. The freedom “to act” and the freedom “to be”. The wise man’s question applies to the former. To the latter, I suppose (am still not very sure) it is about choice – like the one my nephew makes. To let go of the past moment (with no thought of the future) and be where he is.
I am also in deep reflection over what I see his struggles (and in that my own) of learning the laws. He did not mind the hazards of fire or electricity or anything like that. So he would go and touch everything. Either by force of experience or by forceful admonishment, he has learnt that it is safe to stay away from things that mom and dad call out with, “No – garam (Hindi for "hot"); or No – current”. The question to me is, “does his ignorance of the nature and law of the physical sciences stop the law from impacting him?” No. A fire burns, irrespective of whether you or I know that it burns. It is then for us to find out what is what.
So I get some hard knocks in life. I cry out – am not too happy. Is there something there that I have not yet learnt about the law. The law that operates in the realm of action is perhaps different from the law that applies to physical sciences. I think so – and life seems to be turning me towards that to teach me. I had this image of life as a signalman at the railway junction, gently moving a lever to move the train onto another track. Each track is learning – and life is changing a track for me. The question I have is, “am I willing to surrender and let be guided?” “Am I free to drive wherever I want to?” “Or perhaps, in all humility accept that neither do I make the rules for train or car driving.” These rules exist – and to learn to drive a car or a train, I need to learn the laws. I am free to learn how to drive the car or a train, albeit within the rules (the law governing that realm).
And I find that it is not easy for me to accept this. I am learning – that at times, I am not willing to learn!
I saw my nephew after almost a year and he has grown. Lovely and adorable he is; and totally “in the moment”. At 1.5 years of age, he is all of himself. He wants something, he goes and grabs for it. There is nothing between he and his immediate need. He needs mom, he shouts out; he needs dad, he shouts out.
Not to say that he is all innocent. He is shrewd too. If Dad scolds him, he starts making a sorrowful face and goes to his mom. His mom and dad of course realize his. What I find most revealing is how he keeps his face ready after he has done something. If there is appreciation forthcoming, he will display a big grin; if a frown is the response, he will turn it to a sorrowful face. And in that face, you can’t help but laugh and love him.
I had read all this while in child development how children learn. And learn they do so fast. Sets me thinking – I too was a child once. And this is how I learnt! So what was my free will? Save the immediate action of the moment; but after the reaction that came towards me, I altered myself. My own meaning was overshadowed by the conditioning. Yes, as part of growing up it was necessary for me. had I been let near a fire, I would have burnt myself. But it is not just the fire. In the process, I ignored my own fire. The fire within that I slowly now reclaim.
What is choice? This little one chooses – and everything that comes his way. He sees something new, explores it and then leaves it. I saw this and this blog came to me. What do I do? I see something; desire it; strive for it; and if I don’t get it, spend a lifetime doing something ‘correctional’. And that applies to anything. If I have done something I would not be too proud of, I carry it within me, with a smart question, “what is forgiveness?” – all this without attempting self forgiveness. And when I don’t forgive myself, how can I forgive the other?
Another question that strikes me is, “what is freedom?” “How free am I?” I look at this little one. He does what he wants (most of the times he is successful unless it is a life threatening situation). He teaches me there too. He is not ruffled too much by what has happened a moment before. He may have been scolded or loved a while ago, but that does not stop him from going out and exploring something in front – even if he has seen it before. He is free – of the moment of the past. Am I? Guess not – considering that seeing him, I asked this question of myself.
I remember a story I had read somewhere. A learned man was once asked by someone (like me) on what “freedom” is? “How free is indeed a human being?” The wise man asked him to stand on one leg and raise the other from the ground. The man did. The wise man then asked him to raise the other leg too – and the man was foxed. That is how free we are.
So how free am I? Freedom to me now has two meanings. The freedom “to act” and the freedom “to be”. The wise man’s question applies to the former. To the latter, I suppose (am still not very sure) it is about choice – like the one my nephew makes. To let go of the past moment (with no thought of the future) and be where he is.
I am also in deep reflection over what I see his struggles (and in that my own) of learning the laws. He did not mind the hazards of fire or electricity or anything like that. So he would go and touch everything. Either by force of experience or by forceful admonishment, he has learnt that it is safe to stay away from things that mom and dad call out with, “No – garam (Hindi for "hot"); or No – current”. The question to me is, “does his ignorance of the nature and law of the physical sciences stop the law from impacting him?” No. A fire burns, irrespective of whether you or I know that it burns. It is then for us to find out what is what.
So I get some hard knocks in life. I cry out – am not too happy. Is there something there that I have not yet learnt about the law. The law that operates in the realm of action is perhaps different from the law that applies to physical sciences. I think so – and life seems to be turning me towards that to teach me. I had this image of life as a signalman at the railway junction, gently moving a lever to move the train onto another track. Each track is learning – and life is changing a track for me. The question I have is, “am I willing to surrender and let be guided?” “Am I free to drive wherever I want to?” “Or perhaps, in all humility accept that neither do I make the rules for train or car driving.” These rules exist – and to learn to drive a car or a train, I need to learn the laws. I am free to learn how to drive the car or a train, albeit within the rules (the law governing that realm).
And I find that it is not easy for me to accept this. I am learning – that at times, I am not willing to learn!
Musings on Self | Questions on Questions | 21st Apr. '09
"How can you say that?" She looked at me incredulously. "I mean so openly. To share that requires... (her voice trailed off)."
What had I said?
That in my past I had relationships on the basis of 'kick me' philosophy. That I would go only 'this far' and after that let go? That while I said what I said, I invited rejection!
We had started talking about 'Who Am I'. I did the seminar (actually no word is a right word for it be it workshop or seminar or whatever). On the spur of the moment I asked her weekend plans. And she said nothing. I extended the invite to join in for the WAI.
What is it about? What does he teach? Is it religious? How do they organise it? When all is it held? So many questions.
So what does asking questions signify? Another question. I too ask too many questions. Under normal circumstances questioning is a symbol of seeking. Of the urge to know. But why does it then become self limiting for me at times? When I feel stuck as if at an impasse. With only frustration and anxiety.
So then there are two types of questions. One of the inquiry kind. The other of the inquisition kind. When I enquire, I am full of wonderment. Eager to absorb. When in inquisition, I am all set to prove. And I will only believe you when I have proof.
So do I really experience?
What had I said?
That in my past I had relationships on the basis of 'kick me' philosophy. That I would go only 'this far' and after that let go? That while I said what I said, I invited rejection!
We had started talking about 'Who Am I'. I did the seminar (actually no word is a right word for it be it workshop or seminar or whatever). On the spur of the moment I asked her weekend plans. And she said nothing. I extended the invite to join in for the WAI.
What is it about? What does he teach? Is it religious? How do they organise it? When all is it held? So many questions.
So what does asking questions signify? Another question. I too ask too many questions. Under normal circumstances questioning is a symbol of seeking. Of the urge to know. But why does it then become self limiting for me at times? When I feel stuck as if at an impasse. With only frustration and anxiety.
So then there are two types of questions. One of the inquiry kind. The other of the inquisition kind. When I enquire, I am full of wonderment. Eager to absorb. When in inquisition, I am all set to prove. And I will only believe you when I have proof.
So do I really experience?
Sunday, April 19, 2009
The Daily Muse | A dialogue and enquiry with my fear | 19th Apr. '09
I am scared. I just got in touch with it. Yesterday's muse was on what had occupied me. It still occupies me, albeit in a different way.
I was angry yesterday; I am scared today. Scared because as I was analysing and exploring my anger, I realised that I have no answers. And having no answers makes me feel insecure. It makes me feel incomplete. In that incompletion is my fear.
I was restless. So I picked up a JK book and searched for the topic of fear. If he has spoken about it. And right enough, he has.
"Fear exists in the conflict of opposites. The worship of success brings the fear of failure. Fear is the process of the mind in the struggle of becoming. In becoming good, there is the fear of evil; in being complete, there is the fear of loneliness; in becoming great, there is the fear of being small. Comparison is not understanding; it is prompted by fear of the unknown in relation to the known. Fear is uncertainty in search of security."
(J. Krishnamurti, Commentaries on Living - First Series, Fear, p163, Penguin Publishers).
But my fear also is deeper. It started the moment, a question popped in my head, "fine, all this happened; what next? What do you want to do? You asserted yourself; the matter is over. What do you want to do now?"
The answer is obvious - move on. That's what I want to do. For that is freedom. Being stuck in the past moment is painful. I find that I don't enjoy the joy of where and what I am right now by being in the past. But to let go, I have to let go also of some of the animosity that came along with within me. In the process of standing up for myself and resisting, I also shaped a part of me which would resist not just the issue, but the person too.
Being stuck where I was, they remain the same. But when I move, they too move. And then I have no issue, no grudge. And it starts with a fresh slate. It also means forgiving - for whatever
transgressions that may have happened. It means willing to let go of my own need for being treated in a particular way.
And that thought of forgiveness gives me fear. What if I am subsequently overwhelmed by them? What if people take advantage of me? And then immediately, I see myself doing an intellectual flight of defence, "Am I really the one to forgive? Who can forgive - only the one with strength; oh, so does that mean that I am not strong?"
Forgiveness is not only letting go of the attachment with the other, but also of the attachment within. It is not about an issue or a person; it is about my own structure and "should". There is a reality of hurt; at the same time, there is a possibility of forgiveness.
Aha - I think JK has a point when he says that fear exists only in relation between the known and the unknown. The unknown here for me is the future of the relationship in question. How will my colleagues be? What will it be like? What all dialogues will have to take place? What all emotions would need to be expressed and managed? What will I be like?
In the safety of, "I am right", there is great security. And the thought of stepping out of it makes me feel vulnerable. Scared. In where I stand, there is safety of holding on to something that is there right now. In letting go, there is the expanse of the unknown. And that is my fear. Understanding - yes, that is the word.
I just felt a silence after I had typed the last para. A dialogue within me that was going on; and writing as a process of clarifying the dialogue to myself. I guess it is true that understanding of "what is" leads to freedom.
So back to the question. Am I willing to let go? Am I willing to be vulnerable? The intuitive answer now leaps out a big "Yes".
What about the fear? Is it still there? Yes - it still is there. But now I understand it. The same fears exist - will I be shortchanged; will I be taken advantage of?
But why are those questions there? What is the relation between forgiveness / letting go and the fear of being taken advantage of? In saying the latter, where am I being? My reference frame is still of the past. Of the moment when a display of strength was needed?
Why is this need to display strength?
So that all around do not take me lightly?
But why?
Well, so that I am not pushed around?
Who pushes you around?
My fingers have paused here: I dread to see the answer. Which is obvious. If I say others, the
question is, 'who gave them that power?' And so it comes back to me. That I allow myself to be pushed around? Or is it that I push myself around?
What is the fear in being pushed around? Well, it just changes my concept of who I am. When I say, being pushed around, I refer to being different every time. And there is security in stability. In being what I am every time. But is that called living in the moment?
