If only the inertia was not there

 

The inertia of the mind urges it to slide down the easy slope of imagination, rather than to climb the steep slope of introspection. Marcel Proust

Arun Kumar

Inertia: a property of matter following which a body remains at rest or in uniform motion unless acted upon by some external force.

In the physical realm of material objects, it is hard to start moving from the position of rest. Similarly, when moving, objects prefer to keep, well, just moving.

This tendency of material objects is encapsulated as Newton’s first law of motion. Bringing any change requires a force that is exerted by something external to the object.

In life a similar law of inertia also plays out. Although the premise is not material objects but our psychological dimensions, the concept is the same. It is hard to deviate from the status quo.

It is not easy to get started on new activities (and turn them into habits), or once habits are in place, a conscious effort is required to make a change.

I witnessed this tendency again recently in a habit I picked up, and now I am having a challenging time breaking out of it.

The habit has to do with taking vitamin B-complex supplements.

The reason I got started down this road is the strange affliction of dermatographia I have been struggling with for about one year. I have no clue what triggered it. It is nothing life threatening but is affecting quality of life as a minor incidence of scratching can devolve into intense episodes of itching that leave me exhausted and panting.

Another fall out is that the symptoms exacerbate in the night and wake me up a couple of times, and thereby, have been interrupting sleep.

Not knowing the cause behind it, the mind naturally goes exploring in different directions and brings up different hypotheses for possible attribution. Perhaps, mind wonders, it is a manifestation of something else more serious out of whack in the body that I do not yet know about. Perhaps it is a sign of some nutrient deficiency like lack of some amino acid or vitamin in my diet.

If it is the deficiency of some vitamin, the mind argues, why not throw the kitchen sink at it and take vitamin B-complex. In doing so, perhaps something will click, and the ailment will be cured.

That is how I got started down the path of starting to take the vitamin B-complex, and now I am finding it hard to get out of the a habit it has become.

There are a myriad of reasons for not being able to change the status quo and stop taking B-complex. The reasons are embedded in strange twists and turns of human psychology.

After a couple of months of being on the regimen, I am not quite sure it has helped or not, but when I think about stopping, a thought creeps in and says what if the “positive” influence of pill is subtle and if you stop you will slide back.

The argument hints to the psychological fear of missing out (FOMO). I am not sure what positive effect the B-complex is having but if it has, stopping is only going to have an adverse impact.

Mixed with FOMO, and a closely related psychological factor is the fear of regression.

There is a thought that says that discontinuing the supplement will result in a return to my previous health problem. Mind you, I am not quite sure if the problem has gone away, but by stopping I do not want to disturb the balance of the universe and take two steps back.

The other obvious culprit is psychological inertia. After two months, taking a supplement has become a daily habit and now is part of my morning routine going through which feels comforting.

Breaking habits, even those with uncertain benefits, is a challenge due to some deep-seated psychological aspects — FOMO, fear of regression, and a tendency to maintain status quo.

Why try to fix something that is not broken?

So, for now, following the law of (psychological) inertia I continue to take a pill of B-complex each morning.

Perhaps what I should do is to start taking it on alternate days, and if nothing feels different then after a while, take it every three days. After a while perhaps I will forget to take the pill once in a while and one day, I will just stop.

From that day on, if nothing else, then I will save some hard-earned money.

Ciao.

Paradox of living

 

Life is a preparation for the future; and the best preparation for the future is to live as if there were none — Albert Einstein

Arun Kumar

 When looking: 
 Eyes can only see 
 The colors of the rainbow,
 The shapes of the clouds,
 The objects of the world.
 Only when they are close,
 The extent of space and time 
 Becomes apparent.
 
 It is the paradox of 
 What is seen is limited.
 
 When listening: 
 Ears can only hear 
 The sounds of the wind,
 The noises of the street,
 The voices of the people.
 Only when they are covered,
 The whisperings of unknown 
 Become audible.
 
 It is the paradox of 
 What is heard is limited.
 
 When perceiving: 
 The mind can only learn, 
 What is already known.
 Only when it is empty, 
 The possibilities of what is beyond
 Become discernible.
 
 It is the paradox of 
 What is learned is limited.

Internalizing Mortality (2)

 

Arun Kumar

1. Introduction

The internalization of mortality, the recognition and acceptance of our finite existence, has the power to transform our lives in profound ways.

Before internalizing mortality, life is characterized by a sense of invincibility and the pursuit of transient pleasures. However, after this existential awakening, we often experience a shift in priorities, values, and perspectives, embracing life with a newfound sense of purpose, gratitude, and wisdom.

In this following, some aspects of contrasts between life before and after the internalization of mortality are highlighted.

