We’re neither rocks nor sticks

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A while ago, in my COVID internet scrolling cycle, I came across an analogy – We often take harm and hurt from unkind words that call us names or try to tell us who we are. In those moments, think of rocks and sticks – someone that yells at a rock to hurt its feelings will never make the rock feel bad. It is quite sure that it is a rock and will only ever be a rock.

A tad over-explained and poorly paraphrased by me, I’m sure. But the TL;DR version would be – Know who you are and it won’t let anything anyone else says to the contrary hurt you.

Well, we’re neither rocks nor sticks.

The belief of rocks and sticks in their own being, I am sad to say, is not the same found in us human beings. We are often found crumbling, and a snide comment about us can be enough to send our inner Jenga blocks falling to the ground as some truly nasty people celebrate seeing us lying in the wreck I’m sure.

We aren’t designed to take on every blow and not see the welts they leave. And some painful words linger, long after the mouths that spoke them have forgotten. Those are the ones etched in the inside of our skulls. The ones that, every now and then, keep us up at night before we finally figure out how to leave them in the past where they belong.

When it comes to self-assurance; to being conscious of your efforts to change; building self confidence – there is no autopilot. No system that will let your mind wander as it safely guides you through.

We are left with a singular tool, albeit a powerful one – belief.

Everytime the world lashes out to try and put you in your place, believe in your efforts to be better and grow in meaningful ways. Let your inner growth outshine the outer criticisms that arise from the crowds. And again, there is no autopilot when it comes to belief. You cannot say, “I believe” and never think about it again.

Believing in yourself must happen again and again. A conscious effort that offsets you from all the hurt and pain coming your way. A wall that shields you. A Patronus, if you will. And once you become good at knowing who you are, at recognizing and honoring your self – you will find that you haven’t become a rock or a stick that cannot be hurt. No, you will instead be a conscious being that sees. Truly sees.

Sees the path ahead, leading out, into the light.

In believing in yourself, there is a world out there – yet to be shaped but right there at the horizon. Waiting for you to come claim it as your own. A world comprising of the right people around you, a good mindset to hold you, belief in your self like gas in the tank, and hopefully rocks and sticks in your garden to remind you that you are quite different from them.

They have their own journeys, I am sure!

Meant to be

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When I look back at how I’ve changed, sometimes it’s hard to look beyond what I’ve lost since then. University, believe it or not, was a time of hope for me. It was a time of possibility and despite living in a small city, nothing felt out of grasp. I did everything I wanted to. 

Now don’t go expecting my list of things to stagger you, but I used to leave the house on a whim but have no idea where I was headed, just to clear my head. I would call a friend I hadn’t heard from in a few days. I would walk all the way to a bridge just so I could read by the water for an hour or so. And I took great advantage of discounts on beer at a nearby roadhouse. 

I took a chance on people, made friends, had some fallouts and every day, I took the bus to school with a different mood. I walked the same trail with about six people on different occasions because it was the only one I could walk to from my house never having owned a car. I read so much and I don’t mean school readings. These were more self-assigned, if you catch my drift. I used to work on my mental health through some intermittent counselling when I needed to screw my head on straight.

And I spoke. I was part of a Toastmasters club and I like to think that I spoke my heart out.

But so much has changed now and to highlight all the ways in which I abandoned the person I used would make for painful writing. Like most of you, I’ve picked up a few demons along the path to adulthood. They might be the same ones you have. I dread Mondays. I worry about money. I haven’t finished a book in weeks. And my writing has been scattered, to say the least. And I go on a walk by myself maybe once in a fortnight and there haven’t been many bridges.

It all sounds so bleak, and I’ll be honest, it feels that way too. To leave some parts of you behind and wonder if they were the best parts of you.

“You do what you have to do, so you can do what you want to do” – is perhaps a sound description of adulthood. But a fatal flaw I’ve found is that doing what I have to do leaves me so tired and aching that I no longer spend much time doing what I want to do.

But I thought of an exercise where I would ask that person I stopped being for advice. And channeling myself from a different, possibly pre-covid age, I would reply – “Of the many things we do, there are some that we are truly meant to do. Our selves are sewn into the fabric of existence because some books need reading, some paths need walking and some people need believing in. There is no grand purpose, except the one where you find your way back to doing the things you were always meant to do. And should you stray from these acts, you recognize that you are lost and try to find your way back. Try and try again because being yourself is and will always be your most important act on Earth”

Despite the changes I’ve made in adulthood, that past-self still exists within me. Unburdened by everything I carry now, he had had some life changing advice under his sleeve. He just didn’t know he’d need to give it to himself down the road.