I took a long pause here and am back now typing further. That pause was a long pause of stillness - of some clicks in the head. As if some glass jig-saw puzzle pieces are moving in and producing a light 'click'. In that stillness, I was raw - emotional, vulnerable. And paradoxically, strong. Strong is not the right word. How do I describe the feeling of a stillness in the pit of the stomach? And in that moment nothing else matters - absolutely nothing. There is no need for a solution, no need to ask a question, no need to dwell on the past, and no need to dwell on the future. That is the feeling. I don't have the word - and I don't care.
I have experienced many a time earlier also. And so far, I would always say, "In my moments of greatest vulnerability, have been my greatest strengths."
I am not quite sure today about it. It is neither a moment of co-existence both nor is it a moment of absence of both. Both vulnerability and strength were present, and yet they were not.
Does is matter? I would just like to be with myself right now. The enquiry for now takes a pause.
Auf Wiedersehen.
I was angry yesterday; I am scared today. Scared because as I was analysing and exploring my anger, I realised that I have no answers. And having no answers makes me feel insecure. It makes me feel incomplete. In that incompletion is my fear.
I was restless. So I picked up a JK book and searched for the topic of fear. If he has spoken about it. And right enough, he has.
"Fear exists in the conflict of opposites. The worship of success brings the fear of failure. Fear is the process of the mind in the struggle of becoming. In becoming good, there is the fear of evil; in being complete, there is the fear of loneliness; in becoming great, there is the fear of being small. Comparison is not understanding; it is prompted by fear of the unknown in relation to the known. Fear is uncertainty in search of security."
(J. Krishnamurti, Commentaries on Living - First Series, Fear, p163, Penguin Publishers).
But my fear also is deeper. It started the moment, a question popped in my head, "fine, all this happened; what next? What do you want to do? You asserted yourself; the matter is over. What do you want to do now?"
The answer is obvious - move on. That's what I want to do. For that is freedom. Being stuck in the past moment is painful. I find that I don't enjoy the joy of where and what I am right now by being in the past. But to let go, I have to let go also of some of the animosity that came along with within me. In the process of standing up for myself and resisting, I also shaped a part of me which would resist not just the issue, but the person too.
Being stuck where I was, they remain the same. But when I move, they too move. And then I have no issue, no grudge. And it starts with a fresh slate. It also means forgiving - for whatever
transgressions that may have happened. It means willing to let go of my own need for being treated in a particular way.
And that thought of forgiveness gives me fear. What if I am subsequently overwhelmed by them? What if people take advantage of me? And then immediately, I see myself doing an intellectual flight of defence, "Am I really the one to forgive? Who can forgive - only the one with strength; oh, so does that mean that I am not strong?"
Forgiveness is not only letting go of the attachment with the other, but also of the attachment within. It is not about an issue or a person; it is about my own structure and "should". There is a reality of hurt; at the same time, there is a possibility of forgiveness.
Aha - I think JK has a point when he says that fear exists only in relation between the known and the unknown. The unknown here for me is the future of the relationship in question. How will my colleagues be? What will it be like? What all dialogues will have to take place? What all emotions would need to be expressed and managed? What will I be like?
In the safety of, "I am right", there is great security. And the thought of stepping out of it makes me feel vulnerable. Scared. In where I stand, there is safety of holding on to something that is there right now. In letting go, there is the expanse of the unknown. And that is my fear. Understanding - yes, that is the word.
I just felt a silence after I had typed the last para. A dialogue within me that was going on; and writing as a process of clarifying the dialogue to myself. I guess it is true that understanding of "what is" leads to freedom.
So back to the question. Am I willing to let go? Am I willing to be vulnerable? The intuitive answer now leaps out a big "Yes".
What about the fear? Is it still there? Yes - it still is there. But now I understand it. The same fears exist - will I be shortchanged; will I be taken advantage of?
But why are those questions there? What is the relation between forgiveness / letting go and the fear of being taken advantage of? In saying the latter, where am I being? My reference frame is still of the past. Of the moment when a display of strength was needed?
Why is this need to display strength?
So that all around do not take me lightly?
But why?
Well, so that I am not pushed around?
Who pushes you around?
My fingers have paused here: I dread to see the answer. Which is obvious. If I say others, the
question is, 'who gave them that power?' And so it comes back to me. That I allow myself to be pushed around? Or is it that I push myself around?
What is the fear in being pushed around? Well, it just changes my concept of who I am. When I say, being pushed around, I refer to being different every time. And there is security in stability. In being what I am every time. But is that called living in the moment?
I took a long pause here and am back now typing further. That pause was a long pause of stillness - of some clicks in the head. As if some glass jig-saw puzzle pieces are moving in and producing a light 'click'. In that stillness, I was raw - emotional, vulnerable. And paradoxically, strong. Strong is not the right word. How do I describe the feeling of a stillness in the pit of the stomach? And in that moment nothing else matters - absolutely nothing. There is no need for a solution, no need to ask a question, no need to dwell on the past, and no need to dwell on the future. That is the feeling. I don't have the word - and I don't care.
I have experienced many a time earlier also. And so far, I would always say, "In my moments of greatest vulnerability, have been my greatest strengths."
I am not quite sure today about it. It is neither a moment of co-existence both nor is it a moment of absence of both. Both vulnerability and strength were present, and yet they were not.
Does is matter? I would just like to be with myself right now. The enquiry for now takes a pause.
Auf Wiedersehen.
Saturday, April 18, 2009
The Daily Muse | On Anger and Myself | 18th Apr. '09
What is anger? What causes it? What is the root within that projects out anger? These and more are some questions that I have.
For, I was upset and angry yesterday. I had a huge row with a few colleagues. The specifics are not important (for this blog). But what is of meaning is that at the end of whole thing, I myself was surprised by the intensity of my anger. And that is what sets me thinking.
That I was angry, is not surprising to me. I was indeed upset over what was going on in the room. That there would be a tiff was not news to me - it just had to happen one day. In the name of "professional" behaviour, we mask our emotions and thereby the real issues - be at home or work. Emotions are not bad - we have to learn how to deal with them. And an emotions is not permanent - just like logic is not.
Well, I digressed. Back to my anger. What surprised me (and still does) is the intensity or ferocity of the anger. I am myself puzzled. As of course are quite a few of my colleagues. "You could become THIS angry - I never knew!" was one such comment. Well, yes - it has been quite a while since I was "THIS" angry!
Perhaps it might help to reflect and study on the moment. What happened in that moment of anger? I experienced agitation, trembling in the body, thirst in the stomach, readiness to give a jab - all aspects that i realised even then. Something that my graduation in life sciences teaches as "Adrenaline surge" - a fight or flight response.
But what happened mentally? I experienced being taken for granted; being pushed to the wall. And I had to resist. Frankly, I actually feel very very good that I resisted. And it was one solid hard resistance - a big smashing cut in a boxing match that knocks off the opponent stunned for a while. It feels good. Not the act of hitting out; but the act of resisting and standing up for myself.
I also feel good to note changes in me. Of not willing to hold on - to let the moment pass. I realised that the language at one moment that I used was not appropriate. So I've apologised to the concerned. And I feel good that I am able to differentiate that apology from what is still unacceptable to me. I can only clean up my backyard - I can't clean up the others! Having cleaned up mine, I am eager to move ahead.
I normally take life easily. Between a few heated words, it does not do any good to reply to every thing bit for bit. One can just let go. As I write, I recollect what I read in one book about teaching from the Mahabharata: that the middle path is important. Too much of goodness without self-assertion, leads to no good. It only encourages what should not be encouraged. Thus, too much of niceness from me also is not too good I guess.
Does that mean, I will be a nasty fellow from tomorrow? No! No way. But yes, where need be I will stand up for myself. As I have tried to do. What is important to me is not the "what", but the "how", albeit relatively. How do I stand up for myself is important. And which is why this reflection - how did I become "so" angry?
I have no answers, but only questions - that I throw up to the universe.
What is that hot spot that got triggered yesterday? Was there a projection or introjection involved? Was that a momentary spurt or is there something deep within that needs a closer and more attentive gaze?
In some form, I might get my answers; in some form, a leap beyond the need for answers :-).
Remember that quote from Aristotle:
"Anybody can become angry, that is easy; but to be angry with the right person, and to the right degree, and at the right time, and for the right purpose, and in the right way, that is not within everybody's power, that is not easy."
What bothers me is that I am not sure if I had the right degree and right way - the rest I am clear on. Ah - it helps...
For, I was upset and angry yesterday. I had a huge row with a few colleagues. The specifics are not important (for this blog). But what is of meaning is that at the end of whole thing, I myself was surprised by the intensity of my anger. And that is what sets me thinking.
That I was angry, is not surprising to me. I was indeed upset over what was going on in the room. That there would be a tiff was not news to me - it just had to happen one day. In the name of "professional" behaviour, we mask our emotions and thereby the real issues - be at home or work. Emotions are not bad - we have to learn how to deal with them. And an emotions is not permanent - just like logic is not.
Well, I digressed. Back to my anger. What surprised me (and still does) is the intensity or ferocity of the anger. I am myself puzzled. As of course are quite a few of my colleagues. "You could become THIS angry - I never knew!" was one such comment. Well, yes - it has been quite a while since I was "THIS" angry!
Perhaps it might help to reflect and study on the moment. What happened in that moment of anger? I experienced agitation, trembling in the body, thirst in the stomach, readiness to give a jab - all aspects that i realised even then. Something that my graduation in life sciences teaches as "Adrenaline surge" - a fight or flight response.
But what happened mentally? I experienced being taken for granted; being pushed to the wall. And I had to resist. Frankly, I actually feel very very good that I resisted. And it was one solid hard resistance - a big smashing cut in a boxing match that knocks off the opponent stunned for a while. It feels good. Not the act of hitting out; but the act of resisting and standing up for myself.
I also feel good to note changes in me. Of not willing to hold on - to let the moment pass. I realised that the language at one moment that I used was not appropriate. So I've apologised to the concerned. And I feel good that I am able to differentiate that apology from what is still unacceptable to me. I can only clean up my backyard - I can't clean up the others! Having cleaned up mine, I am eager to move ahead.
I normally take life easily. Between a few heated words, it does not do any good to reply to every thing bit for bit. One can just let go. As I write, I recollect what I read in one book about teaching from the Mahabharata: that the middle path is important. Too much of goodness without self-assertion, leads to no good. It only encourages what should not be encouraged. Thus, too much of niceness from me also is not too good I guess.
Does that mean, I will be a nasty fellow from tomorrow? No! No way. But yes, where need be I will stand up for myself. As I have tried to do. What is important to me is not the "what", but the "how", albeit relatively. How do I stand up for myself is important. And which is why this reflection - how did I become "so" angry?
I have no answers, but only questions - that I throw up to the universe.
What is that hot spot that got triggered yesterday? Was there a projection or introjection involved? Was that a momentary spurt or is there something deep within that needs a closer and more attentive gaze?
In some form, I might get my answers; in some form, a leap beyond the need for answers :-).
