2024 on 2023- The Year of Consciousness

                                             2024 on 2023- The Year of Consciousness

 

 

As Covid memories get older, life resembles a pre-COVID rave party for some, and a humanitarian nightmare for others,

Right and wrong blurs in a world of extremes where luxury jets fly everywhere but aid planes need access rights,

In my sheltered, utopian existence, I turned to philosophy in 2023 to make some sense of it all.

Teleology and etiology merged with conscious parenting, the art of living seemed as simple as breathing.

Breathing wasn’t simple though, was it? Ask those living in Uber polluted cities gasping for a climate-altered hot breath.

I can make my 2024 resolutions to smile, dance, love and laugh more and I will but am I not a COP out if that’s all I do?

The one resolution from 2023 which I followed was to stop running away: from my thoughts, from people, from emotions, from places. 

When I wanted to run away, I remembered my child’s spontaneity and love of every moment which gave me pause, and brought me back to my consciousness,

It was a year of many achieved desires ranging from mortgages to baby sleep certification and a realization that desires and breaths will accompany me to the end…

Which one will serve me well, its quite obvious to tell?

Friends gained and friends lost … I thanked both kinds for keeping me company in a part of this journey of life.

How grateful was I for every moment spent with those who saw off the last day of 2023 and the first day of 2024 with me with laughter, tears, dances and balloons.

You know who you are, take a bow as you remind me everyday to take life slow…

Through this tumultuous, perfectly imperfect year, most of all I re-learnt how to love myself. 

3rd from the Start

                                                                   3rd from the Start 

Dearest Rish,

                           I decided to start a short poem series for your birthday this year which should be a realistic enough goal to continue for every year.  If I start to write a note, it may never end.  So I thought a poem might be more contained and express my (sometimes sappy but always beautiful) overwhelming emotions more succinctly:

If its true that all the world’s a stage, then we were all supposed to be the star of our own show,

And we are that blazing star just like a heroine in &Juliet if we choose to be but somewhere somehow we get stuck.

Parents aren’t what they were supposed to be, or school wasn’t or that first job wasn’t,

I was the star too but I got lost mid-way, wondered what my purpose was, wondered if I was good enough through the best years of my life,

I didn’t know I wanted you but there you were suddenly, a little speck, almost unreal, somewhere in my belly.

I was never lonely after that for nine months, even if I was alone and my thoughts were never my own, only that I would safely hypnobirth this little baby growing inside me,

When you were in my arms after a strangely gratifying labour and birthing process, I couldn’t stop staring at you and touching you;

No one and nothing had prepared me for the avalanche of emotion and madness that followed where my mind was split into two – one loving you and the other wanting my old life back;

But whenever I saw you and held you, there was only ever awe, and an overwhelming loss of my immortality complex in the face of your beautiful creation;

Living in the moment wasn’t just a new year’s resolution but a necessity to keep up with this precocious, ever changing ball of contradictions,

My stage was not my own anymore but I was slowly learning from you to be its star again, re-parenting myself with your guidance;

Whether today I am your favourite parent or not, you remain my favourite conscious soul, happy 3^rd my love!

Love, Consciously

Why do we have children? The fact that I can even ask this questions signals that I am one of those lucky few women who have a choice over their own bodies and reproductive rights and everything I write here is qualified with that gratefulness.  But to go back to the original question, we all have very personal reasons why we have children.  I thought about it a lot pre-kid but I always knew we would have one as my husband was so sure he wanted one.  He wouldn’t be able to tell me why he did but his unwavering certainty allowed my doubts to quell a bit.  So we had one. Rish.  And he changed my perspective on everything! This isn’t a bubbly, frothy, mothers day post about how he is the best thing to happen to me.  That’s subjective and what he has done isn’t subjective.  He is objectively the single most important factor for my personal growth and my own little mindfulness inspiration.    

In the last year, the theoretical teachings of two of my gurus have merged with the practicalities of Raising Rish.  Conscious parenting from @Drshefali and the @artofliving from @srisriravishankar aren’t just mantras I hear and forget but they form a part of my core and my values.  It just also means that I examine every action and every word which I speak to my child.  Some people might call this over-thinking but then the alternative is to let my ego override my consciousness which I am unwilling to do.    

How were we parented though? I have really been reflecting on that too.  Conscious Parenting philosophy says that all our issues arise from how unconsciously we were parented ourselves thereby projecting the same unconsciousness onto our children.  Mark Wolyn takes that even further when he goes into generational trauma and epigenetics affecting everything from our diet, our temper and our fears.  Is this a nice thought on Mother’s Day? No and it is worse to suggest to your own mother as I bravely did one time.  Strangely enough though, she took it much better than I thought she would.  Along with the expected (you had a great childhood! and I really did, all things considered) came the unexpected (what does this mean and how do you apply it?) and then it made me think- yes there was some additional enmeshment, yes there were punishments which wouldn’t be super “conscious” when examined through today’s lens.  But even without the benefit of everything we know today, there were glimmers of conscious parenting shining through (I was never hit, I was able to voice my opinions and stop tennis or piano but continue with dance). 

