If it works, stick with it...

We often take things for granted, if its mine its bound to be ordinary, it was only special till it was beyond my reach. And when we loose those same ordinary things that we depended on so much, we miss them terribly. As you'll read towards the end of the post the thought that started this series of thinking was also very ordinary run of the mill but because it provoked so much more within the grey cells may be it was more than that...

As we first step out of the house, for pre-school/ kindergarten, our parents and then teachers and then the society teaches us to work in the group, adjust with others, don't boast your own self, be considerate. I was one of those kids that took a long time to adjust to the fact that once I left my parents home, I was not a princess anymore. I was bossy and imposing and although I have tempered a bit, I haven't changed much. So, I assume, all kids must go through this phase where they realize that they are not special anymore, the best student of the class, he/she is the best and we should all try to be like him/her because of course, he/she gets good grades, awards, praises, everything.
Then we take our focus away from that best person because it too tough to be the best and remain there, so we form peer groups among other similarly emotionally inclined creature who also happen to be in the same dilemma of the impending adolescent. The effect, the pressure, the image we identify with continues to grow with the confusion and the peers that often surround us. Pretty soon, the fog lifts and we find ourselves amidst responsibilities and having to fetch our own path, our own ideal; something that we forgot to create because there was nothing special in us, it was always that other smarter kid that we followed and looked up to.
So we continue looking for that smarter kid to follow; and in the modern times more often than not its a media personality or icon. Hair like that, body like this, home like that, car like this...

We keep looking for that perfect image that we can follow, and in our exhaustion and confusion the life continues, like a blur, a self inflicted fog which we are afraid to lift because we might discover ourself. And we are not the prince/princess anymore, we are that other person who is left out and is not perfect. A compliment from someone else seem like a sly joke, well because I am a nobody, till of course the advertisement on the back of the magazine tells me that 'I am worth it'.

Wouldn't it be so wonderful if we weren't told to curb our personality and were given the opportunity to explore and discover ourself. My parents love me because of who I am and not because I am a size 2 and look good in a bikini. My parents don't love the engineer in me, the cook, the perfect house-keeper, they just love me and have loved me long before I became any of that, who I identify myself as.
So, there is a connection somewhere that is severed. Growing up the mind got the signals to be and to follow that perfection that is never achieved. And now its media, magazines, newspapers all telling me how should I look, what should be the length of my skirt and the thickness of the heels of my shoes and the color of the walls of my bedroom.
Where is my consent, my priority, what do I like, what makes me happy? Do I even know the line where my happiness is because I am complying and others approve of it ends and my personal freedom starts. Do we ever sit long enough to truly understand our own happiness?

I have been thinking a lot about how media influences me and I am trying to stay away from popular culture, sensational news that I have no control over, just for the sanity of my mind. But I find the same things everywhere, fashion magazine, catalogs, home decor, they all are trying to mold me into something that they perceive as perfection. And who are they, followers of a few who failed to conform to the rules of the society to begin with. Who perhaps are a little less convoluted in there minds about their own identity. There must be some who feel good in there own skin and can embrace their own uniqueness.

The quote from Marianne Williamson in the movie 'Akeela and the Bee
Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. We ask ourselves, Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous? Actually, who are you not to be? We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. 


Hence, my topic for the post, we all discover little things in our life that work for us but because we have it, we tend to discount it and negate it and often loose it; only to realize how well it worked for us, with us. I rediscovered yoga after about 6-7 months. I had misplaced the yoga DVD during the move and never missed it, that is, till all my experiments to stay fit were lost on me and I did need to go back to something tried and tested. It took an hour to look for my DVDs and now I am back on my track, I realized how effective it is and how much I took it for granted. But now I know, if it works stick with it. Not everything else works as well... told you it was silly thing that generated the whole series of thoughts.

Still Alice by Lisa Genova

If you are fascinated by the workings of the mind, no not the big picture and enlightenment kind of things but how mind functions and how much we take it for granted then this a book for you.

The book ‘Still Alice’ written by Lisa Genova is about a Harvard professor with an early onset of Alzheimer’s and her struggle with it. I could completely relate to the main character, like her I also think that its work that I do that defines me. So, it was kind of very personal for me and often like with everybody else I do forget things like ‘they never existed’ not like ‘I vaguely remember it but details are gone’. It was scary, how her symptoms started showing and not just how other people reacted to it but when the lost moment is passed how she thought about it and analyzed it. It was an amazing insight about how dementia can affect a person and despite her effort to make sure she doesn’t become a burden on anyone; she forgot her own rescue plan.

