If I do not try...I will not succeed

 

Arun Kumar

Travelling to unfamiliar places holds exciting promises. One being given an opportunity to disrupt the daily routine that life can easily become, and lost among that routine, ever so silently months sneak by.

For a few days or for a couple of weeks, travelling is leaving a world of familiarity behind and looking forward to visiting new ones where I can let myself loose.

If I happen to be going to place I have never been to, I probably have been preparing for the trip for good two weeks before the day of departure trying to put together the logistics - how would I go from the airport to the hotel; how to buy the subway ticket; put together an itinerary and deciding what to see and what to let go because time is finite; where and what to eat; what to pack (not too much that half the clothes come back unworn or not too less that I need to visit a laundromat and stare at its spinning drum).

If I am visiting a place I have already been to, the prep work needed is much less, but the sense of excitement still prevails. For journeys like that there is a sense of comfort in knowing my way around in the place I am going to be. After taking the train from the airport to the city center, when I step out of the platform, I would know exactly that I need to turn left to reach the hotel I will be staying in (and which happens to be the same one I stayed in previously).

Overall, travelling feels good, but it is also hard to get over the disruptions they can be, at least that is what travel sometimes does to me.

I am sure this is not a universal sentiment. Some people, while on the way home from the airport, can stop by the cleaners and leave all their travel clothes behind, and by the time they enter their home, they are back in their old skin.

On the contrary, what happens to me is that after I come back it takes a few weeks to get back into my old routine. It happened this time again.

Here I am a week after coming back from Reading, UK, and I am still trying to get back into my old rhythm. I have not been able to get up at 5 am in the morning as I usually do. Consequently, I have not been able to spend a couple of hours journaling or writing before breakfast and starting office work.

Those couple of hours of activities in the morning are dear to my heart. They anchor my day, provide a sense of purpose, and at the end of the day, if I were to look back and try to assess how may day was, they allow me to say that I would not mind living this very day again. Being able to say that about the day that is winding down is the ultimate compliment a day can hope for.

It has also been a couple of weeks since I have been back that I have not been in the garden and tried to trim the variegated vinca (blue periwinkle) that sensed its freedom while I was away and has decided to throw the runners in all directions.

Since I have returned, it feels like that some connection from my past got severed. This happens often and to remedy this, before heading for travel, I have told myself many times that while on travel if I just keep some traces of home routine then on return, getting back into my routine would be easier.

The strategy, however, has not worked so far. Travelling, as I said, is leaving it all behind and looking forward to letting myself loose. Keeping up a paired down version of home routine feels like a silly proposition.

But at the same time, not doing so does come back to bite me after I return.

Travel is fun, adventurous, introspective, exciting, nostalgic, gastronomic, but I wish that after I come back getting back into my old skin would not be that hard. I wish that the day after I return, I would wake up in the morning and come down in the living room with a steaming cup of Earl Gray, and with its aroma wafting up my nose will open the laptop and start working on a story.

 And not only that, the next weekend after coming back I will step in the yard and let vinca know that I am back.

The next time I travel I will remind myself again to keep some semblance of home routine going. I may fail yet again, but if I do not try, the battle is already lost, and the outcome is already decided.

If I keep trying then perhaps one day, it will become easier to get back into my routine.

Ciao.

Marie-Konding my past

 

Past is becoming heavy

collecting the moments that fall 

from the swinging pendulums of 

ticking clocks,

like puffs of white cotton do 

when getting soaked

under the drizzle 

of monsoon days.

It is becoming hard 

carrying the past around 

on aching shoulders

trying to live a day

as just a day.

It is time to get into 

the attics of my mind, and 

Marie-Konding my past.

It is time to lighten up 

some burdens 

and be free again.

Dissonance

Arun Kumar

Dissonance: A general feeling that a chord within is not in harmony with others and wants to play its own tune.

  

There are periods in our journey across space and time when the psyche is permeated by an undefinable sense of unease. It is a feeling of dissonance bordering on a visceral sensation that something is not right. 

Lying awake at three in the morning, seeds of dissonance suddenly sprout, and triggers could be many. They could be the vague feeling that something is out of place, or they could be an emerging sense of no longer knowing what the heck we are doing, and why.  

Or the trigger could be a growing realization of mortality that can no longer be kept at bay leading to a realization of the futility of some of our engagements, or of grudges we continue to hold. 

Then there are life transitions that are a fertile ground for the seeds of dissonance to germinate and thrive. 

With the feeling of dissonance comes the quest of how to put life back on track and regain a sense of balance. 

The alternative paths that offer to lead us away from the dissonant self generally offer contrasting choices. 

Take the realization of mortality. One potential solution leads to personal growth and a sense of equanimity. The alternative path is looking for ways to drown the emerging sense of mortality. 

Depending on which path we take, a dissonant self could be our friend or a foe. The outcome of a dissonance could be a constructive or a destructive journey forward.

One path forward out of the dissonant self is introspective. It is a path along which one could try to understand the reasons for the unease within and attempt to set it right. Taking this path is challenging, but eventually, a rewarding option of self-growth.

The other path is trying to drown the feeling of dissonance.  In our age, this path is so much easier to follow. Its benign versions are spending endless hours watching TV, scrolling through media feeds, keeping up with trivialities of others on social media. Other choices are self-medications - alcohol, mind altering drugs - lead to darker alleys and are not so benign. 

Which path to take? 

The choice, of course, should be obvious but to get going and overcome initial obstacles is easier said than done.  The biggest obstacle is our tendency to follow the path of least resistance, i.e., we tend to do what requires least effort. It is easy to get sucked down the path of making the wrong choice, and after a while, it becomes too much of an effort to extricate and change courses. 

The moments of dissonance, and transitions, although discombobulating, but if handled intentionally and with care, are an opportunity for self-growth; they could become a springboard for a life enriching experience. And that too, no matter whether one is young or old.

Ciao.

Related

Choosing the path of virtue

Fading threads from my past

 

It is time again

to dust up  the keyboard, and
fold unwritten memories

wedged between 

the letters A and Z

and put them away, neatly 

in cardboard boxes

and take them to

the neighborhood 

Goodwill store.

Perhaps, there would be

a taker, or two

of fading threads

from my nondescript past.