Maybe it was unconscious consciousness? Just as I know, I now have some conscious unconsciousness.  I just know one thing remains the same with mothers through the generations.  Love.  With a slight twist, for me: Love, Consciously.  Happy Mothers (Mindfulness) Day!  

AI v me - Competing on verse and soul

Recently, I had some time so I decided to give ChatGPT a spin.   I asked it some deep existential questions. Nah.  Actually I just asked it (is that the right way to address ChatGPT in terms of its gender identity? I guess we will only know when ChatGPT publishes its/their profile on Linkedin and adds the parentheses on pronouns/genders) some questions on recent books and short writing assignments I was considering.  First of all, I congratulate the ones who conceptualised, programmed and created ChatGPT.  It is brilliant and I can understand why Microsoft wants to fire employees and find the budget to invest in it (I am sure those employees are less understanding than I am).  I think this proves beyond doubt that AI has already begun replacing humans at least in terms of the balance sheet numbers for companies. 

The focus of my search was related marginally to this theme of AI replacing humans.  But I am not an engineer or a coder, despite my lack of trying (you saw what I did there?), only a recent born-again closet writer and a spiritualist so I will aim to test out ChatGPT only in matters of verse and soul.  Less action, more words.  Here we go:

--

Poem 1:

Eros, the god of love and desire,

With bow and arrow, hearts he'll inspire.

He brings passion and ecstasy,

In every heart, a flame will be.

Ponos, the god of toil and work,

With strength and sweat, he'll make us perk.

He brings discipline and perseverance,

To reach our goals, with tireless endurance.

Eros and Ponos, two sides of the same coin,

One brings joy, the other toil and toil.

But both play a role in our lives,

Eros for love, Ponos for strive.

Eros brings us to the heights of pleasure,

Ponos helps us to measure,

The strength of our will and our might,

To overcome obstacles, day and night.

Eros and Ponos, together they'll guide,

To a balanced life, with love by our side.

We'll work hard, and love with all our heart,

With Eros and Ponos, we'll never depart.

---

Poem 2:

Eros and Ponos had never met, not while they lived in Greece at the same time,  

But they lived in her mind, co-existed while living parallel lives, always by her side.

She lived in a state of constant search, 

Always seeking the next Tinder date, the next Linkedin job alert,

Forever driven by Eros and egged on by Ponos.

One day she decided she would take them out for drinks instead of the Google engineer she had found on Bumble,

Her intentions focused on making the twain meet and settle the Battle of her Headspace (rather than an evening of retrenchment grumble). 

Why, she asked, can you not join forces and help me find joy in career and love?

Your methods so similar, your rejection so cold and that elusive success of legends old. 

I have danced the dance of strengths and weaknesses with many a senior interviewer,

Eluded the advances of unsuitably budgeted startup roles,

Only to be left at the altar by my bad lover dream job.  

 

Many a long and impressive resume have had me swooning after dreamy bankers,

There was speed bed-working, intense love-storming but they all burnt out after the all-nighters, 

Finally I signed on the contract to be employed forever,

How would I know it would end with a cold email break-up?

Eros smiled her charming smile while Ponos stopped frowning for a while,

There is no separating us in your mind, my child.

Ponos exists to make you work but there is no Eros without work,

Careers aren’t forever but skills built on the job can be.

Love can be forever, as long as you loved yourself first,

The Tale of Eros and Ponos is the Tale of Eternity,

Of every human, of you.

 ---

Your job is to tell me which one ChatGPT wrote and which one is mine.  I wont mind if you like Chat GPT's version better but you may not like the near future of homo sapiens much in that case. Let me know y'all? I will be chatting up ChatGPT some more in the meantime. 

2022 going on 2023: Rabbit to the Tiger

 

What did the Rabbit say to the Tiger: its ok if you missed reflecting on 2022 changing to 2023 – new years differ in every culture (western and Chinese in this case) so its fair to reflect on either (or both).  I am writing this at the end of the Chinese year festivities but reminiscing about the Western year end celebrations, so I am doing both I guess. 

2022 or year of the Tiger (also my Chinese zodiac coincidentally) was a year which made me both sanguine and wary about the human condition.

It was a year I completed a record number of interviews, got a record number of offers and then ended up without any job at all for 1.5 months (all records are judged against my own previous ones).  It was therefore a year where I realized I am much more than my job and my career and the vagaries of any employer. 

It was a year where some friendships and relationships seemed fuller and more enriching than ever while others dulled maybe never to flower again.  It was also the year I realized that the deepest wounds can hurt less if the balm of love and family can be applied at the right time.

It was a year where I finished reading Sapiens and Conscious Parent and internalized both within my parenting and in life only to wonder where the parent ends and the child begins.   

It was a year when travel came back in full force and the term ‘revenge travel’ was born after COVID mostly retreated.  But for once I didn’t feel any FOMO.  Travelling less, travelling well and travelling with the right people became paramount and the most enjoyable. 