Remember that quote from Aristotle:
"Anybody can become angry, that is easy; but to be angry with the right person, and to the right degree, and at the right time, and for the right purpose, and in the right way, that is not within everybody's power, that is not easy."
What bothers me is that I am not sure if I had the right degree and right way - the rest I am clear on. Ah - it helps...
Musings on self | Meaningful Reflections | 18th Apr. '09
I was cleaning up my mailbox, and chanced upon a mail that I had sent to quite a few of my friends quite sometime back (last year). I had been through a few intense human processes at that moment of time, and had shared my reflections.
Reading them again, I found them meaningful and relevant even now. So I paste them here. The manner of writing is inspired from Carl Rogers:
1. It is not necessary to be a facilitator; what is important is to be a facilitative person.
2. If I run after a professional membership (of ISABS), it will elude me; if I try to be a person, it will be rewarding in itself (whether I become a professional member or not).
3. You don't become perfect after becoming a professional member.
4. The challenge is to reach a stage of "reflection in action" – that is something rewarding in itself.
5. I cannot hope to change myself by making action plans; nor can I change myself by lazing around – the key perhaps lies in accepting and then transcending.
6. Acceptance is not merely acknowledging and taking it as part of you, but not having judgments about it.
7. We will forever be lonely in life; I can fight being alone, but I cannot fight loneliness. Loneliness is not about not being with someone; it is about not enjoying my own company enough.
8. It is ok to be weak – so seek care and nurture. I am a human being and as long as I keep an overall perspective on growth, accepting weakness of the moment is not a digression.
9. In fact, some of the moments that gave me maximum strength and sparked a fire within me that burns have been those where I have been the most vulnerable.
10. I am willing to be hurt. Resisting or trying to be strong does not help.
11. "Process" is neither positive nor negative – it is my own judgment and connotation that makes it positive or negative.
12. Accepting myself for who I am and what I am is the most difficult task. The struggle continues. As soon as I accept one thing / aspect of myself, another one crops up.
13. Self growth is a never ending journey. And at times it is tiring – perhaps that is when I need to stop looking at it as a task to be accomplished. I cannot (not yet) and want to win over that freckle or the irritating part of me.
14. Reality has multiple faces – what you see could be different from mine. Accepting that multiple faces is not easy.
15. Personal growth is a question of choice made at that moment. Sometimes it is ok to choose to not grow – perhaps I need that stability at that moment. I should choose my growth path.
16. No moment is ever lost or does not come again – the karmic cycle comes, albeit delayed.
17. All "processes" are not ends in themselves. The attitude of, "how can I benefit from this" reaps rewards than, "I need to imbibe this process". Fanaticism of all forms does not help.
Today's additions:
18. Emotions are with me all the time. My willingness to acknowledge them is the first step to understanding them. In doing so, I understand myself.
19. Acknowledging and understanding of emotions is not only about "what " is happening to me, but "how"? What are the triggers, the hot-spots of mine and thereby what are the life scripts that I have and I live on?
20. Being "in the moment" is tough - considering that there is a life script that I tend to slip back onto so easily.
21. Sometimes, life is all about simply sitting still, have the wind ruffle your hair, a sense of contentment as a fed cat - with nothing to "do" the next moment. When the urge to chase (either the world or my own self development) has been silenced: in that moment lies the potential of transcendence.
Reading them again, I found them meaningful and relevant even now. So I paste them here. The manner of writing is inspired from Carl Rogers:
1. It is not necessary to be a facilitator; what is important is to be a facilitative person.
2. If I run after a professional membership (of ISABS), it will elude me; if I try to be a person, it will be rewarding in itself (whether I become a professional member or not).
3. You don't become perfect after becoming a professional member.
4. The challenge is to reach a stage of "reflection in action" – that is something rewarding in itself.
5. I cannot hope to change myself by making action plans; nor can I change myself by lazing around – the key perhaps lies in accepting and then transcending.
6. Acceptance is not merely acknowledging and taking it as part of you, but not having judgments about it.
7. We will forever be lonely in life; I can fight being alone, but I cannot fight loneliness. Loneliness is not about not being with someone; it is about not enjoying my own company enough.
8. It is ok to be weak – so seek care and nurture. I am a human being and as long as I keep an overall perspective on growth, accepting weakness of the moment is not a digression.
9. In fact, some of the moments that gave me maximum strength and sparked a fire within me that burns have been those where I have been the most vulnerable.
10. I am willing to be hurt. Resisting or trying to be strong does not help.
11. "Process" is neither positive nor negative – it is my own judgment and connotation that makes it positive or negative.
12. Accepting myself for who I am and what I am is the most difficult task. The struggle continues. As soon as I accept one thing / aspect of myself, another one crops up.
13. Self growth is a never ending journey. And at times it is tiring – perhaps that is when I need to stop looking at it as a task to be accomplished. I cannot (not yet) and want to win over that freckle or the irritating part of me.
14. Reality has multiple faces – what you see could be different from mine. Accepting that multiple faces is not easy.
15. Personal growth is a question of choice made at that moment. Sometimes it is ok to choose to not grow – perhaps I need that stability at that moment. I should choose my growth path.
16. No moment is ever lost or does not come again – the karmic cycle comes, albeit delayed.
17. All "processes" are not ends in themselves. The attitude of, "how can I benefit from this" reaps rewards than, "I need to imbibe this process". Fanaticism of all forms does not help.
Today's additions:
18. Emotions are with me all the time. My willingness to acknowledge them is the first step to understanding them. In doing so, I understand myself.
19. Acknowledging and understanding of emotions is not only about "what " is happening to me, but "how"? What are the triggers, the hot-spots of mine and thereby what are the life scripts that I have and I live on?
20. Being "in the moment" is tough - considering that there is a life script that I tend to slip back onto so easily.
21. Sometimes, life is all about simply sitting still, have the wind ruffle your hair, a sense of contentment as a fed cat - with nothing to "do" the next moment. When the urge to chase (either the world or my own self development) has been silenced: in that moment lies the potential of transcendence.
Thursday, April 16, 2009
The Daily Muse | What does it mean to "Muse" | 15th Apr. '09
So what does it mean to muse? I got rapid fire reactions from people as I put up my Blog. The day I decided to muse in public was also the day I updated my Orkut profile - with photographs and interest section et. al.
Oh my God - is that you? You have put up photographs.
Well yes, can't I?
Yes, but it is so unlike you.
So what is like me?
On my blog on relationships and marriage, I intuited right. One set found it insightful, another was in a reflective mode and a third set was confused. It validated the 3 states that I wrote for comment. The 1st group was this which said that they found a part of themselves in my muse. The 2nd group gave the emotionally detached look. The 3rd group ranged from the placid, 'what abstract you write' to the hostile, 'you say all this in your blog, but your weekends are all planned with your study group and not with a girl!'
So what is like me? And do I have to prove myself to others? Do I need to continue to be what I have been like? And be a dead wood in the process? I feel pained on the reactions that come with hidden hostility. Is it not ok to try and understand yourself? Is it not ok to work on yourself? Is it not ok to find meaning and joy in the process of discovery and learning? Is it not ok to pursue your own passion? Mostly the pain is about not being understood.
So why do I want to be understood? For in the reaction of another set - those who resonated with what I wrote - I felt content. And a spark of 'wow, I was there with someone'. And I like this - I shun the former.
So do I write a muse because I would like to be understood? To re-experience a communion externally what was actually internal?
One of my friends wrote, '...you seem to be asking... I see you 'on the edge'... where are you in this? What's happening to you?...' I got worked up by that comment, 'here am I expressing myself, and here is this bugger asking me where I was!'
What does it mean to be there - does it mean to perpetually be in the experience? The other day I wrote in my journal on my current state of life, 'I feel like a traveler who is on a vast plateau - with no way to turn back - and no future road ahead. And in that moment of utter helpless loneliness, I feel weary and tired. I feel intoxicated by the sheer power of the moment. I feel like a budding seed - a germinating sprout - pregnant with the joy of growth and abundance.' But however hard I try, the words don't do justice. They are just approximations that my current cognitive and linguistic capabilities can express.
Is it not paradoxical. When I experience, I can't express. And when I express, I describe a past experience - a memory of the moment gone by. And that is mauled, battered, raped by the cunning mind, the ever eager to impress ego and the brain. In the name of adorning and expressing it aesthetically, it is pillaged and plundered. And when it lands on a blog or a journal, it is not the experience, but a memory, a figment, a word craft with past and current residual emotions.
Or could I call it a muse?
Oh my God - is that you? You have put up photographs.
Well yes, can't I?
Yes, but it is so unlike you.
So what is like me?
On my blog on relationships and marriage, I intuited right. One set found it insightful, another was in a reflective mode and a third set was confused. It validated the 3 states that I wrote for comment. The 1st group was this which said that they found a part of themselves in my muse. The 2nd group gave the emotionally detached look. The 3rd group ranged from the placid, 'what abstract you write' to the hostile, 'you say all this in your blog, but your weekends are all planned with your study group and not with a girl!'
So what is like me? And do I have to prove myself to others? Do I need to continue to be what I have been like? And be a dead wood in the process? I feel pained on the reactions that come with hidden hostility. Is it not ok to try and understand yourself? Is it not ok to work on yourself? Is it not ok to find meaning and joy in the process of discovery and learning? Is it not ok to pursue your own passion? Mostly the pain is about not being understood.
So why do I want to be understood? For in the reaction of another set - those who resonated with what I wrote - I felt content. And a spark of 'wow, I was there with someone'. And I like this - I shun the former.
So do I write a muse because I would like to be understood? To re-experience a communion externally what was actually internal?
One of my friends wrote, '...you seem to be asking... I see you 'on the edge'... where are you in this? What's happening to you?...' I got worked up by that comment, 'here am I expressing myself, and here is this bugger asking me where I was!'
What does it mean to be there - does it mean to perpetually be in the experience? The other day I wrote in my journal on my current state of life, 'I feel like a traveler who is on a vast plateau - with no way to turn back - and no future road ahead. And in that moment of utter helpless loneliness, I feel weary and tired. I feel intoxicated by the sheer power of the moment. I feel like a budding seed - a germinating sprout - pregnant with the joy of growth and abundance.' But however hard I try, the words don't do justice. They are just approximations that my current cognitive and linguistic capabilities can express.
Is it not paradoxical. When I experience, I can't express. And when I express, I describe a past experience - a memory of the moment gone by. And that is mauled, battered, raped by the cunning mind, the ever eager to impress ego and the brain. In the name of adorning and expressing it aesthetically, it is pillaged and plundered. And when it lands on a blog or a journal, it is not the experience, but a memory, a figment, a word craft with past and current residual emotions.
Or could I call it a muse?
Sunday, April 12, 2009
The Daily Muse | Marriage & Relationship | 12th Apr. '09
Good News. My friend sent a text stating that his 'roka' has happened. {Roka: Hindi word derived from the root which means, 'to stop / put hold to.' In this context, refers to a ceremony prior to a formal engagement. This is the time both parties stop looking out for a prospective partner}.