It is no longer as easy to walk to a bridge and read. But I will try. And when I find a bridge I will sit by the water and read. And passers-by will see a bearded young man reading by the water and have no idea that they are looking at a small part of the universe correcting itself to what it was always meant to be.

A win

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If we’re lucky, we have some loved ones. People we rely on or those that care about us. And it’s a good feeling.

On some days, though, I’m dealing with a deep unrest inside of me. And those go-to relationships don’t seem like the beacons of support they usually are. Because I feel incapable of reaching out to them. 

It is a strange feeling that takes me occasionally and it feels that way tonight. This post is my attempt at a solution.

My writing has always been a very personal outlet. I’ve not often been able to write on topics people recommend I explore. No matter how intriguing or cogent, the words do not flow until I have thought about it myself. But, back to it. I write tonight to tackle that feeling of unrest by occupying myself with an activity for which I do not need another person. 

And the relief I feel as I write this reminds me – it is so important to have a space that consists of just you. Whether it’s an activity, a certain ambient environment. A space that consists of just you is familiar. It is uncomplicated. I sincerely hope you have a space like that. And if not, think about what it might be. 

My space consists of Harry Potter audiobooks, a playlist of The Last of Us 2 game soundtrack and walks. Physically, I prefer to be by myself when I am in my space. That is not to say I want to escape interactions. It’s like sleep. It’s a form of rest and it can’t be done while your mind is half here and half there. 

A yet harder step is to recognize the need to access your space. I’ve had many occasions where I have instead resorted to just putting something on TV I’m barely watching while scrolling on my phone. Or making a huge plate of food that I will not feel good after. I find myself jumping from one activity to another not gaining any semblance of content out of them. And that leads to self-doubt. Why can’t I get enjoyment out of these? What’s wrong with me?

The road you take to make yourself feel whole takes work to define. And it takes more work to consciously choose that road over others again and again. I am happy with my choice tonight.

After a long day, I will take this win.

Time to under-think

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When I started this blog, my goal was life lessons. I imagined writing about things that happened to me. Realizations that turned out to be revelations would feel relatable to my readers. It was a good way of looking at it for a while. But somewhere along the road, my idea of what I could post on here shifted.

I would write entire drafts but would feel like the message wasn’t good enough. Good enough for what, I’m not sure. Sometimes I would write my heart out after a horrible day and feel like I was inflicting my woes on the world and leave it in the drafts folder. Imagine putting a standard on the kind of days you have which decided if they were good enough to share or not. Like you needed to have just the right kind of bad day to get an interesting lesson out of it. A ridiculous notion, I have now found.

The problem is over-thinking. Everything. It is so easy to get caught in the cycle of over-thinking – things from little interactions to what someone means when they respond with “ok.” For me personally, I frequently end up imagining how I’ve made this person feel and how they tailored their acknowledgement (their “ok”) to a true reflection of what they think about me. Another ridiculous notion. 

In the natural way of things, too much thinking should be countered with little thinking or under-thinking. Take this blog, for instance. The amount of time spent wondering if a post was “right”, was time I could’ve spent posting something every week. What does it matter if everything isn’t perfectly balanced? It’s only a blog and I’m not trying to save the world here. Just write for myself and create something with my name to it. No need to over-think it. Just gotta under-think and post about it. 

Human interactions are the same. To wonder the meaning behind each text has little consequence. People may or may not have hidden meanings behind texts and voice tones on the phone. But until you know there’s a problem, why imagine the possibility of one. Under-think, my friend. Under-think the living daylights of some interactions to counter your over-thinking until you find moderation. A balance between the two.

Under-thinking has been a great addition to my life. I am still learning when to use it and when I actually do need to give a thing some thought. I’m sure I will make mistakes. But that’s alright. 

This post isn’t really as organized as I’d like it to be. But that’s alright. I’m sure you won’t mind ^^

Coffee, cotton balls or nothing

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Today, I’m thinking about how so much of what constitutes as our emotions and attitudes is self-imposed. If you find someone in an angry mood, it’s because they’ve chosen to be angry. The world did not decide to make events occur to invoke their wrath on this particular day. Whatever makes someone angry is just an experience. Someone may have yelled at them or rear ended them or bumped into them spilling their vanilla bean frappuccino (is that a thing?). And they responded by being angry.

I once read this analogy which explains it really well. Imagine you are walking with a hot cup of coffee and someone bumps into you. Your nice shirt is ruined and all thanks to the person who bumped into you, right? Think on this, what if you were carrying cotton balls in a cup instead? Imagine that same scene again. Not as messy of a situation, if you ask me. You could just pick them up and keep on going. Take a last run at the scene, what if your cup was empty? What then?

