My
mother has a quaint habit of fixing things. She also loves flowers.
Living flowers, dead flowers, artificial flowers. I’ve always seen
flowers of some sort and form in my home since I was a child. She likes
to make flower arrangements, and will spend precious time in picking the
best from the market and adorning every nook and corner of the house
with beautiful bouquets. Whenever any of her crystal pots and vases
break, she glues their creases with flowers, so that the piece is
eternally adorned with something pretty and people cannot see that it is
flawed in any form. She says, if you want to live a content and happy
life, then you need to learn to mend things, and not discard them, the
minute they lose their purpose. Things usually can serve more than one
purpose in life, so it’s up to us to find one for these inanimate
objects. Our eyes usually deceive us, because we only mostly see what we
want to see.
The
same, she’d like to believe is true for people. The modern world has
taught us to live in the comfort of a “one-time-high”. Meaning, use
things once and throw away. Quick and fast meals, jumping from one
moment to another, date one person and lose them for another, the FOMO
of it all; our lives have become fast and faster. Our routines get set
by the jobs we have, and whatever it is needed to fill in the gaps
between sleep and 5pm work-end shift. So mechanical, and ‘practical’
that we do not give a second thought to most of the things we do in our
lives. That’s why it’s called a routine. So productive, so efficient.
Our habits are set in a way that we do not like any deviation from them.
Our relationships stay limited to the people we had known growing up as
family, friends and then colleagues from work. With little time to
divert from the routine, we don’t pay heed to the smaller yet important
signs which life sends our way. And usually it’s when the time is over,
we look back and realize the chances we had, but never availed, because
we were blindsided and busy with the mundane.
Given
that we don’t really have much time in a day to indulge in any thing
else, we also become closed off to new connections. Finding love becomes
harder as you grown older and meeting like-minded people becomes a
challenge. The culture of moving from one person to another and showing
that one cares less for things is the ‘woke’ culture. We fight for small
things and don’t see the forest for the trees. Eat, sleep, work,
move-on, repeat.
I
have always done things with passion and intent; being open to new
experiences and being vulnerable to new situations is something I have
lived with. I didn't know that I was like this until I started taking
risks on things and people and being mindful of my actions. This
lockdown situation has given me a lot of time to reflect on the choices I
made, on the mistakes I made, on the way I do things. And once you look
back, you realize that you’ve always had a pattern of doing things.
Again, my mother’s influence on me is so solid, that I will try and mend
things, connections and relationships in every way possible. Most
things which we hold dear in our lives are related to our relationships;
with family and friends and for lucky people, significant others. I
like the rawness of things, the sheer honesty, the brutal truths, the
clear show of affection, the obviousness of intent, and crystal clear
intentions and purposefulness.
To
sit and connect with someone, to talk about how the universe is so big
and why our egos are even bigger. To discuss, how a heart can withhold
so much but our tongues would say so little. To find out what keeps us
up at 4am and what stops us from sharing those thoughts. Ask them what
they talk about with God or universe, when they sit in solitude and
express their gratitude. What is motivation for them? What is love for
them? What is hell for them? How they see the world moving on? What do
they feel is their purpose in life? What makes their heart heavy and
what makes it light. Do they like plants? Gerbera or Cactus or Aloe
vera? I’d like to talk about everything under the sky.
Long
time ago, I figured out that I can’t live a small life. Just the fact
that the chances of me being born was one in a million is astounding.
This fact is true for everyone in this world ever born, by the way. Even
my cats. I mean what if one thing in the history had changed, even one
minuscule thing like our millions of ancestors hadn't crossed paths over
ages, we’d not live to see even a single day. That’s mind-boggling and
yet we remain so timid, so shy, so quiet, and so small. During this
quarantine, I found the importance of how my regular life was being
impacted by seemingly unassuming people and things around me. I have
more gratitude for them, more respect for them and more love (even) for
them.
I
read somewhere that scientifically people are afraid of two things —
loud noises and fear of rejection. Growing up I learnt how to work a gun
and shot fires on a shooting range, like a military person would. Lots
of loud noises, lots of adrenaline rush and lots of exhilaration. The
magnanimity of what a small inanimate object held in one’s hands can do
in this world was profound. So I got over the fear of loud noises. (But I
still hate loudness in any form tbh). The other major lesson I learnt
was, that you miss 100% of chances you don’t take. So without (not
completely though) fearing for rejection, I’d take risks and started
doing things differently than before. And I felt very strongly towards
the Kelly Clarkson’s mantra — “what doesn’t kill you makes you
stronger”. So until the things I do, don’t physically kill me, I’d keep
on taking chances and doing things differently. I am one in nearly 8
billion people in this world, living alongside millions of other species
and beings. What made me think that I was the center of the universe?
Because I am no where near that. So with humility, you keep on going on. Minimize your losses, and have an abundant mindset. What are you going
to lose anyway?
Something marvelous I read:
“Actual
happiness always looks pretty squalid in comparison with the
over-compensations for misery. And, of course, stability isn’t nearly so
spectacular as instability. And being content has none of the glamour
of a good fight against misfortune, none of the picturesqueness of a
struggle with temptation, or fatal overthrow by passion or doubt.
Happiness is never grand.”
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