Well, I feel so happy for him. There have been so many struggles for him. And in many of them, I can identify. Being a single, uncommitted male is not easy. Contrary to what many may think, life is not a bed of roses.
First, of course are the distant family members who leave no stone unturned in poking the rib, "...so when are you getting married? Its high time." Heck - do girls grow on trees? That I go and pluck them? Then of course, come the so called friends, "...what are you doing? She is such a good girl - the right one for you..." And they go about trying to get you hitched. Then come the last of the lot, "...is everything ok? Hope no alternate preferences?" Well, sounds funny, but when you go through it, it is not.
The point is not about marriage, nor is it about preferences. It is simply about my own dignity as a human being? Am I really incomplete without marriage? No - I don't say that I won't get married; with a right person, I will settle down. But what is this hurry to get hitched?
And if marriage is about a commitment and a relationship, then why is there such a brouhaha about 'conventions'? Is it that we are too scared to question ourselves?
What is the purpose of marriage? From an evolutionary perspective, it is about ensuring perpetuation of species. But talk as we will at a philosophical and psychological level, what is it really about? Is it not about relationship? In building relationship with one, a person builds up a family which in turns builds up the society. To my judgment, a marriage is as much about family as much it is about appreciating the opposite sexuality as projected out and slowly over time finding a manifestation of the same within? For a man, it is about coming to terms with feminity and for a woman, about coming to terms with masculinity?
The individual starts with his / her need first and places it before the society for its fulfillment. In order that a fair process takes place, society builds around that process / transaction a set of contracts, which convey the expectations and over time become conventions. So to my mind, managing a family and thereby society are the contracts; the individual need is to merge with an aspect of self that he/she has not yet found within. Call if found within, unacknowledged, rejected or projected out - whatever it may be. Perhaps this is topic for another enquiry.
But do I not have both the masculine and feminine self within? Is not the purpose of life to integrate both within our self? Not having a partner then is not so much about another person missing in life, but about an aspect of my own self missing.
If I pine for a woman, then does it mean that I am "normal?" Or does it simply a reflection of the unacknowledged and unexplored feminity within? Reverse would be the case for a woman. I recollect Eric Fromm in "The Art of Loving". At one place, he speaks about two people hopelessly falling in love. They talk about it as a sign of true love; but in reality, it is only an expression of the earlier utter loneliness. Can loneliness ever be cured by presence of another?
Or am I confusing being alone with being lonely? The more I see it, the more I realise that I will forever be lonely in life. I can manage not being alone - the social circuit takes care of it. But in my deepest of moments, I am utterly helplessly lonely. My moments of utmost profundity, bliss, deepest agony - all have been with myself. The only communion I had was with my inner self. If this be the experience I have, and nothing could be truer than the experience, then, why is it that at times I still try to not be lonely.
I recollect that on one occasion, I'd written in my journal, "Loneliness is not about not being with someone, it is about not enjoying my own company completely."
While, I do recognise and experience what I write, I also experience at times a desire that this loneliness be wished away. Is this then a question of "understanding the truth of loneliness" vs. the "truth of desire"? What is the issue then? Is it the conflict of understanding of the truth of "what is" with the desire / hope of "what could be"? Perhaps.
As a logical step, understanding 'what is' is about being in the moment; while desire for 'what could be' is about a flight to a place that is away from the moment, from the 'here and now'.
But a question comes to me, "If I were to accept 'what is', then what is the motivation to move forward?" Would not everything be ok and acceptable then? This incidentally is a question not just for the specific issue of relationships, but also for our whole lives? Would it not lead to inactivity (or 'tamas' as they call it?) I ask this, as I am tempted at times. Or have I understood this wrong somewhere?
I have no answer. Am stuck. Food for thought as I push off to sleep. In that moment of utter loneliness, possibilities emerge. Hey - talking of sleep and loneliness therein, why is it that I have a negative connotation of the word 'loneliness'? Is not sleep the most enjoyable thing - for me? So is it the situational and contextual meaning that I give? Which comes from my pain of ''what is not" which in turn comes from a desire for "what could be"?
Circles - all the way. Having written all this, I come to the circle again. I still feel happy for my friend. His text radiated the joy of a heart. And in this moment, he is pure joy. And is joy not about communion with my own self - in its complete loneliness?
I started off with relationship, meandered all the way, and am back to it - relationship. With another query: what indeed is a "relationship"?
Well, I feel so happy for him. There have been so many struggles for him. And in many of them, I can identify. Being a single, uncommitted male is not easy. Contrary to what many may think, life is not a bed of roses.
First, of course are the distant family members who leave no stone unturned in poking the rib, "...so when are you getting married? Its high time." Heck - do girls grow on trees? That I go and pluck them? Then of course, come the so called friends, "...what are you doing? She is such a good girl - the right one for you..." And they go about trying to get you hitched. Then come the last of the lot, "...is everything ok? Hope no alternate preferences?" Well, sounds funny, but when you go through it, it is not.
The point is not about marriage, nor is it about preferences. It is simply about my own dignity as a human being? Am I really incomplete without marriage? No - I don't say that I won't get married; with a right person, I will settle down. But what is this hurry to get hitched?
And if marriage is about a commitment and a relationship, then why is there such a brouhaha about 'conventions'? Is it that we are too scared to question ourselves?
What is the purpose of marriage? From an evolutionary perspective, it is about ensuring perpetuation of species. But talk as we will at a philosophical and psychological level, what is it really about? Is it not about relationship? In building relationship with one, a person builds up a family which in turns builds up the society. To my judgment, a marriage is as much about family as much it is about appreciating the opposite sexuality as projected out and slowly over time finding a manifestation of the same within? For a man, it is about coming to terms with feminity and for a woman, about coming to terms with masculinity?
The individual starts with his / her need first and places it before the society for its fulfillment. In order that a fair process takes place, society builds around that process / transaction a set of contracts, which convey the expectations and over time become conventions. So to my mind, managing a family and thereby society are the contracts; the individual need is to merge with an aspect of self that he/she has not yet found within. Call if found within, unacknowledged, rejected or projected out - whatever it may be. Perhaps this is topic for another enquiry.
But do I not have both the masculine and feminine self within? Is not the purpose of life to integrate both within our self? Not having a partner then is not so much about another person missing in life, but about an aspect of my own self missing.
If I pine for a woman, then does it mean that I am "normal?" Or does it simply a reflection of the unacknowledged and unexplored feminity within? Reverse would be the case for a woman. I recollect Eric Fromm in "The Art of Loving". At one place, he speaks about two people hopelessly falling in love. They talk about it as a sign of true love; but in reality, it is only an expression of the earlier utter loneliness. Can loneliness ever be cured by presence of another?
Or am I confusing being alone with being lonely? The more I see it, the more I realise that I will forever be lonely in life. I can manage not being alone - the social circuit takes care of it. But in my deepest of moments, I am utterly helplessly lonely. My moments of utmost profundity, bliss, deepest agony - all have been with myself. The only communion I had was with my inner self. If this be the experience I have, and nothing could be truer than the experience, then, why is it that at times I still try to not be lonely.
I recollect that on one occasion, I'd written in my journal, "Loneliness is not about not being with someone, it is about not enjoying my own company completely."
While, I do recognise and experience what I write, I also experience at times a desire that this loneliness be wished away. Is this then a question of "understanding the truth of loneliness" vs. the "truth of desire"? What is the issue then? Is it the conflict of understanding of the truth of "what is" with the desire / hope of "what could be"? Perhaps.
As a logical step, understanding 'what is' is about being in the moment; while desire for 'what could be' is about a flight to a place that is away from the moment, from the 'here and now'.
But a question comes to me, "If I were to accept 'what is', then what is the motivation to move forward?" Would not everything be ok and acceptable then? This incidentally is a question not just for the specific issue of relationships, but also for our whole lives? Would it not lead to inactivity (or 'tamas' as they call it?) I ask this, as I am tempted at times. Or have I understood this wrong somewhere?
I have no answer. Am stuck. Food for thought as I push off to sleep. In that moment of utter loneliness, possibilities emerge. Hey - talking of sleep and loneliness therein, why is it that I have a negative connotation of the word 'loneliness'? Is not sleep the most enjoyable thing - for me? So is it the situational and contextual meaning that I give? Which comes from my pain of ''what is not" which in turn comes from a desire for "what could be"?
Circles - all the way. Having written all this, I come to the circle again. I still feel happy for my friend. His text radiated the joy of a heart. And in this moment, he is pure joy. And is joy not about communion with my own self - in its complete loneliness?
I started off with relationship, meandered all the way, and am back to it - relationship. With another query: what indeed is a "relationship"?
The Daily Muse | Perspectives (contd.) | 27th Mar. '09
Talking of perspectives, here’s some more musings. Albeit random…
Life is full of contradictions; and in those contradictions is hidden some truth. Scarce did I realize that I would be here again penning my angst and emotional state.
Late last night, I got a call from 2 people in my society. It transpires that Wed. night, there was a break-in in 2 flats in our society – my neighbour’s and mine. We have 4 flats on our wing and 2 are unoccupied. While we were away during the day, someone broke in our houses.
I felt stunned – actually not. Mixed emotions; as if a sense of continuity – first the missing phone and then this event. And yet both have similarities. In both cases, there was loss, an acceptance of it and thereafter a mild shock. My friend tells me (he rushed over to the place to figure out things) that nothing material has gone out.
Having said that, I feel a bit naked – it is not about anything material having been taken away, but the feeling of utter loss and helplessness. As if someone has raided. Also a sense of, ‘why not face me directly man? Why this stealth?’ In this, I see perspective – the pain on a theft (or attempted – in this case) is not only of a loss of things, but also a loss of inner innocence and faith.
Yet the question comes, ‘what do I choose?’ Yes, there is pain, there is hurt; but should this lead me to view all with suspicion? Given our hectic work lives, we’ve hardly met each other (we refers to all of us living in the society – almost all of us travel at least 1-2 hours to work). And yet, it was 2 of my society fellows who helped me yesterday. It was my neighbour who I’ve met only twice, who took my friend to the police station to get a clearance for sealing the house on my behalf. Help from all who were not known to me. What goes around, comes / goes.
Yet the question comes, ‘what do I choose?’ Yes, there is pain, there is hurt; but should this lead me to view all with suspicion? Given our hectic work lives, we’ve hardly met each other (we refers to all of us living in the society – almost all of us travel at least 1-2 hours to work). And yet, it was 2 of my society fellows who helped me yesterday. It was my neighbour who I’ve met only twice, who took my friend to the police station to get a clearance for sealing the house on my behalf. Help from all who were not known to me. What goes around, comes / goes.
I was returning from the temple a while ago and got up thinking that my stop was about to come. The conductor thrust the hand of a blind man in my hand and told me to help him cross the road. I did that and after I had put him in the bus he wanted to be in, I realized that I had got down at the wrong stop. As if he had chosen me to help him. That I was talking with my sister and lost on road sense was another facilitating factor. I remembered the “blind walk” and realized that I actually did not have to do anything. I just had to hold his hand and tell him once in a while on the incline / steps etc.