People bumping into us is life. What we keep in our cup ready to spill out is up to us. It can be hot coffee. It can be cotton balls. Or it could be nothing.

I suppose the question then becomes what do each of us carry in our cups?

Food for thought.

After a year

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It has been close to a year since I last wrote on here. A lot has changed. I have changed. But I don’t remember deciding to stop writing. I know I pulled my computer to me on several occasions. But what I poured into the page didn’t seem right. Maybe I should’ve posted it anyways. There was some good stuff on there and maybe you would’ve liked it. But that’s behind us. And I’ve got things on my mind today.

Today, I’m thinking of how I used to sit with myself. Or walk with myself on that one trail back in Guelph. I’ve done that since but I feel like there’s been very few such days. I remember those moments. I saw the same path dry, muddy, snowed in and slippery. And as I walked through the woods, so much would come up inside me. Conversations, school work, thing’s I’d put off, how I hadn’t called someone back. But for the most part, it was the disconnect of it all. Even though I saw others on those paths, I thought of them as mine. Mine to escape to. Sometimes I went on a walk when I didn’t want to study or work on a project. Other times just listening to an audiobook. It was one of my most cherished experiences. And I miss it.

In the days since I’ve last written, much has been a blur. I don’t mean that negatively. You know when you start doing something and it’s sunny outside and after a while you look up and it’s dark and hours have passed. It’s like that, really. Only for me, it’s looking inward. And weeks or months have passed. Like I skipped time just living it but not thinking about it. I think it’s because my life is more full than it once used to be. I have loved ones I live more closely with than I did throughout university. I have a full-time job. And the little time I have in my evenings, I’ve spent looking outwards not inwards. I don’t regret it. I did the best I could.

In the last year, I’ve met many new people and had new and interesting social interactions. And I’m happy to say that for the most part, they haven’t been difficult. I attended a few weddings which were perhaps the most eye-opening social experiences. I’ve never been one for dressing up or making small-talk and I’m glad to say I only had to do the former. Conversations happen whether or not you struggle to participate and when I heard something I was interested in, I jumped right in. But my favourite moment had to be at a wedding in a greenhouse, where my partner and I just walked amongst the plants outdoors. It was a hot summer day and we spent a long time out there talking horticulture. It seems ridiculous to me just how much she knows about plants but then again, I could quote all the Harry Potter movies so who am I to talk.

There’s much else that’s happened but I think I’ll quit while I’m ahead before I decide this last half hour’s work isn’t “right” and end up adding it to my drafts.

I hope to write more soon.

The Good Old Days

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There is line in the Office – “I wish there was a way to know you were in the good old days before you actually left them.” That is where I am this evening.

All journey’s end. It is an easy and simple fact until you reach an end. Then it seems neither simple nor easy. If you are like me, you will look around in the final days and see all that used to be. It is an unsettling feeling of change. I felt it when I graduated from university and started working. And I feel it now as I prepare to say farewell to Guelph.

In my last days, I find myself going back to the places, the people and the things that make it difficult to move on. 

The places – Never having owned a car, I went back to that same one trail I’ve been on a hundred times. The university that brought me to the city. Places I’ve eaten at and that one movie theatre on my side of town. Guelph has always seemed small and I’ve only ever taken the bus to get places. But I’ve always enjoyed that and it’s part of what draws me to places now. I learnt about myself living here and I’m grateful for that.

Then there’s the people. They’re harder to say goodbye to. I don’t think there is a right way. Can one say everything that they need to and should? About how lucky you’ve been to meet them. How many times they saved you from dark days or rough times. And how they are the reason moving on will be so hard. Maybe they will all read this and know how much they have come to mean to me. And how lucky I feel to have known them. I met a brilliant lady today who I wish I’d met ages ago. In the short span of conversation, she instantly became one of the things I would miss about Guelph. And all I could do was wish we had met sooner. But that’s just how it is sometimes.

And then there’s me – packed (mostly) and moving forward to whatever awaits tomorrow and all the tomorrows after. I will spare you the workings of a mind leaving a space of comfort and warmth. It is enough to say that my thoughts are in flux but I still manage to take a breath and watch the final days pass by.

And lastly we come to the good old days. How do we know we’re in them when we are?

I don’t know. But I do know that we can look around right now. At everything and everyone you have. At everything that’s worked out or is on it’s way to working out. Look at the smallest victories in your day and those you never thought you’d achieve. Look at the people who ask if you’ve eaten and those who ask if you’re okay. These are “good old days” in the making.

And if you take a minute to appreciate them and the people and trails and places you’ve called home, I believe you’ve done it right.