As I said I found it very close to my heart and the emotion that the character conveyed seemed very true, I guess as close you can get without actually getting the disease. Her struggle with not remembering her youngest daughter and how she grew to understand the body language when the word processing in her mind failed her; Alice was so courageous and she never gave up. And the perspective of a professor’s struggle with the loss of her own identity and everything she stands for was priceless. And the best part, despite being a story about an Alzheimer’s patient, the book is not sad, though it will tug at your heart strings a few times.

Worth Reading :)

On a personal note, I attended this design workshop that had a module about designing for people with disability and one of the presenters was a guy on a wheel chair. We took a little stroll with him to see the perils that a person on wheel chair faces because of our so called standards, designed to keep safety in mind. It was drizzling that late afternoon and that made it all the tougher for this particular individual on the manual wheel chair.

All throughout the brilliant presentation I kept thinking besides the design topic about the remarkable personality and the fact that there is so much more to him than the ‘disabled’ label that we often assign. Now since I got to see a bit of his mind and thoughts, I think he is very handsome and a very passionate person. I like people who have a passion for something…

Just a little reminder about not judging and labeling people based on that first glance, there is so much depth that lies below the calm surface.

In the times of the butterflies

By Julia Alvarez

This was our book club read for the month of February. I’d call this an okay book. It held my curiosity till the end so in that respect it was engaging but it didn’t satisfy my hunger even after the end so that wasn’t acceptable.

It would have been okay if it was a fictional piece and then the incomplete details would be luxuriously filled in through lingering imaginations but the fact that this a story based on true accounts of the Mirabel sisters made that possibility bleak. It’s a story set in the Dominican Republic in the 40s and the 50s with the revolution that was about to overthrow the dictator. The three Mirabel sisters were the heroines of this story and their death anniversary is still celebrated in that part of the world.

I guess it was authors attempt to show the human life behind these celebrated heroines but in the process of humanizing them she stripped them of the passion that led them to be what they were. In the novel it seemed they were at the right place at the right time or vice versa; and they didn’t actively play a role in shaping the future. Except for maybe Minerva who had idealistic political views, the other sisters were just caught in the humdrum or so it seems. I wanted to know what ticked these women besides the fact the dictator was a womanizer or that he killed all male members of a family who were planning a coup. Any practical ‘animal’ would go for these things, sex and power are not taboo words in a dictators dictionary but what was it that ticked common people to raise arms against him, what was the role of the communist parties in the region, why did the revolution fail, what were the exact plan of the revolutionaries after the dictator was gone. If these women chose to join the revolution then there must be others who were suffering from the dictators tyranny and did nothing against it, where was the contrast that their lives provided. All these topics were untouched.

And I hung on till the end because I wanted to know what aspect of the sisters’ passion/life threatened the dictator so much that he had them killed even when supposedly they were under house arrest and wasn’t part of the revolution anymore.

Through this book, I learned something about Dominican Republic and am curious to find out more and it did talk in great detail about the girls that became the celebrated Mirabel sisters but it left out the most important detail that caused the change within them…

I want that perspective

Have you ever met somebody so perfect that even their sheer presence intimidates you?

It took a little practice for me to realize that I was intimidated, most of the time I got a very negative feeling about this person as I judged myself against this person’s perfection and something inside me made me felt inadequate and in turn led to the aversion.
It took some effort to face my fears and to try to not run away from this feeling of insecurity and rather analyze it and this introspect has rather led me to a fascination, if I may say so, towards these people that used to threaten me with their absolute perfection.

In general I am only aware of one aspect of their personality, like the doctor who speaks so passionately, or the mom of three kids with perfect figure, or a pharmacist with awesome dancing skills, an engineer who runs 8-10 miles to work every day.
Do you see a pattern, it took me several years to figure out that I am looking at only one facet of their life and measuring it against my own little yard stick. Whereas I know all facets of my life and when it comes to judging me I am not very generous.