As a survey of my house and information given on phone by my neighbours, society friends and my colleague, I realized that nothing material had actually gone. Apparently the thieves were after cash and valuables. What is valuable? I am actually thinking. My neighbours and friend confirm that the books are there, so are a few pens that I have (though one seems to be missing), so are the other accessories as well as a small collection I have of Scotch. What is of value to me vs. what is of value to another. Is it not a shifting perspective. For the thieves, a Cross pen did not hold any value, nor did the books hold any value; yet perhaps for a behavioural science student, some of the books in my collection may be worth salivating over. So what is value for me – I see that over time for me too, it has shifted.
My first Q&A session with Anirban (a society friend) was, “can you see a black leather bag – yes – open it – done – can you see my certificates – yes – thank you, and please keep this with you”. It taught me as much about my own mental makeup as much about the thieves. My own attachments to my books, to my certificates – and in that I remembered something I’d read, “attachments are attachments – whatever they may be with”. It also does not mean, throwing the baby out with the bathwater – getting rid of things is not the solution. Nor is avoidance.
At the temple, the swamiji was giving a lecture on “Brahma” (the Advaita Vedantin’s perspective on reality) and he put one thing very succinctly. He asked, “If you were to travel from Kanyakumari to Kashmir and know that a dear friend will receive you at Jammu station, then while you start your journey, is your friend near or far from you? Taking that further, if you complete the 3 day journey as most people do, was your neighbour in train near or far from you?” “So what is distance?” “Is that Brahma near or far from you?” “Because I am not focused on so many things in life, I am not in touch with my self. to get to my self, I do not have to do anything, I just have to drop all that I am glued to.”
Indeed – what is distance. My neighbour, who till yesterday, I’d met only once and know as a name and as someone working in another Tata company today is different to me. And nothing seems to have changed – what has changed is something within me. What – I care not at this point of time. While being acutely awareness of that awareness!!!
I’d started off on contradictions. Well, so here they are. I can in some ways relate to the analogy of life being a vast play. And on occasions, I become fascinated with a part, play that and when time comes for change of cast, I resist. Not playing the part is not the answer. And I see merit in what Swami Vivekananda had once said, “Develop within you the power to detach. Work as if your whole life depended on it; put your heart and soul into it; but when the time comes to give it up, pick up and move on.”
Ah – writing helps. A catharsis, and a perspective building for myself. A small note of gratitude to all of you for being there as a clearing ground for my own perspective building…
Love,
P.S.: I get a sense that the mythological story of “samudra manthan” (churning of oceans – and the 10 things that come out subsequently) is about the churning within. As we start on our journey of self development and growth, churning happens and in that churning are produced various things. In the focus on the outcome, I see that I forget the process of churning. In the mythical story, even at the end, one ‘asura’ remained (Rahu-Ketu), and so did the ‘Devs’; but perhaps that is not what the story intends to convey. What does it actually intend to convey – I don’t know yet; perhaps in some time I’ll know the answer…
P.S.: I get a sense that the mythological story of “samudra manthan” (churning of oceans – and the 10 things that come out subsequently) is about the churning within. As we start on our journey of self development and growth, churning happens and in that churning are produced various things. In the focus on the outcome, I see that I forget the process of churning. In the mythical story, even at the end, one ‘asura’ remained (Rahu-Ketu), and so did the ‘Devs’; but perhaps that is not what the story intends to convey. What does it actually intend to convey – I don’t know yet; perhaps in some time I’ll know the answer…
The Daily Muse | Perspectives | 25th Mar. '09
Life is about perspectives and our journey is about expanding those perspectives.
I sit here in the train on way to Delhi enjoying the joys of August Kranti Rajdhani and the fact that there is power to charge my laptop and mobile phone.
Mobile phone – perspective… What about that? Let me tell you a short story.
I left office at around 4, got into the ATM (building next to office) and then got into a cab for Mumbai Central. Half way through I realized that the mobile phone had been left to cool itself over the ATM machine. Stopped by at a PCO, and called up a couple of colleagues at the office number. A few tries later, got in touch with one of them and requested her help. She went to the bank only to be told by a lady there that she will need to prove that I have indeed asked her to get the mobile.
When I call up again (on reaching Central), I get to hear the missing piece of info. and so I call up the lady (God bless her) and tell my story. Kavita (my colleague) goes there again and she gets the phone. Another colleague of mine then sprints from office to Churchgate, takes a fast train and gets to Mumbai Central – at 5.21 (ample time to spare – given that 5.40 is departure). He recognizes me siting with laptop open and communicating with my colleagues over mails.
What happened to me? At the moment of realization of “missing” phone a sense of distress. “Oh my God – how daft and absent minded of me?” A stark contrast to a thought that had come to me as I boarded the cab (outside the bank), “awareness is about being aware that you are aware…” And here I was – aware of my distress. Of my attachment. As realization sunk it, the mind played games – what if, what if not. And some voice also spoke, “so what? Does the world collapse – is your world in that?” I must admit that peace did not come, but a face to face encounter with my own self.
I have a hypothesis which I shared with a friend of mine the other day, “we as much do not accept our superior as much we shirk confronting our inferior”. Being in the moment and aware of it, is oxymoron – a deafening silence. Actually Hindi has a better word, “nistabdh” – I can’t translate it.
Where am I right now? A realization of the game of life and a lesson – that the game goes on. Nothing changes – every moment is a choice. The other day, I was reading a lecture by JK, and after a few lines, I found myself in communion with myself in a deep introspective silence all the way to office (in the morning train). Enquiring from someone, JK asked, (not verbatim) “…so what is there in your self esteem that you hold on to? It is not what we have that we fear or what we don’t have what we fear but the fall that we fear. We are constantly placing ourselves on a pedestal and when the fall happens, we suffer. Is it necessary? Remove the pedestal and you won’t fall. Then you will be able to see the reality as it IS – and when you see yourself the way you are, without judgment or desire, you will find peace. Judge, and peace is not; love and peace is.”
What does it mean – and awareness of the pedestal of “spiritual growth”, the pedestal of “knowledge”, the pedestal of “emotional maturity” – all pedestals. With it comes my judgments – oh my God, “how could I do something like this?” The “Who Me!!! Syndrome”
I see that I have meandered – in between witnessing the farewell exchanges of a family at Borivli station. Back to the phone – actually the story does not matter anymore. I write as I write. Seeing the flow of life; the train chugs along, the moments go by.
I go off to enjoying the journey – what is journey? Suddenly, each word seems to pick on a new meaning and a new context.
हमारे सफर में एक हमसफ़र है
कोई आपने साथ है
कोई एक ऐसी बात है
कोई तो एक राज़ है
उस राज़ की राह में मैं मुसाफिर
कभी खुदा तो कभी काफिर
अपनी ही खोज में खो गया
हिमगिरी की एक बूँद नया
जा रहा हूँ मैं एक पथिक
अपनी ही घटना में हूँ घटित
यह राज़ जो मुझ से छुपाया
ऐ खुदा तू तो निर्दय हुआ
पर जब उसका हल भी तूने बताया
तब बनाया मैंने तुझे खुदा
इस उल्झान में ही मैं बाँध गया
अपने से ही दूर हुआ
मेरा हमसफ़र ही तो है तू
जब अक्ल आई – तो क्या मैं, और क्या तू?
Chalo then – I sign off for now…
I left office at around 4, got into the ATM (building next to office) and then got into a cab for Mumbai Central. Half way through I realized that the mobile phone had been left to cool itself over the ATM machine. Stopped by at a PCO, and called up a couple of colleagues at the office number. A few tries later, got in touch with one of them and requested her help. She went to the bank only to be told by a lady there that she will need to prove that I have indeed asked her to get the mobile.
When I call up again (on reaching Central), I get to hear the missing piece of info. and so I call up the lady (God bless her) and tell my story. Kavita (my colleague) goes there again and she gets the phone. Another colleague of mine then sprints from office to Churchgate, takes a fast train and gets to Mumbai Central – at 5.21 (ample time to spare – given that 5.40 is departure). He recognizes me siting with laptop open and communicating with my colleagues over mails.
What happened to me? At the moment of realization of “missing” phone a sense of distress. “Oh my God – how daft and absent minded of me?” A stark contrast to a thought that had come to me as I boarded the cab (outside the bank), “awareness is about being aware that you are aware…” And here I was – aware of my distress. Of my attachment. As realization sunk it, the mind played games – what if, what if not. And some voice also spoke, “so what? Does the world collapse – is your world in that?” I must admit that peace did not come, but a face to face encounter with my own self.
I have a hypothesis which I shared with a friend of mine the other day, “we as much do not accept our superior as much we shirk confronting our inferior”. Being in the moment and aware of it, is oxymoron – a deafening silence. Actually Hindi has a better word, “nistabdh” – I can’t translate it.
Where am I right now? A realization of the game of life and a lesson – that the game goes on. Nothing changes – every moment is a choice. The other day, I was reading a lecture by JK, and after a few lines, I found myself in communion with myself in a deep introspective silence all the way to office (in the morning train). Enquiring from someone, JK asked, (not verbatim) “…so what is there in your self esteem that you hold on to? It is not what we have that we fear or what we don’t have what we fear but the fall that we fear. We are constantly placing ourselves on a pedestal and when the fall happens, we suffer. Is it necessary? Remove the pedestal and you won’t fall. Then you will be able to see the reality as it IS – and when you see yourself the way you are, without judgment or desire, you will find peace. Judge, and peace is not; love and peace is.”
What does it mean – and awareness of the pedestal of “spiritual growth”, the pedestal of “knowledge”, the pedestal of “emotional maturity” – all pedestals. With it comes my judgments – oh my God, “how could I do something like this?” The “Who Me!!! Syndrome”
I see that I have meandered – in between witnessing the farewell exchanges of a family at Borivli station. Back to the phone – actually the story does not matter anymore. I write as I write. Seeing the flow of life; the train chugs along, the moments go by.
I go off to enjoying the journey – what is journey? Suddenly, each word seems to pick on a new meaning and a new context.
हमारे सफर में एक हमसफ़र है
कोई आपने साथ है
कोई एक ऐसी बात है
कोई तो एक राज़ है
उस राज़ की राह में मैं मुसाफिर
कभी खुदा तो कभी काफिर
अपनी ही खोज में खो गया
हिमगिरी की एक बूँद नया
जा रहा हूँ मैं एक पथिक
अपनी ही घटना में हूँ घटित
यह राज़ जो मुझ से छुपाया
ऐ खुदा तू तो निर्दय हुआ
पर जब उसका हल भी तूने बताया
तब बनाया मैंने तुझे खुदा
इस उल्झान में ही मैं बाँध गया
अपने से ही दूर हुआ
मेरा हमसफ़र ही तो है तू
जब अक्ल आई – तो क्या मैं, और क्या तू?
