Liberation and Control

A liberated mind is lighter than the mind seeking control.

The other day, I travelled by bus and got down at LIC , Mount Road, walked a few meters ahead to cross the road and reach the Spencers Shopping Centre, and by that time I was profusely sweating. It naturally frustrates. It becomes a cause of irritation. Then I realized, “Hei, what is there to be frustrating and irritating!?” It’s summer. It’s supposed to be hot. In hot season as this, you don’t freeze, you sweat. and that too in Chennai (Madras).

And then on, I realized I felt better as I walked through the pavement, perhaps less irritated from the weather, and began to enjoy the people and sights and sounds around me; for the first time went straight looking for the washroom to wash my hands and face before I get on with the remaining things I wanted to do.

In liberating my mind from the friction of wanting to be cool in a hot summer day, I ‘designed’ as a conscious choice a reasonable comfort through ‘acceptance’, comparing to the amount of frustration and irritation I would have subjected myself to by clinging on to my fight against the law of nature.

How does this apply in other spheres of our life, relationship, management etc?

What is it that I am fighting with, internally? What is it that I am holding on to, that if I liberate it from my clutches of thoughts, it could bring for me better results than what I yield by holding on to it? What am I not doing from fear or anger or sadness or anxiety or frustration, that if I do with the curiosity of a child, could bring for me results that will make feel ‘aha!’ with delight?

When I begin to complain about the loudness around me, can I liberate that anger by reframing my thoughts of that loudness as the ‘sound’ of the dynamic life around me and begin to enjoy the sound– loudness transformed to sound through the process of that liberation? When I begin to get frustrated about the crowded street, can I liberate that frustration by reframing my thought of that crowdedness as ‘tolerance’ of bullock-carts and cars and cattle fitting together to form the eco-system of the community I am living in? When I am concerned about getting drenched in rain, is it not possible to liberate that concern by looking at that as an opportunity to play by making myself accept that it’s OK to play in the rain and it’s OK for the clothes to be wet? Can I develop to hold my ‘emotion’ in seeing a broken vase and my daughter beside, and ‘accept’ that the vase is breakable and it would have broken one or other way now or later, and therefore ‘liberate’ the emotion of ‘anger’ that would otherwise dominate my action?

There are many unnecessary and unproductive ‘locks’ that we lock our minds with, which if we liberate or unlock, I realized, will bring us a better and relaxing feeling of what we otherwise thought as a trouble. The key to unlock is with us: what we tell our selves about what is happening with us, within us and around us. And when what we tell us is affirmative, in acceptance, it becomes easier to partner with it than to fight and conquer.

I just thought I want to write about it, perhaps to bring clarity to my thoughts on ‘liberating the thoughts that has potential to lock our performance’, or to simply write what I feel to write now.

Shahir

In A Glass Box!

Many are standing in different corners, most of them with their heads bowed and eyes fixed on a point on the floor or gazing at nowhere; those who came earlier, are slowly giving space to those who are coming still; many continue to come, everyone finding a corner or a person or a group who are familiar to them, and begins a discussion in whispers about how all that happened, and with their heads nodding in response to the explanations they hear of how it all happened, and how everything changed for a few and how they will need to rewrite the script of their life with the new change!

I just returned from a funeral of someone in my neighborhood who died yesterday as a result of a tragic road accident in a place near Bangalore. Shaji – as he is called by his friends, is of my age, and a dynamic person with a good and wide network of people. The long winding rows of vehicles of people who had come to see his body is an indication of how connected he is with people of Pandikkad (the town I live) and the neighbouring towns and villages. Young and old, men and women, boys and girls, they all stood in silence, in groups, and as reflective individuals, perhaps everyone reflecting on his character, on his little little achievements, sympathizing from distance on the family that he left behind, expressing concerns about the future of his two little children; there were waves of silent prayers in the air, to rest Shaji’s soul in peace.

On my way back, I was seeing myself in that glass box; embalmed, lying straight, neat and in eternal silence!! What if it was me in that box?