To be human

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to bear necessary struggle with
discomfort etched in each moment
to sleep away today's defeat and
dream of miracles tomorrow

to harbour love for the world but
detest at your own shadow
to look outward scrambling for
fear of looking inwards

to survive ordeals and trials with
all the courage mustered
to engrave harsh lessons on inner walls so 
they may bear tomorrow's winds

to travel far; weather your soul as
what's left behind aches
to look back, ahead and within; not
knowing which path beckons loudest

to seek a heart that beats in
a way close to your own
to dread failing fragile bonds that
bind souls and journeys alike

to question ones existence through
sun, rain, cloud and dark
to be human in every moment yet
forget that truth time and time again

Peace in your battles

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It’s been a while but today I am thinking about peace. And how we get to it.

Have you ever looked at someone and wondered how they’re keeping it together when you’re falling apart? In our relentless pursuit towards success, a job, financial goals and whatnot, how do we find peace? When do we find peace?

The battles we face are never-ending. You will never have everything entirely sorted exactly how you want it. If you did, honestly there wouldn’t be anything to live for. But lucky for us, we do have our battles. With school, work, friends, family, health or even with ourselves. And don’t be fooled, that person who you think is doing so well, is facing something too. They aren’t perfect and if you wish you could have their life, it would simply replace your battles, not put an end to them.

So where does peace fit in all this?

If you ask me, right in the middle. Of every battle. Of every week. Of every day.

You have to find peace in your battles.

I sometimes look at everything that is going on and my to-do lists. Daily lists and life goals list. And I just put them down and take a walk. I get tired of waiting for battles to end and peace to come, so I create it when I need it. And yes, I could spend that time continuing to struggle so I can finish sooner or do better. But, what is the point? I’m never going to be done.

So, you either sit around waiting for a 2-day break between work projects when you can hike, eat or hang out or you find peace within those battles. I see it as separating yourself from your conflict. You are not your conflicts. What happens in the world around you is merely happening to you. It is not you. This is perhaps one the most liberating thoughts I have ever come across. In the midst of a bad week, it helps me find peace. Peace to me is reading, walking, volunteering at Toastmasters and catching up with those I care about.

Here’s a simple example – going to sleep. How often do you go to sleep stressed because of how your day went? Or thinking about all the work you have to do tomorrow? Feel free to lie to me, but respect yourself enough to admit it internally. And how does that help? You carry your battles to bed and it affects how much you sleep, how well you sleep and overall, your health. In carrying on with your battles at a time meant for peace, you harm your capacity to continue the struggle tomorrow.

Peace isn’t what you’re fighting for. It’s not the end result and it’s not your trophy for finishing first. Rather, it can be your path once it is ingrained in your process. So find peace in your battles. In your weeks. In your days.

Peace comes from within. Do not seek it without.

Buddha

For whom?

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Today, I am in search of clarity. I am struggling with something fundamental – the balance between living for myself and living for others. My search for this balance. And my desperate hope that this balance exists.

We come into this world all loud and fussy. And then we find our people; who raise us in the best ways they can. Sometimes it isn’t much and sometimes it’s a whole lot. And we grow up and learn things in ways that seem best to those who bring us into this world. But, after a certain point you become your own person, or at least I hope everyone does.

To me, the world looks the way it does because of how I choose to look at it. I nurture interests, passions, ideas, plans, timelines as I go along. I try and hold up a compass of my own making to see what feels right and what doesn’t. And though I am blessed with family, mentors and supporters, I am still trying to forge my own path. I want to gravitate towards the things I love. Not just to make time for them, but to build my life around them. To make them what my life is all about.

But every now and then crossroads emerge and choices are put in front of me. The one I am thinking about right now is of that sort.

Being my own person is important to me. Honouring my calling, what makes me happy and who makes me happy – they all fall under being my own person. These are acts that originate from me and may or may not receive the support or blessing of those I consider my supporters. But, I also see the importance in giving back to those who have given to me. I do this by valuing their opinions, their advice and their wishes.

But what do I do when these two appear as a fork in my road? What do I do when I must choose between what I want and what is expected of me?

To live for oneself is a wondrous notion, but to do so at the expense of opposing/rejecting what is expected of you is an equally abhorrent one. I wish I could have both of these align in all the choices that I make but I realize that such a utopia is not yet here. I am of this world and I must live in it.

While this isn’t an answer, this is what I have for you.

We cannot make everyone happy. And we cannot return everything that was bestowed on us by walking a path that isn’t our own. That would dishonour the efforts of those who raise us. We can only hope to find our path and have faith that those closest to us will see it as the best we are capable of.

Boundaries pt.2

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I am thinking about boundaries again. Especially how to approach them from outside, that is, how to behave around someone’s boundaries.

