Postmortem

Things haven’t been the easiest. This year. I guess as humans we are hardwired to see the grey spots in an otherwise clean white canvas. Exaggerate our circumstances. But how can we not also! Those small grey spots compromise the entire integrity of the white canvas, right! But is life only and exactly that white canvas with grey spots? Maybe it is also a canvas of all possible random colours with no permanent meaning! I am still trying to figure it out, make sense of the things around me.

Priorities have evolved throughout the last 365 days. Discovering the uncomfortable truths about my deepest values. Learning so many things along the way about people, things, and love. Feeling grounded more than ever. That saying that ‘life has a way of keeping you humble’, has so much truth to it.  And every time my old soul tastes some ounce of disappointments here and there with the way how the world works, I am reminded of practicing humility more profoundly than ever. The unkindness that this world has, breaks my heart. Nothing much there is that I can do about it either, other than practicing compassion and kindness as much as I practice forgiveness.

People are a certain way because of something that might have happened to them (childhood trauma most likely). Understanding this piece of history about people has helped my perspective. And perspectives build maturity. Maturity brings the ability to let go. And that has been my biggest takeaway from the last few months. Circumstances, people, especially the ones that are all the more difficult to just drop, give up, part with.

On the writing front, I have never written so little in the past five years! I have also not had so much stress, like ever. Work stress mostly. Instagramming takes time, I discovered that too, and nothing takes priority over my sleep and chai time with my family. I did read twelve books this year, nothing new here. Blake Crouch’s Dark Matter and Kathryn Stockett’s The Help were good reads. Visited two new cities with Denis. Hong Kong was more stimulating. Bali was more about mindless drinking and then regretting it. Visited Siliguri twice this year. The love and hate relationship with my hometown continues.

I want to promise myself that I will write more in the next year, and that I will finally publish my two damn books, and that I will exercise more, and be more mindful of who I am from within, but then will I?