Since the time I left this town in 1991, there is hardly a handful of people who would know me, what has transpired in my life since then till now, what I do now and what I have accomplished and what I aspire to accomplish! Because I am not a socializer, I am hardly seen in the common places in the town where the people gather for an evening chat, my time during holidays are mostly at home, immersed in a book or two or working on a project or other with my laptop as my company. My leisure time was spent with family, especially with my mom; it’s only now since I returned to India that I began to start meeting people from in and around, that too in the context of engaging for one or other training program for organizations here.

If in that box it was me who was lying horizontal, will I be given an empty sent-off on my final journey to my ultimate destination? Who would be standing around me in the corners of the room? Will the courtyard of my house be filled with people and will they have anything to remember about my existence around them? How would they remember me? What will they know to reflect on me? What have I given them? How have I touched their lives, while being at a distance?

Because I am their neighbour, the neighbours would know the silent me; because I am their relative, a few of my relatives would know the distant me and even though they do not know me well, they would still be around on that day. Who are my friends? I have hardly any who are ‘real’ friends! They are mostly virtual! Loic or Eric wouldn’t see me on Skype, and gradually the memory of their experience with Shahir would fade in time. Marcelle might send a few emails and live on. Santosh might call after a period of silence. Bander? Somali Ma’m and Shyleshwari and Anil Behal and Murali Nair – they will resign to the thought that I have absconded from the engagements with Orgdyne! Victoria and Violetta and Caroyn and Joseph and Dany – they might feel nostalgic of the few good postings in my blog, and might once or twice wonder the reasons behind the absence!

J.K? Because I wouldn’t be ‘expressing’ anything for days in a row while in the coffin and while being six feet under, and because I am not important and significant in her life anymore professionally or personally, perhaps for a few days she wouldn’t bother to know where I am and what I do; a few days later, she might send a few messages, perhaps sarcastic, on my eternal silence…and when there won’t be a response, she would move on!

I see around me seated, a frail lady with two little girls on her lap – my wife and two daughters. More than the nobility of my character, the agility of her endurance and tolerance is what stood against the test of time. With her is my mother who has seen several ups and downs in her own personal life and witnessed my long journey towards success and the final lap of setbacks. My sister and brothers, and a few friends of my brothers who know me through them…

How eerily silent would that be, that final silent retreat of mine!!

I think I will have to recalculate the mathematics of my life; begin to do a few things I am not comfortable doing but are essential in building a meaningful life! I must seek ways to integrate me more with the community I live in…; there are things I must do…sooner than later.

Imagine if that’s you in that box!!

Shahir.



(Note: If this sounded as "Oh! poor me!", it truly is not the intention. It's a hypothetical analysis of what might be, in reflection of what is in the now.)

Joy of Hope

In between her lines of what keeps her excited these days, Victoria Rose asked me the other day what is keeping me joyous these days.

What’s keeping me joyous these days!

There are times when we hardly realize that there are reasons to be joyous still, in spite of the speed breakers that must be slowing us down from our pursuit of happiness! The question from distance that Victoria threw at me was something that made me ponder, something that made me wonder…

What’s keeping me joyous these days!

One feeling that dominates my thoughts for an answer is the feeling of ‘hope’.

Is it a hope for an unseen future that’s now being modeled from a heap of experience between my fingers as a potter would with his clay?

When the going gets tough and the gaze is fixed on the ceiling attempting to have a peek at the future, ‘hope’ whispers to the ears of our mind the verses of better days to come. When life goes merry-go-round with petals of flowers purple white and red is sprinkled over you from up above, ‘hope’ comes closer to sing for us the jingles and make us crave to live a Sunday more.

In ‘hope’ is the energy; in ‘hope’ is the momentum. It is in it the joy; it is in it the relief. It is the source, and it is the cause.

The joy is springing from a hope that my children will grow to be better than me; the joy is in a hope that the time will bring me back the hearts and minds of those who misinterpreted my language of words and therefore the meaning of my life; the joy is in a hope that the recipe for prosperity is in application of my wisdom; the joy is in remembering the best things I possessed and shared, the best people whose hands I held, and derive from it the energy to make more best and better moments in life.

The joy is in the vibrating nostalgia I carry of the past; the joy is in the dynamic choices I make in the present; the joy is in “who” I am left with than “what” I have in my walk to the future.

The joy is in Living, Loving and Learning.

Shahir