Respect. By accepting the boundaries someone builds, you show that you have respect for them; and for the behaviour they accept around them. It is then your choice to either abide by their wishes or simply limit your communication with them. Believe it or not, these are both healthy choices. What is unhealthy is to probe, poke and guilt people over their boundaries.

Why are you being this way?; I thought we were closer than this; Surely this doesn’t apply to me; I know you said this wasn’t okay but I hope you don’t mind…

None of these are helpful to the person trying to establish a certain way of life. Consider this, we already associate boundaries to be culturally sensitive or when someone is going through something tragic. You wouldn’t joke with someone about an accident or make fun of their culture (I hope). Boundaries are similar. They are guidelines anyone is allowed to set around themselves to remove draining or inappropriate behaviours.

Clarification. If you truly wish to be close to someone, you need to ask how close is alright. Often times, the person setting the boundaries isn’t clear about them. Then it is up to you to ask them what is acceptable and what is not. The difference this little step makes cannot be overestimated. You may just help them realize and actualize their thoughts!

Hey, I wanted to talk to you about ______. Are you comfortable talking about it?; Is it okay if we talk about this?

And these do not have to be recurring everyday questions that strain relationships. Ask someone to clarify their boundaries and have a conversation. That lays a path forward for you both. What they need and what you can provide laid bare. This is not a promise of alignment, rather a clear view of how you can communicate in the future.

Honestly, it can be frustrating or even scary when someone puts up boundaries. Especially when you feel like you’ve done nothing wrong. Try and remember then that we’re all human. Sometimes it takes people a while to figure out what is and isn’t acceptable to them. They’re not laughing and celebrating as they create this distance between them and others. This is an ordeal for most people.

Be human in accepting boundaries.

"Boundaries are the distance at which I can love you and me simultaneously" 
- Prentis Hemphill

Boundaries

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Today, I am thinking about boundaries.

As someone who is open and friendly, setting boundaries was a difficult prospect for me. It sounded like locking a gate and stopping people from entering my life. Or even adding unnecessary distance that would only make things more difficult. Things are much clearer now. And I realize just how much I need them.

Boundaries are most difficult in happy and easy-going relationships. Because of all the happiness and the easy-going attitude. We begin to settle into what feels familiar and anything that emerges is labelled as the “byproduct of a happy relationship”. Despite arguments and disagreements, we may not acknowledge any discomfort that comes up. Because if the relationship is one full of love and happiness, why would there be discomfort? Well, because love is blind and happiness is relative.

And discomfort sneaks in when we forget these two key points.

Love is a powerful emotion. But it is not an entirely positive one. It extends from wanting the best for someone and having deep affection for them. But, often this is misinterpreted. Often, some fail to understand the distinction between wanting the best for someone and knowing what’s best for someone. They influence and direct (out of love, of course) their loved ones into paths they think lead to happiness. Or at least to their idea of happiness.

That is a point where boundaries are necessary. They are not an “I’m right and everyone else is wrong” zone where no one is allowed. They are a way of life that advertise the behaviours we are willing to accept around us.

This is not a caution to the wind approach. I am not advocating hasty and irresponsible life decisions. This is not about rejecting all advice, comments or opinions that differ from yours. Boundaries can take different kinds of shapes. The volumes at which you choose to have discussions. Whether or not a topic is open for discussion. The time you need to yourself. The type of language you prefer being used around you.

I see boundaries as defining the behaviours we accept around us. If someone’s actions don’t align with our boundaries, we don’t need to categorize them as “wrong”. Just as “wrong for us”. They do not need to understand our boundaries, merely to acknowledge and respect them. And we owe them the same for any boundaries they have.

Today, I am thinking about boundaries. And how they translate to self-care.

Light and dark

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I laughed hard today, and rejoiced.
The day was of my own making.
Things went where they should.
So did the words.
Everything was well.

This light, I embraced it.
I pressed it to myself and held my breath.
The moments stopped just then.
Everyone and everything ceased.
As did the clocks.

I waited for change, it comes always.
But not now it seemed.
This light I held on to was it.
It was mine after a long time.
I couldn't let go.

It struck me then, the fool I was.
I was holding tight to a thing fleeting.
A thing embraced and let go.
For its arrival meant good things.
And to come, it had to go.

I slacked my grip, bit by bit.
And the clocks they started too.
People moved, the world unfroze.
And I knew how it must be.
I opened my arms wide.

My light. It flew away far.
I saw the shades of dark approach.
I shivered and mustered my resolve.
It was time to move on.
Time to move through.