Chalo then – I sign off for now…
प्रारंभ (The Beginning) | 12th Apr. '09
ॐ विश्वं दर्पणदृश्यमाननगरीतुल्यं निजान्तर्गतं
पश्यन्नात्मनि मायया बहिरिवोदभूतं यथा निद्रया।
यः साक्षात्कुरुते प्रबोधसमये स्वात्मानमेवाद्वयं
तस्मै श्री गुरुमूर्तये नम इदं श्री दक्षिणामूर्तये॥
With the obeisance to Lord Dakshinamurthy who resides within, I begin this blog. Actually, I was never going to write this blog. I do write my journal - almost daily. For me, my journal is a record of the internal events of my life; and where there are external ones, on how they impacted me.
I started writing a journal in 2002. After I finished my first BLHP, I got initiated into writing a journal. So there go all my reflections, internal processes, my dreams, my fantasies, my convictions, in short all that happens to me either because of myself or because of the environment.
Of late, life has taken another turn. I started writing a muse. The other day, I wrote in my journal that I should write a book. A book of my experiences. A name also came, "Experiences with Myself." I did not actually dismiss the idea, but I know that this is not the time. So how do I prepare? I simply decided to share more of what I write.
As I shared a few of my muse with my soul group, Sukhi urged me on to put my writings up on the blog. So here am I, slowly publishing my writings on the blog. I will in due course of time, dig out some more matter and put up online. Of course, some things don't go online - for that you'll have to know me really well!
When we begin any enterprise, we always end up thanking those for being there - who have in their own way made it possible for us to be where we are. And so I would like to remember at this moment: My Guruji, Lord Dakshinamurthy, my parents, my ISABS journey mates (and I'll call all my facilitators as my mates), the souls with me in the "Who Am I", my HR guru Kantha, my soul connections, Sukhi - the soul who urged me to put these online and connect with the universe.
As I write this, I become more clear - I write for myself, for my own learning, for my own clarity. In that quest, if there are others who find a light, or can shine a light for me, our lives would be blessed and enriched.
Much of what I write is about my own frailities and vulnerabilities. I have discovered that in my own vulnerability is my strength - perhaps that will be a muse one day.
This to me now is not a blog - but a personal expression, a platform for the fountain of the inner self, a sticky pad for like souls to congregate and share.
May we all reach our destinies and in the richness of our sharing, fill up each other...
The Daily Muse | Questions for the Day | 2nd Apr. '09
Why do I ask so many questions? Is it inquisitiveness? Or is it simply for my ego to get satisfied that it exists? For after all, unless there is a joy in doing something, why would anyone do it? That I ask questions – too many and too often, means that I get some joy. The other possibility is that I am obsessive compulsive – but would judgment lead to understanding?
Talking about joy – I get joy in doing a thing; I get joy in being with someone. I can either stop at that OR I can ask, “what is it that makes me joyful either with the thing / person / situation?” I see that I end up doing this all too often. “Oh, I like this person; then there is a pause; and then, “but why and what is different here?” Similarly I avoid a few things, a few people. Obviously, I have a block there and unless I become aware of the block, is there freedom for me?” Likewise, if I am not aware of the deeper import behind my likes, would I be free?
So what is this obsession with freedom? Granted that it is fascinating to know a bit more about myself; but does it mean that there be an obsession? Then, am I being “in the moment?” Talking about that, is it necessary to be “in the moment” every time? I ask this for I experience that whenever I find myself not in communion with myself, I get distressed. And then follow all attempts to be in the moment – breathing exercises, watching breath, energy drawing from universe etc. But is that not an obsession unto itself? The obsession to “be in the moment?”
Hey, but hang on, is it not right to pursue your own happiness? Everyone does that. Yes everyone does that, but that cannot be a justification for me to do what everyone does. It is easy to say, “he likes movies, so he goes for it; I like to be in the moment, so I do it.” But then I am doing what someone else is doing – without the application of my own self / my own agency. Then it is his life and not my life. Or is it that one experience of being in the moment creates a desire for it? Just like one taste of Kolkota Roshogulla created a desire for them?
But this scares me, for if I accept it, then, am I not a product of desire? Am I not being driven by it? The desire to “be in the moment”? And by that corollary, I might actually miss being in the moment. I was traveling by train this morning (like I usually do). The train was crowded. Sweat, humidity, heat, crowd all around. And I was irritated, upset. Out went my mind – blame the railways (for poor infrastructure); then it came inside – blame myself (for getting up late); then it decided to be in the moment – “relax Ashish. Observe what are you feeling? Blah. Blah.” And so, here I was, in this packed train, irritated to the core, and attempting self observation. Why – so that I can calm myself. What for? So that I can be in the moment! While actually in that moment, I was there – observing myself too.
Aha – so does that mean, that for me, “being in the moment” has a connotation of pleasure? Is it the pleasure of a previous past experience – like in meditation, in Who Am I, in ISABS lab, in pranayam, in deep introspection, in intense activity etc. And that I try to recreate it? So it is that my “being in the moment” actually is not that, but an attempt at re-creation of a past experience? Which means, it is an attempt to be in “a moment experience sometime which I crave for” So, Mr. Pant, “are you really free?”
Is the desire for being in the moment an escape from the moment? So what does it really mean “to be in the moment?”
Hey – again, you are asking a question. One after the other; and yet another…
Yes, but how does one do enquiry without asking question?
Exactly – but the next question is, “why do you want to do enquiry?”
Simple; so that I can get to the depth of it.
Why?
So that I can really understand?
Why?
So that it will not bother me again later on.
So you don’t want to be bothered?
Yes.
Aha – so that once it does not bother, you can “be with it” – person, event, thing?
Right.
So that means you want to “be in the moment?”
{Silence}
Rrrriiiiigggggtttttt.
Hey – but prior to asking question, was I not being in the moment? What stops me? And in all this who is present? That being who gets joy? Is that me or my ego?
Is this question too a question from me or my ego? I can see myself smiling, as the next question pops up, “When I say “my” it means something apart from me; so then what is my ego?”
Questions, questions and questions JJJ Right now in asking these, I experience being in the moment!!!
Talking about joy – I get joy in doing a thing; I get joy in being with someone. I can either stop at that OR I can ask, “what is it that makes me joyful either with the thing / person / situation?” I see that I end up doing this all too often. “Oh, I like this person; then there is a pause; and then, “but why and what is different here?” Similarly I avoid a few things, a few people. Obviously, I have a block there and unless I become aware of the block, is there freedom for me?” Likewise, if I am not aware of the deeper import behind my likes, would I be free?
So what is this obsession with freedom? Granted that it is fascinating to know a bit more about myself; but does it mean that there be an obsession? Then, am I being “in the moment?” Talking about that, is it necessary to be “in the moment” every time? I ask this for I experience that whenever I find myself not in communion with myself, I get distressed. And then follow all attempts to be in the moment – breathing exercises, watching breath, energy drawing from universe etc. But is that not an obsession unto itself? The obsession to “be in the moment?”
Hey, but hang on, is it not right to pursue your own happiness? Everyone does that. Yes everyone does that, but that cannot be a justification for me to do what everyone does. It is easy to say, “he likes movies, so he goes for it; I like to be in the moment, so I do it.” But then I am doing what someone else is doing – without the application of my own self / my own agency. Then it is his life and not my life. Or is it that one experience of being in the moment creates a desire for it? Just like one taste of Kolkota Roshogulla created a desire for them?
But this scares me, for if I accept it, then, am I not a product of desire? Am I not being driven by it? The desire to “be in the moment”? And by that corollary, I might actually miss being in the moment. I was traveling by train this morning (like I usually do). The train was crowded. Sweat, humidity, heat, crowd all around. And I was irritated, upset. Out went my mind – blame the railways (for poor infrastructure); then it came inside – blame myself (for getting up late); then it decided to be in the moment – “relax Ashish. Observe what are you feeling? Blah. Blah.” And so, here I was, in this packed train, irritated to the core, and attempting self observation. Why – so that I can calm myself. What for? So that I can be in the moment! While actually in that moment, I was there – observing myself too.
Aha – so does that mean, that for me, “being in the moment” has a connotation of pleasure? Is it the pleasure of a previous past experience – like in meditation, in Who Am I, in ISABS lab, in pranayam, in deep introspection, in intense activity etc. And that I try to recreate it? So it is that my “being in the moment” actually is not that, but an attempt at re-creation of a past experience? Which means, it is an attempt to be in “a moment experience sometime which I crave for” So, Mr. Pant, “are you really free?”
Is the desire for being in the moment an escape from the moment? So what does it really mean “to be in the moment?”
Hey – again, you are asking a question. One after the other; and yet another…
Yes, but how does one do enquiry without asking question?
Exactly – but the next question is, “why do you want to do enquiry?”
Simple; so that I can get to the depth of it.
Why?
So that I can really understand?
Why?
So that it will not bother me again later on.
So you don’t want to be bothered?
Yes.
Aha – so that once it does not bother, you can “be with it” – person, event, thing?
Right.
So that means you want to “be in the moment?”
{Silence}
Rrrriiiiigggggtttttt.
Hey – but prior to asking question, was I not being in the moment? What stops me? And in all this who is present? That being who gets joy? Is that me or my ego?
Is this question too a question from me or my ego? I can see myself smiling, as the next question pops up, “When I say “my” it means something apart from me; so then what is my ego?”
Questions, questions and questions JJJ Right now in asking these, I experience being in the moment!!!
The Daily Muse | Aspects of Self | 1st Apr. '09
Why do we live in this world? What for? What is the reason of our existence? To get to our higher selves: ah, clichéd; as also is the other answer, the cosmic karmic law.
Why indeed? There is the insistence of a child for an answer from the mother – a question to which the mother has no response. For the only answer is in the child’s growth – he/she learns some things only as the child grows up, and no rational answer can ever satisfy the query.
Talking about queries and answers, is there ever any answer at all? I had asked this question before. Is it to “know” the answers? Can one really “know” something? Is “knowing” a function of time? What does it mean when we say, “I know XYZ – a person or a thing”? The question arises, “know when?” Having known once, is the “knowing” sufficient?
We say that change is constant and that the only constant is change. In Euclidean geometry, we would call this statement an axiom. If that be so, then what I know one moment is not the same the next moment – possibly not. Heisenberg’s uncertainty principle demonstrates this for quantum particles. And what is thought after all – is it not a quanta?
So having known, do I know for ever? Perhaps not. Then is it that we have to “know” over and over again? To discover over and over again – is that what life is about? But what does the word “know” mean? I am struggling for an answer. Actually, having asked all these questions, I don’t feel like knowing the answer.
Does it matter that I know something? For if it changes the next moment, of what use is my knowing it in this moment? How many things and how much can I then really know? I would rather prefer to just be.
Ah, so you talk about “being”? “Being” what? Is it important to put the “what” after “Being”? Is not being, simply that – being? However, would just “being” not lead to inactivity (tamas)?
But of what use is being, if there is no “doing”? So the next question is, “why is action so important?” Is it required to fill myself up – so as to avoid myself? For what purpose?
“Knowing” – “Doing” – “Being” – the three positions of self…
Coming back to the original question, perhaps a better question would be, “where does this question come from?”