Let’s start with this perfect dancer, she is not my teacher but subs sometimes and so a student so perfect to work as sub intimidated me. I use to skip her classes because I knew she’ll see right through me and discount me for I am not a perfect dancer. I got to know her during a performance as she encouraged me to face my stage fright and decided to not skip her classes for she might be able to help me. One day after class I asked her, you are so perfect can you teach me to be so?
To my surprise, she confessed that she wasn’t born a dancer and it doesn’t come naturally to her, she practices every single day to be what she is. It wasn’t the first time but still very rare when someone admits to working hard rather than just discounting their own brilliance.
LESSON ONE: Practice… Practice…. Practice… to be who you want to be

Armed with my last week’s success I approached this mom of three who looks gorgeous and I don’t even know her name. I asked her how she manages to look so good, in whatever she does or wears. She literally gasped; she didn’t see my compliment coming, not at least the way it came. She admitted to working out 4 times a week at the gym but confessed that she doesn’t feel good about her body. She said she is dreading wearing a swimsuit on the spring break trip and this time I didn’t see it coming, flat on my face; really, I asked? She said her cheeks aren’t what she wants them to be and in my state of shock and admiration I blurted out, I’d never complain if I have a body like you. And to reaffirm my comment as her eyes searched for something on my face, I said, ‘I promise’. She gave me a broken smile and said in a pained voice, ‘why make a promise that you know you can’t keep’. I realized, a few moments ago she was searching for her own reflection in my face and it hit me, we are all so similar under that tissue paper of a covering that we use to define ourselves.
LESSON TWO: Accept your own goodness… just be you… don't critisize yourself


It’s a long series of thoughts and when I my thoughts ran faster than I could type, I decided to look back to take a second look at the initial thought that germinated this post.

She is a friend who thinks I and my life is perfect (of course she doesn’t read this blog, otherwise she’d know better). She cannot stop wishing for the house that I live in, the neighborhood, the school that my kids go to, the hours that I work, my social life, the work I do at school, the way I arrange things in my house, my fitness, my weight (gasp)… everything. She even bought the exact same watch I have, it was too annoying and getting on my nerves and so I had to revisit my annoyance and figure out what’s bothering me. Why is her admiration causing me heartburn? Well, cause I am not perfect, I have confessed so many times I am barely hanging in there with a tiny thread, the nervous moments, the things I long to do and I miss so many thing; I can never do all that I wish to do, it’s never perfect.

I guess it’s a problem with my yard stick and that I know too much. I knew my plans and failed to see what all I have done; instead focused on things I failed to do. Every time an outsider (the one who doesn’t know my plans) appreciated something I cringed because I was afraid that someday they’ll discover all that I didn’t do and I’ll lose their admiration.

And when I thought about the awe that I hold for other people I was reassured that I’ll still admire that perfect physique even if the butt is half an inch too small and that I’ll always strive for that one perfect show as a dancer even if I am not the lead and I’ll always think of that motivating speech when I am going to make my own presentations and no I’ll not judge their achievements against their shortcomings. They are who they are and I am who I am… I am enough and I wish to not lose that perspective.

What is important?

Something that gives you happiness, fills you with gladness, adrenaline rush, pink sweaty cheeks, pounding heart, a smile so big that even a grin cannot contain. If one knew the sure shot secret formula to achieve it each and every time wouldn’t they want to do it over and over again?

Often when my school friends with young kids just like mine complain about not finding enough time to reply emails or read books, I rebut by saying don’t use your kids as an excuse just admit it’s not a priority for you.
So the same applies to me, if I know the formula and supposedly my ‘Happiness’ should be a priority for me then why don’t I do it. I am talking about training/running for a cause, not a Marathon but just a 5K. I know it gives me pleasure, instant as well as long term, but I am failing to stick to it. What is my excuse?

We are in our third month of the New Year and so far I have not achieved an inch of ‘simplification’ in my life. The only thing that is working is meal plans for the week. I make a menu on Saturday for the following week and shop according to my plan and that has made dinners and weekend groceries so much simpler but other than that it’s all up in the air. I used to have a work plan for cyclic chores in my old house but since the square footage increased my plan needed a re-vamp and I haven’t gotten around to it yet.

So coming back to what is important, if there is something that makes me happy I’d do it over and over and if there is something that makes me sad I’d avoid it but it’s not happening that way.

Are my priorities screwed up? Why can I not make time for running, dance practice, painting, haircut, manicure, sleeping, leisure bath…?