It was easier this time. The dark.
Though I still ached at its end.
But that joy, that light returned.
As it if it was an old friend.
Mine again fleetingly.

Own the experience

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Today, I am thinking about our experiences, especially those that make us happy or fulfilled or make us feel connected. This experience could be a new restaurent, a trip somewhere or even your culture.

Some experiences we are born into, like those around us or our environment. These, we we have little control over. At least until we are old enough to start venturing outwards to what feels right or exciting or promising. We reach out and embrace new experiences for all they could hold for us. They could range from life-changing to meh. Ironically, sometimes a walk, a meal or a conversation can be life-changing and travel can be just meh. Depends on you, I suppose.

The joy or sadness we get out of an experience is our own, but it is all too natural to want to share it with someone. I sometimes read a book and immediately wish there was someone else who had read it too. We could talk about the characters, the themes and so much more. But, that’s me. You might like talking about travel, or your past semester or an upcoming milestone. The same extends to negative experiences. The hurt we take from those also feels better when it’s shared.

All in all, it feels pretty good to share both positive and negative experiences. But what do you do when you can’t?

Some people may choose to ignore, invalidate or dishonour your experiences, perhaps unintentionally. They simply might not agree with you. They may just be having a bad day. Or perhaps the emotion of your experience isn’t all that important to them. Whether done out of spite or unknowingly, it can hurt all the same.

In those times, I think it’s comforting to take refuge in our experiences and what they mean for us. The fact that we cannot share our stories does not diminish what they meant for us. It is simply a single avenue that may be closed off to us, but others exist. I like to write about my experiences. Some people scrapbook. Others simply reminisce over cups of tea.

Your experiences are your own. If I tried to explain why I choose to be spiritual or what it means to me, it could be exhausting for you to listen. But it is MY experience which means I can find solace in it like nobody else can. I find that to be a comforting thought. That while sharing is a happy act, a lack of it doesn’t invalidate what I take from any experience.

I invite you to honor your experiences, what they meant to you, what you took from them and carry them in whichever way you choose to. Own you experiences, even if sharing them is not always an option!

Growth isn’t linear

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I wish I could walk a straight path
From where I am to where I'll be
But winds and storms, they had their say
And I ended up by the sea

I walked and walked the sandy shores
In search of another face
One who walked a path like mine
And hopefully at a similar pace

My path was desolate, empty and bleak
Not another soul I came across
I went where the winds carried me
My loneliness was my loss

Up and down I went, hither and thither
Often two steps backward lost,
I wondered why it must be so
My insides turned and tossed

In my search for a path to follow,
Or footsteps I could pursue
I didn't notice how far I'd come
Or the path I'd forged anew

A path made of my own mistakes
My trials and my tribulations
As messy and winding it may have been
It was a path of my own creation

I walked it alone as I started
And lonesome, I walk it now
For no one has ever been me before
That, nature simply cannot allow

I set out wishing a straight path
And now I'm thankful for it all
The twists and turns, the ups and downs
They're my own and now I stand tall

To expect or not

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Expectation is the thief of joy. It is the root of all heartache. Some well-known people came up with these quotes and with good reason, I have learned. But it is so easy to expect, is it not?

How that interview will go? How an exam will go? How that date will go?

We tend to attach expectations to many parts of our lives. It becomes an involuntary reflex at one point. We unconsciously weave our expectations into our minds and conversations. And why? Simply because we wish for things to go our way.

We want that job, that high grade, that good night kiss.

It’s entirely human and I don’t fault anyone for expecting a certain outcome. But, I must concur that it does often lead to heartache. It is a simple truth we choose to ignore. That we expect something, and we might just get something else. The heartache comes when we pin all our hopes on something working out. When the possibility of it not going our way is too painful to bear. Have you ever held such unrealistic expectations of yourself? Or of someone else? How did that go?

To me, it sounds like such a burden. To pray for a certain path and be in fear and dread of another, with no way of knowing which you’ll have to take. And that sorrowful statement raises the question: to expect or not?

I favor the latter. Don’t expect. To get that job. To get that grade. Or to get that good night kiss.

Try having faith instead.

Try believing that whatever the outcome is, things will work out for you. No matter which path you are forced to take, you will find your way. Faith has carried me through some of the hardest moments of my life. I knew things could easily go wrong, so I had faith that no matter what happened, I’d still make it. That I’d still be standing at the end of the day, ready to face the next.

I am not preaching religion here. I am not much for religion myself. This can be something entirely different. This can replace the dread of an outcome with the assurance of recovery. It is simply, the hope that everything happens for a reason. And that whether we can understand it or not; whether we can appreciate it or not; it is leading us through our journey.

