Hello dearest Reader,
Another month flew past. The northern hemisphere is still under a cold spell. I keep hearing of sub-zero temperatures and snowstorms. This time around I have keener interest on the intensity of the cold because my son is spending his winter semester far away from me, bracing temperatures which he’s not used to. But like every other teenager who has left home and feels that they can conquer the world, nothing seems to dampen his spirits. However, a mother’s worry is perennial. The slightest of things and we start to hyper ventilate. The number of times I checked on his warm clothes and shoes made me laugh at my own idiosyncrasies.
But this letter is not about the weather or about a mother’s heart. It’s about how the cat stopped crouching and stretched. Remember I told you that I simply observed the world like a crouching cat in January. This month I started clawing at the fog around my existence. February had been kind to me professionally. Physically too. I regained my strength and got back to my regular work out schedule. I focused on what I’m eating but most of all, I observed my mind. And as I dived deep, I noticed a few things.
Those that were driving forces in my life have shifted. A career high no more gave me joy. I was perplexed. Throughout out my life I was told I’m ambitious (not always with a positive connotation to it) and that I can push myself to the brink to reach my goals. But then surprisingly the career high was no more a goal that enchanted me. I was rather depressed and it seemed a waste of time on meaningless pursuit. Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy my job and am blessed with great co-workers. The motivators were there, the motivation was missing.
The travelling which enamoured me, the joy of visiting a new place that would always keep me moving - seemed to have subsided. Exotic places and foreign locales did not pull in a way it used to. I found joys in small towns of my country, the mustard fields yellow with flowers, the boat ride on a lonely river where our captain was a visually impaired man, the green ‘gulal’ put lovingly on my cheeks by a young kid or the dare devilry of a bike ride through the lanes of Barsana to the top of mountain. Seeing the temples crowded with people but being able to find the quiet amidst all, was divine. There was a shift. I could sense it, but couldn’t quite fathom.
The woman who always planned the “what next” was actually tired of planning. I had started cherishing the quiet moments, with a cup of coffee and doing nothing. Curling up with a book on an oft used sofa, which knows the curves of my body, was pure bliss. I breathed in lungs full of morning air and listened to the swish of the leaves or a faraway cuckoo cooing sadly calling for lightness of spring. Nothing glamorous, nothing breathtaking, but simplicity of the lull became precious.
As I watched myself patiently, It dawned on me that I had stopped nurturing my feminine side in all its authenticity when I had stepped into my 30s. Not that I didn’t play my role, but it was solely role playing rather than living it. Like, it was more about how a wife should be rather than what kind of a wife I am. The benchmark of being the “kind” of daughter or daughter in law or for that matter mother was what drove me. In my head I was ticking boxes. To me that was sure shot way to ensure affection, to command respect, to get the love and most of all to have that the seal of approval. It was not my reality, and even if it was, I didn’t recognise it as such. Hence I lived it like a task instead of embracing it.
Looking back, I gathered, that you cannot be loved unless you love yourself completely. A complete sense of surrender to the Universe is thousand times better than surrendering to another person. This time around when I visited Vrindavan, I felt the presence, the show of love and acceptance crystal clear. I think when humanity fails, divinity steps in. When you feel unseen, untouched and unloved then I guess you expand yourself to experience the beyond. It was imperative that my body listened to my mind and I had to ensure that my mind is not enduring trash. Healing happens when you heal from within. The subconscious wounds we carry, the burden of expectations we shoulder, the betrayals, or the unrequited love turns ugly when suppressed and rears head as diseases. Diseases are nothing but lack of ease - of body & mind.
So throughout February I clawed my way through the mental fog and physical weakness. I worked on the debris of my cluttered mind. I accepted life as is, without trying to change. But I changed my focus. I loved but not with a desperate longing. I worked but not as if life depended on its success. I worked out cause I enjoyed it. I ate right cause it made me feel good. I meditated cause I could sink in the calm. I dressed up because I felt beautiful. Sometimes you hold so many scars in your body that you fear that no one on earth will ever be able to love your physicality. But then there would always be you for YOURSELF.
My dearest reader, be that person who anchors your own existence. Be the best version of your own body and your own mind. Do things which makes living life worth the while. Not to tick some strange box in your head, but just because life is beautiful and you deserve to blossom into what you’re meant to be.
Always yours,
Pocket full of life
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