Why indeed? There is the insistence of a child for an answer from the mother – a question to which the mother has no response. For the only answer is in the child’s growth – he/she learns some things only as the child grows up, and no rational answer can ever satisfy the query.
Talking about queries and answers, is there ever any answer at all? I had asked this question before. Is it to “know” the answers? Can one really “know” something? Is “knowing” a function of time? What does it mean when we say, “I know XYZ – a person or a thing”? The question arises, “know when?” Having known once, is the “knowing” sufficient?
We say that change is constant and that the only constant is change. In Euclidean geometry, we would call this statement an axiom. If that be so, then what I know one moment is not the same the next moment – possibly not. Heisenberg’s uncertainty principle demonstrates this for quantum particles. And what is thought after all – is it not a quanta?
So having known, do I know for ever? Perhaps not. Then is it that we have to “know” over and over again? To discover over and over again – is that what life is about? But what does the word “know” mean? I am struggling for an answer. Actually, having asked all these questions, I don’t feel like knowing the answer.
Does it matter that I know something? For if it changes the next moment, of what use is my knowing it in this moment? How many things and how much can I then really know? I would rather prefer to just be.
Ah, so you talk about “being”? “Being” what? Is it important to put the “what” after “Being”? Is not being, simply that – being? However, would just “being” not lead to inactivity (tamas)?
But of what use is being, if there is no “doing”? So the next question is, “why is action so important?” Is it required to fill myself up – so as to avoid myself? For what purpose?
“Knowing” – “Doing” – “Being” – the three positions of self…
Coming back to the original question, perhaps a better question would be, “where does this question come from?”
The Daily Muse | Conversation on a Mirror | 30th Mar. '09
I look different. And that puzzles me. Actually, why the heck does that bother me? I reached office and was in front of the mirror – and lo, yes, I do look different.
What bothers me is that I had a neutral face in the mirror. Earlier on, I would either be smiling or some emotion would get reflected in the mirror. This time, there is no emotion. And yet, it is not even emotionless state too.
So what does it mean to face up to oneself? Who do you actually look into in the mirror? When I see myself in the mirror, who do I see? Is it me? Who is that person in the mirror that I see? And flip that question back, who is it then who stands in front of the mirror; and also sees the person in the mirror?
Physics tells me that light is both matter and wave. And the image in the mirror is a function of total internal reflection of light waves. While that explains the “image” that I see in the mirror, it does not answer my question, “who” do I see in the mirror? Now how do I know I see it? Because I experience it; and apart from the fact of seeing (a direct perception proof), I have associated feelings within.
But taking that line of logic further, we even see a mirage in a desert. We see water where none exists. The property of light waves getting totally internally reflected explains the image, but do not show the truth. So, it follows that not all that the light waves may show me the real truth. The question then is, “is what I see in the mirror, real or unreal?”
Coming back to the question of “who do I see in the mirror”, we can then explore the two answers that come to me right now: One, that there is someone out there who I see; Two, there is an image that I see. If we accept the former, then it follows that there is consciousness. Going by what we explore in the earlier paragraph, we can only be tentative about the first answer viz. there is someone out there who I see. Secondly, we have no awareness of any consciousness of the other in front of us (unlike when we meet a friend). So I leave this line of logic (rejecting it) and go to the next possible answer, “I see an image.”
Now, if I see an image, then either the person in front of the mirror is an image too (if we accept that what the mirror shows is true) or that or that it is only an apparent reality. Given that a mirage too is a function of the same phenomenon that mirror is, we can not be sure of the 100% truth of what the mirror shows. Thus, on this side of the mirror is not an image and that I who stand in front of the mirror is different from the image.
But, if that is so, then what I see in front of the mirror is only apparent. If that be so, why does it evoke feelings in me? Why does it evoke thoughts in me? This then means that the thoughts and feelings are a function of something within me and not what is there outside. Taking this at a generic level, what I see outside is actually what I am inside. This to me seems like a scientific proof (QED types). However, this poses a problem for me if I have to live my life.
Does that mean there is no conflict in the world outside; that there is no dispute, no crime, nothing that I find abhorrent? For I only see what is inside of me? If I accept the proof above, then the answer is a no. Which goes contradictory to my experience; but then how does one define, “my experience?” We will delve into that question later – at some other time. If I do not accept the proof above, in order to accept the reality of the not to pleasant aspects of life, then I negate my own existence (that is where our enquiry started off from).
So now you see, I am stuck. A colleague of mine was curious and she read this. She has this question, “Why did you think this? How did this thought come?” Actually, it helps. You see, the fact that I thought this, means that there is a being who think and feels. And that means there is consciousness (this is an assumption I make that needs to be tested). But that does not still answer the basic question and the paradox. Either ways, I am stuck for a definitive answer.
Indian philosophical schools (especially Advaita Vendanta) would solve this problem by the use of the word “maya” (neither real nor unreal), but that is a “satisfactory answer”. As per Advaita Vedanta thought, “maya” does not mean “illusion” as most people understand it. It means that a subject of enquiry is “neither real nor unreal at all moments of time”. Basically, something on which nothing “definitive” can be said. It is not the “definitive answer” which is what I seek. Or is the quest itself flawed from the beginning – for there is a search for a definitive answer of the world that exists and yet does not exist. For if the world is a mirror, then the quest could either be directed towards understanding the world; alternately, it could be directed to understanding the self.
With that I sign off for now. The task ahead is to study a few texts and check out. And with another question, “then, is there something definitive that we can talk about our self?”
What bothers me is that I had a neutral face in the mirror. Earlier on, I would either be smiling or some emotion would get reflected in the mirror. This time, there is no emotion. And yet, it is not even emotionless state too.
So what does it mean to face up to oneself? Who do you actually look into in the mirror? When I see myself in the mirror, who do I see? Is it me? Who is that person in the mirror that I see? And flip that question back, who is it then who stands in front of the mirror; and also sees the person in the mirror?
Physics tells me that light is both matter and wave. And the image in the mirror is a function of total internal reflection of light waves. While that explains the “image” that I see in the mirror, it does not answer my question, “who” do I see in the mirror? Now how do I know I see it? Because I experience it; and apart from the fact of seeing (a direct perception proof), I have associated feelings within.
But taking that line of logic further, we even see a mirage in a desert. We see water where none exists. The property of light waves getting totally internally reflected explains the image, but do not show the truth. So, it follows that not all that the light waves may show me the real truth. The question then is, “is what I see in the mirror, real or unreal?”
Coming back to the question of “who do I see in the mirror”, we can then explore the two answers that come to me right now: One, that there is someone out there who I see; Two, there is an image that I see. If we accept the former, then it follows that there is consciousness. Going by what we explore in the earlier paragraph, we can only be tentative about the first answer viz. there is someone out there who I see. Secondly, we have no awareness of any consciousness of the other in front of us (unlike when we meet a friend). So I leave this line of logic (rejecting it) and go to the next possible answer, “I see an image.”
Now, if I see an image, then either the person in front of the mirror is an image too (if we accept that what the mirror shows is true) or that or that it is only an apparent reality. Given that a mirage too is a function of the same phenomenon that mirror is, we can not be sure of the 100% truth of what the mirror shows. Thus, on this side of the mirror is not an image and that I who stand in front of the mirror is different from the image.
But, if that is so, then what I see in front of the mirror is only apparent. If that be so, why does it evoke feelings in me? Why does it evoke thoughts in me? This then means that the thoughts and feelings are a function of something within me and not what is there outside. Taking this at a generic level, what I see outside is actually what I am inside. This to me seems like a scientific proof (QED types). However, this poses a problem for me if I have to live my life.
Does that mean there is no conflict in the world outside; that there is no dispute, no crime, nothing that I find abhorrent? For I only see what is inside of me? If I accept the proof above, then the answer is a no. Which goes contradictory to my experience; but then how does one define, “my experience?” We will delve into that question later – at some other time. If I do not accept the proof above, in order to accept the reality of the not to pleasant aspects of life, then I negate my own existence (that is where our enquiry started off from).
So now you see, I am stuck. A colleague of mine was curious and she read this. She has this question, “Why did you think this? How did this thought come?” Actually, it helps. You see, the fact that I thought this, means that there is a being who think and feels. And that means there is consciousness (this is an assumption I make that needs to be tested). But that does not still answer the basic question and the paradox. Either ways, I am stuck for a definitive answer.
Indian philosophical schools (especially Advaita Vendanta) would solve this problem by the use of the word “maya” (neither real nor unreal), but that is a “satisfactory answer”. As per Advaita Vedanta thought, “maya” does not mean “illusion” as most people understand it. It means that a subject of enquiry is “neither real nor unreal at all moments of time”. Basically, something on which nothing “definitive” can be said. It is not the “definitive answer” which is what I seek. Or is the quest itself flawed from the beginning – for there is a search for a definitive answer of the world that exists and yet does not exist. For if the world is a mirror, then the quest could either be directed towards understanding the world; alternately, it could be directed to understanding the self.
With that I sign off for now. The task ahead is to study a few texts and check out. And with another question, “then, is there something definitive that we can talk about our self?”
The Daily Muse | Questions and Issues | 29th Mar. '09
Dusk time is always a good time – to be with yourself. In the stillness between the day and night, is an inviting and haunting energy; a radiance that speaks of the reality of life – neither day nor night. As in Hindi, “na to Prakash aur na hi Tamas.” (न तो प्रकाश और न ही तामस). It occurred to me that I could do with some writing. A few thoughts I pen down – from my journal (this morning), with whatever changes of this moment.
{After writing half of the stuff below, I got back up again – since I am mailing this to many, the “structure” freak in me wants to put a few words: These are my thoughts as they come in the moment. And most of them will be questions. I like to meditate on them and at the right moment, I will understand it. I have slowly moved to a view in life that asking the right question is most important. And at this phase of life, I am see myself preparing to ask the right questions. I do not look forward to any appreciation (and equally disgust) – but I do look forward to your sharing which can help me enrich not just my own understanding of an issue, but also myself and the you with me. These then are what I can say, “Experiences of myself”.}
I have a lovely mind. A beautiful instrument – that I am slowly learning to respect and understand. As if through a key hole, I have got a preview. The word that came up this morning during prayers was “addiction.” So what is addiction? Remembered what I’d read what JK had to say somewhere on a related issue. So what is my addiction? And in that what is my “avoidance?” The solitude and quiet, the “pranayam” and prayers, the peace of silence and stillness – all are the desires. And anything that disturbs it is to be shunned – be they people, events, objects and life. Life – but what is life? Is it not about people and events and the meanings they make out of it, the causality they ascribe, the web of relationships they make and relate? Is it not so?