Faith is not easy. You may still be put down by what falls in your hands. But faith provides a way forward. More than anything, it brings peace. Imagine a life where whatever is to come tomorrow doesn’t bother you today. You are at peace with yourself because it will be alright. You can appreciate today for all it holds. And you will find your way through tomorrow, regardless of what it has in store for you.

Like I said, try having faith!

Lost and found

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Today, I am thinking about the lives we lead, and why we lead them the way we do.

Some of us are luckier than others. We have people around us who give advice, guide us and show us the path forward. They tell us stories of what’s happened to them and others they know. They steer us or rather ask us to steer in the paths they feel are safe and logical. They see it as them doing us a service or maybe just making sure we don’t lose our way. Or even lose ourselves in our poor decisions.

As good as that sounds, is that for the best? How do you define whether something is “for the best”? By whose definition? Theirs or yours?

Being confused about the way forward is natural. We all face cross-roads and sometimes there’s paths leading every which way. In such moments, it’s hard to face those decisions alone and we wish we had someone to tell us what to do. Because let’s face it. No one likes making the wrong decision. You end up wasting time, money and sometimes hurting people in the process. Even yourself.

It then seems logical that you should make the right choice as often as you can. But, every now and then, you might find yourself at a point where what should seem right & logical doesn’t feel right. What do you do then? How do you deny logic and good sense? How do you talk yourself out of a step that makes sense? Would you even try to?

I don’t know. I wish I did.

We all struggle to find ourselves. Bits and pieces come together over the years to form a complete person. Like a puzzle of sorts. And every now and then, you find a perfect piece that would fit you well. Like that perfectly symmetrical corner piece that makes you feel a step closer to finishing the puzzle. But, what if your final shape wasn’t meant to be the perfect square that puzzle makers advertise? What if your corner piece is a star or a cube or a pyramid? How many of us muster the courage to ignore the logically sound corner piece and go with something else?

Here’s a scary thought. If finding yourself is the goal, then surely losing yourself is a part of that journey.

There’s nothing logical about losing yourself. The world and the people around you will not be compassionate as you do so. Chances are they will try and fix you. They may point at and criticize others who have been lost a long time. They will show you perfect puzzle people who look like they have it all. And you may choose to let someone hold your hand and take you along the “right” way. There is no shame in that. But I cannot promise that there will be no regret. That will be up to you.

Losing yourself to find yourself is a terrifying prospect. For me personally, the scary part isn’t whether I will be able to find myself. It’s whether I will have the courage to allow myself to be lost in the first place. To spend time figuring out what shape of puzzle piece I am.

That is what I must face. And it terrifies me.

Let them down

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I have always wanted to help. Or to be the person that could help anytime, all the time. It’s felt right most of my life. But, I am that person no longer.

For the longest time, I thought that I could be there for everyone. It seemed like if you were a good person, you’d never turn someone away. You would contort and shift things around and find a way to get things done for them. A favour for a friend; a chore for the family; helping a colleague. I never thought to draw a limit because it felt unnatural.

All this stemmed from a young age where I lacked support. Not love, but support. I grew up in an environment where learning to live independently was intermingled with isolation. Leave them be and they’ll figure it out – was the mindset. And what choice did I have but to figure it out on my own. I learnt things the hard way and in those moments, I believed that it was all for the best. As a kid, my natural instincts were to trust the adults and consider myself as the source of all negativity. So, I kept on pushing and pushing all by myself.

Our experiences shape us all and I’m no exception. I did not ever wish for anyone to feel that way again. So, I considered myself charged with the responsibility of being there for others. I wasn’t good at it all the time, but I constantly wished I was. And so I pushed and I pushed and some days, I collapsed under the burden of this mindset.

But, I am that person no longer.

As of these few months, I am learning to let people down. I am learning to say “no.”

My values about helping someone in need haven’t disappeared. However, now I turn to myself and ask, “Am I capable of providing help in this moment?”. Wishing you could help doesn’t mean you can. And promising help when you know you cannot; may provide you with instant gratification but, in the long run, it simply isn’t sustainable. You end up letting people down anyways. We have to make peace with letting people down. Not as a first resort, but as a result of considering your current state.

You may surprise people when you say no. They may be shocked that after all this time you are putting your foot down. Do not let that faze you. This is a boundary and an important one at that. Some people around us get used to us being malleable. To us shifting our priorities to achieve their goals. It’s one thing to lend a hand and another, to be continuously unhappy or inconvenienced by things that people ask of you. Learn to let them down.

The world often praises those who lived all their lives for others, but that’s not my path. I’ve learnt that when you give someone a hand to pull them up, you gotta make sure you have the strength to get them up. Otherwise, you both end up on the floor.