It was a year where inner richness was the focus by concentrating on meditation and breath-work so that even when the outer world seemed uncontrollable (and it is, always uncontrollable) I could begin to control my anxiety and inner world more efficiently.

Finally, it was a year where I realized that happiness comes from everything when my mind is in the “right” place (right brain- relationship oriented while left brain- task oriented) but no one dictates whether, why or when I can be happy.  Only I hold that power, truly.   

1^st of January 2023 was exactly that sort of irreconcilably happy day with some of the best people in my life.  2023 and Year of the Tiger both look good to me right now.

Metaphorical Hostages

 

Back in 2017, I got this book “Hostage at the Table” from IMD Business School, Lausanne with my admission confirmation.  It was my MBA application phase and I was trying out all my next level choices after getting a #rejection from my first choice school: INSEAD.  I was also dealing with major imposter syndrome to think I could really make something out of doing a full-time MBA with six years of law firm experience.  This was reinforced by conversations with recent #lawyer-MBAs or just MBA grads in general involving difficulties finding jobs in the UK during Brexit, procuring a visa in Europe for a Non-European, dealing with student debt and the prospect of having to start another career path at a junior position along with various personal considerations.  Looking back, I don’t think all of these were really valid objections in themselves as I can certainly refute each of them now with very carefully crafted arguments and examples learnt with the wisdom of age (and #Linkedinstalking) but sometimes gut instinct excels in creating so-called logical arguments. 

I digress. Going back to George Kohlrieser’s Hostage at the Table, invites from some top-notch business schools in UK and Europe and my head trapped in a “hostage situation” as per the classic explanation from the author: “any time you feel entrapped, powerless and helpless, you are, in fact a hostage”.  This #metaphorical hostage situation was only broken by applying and getting accepted to be a part-time MBA student at NUS Business School while continuing to work full-time.  I loved living in Singapore.  I was (and am) bullish on Asia.  On the other hand, it was nothing like I had ever imagined my MBA journey to be.  That is both a positive and a negative statement just as the best oxymorons tend to be. 

I completed in April 2020 and so much has happened since.  Not even counting the Covid Blip.  I am still working primarily as a lawyer so many people ask me what I “gained” out of the MBA? I always flip it back to say – what does anyone gain out of most things in life?  Just experiences, memories and certain unmeasurable intangible benefits.  I hate justifying life choices and I will not pretend that I have not questioned and examined myself tediously on the same question.  Do I regret declining IMD and the others who had graciously offered me a spot and a chance at a different life? Maybe.  But as I completed reading Kolhrieser’s (incidentally a professor at IMD I missed learning directly from) master-piece, one quote jumped out at me and still does: “you have the right to choose to do whatever you want”.  So simple yet so powerful.  And today as Singapore celebrates its 57^th Birthday, I celebrate my first as a permanent resident here.  Knowing that any other choice would have led me away from this exact moment which is perfect in its completeness and its incompleteness. Majulah Singapura.          

Mum, Uninterrupted.

 

Today I met a Perfect Mum.  Everything she does revolves around her children.  She is selflessly giving, she cooks perfectly nutritious meals for them, puts her rest and hobbies and friends aside to care for them and play with them.  She is genuinely happy when they are happy and sad when they are sad.  But somewhere inside she is silently screaming.  Where is the joie de vivre promised from motherhood, she asks?

 

I am not the right person to answer, I tell her.  I am an Imperfect Mum.  I question the long work hours spent away from my child but I know I do it because I value any skills I can bring to better this world and make a living at the same time. I do date nights and vacations with the man I love, even more so because he fathered my child and is my equal partner in bringing him up.  I meet new friends and chase old friends I still care about even though they sometimes seem too lost to remember me.  I go for massages when I am tired and aching from my workouts on a weekend which I should spend completely with my child.  I feel happy and guilty that we can afford good help but jealous of her that she spends more time with my child than me.  I compartmentalize the time I spend with my child everyday even (gasp!) scheduling it into my calendar. But when we are together, nothing else matters.  Time stops in his eyes and his smile and oh, how we dance, how we giggle.     

 

I never believed I could be a mum as the only mum I knew was a Perfect Mum, my own mum.  Just like you.  But as I grew up and reflected on some snippets of my childhood, I realized she wasn’t as Perfect.  In the constraints of her own middle class Indian life, she found time to learn and sell hand-made clothes, learn and take pottery classes and has slowly evolved to be a loved social and community leader.  She confessed she was jealous of my grandmother spending more time with me while she toiled away in the kitchen preparing meals for us or taking care of the home.  She longed to go out for movies with my father and when I was older, she did and they took vacations away from me too, just the two of them.   

 

She taught me to embrace being an Imperfect Mum and that is the only way I know to break free and enjoy Motherhood, not suffering alone but enjoying as part of a team.   I know many Imperfect Mums and this Mother’s Day I want to tell them how perfect they are, just as they are.  Let’s accept the guilt and look at finding our Joie de Vivre in the everyday.