But talking of addiction… So is addiction to desire for “peaceful mind” better than say an addiction to desire for alcohol”? Addiction remains. Save that in one case it is “socially desirable” (as also “personally desired” and in the “laukik” (behavioural world – la vie quotidian) does not cause stress, tension and disharmony while in the latter it perhaps does (if left unchallenged and unbridled). But if I study Yudhishthira’s life, then even unbridled “dharma” (धर्मं) lead to “anarth” (moral destruction) अनर्थ. Coming back – if both are addicted, is there any true “liberation”? Big words – liberation…
So is that why Maharaji (my Guruji) and all say Vedantins that first we have to conquer inner evil by goodness (let the latter replace the former) and then later on let go of goodness also? Ah, the desire for merit and the feeling of, “I – a big I am worthy of merit!” How we fool ourselves in the name of outer world, whereas it serves my own inner function and need. Does that mean that I let go of goodness and all prayers and meditations? Well, depends on the stage of life I am in. And each individual (each one of us) knows where we are. Till the fruit is ripe, it needs all nurture and care and once ready, the gardener lets go – the fruit drops on its own. So is the case with our own selves I suppose. Till such time, I feel the need, I have to tend to it – with goodness, working on my inferior and taking inspiration from my own superior. And the day, I am ready, I will get the inner calling – to drop that.
Perhaps this is why “dharma” is the most difficult subject in Indian Philosophy and all treatises go into it. For it is neither collective (in a legal – jurisprudence manner) nor is it personal (in a strict Judeo-Christian tradition); yet is both at the same time. I guess a discussion on that is for another day and moment.
It is an odd feeling to feel as if there is someone (who is you only) watching over your head as you write – I feel it right now. As if I’m being watched by myself? Is that what is called the “saakshi” साक्षी (witness) self?
I am also learning that perhaps there are no “answers” at all. PERHAPS being the operative word. I am not sure yet. For the more I ask, the more questions come – one after the other in their own fashion. And if I look at it, in most cases, I don’t get / have an answer. Meditation / Contemplation on the question stills it. And there is no further need for asking that question. Some quiet comes – I don’t know what as yet. A potential area for research! For if these are experiences of many, then the whole education should be about developing the faculty to think, ask and ponder. Are there ever really any answers – and I ask this in the context of the fundamental “issues” in life? Then I appreciate better what Swami Vivekananda said about the purpose of education viz. ‘to help manifest the knowledge already inherent in man’. Is it that while all thoughts are there, they strike you and become pertinent to you (and therefore you appreciate it) only when you are ready, as in, “when the disciple is ready, the Buddha appears?” Coming back to questions and answers, is it that we are afraid of asking the real questions? For it might expose to us the vulnerability of “no answer.” And left floundering – coz there will be no closure (aha – the desire for an INTJ like me).
Just like I am right now with a thought, “If I ‘get’ liberated (an oxymoron), then what will life be; what will I have to do and not do?” Nothing and yet everything…
So its of a question of what changes? Does the world – the people and events – change? Or only I change? If we accept that the world changes, then the whole concept of inner divinity falls flat on its face and goes contrary to the experience of the self truth of “I”. However, a greater problem arises if I say that “I” change – for if I can change now, I can change later too. And if I change, then the truth of the unchangeable “I” is contradictory. Or is it that we do our roles and pay out our karmas with that understanding (of our roles and self identity – as defined in a Ericksonian way)?
I am aware that some Indian philosophical schools have reconciled this issue by giving talking of the “witness I” and the “ego I”. But I will have to find out more about this – another area open for enquiry for me. Epistemology has its own challenges; and I suspect the biggest challenge is to find logic and rationale for the experience. The biggest and the most undeniable truth is of experience. But all metaphysical experiences may not give a logical rationale answer (which the system of epistemology) demands – for its own sake and for its propagation.
The next topic is “Mine vs. Not Mine”. Actually, I am a shifty writer – moving from an issue to another and then linking them (and many a time not). I write for me and not for you, so coming back to this topic, the question is, “what is ‘mine’?” Where does this question come from? Well, from the recent robbery attempt and the break-in at my house. Eventually, the guys got nothing of what they wanted and left {I’ve written elsewhere on the word ‘valuable’ – in my previous musing – will forward if you express interest}. While they have gone, I am left with a realization of my attachments and my questions. I am glad to be able to see my attachments – and more importantly, not condemn them. For in condemnation and the “shoulds” of life I invalidate the truth of the moment and of the experience – in that I superficially gloss over it, digging the attachment even deeper (as if pushing it into the recess of the unconscious and making it stronger).
None of the stuff I have in my house was mine at some point of time in the past – nor will it be with me for ever in the future. Each item has its own life. Now all this bit – I’m aware of at a logical level? At another level, the question is, ‘then what is mine?’ Asked differently, “am I actually the owner?” Or is it that I am a custodian (like Gandhi used to say)? If so, then the question is, “of and for whom?” Where does this attachment come from? And the feeling of possessiveness that comes with the attachment? Yes, at one level it all is mine – at another, nothing is. I could not prevent the break-in, but nothing was taken away. So who saved it? Questions that deserve an answer; or should I say, “issues” that deserve a “question”? :-) :-) :-)
{After writing half of the stuff below, I got back up again – since I am mailing this to many, the “structure” freak in me wants to put a few words: These are my thoughts as they come in the moment. And most of them will be questions. I like to meditate on them and at the right moment, I will understand it. I have slowly moved to a view in life that asking the right question is most important. And at this phase of life, I am see myself preparing to ask the right questions. I do not look forward to any appreciation (and equally disgust) – but I do look forward to your sharing which can help me enrich not just my own understanding of an issue, but also myself and the you with me. These then are what I can say, “Experiences of myself”.}
I have a lovely mind. A beautiful instrument – that I am slowly learning to respect and understand. As if through a key hole, I have got a preview. The word that came up this morning during prayers was “addiction.” So what is addiction? Remembered what I’d read what JK had to say somewhere on a related issue. So what is my addiction? And in that what is my “avoidance?” The solitude and quiet, the “pranayam” and prayers, the peace of silence and stillness – all are the desires. And anything that disturbs it is to be shunned – be they people, events, objects and life. Life – but what is life? Is it not about people and events and the meanings they make out of it, the causality they ascribe, the web of relationships they make and relate? Is it not so?
But talking of addiction… So is addiction to desire for “peaceful mind” better than say an addiction to desire for alcohol”? Addiction remains. Save that in one case it is “socially desirable” (as also “personally desired” and in the “laukik” (behavioural world – la vie quotidian) does not cause stress, tension and disharmony while in the latter it perhaps does (if left unchallenged and unbridled). But if I study Yudhishthira’s life, then even unbridled “dharma” (धर्मं) lead to “anarth” (moral destruction) अनर्थ. Coming back – if both are addicted, is there any true “liberation”? Big words – liberation…
So is that why Maharaji (my Guruji) and all say Vedantins that first we have to conquer inner evil by goodness (let the latter replace the former) and then later on let go of goodness also? Ah, the desire for merit and the feeling of, “I – a big I am worthy of merit!” How we fool ourselves in the name of outer world, whereas it serves my own inner function and need. Does that mean that I let go of goodness and all prayers and meditations? Well, depends on the stage of life I am in. And each individual (each one of us) knows where we are. Till the fruit is ripe, it needs all nurture and care and once ready, the gardener lets go – the fruit drops on its own. So is the case with our own selves I suppose. Till such time, I feel the need, I have to tend to it – with goodness, working on my inferior and taking inspiration from my own superior. And the day, I am ready, I will get the inner calling – to drop that.
Perhaps this is why “dharma” is the most difficult subject in Indian Philosophy and all treatises go into it. For it is neither collective (in a legal – jurisprudence manner) nor is it personal (in a strict Judeo-Christian tradition); yet is both at the same time. I guess a discussion on that is for another day and moment.
It is an odd feeling to feel as if there is someone (who is you only) watching over your head as you write – I feel it right now. As if I’m being watched by myself? Is that what is called the “saakshi” साक्षी (witness) self?
I am also learning that perhaps there are no “answers” at all. PERHAPS being the operative word. I am not sure yet. For the more I ask, the more questions come – one after the other in their own fashion. And if I look at it, in most cases, I don’t get / have an answer. Meditation / Contemplation on the question stills it. And there is no further need for asking that question. Some quiet comes – I don’t know what as yet. A potential area for research! For if these are experiences of many, then the whole education should be about developing the faculty to think, ask and ponder. Are there ever really any answers – and I ask this in the context of the fundamental “issues” in life? Then I appreciate better what Swami Vivekananda said about the purpose of education viz. ‘to help manifest the knowledge already inherent in man’. Is it that while all thoughts are there, they strike you and become pertinent to you (and therefore you appreciate it) only when you are ready, as in, “when the disciple is ready, the Buddha appears?” Coming back to questions and answers, is it that we are afraid of asking the real questions? For it might expose to us the vulnerability of “no answer.” And left floundering – coz there will be no closure (aha – the desire for an INTJ like me).
Just like I am right now with a thought, “If I ‘get’ liberated (an oxymoron), then what will life be; what will I have to do and not do?” Nothing and yet everything…
So its of a question of what changes? Does the world – the people and events – change? Or only I change? If we accept that the world changes, then the whole concept of inner divinity falls flat on its face and goes contrary to the experience of the self truth of “I”. However, a greater problem arises if I say that “I” change – for if I can change now, I can change later too. And if I change, then the truth of the unchangeable “I” is contradictory. Or is it that we do our roles and pay out our karmas with that understanding (of our roles and self identity – as defined in a Ericksonian way)?
I am aware that some Indian philosophical schools have reconciled this issue by giving talking of the “witness I” and the “ego I”. But I will have to find out more about this – another area open for enquiry for me. Epistemology has its own challenges; and I suspect the biggest challenge is to find logic and rationale for the experience. The biggest and the most undeniable truth is of experience. But all metaphysical experiences may not give a logical rationale answer (which the system of epistemology) demands – for its own sake and for its propagation.
The next topic is “Mine vs. Not Mine”. Actually, I am a shifty writer – moving from an issue to another and then linking them (and many a time not). I write for me and not for you, so coming back to this topic, the question is, “what is ‘mine’?” Where does this question come from? Well, from the recent robbery attempt and the break-in at my house. Eventually, the guys got nothing of what they wanted and left {I’ve written elsewhere on the word ‘valuable’ – in my previous musing – will forward if you express interest}. While they have gone, I am left with a realization of my attachments and my questions. I am glad to be able to see my attachments – and more importantly, not condemn them. For in condemnation and the “shoulds” of life I invalidate the truth of the moment and of the experience – in that I superficially gloss over it, digging the attachment even deeper (as if pushing it into the recess of the unconscious and making it stronger).
None of the stuff I have in my house was mine at some point of time in the past – nor will it be with me for ever in the future. Each item has its own life. Now all this bit – I’m aware of at a logical level? At another level, the question is, ‘then what is mine?’ Asked differently, “am I actually the owner?” Or is it that I am a custodian (like Gandhi used to say)? If so, then the question is, “of and for whom?” Where does this attachment come from? And the feeling of possessiveness that comes with the attachment? Yes, at one level it all is mine – at another, nothing is. I could not prevent the break-in, but nothing was taken away. So who saved it? Questions that deserve an answer; or should I say, “issues” that deserve a “question”? :-) :-) :-)
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