What is so right for them, could be all wrong for you. What they need, you will not always have. And who they want you to be, might just not be who you are.

End well

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Have you ever left something incomplete? How do you walk away when you’re giving up on something or more importantly, someone?

Let’s start at the start. I get really excited at the start of new things. Like buying a new notebook and having no idea what you’re gonna write in it. Or meeting someone and the first few minutes of conversation going really well. It’s this small feeling that arises which foretells good times ahead. By now, I know that it doesn’t always pan out that way but I can’t help getting that feeling. Or maybe I want to feel it. Who doesn’t reach for scraps of contentment and assurances that good things are to come?

And then there’s the process itself. The next day comes. More conversations ensue. And you start filling in that notebook with something. Maybe your thoughts or a calendar or artwork. And the process brings with it so much – good moments, unsure moments and those dreaded “do I really want to do this?” moments. These are the ones that often lead to us deciding that the process is not worth it. We overthink things. We panic. We tell ourselves it was never that big of a deal. And then one of two things happens. You either stick with it and see where it takes you. Or you leave it behind and walk away.

Here, I mean to make my message clear – Notebooks and projects can’t feel it when you give up on them. People do.

When you walk away from someone, how do you do it?

I’ve seen my fair share of people walking away from me, for many reasons. In the hurt caused by them doing so, the reason becomes irrelevant. But whether they mention the reason makes all the difference in the world. Today’s social norms are incredibly ignorant of common courtesies. It’s all too normal to start something, lead someone on and the minute you feel unsure, back out without any warning or explanation.

It’s entirely possible you see this as a harmless way of saving yourself pain in explaining why you’re giving up. Perhaps you’ve chosen the most irrational or illogical of reasons. Or perhaps it was really important for you to walk away. But, the one you leave behind has no way of knowing this. They are left doubting themselves, their words and their actions towards you. They aren’t crippled or devastated by this, but it does have a lasting effect. Eventually, they start to perceive the world differently.

They trust differently. They judge differently. They see differently.

Is saving yourself a short conversation really worth this? Must we really be so self-occupied?

I have a friend who is one of the best people I’ve ever known. And as I talked about this with them, I see what it can do to people. I see what it did to me when one of my closest friends chose to walk away. And it’s not something I wish upon those I care about or anyone really.

So if you find yourself in a place where you need to give up. I ask you to find the strength to say you’re done. And if you can muster it, say why you’re leaving. End well.

It’s a person you’re walking away from, not a notebook you’re throwing into a drawer because what you wrote on the first page wasn’t picture perfect. It rarely ever is.

End well.

Mortem

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I write with a somber note. Today, my thoughts are turned to all those who have lost someone. And to those they lost.

It is a harrowing matter to consider and many would not wish to write about it. Why relive a moment in which you felt like your world would never be the same again? Why talk about it when it is perhaps the most pain you felt in a long time? But I am a writer. When something bothers me, I put it to words. I take away its hold on me in the only way I know how.

I remember a night from when I was 10 years old. I was tossing and turning in bed until a thought shook me awake. I walked over to my parents room and sat at the foot of their bed. I sat there for hours thinking about only one thing – “Someday, I would lose them. On that day, it’d be just me against the world with no one to turn to for advice. And no one to clean up the messes I made.” After a few hours, I forgot all about it and went on with my day. But, I’d be lying if I said that I do not think about that night quite often.

To contemplate the end of a life is hard. To live through it even more so. But, it is perhaps one of the few things we do know with absolute certainty. There is so much we love to predict. Right from the weather to stock markets around the world. So much of our life revolves around predicting but we often look away from this one certain fact – The people around us will pass on someday and so will we.

But, what do we know about what comes after death? No offense to any religious beliefs, but what do we really know? Who amongst us can truly predict what comes after? Not a single soul that still walks and breathes on this earth can foretell the journey of one that has crossed over. I find solace in this lack of knowledge. I would like to believe that a better world awaits. That it is simply a door to the next life. Perhaps the night here is somewhere else a dawn.

Another thought that comforts me is about what death gives us, rather than what it takes away. In a way, it is what love roots from. We love and hold close those we love because we know that they must leave someday. Imagine wishing an eternal life for one you love. Is it truly a fate you would inflict on someone? Or would you rather that you never have to see them pass but they must deal with your loss in their time?

In the end, death is what gives meaning to our time on earth. That those who come after us, remember our days and what we made of them. They remember how we lived and words we spoke and the acts we performed.

It is, therefore, up to us. Both in how we live through the time that is given us; and in how we remember those who have passed.

All this makes me think – the age old words, “Life is a journey, not a destination” are incredibly apt.