2. Life before the Internalization of Mortality

Before individuals internalize their mortality, they may lead lives characterized by certain common themes:

1. Invincibility and Risk-Taking: The perception of invincibility often prevails at the young age when getting old and dying is something that happens to others, leading to risk-taking behavior. The consequences may seem distant, and life becomes a daring adventure.

2. Superficial Pursuits: Pursuits may lean toward superficial, materialistic, and hedonistic goals, such as the relentless pursuit of wealth, fame, and momentary pleasures.

3. Time Mismanagement: Time is often squandered on trivial or unfulfilling activities, and individuals may procrastinate when it comes to addressing what truly matters to them.

4. Neglect of Relationships: Meaningful relationships may take a back seat, as the focus on individual pursuits overshadows the importance of nurturing connections with loved ones.

5. Fear of Aging and Mortality: Youth and vitality are prized, and aging is often feared. The concept of mortality may be pushed to the periphery of one’s consciousness.

3. Life After the Internalization of Mortality

The internalization of mortality reshapes the way we perceive and live our lives:

1. Prioritizing Meaningful Experiences: Life takes on new meaning as individuals prioritize meaningful experiences over superficial pleasures. Time becomes a precious resource, motivating the pursuit of fulfilling and enriching moments.

2. Embracing the Present: The past is accepted, and the future, no longer taken for granted, driving a renewed focus on living in the present moment. Every day is seen as an opportunity to make the most of life.

3. Search for Meaning and Purpose: The recognition of mortality inspires a quest for meaning and purpose, leading individuals to explore their passions, values, and contributions to the world.

4. Deepening Relationships: The importance of relationships becomes paramount. Time spent with loved ones is cherished, and there is a greater commitment to nurturing and building strong connections.

5. Reduced Fear and Anxiety: Internalizing mortality can lead to a reduction in fear and anxiety. With the knowledge that life is finite, individuals find greater resilience in facing life’s challenges and confronting the unknown.

6. Reflection and Self-Improvement: Self-reflection becomes a regular practice, fostering self-improvement, self-awareness, and personal growth. There is a desire to become a better version of oneself.

7. Legacy and Contribution: People seek to make a lasting impact on the world, leaving a meaningful legacy through their actions and contributions. This is motivated by a desire to be remembered for positive, lasting deeds.

8. Spirituality and Philosophy: Many individuals turn to spirituality or philosophy as a means of grappling with the concept of mortality, finding solace and guidance in different belief systems or building their own.

Conclusion

The internalization of mortality is a profound awakening that can dramatically alter the trajectory of one’s life.

Life before this realization is often characterized by superficial pursuits. In contrast, life after the internalization of mortality embraces the present, prioritizes meaningful experiences, and seeks to make a positive impact on the world.

Life after the internalization of mortality becomes a journey of self-discovery, personal growth, and a deepening connection to the essence of life itself.

While the acknowledgment of mortality may at first seem disorienting, it can ultimately lead to a life lived with purpose, authenticity, and an appreciation for having a golden croissant in the morning.

The internalization of mortality makes one humble and urges us to let go of the physical and psychological baggage that we habitually carry.

Ciao.

Internalizing Mortality

 

Arun Kumar

Northern hemisphere and it is the month of October.

The place where I live at about 30o N, October is the month of transition from summer to winter. There is chill in the air and even if there were no calendars to look at, there are enough signs all around that changes are happening. Buddhist followers would say not to be surprised because impermanence is a fundamental tenet in the universe. And for a good measure they would have also added that clinging to things and wishing them not to change is an invitation to suffering.

But philosophy aside, October and autumn are wonderful times of year when the soul wants to transition into a few months of introspection. And of course, there will be no more yard work to do — cut the grass, weed the flower bed, protect the tomatoes vines from cutworms.

When October arrives, the Sun no longer stays so high in the sky and leaves are changing color. By 7pm it is dark outside, but inside, it feels like we are inside a cocoon and feeling safe and warm.

October is a lovely time of transition that connects summer and winter. Going through the transition there are gentle tides of emotions within that feel delightful and nostalgic.

One nostalgia is about my childhood days growing up India. October would have been the time to bring out the quilts for their storage and put them under the sun to get the smell of mustiness slowly evaporate in the air. I can see myself burying my face in the warmth of those quilts to take in musty aroma and feel the vague nostalgia of the passage of time. Then I did not know what those emotions meant but they felt like there is a place somewhere in which days pass slowly under a crisp blue sky and winds bring the sounds of someone playing flute at a distance..

The fact is that going from summer to winter is a time for and remembrance of transitions.

With the notion of transition, I am reminded of two modes of living I have been through. What separated them was the awareness and internalization of mortality.

Before that transition mortality was just a passing thought, a meh that happened to others and was none of my concern.

In life after the internalization of mortality there was an awareness that I share the same fate as everything around me; my time, my days are also numbered.

The internalization of mortality brought changes in perspective on how I view the world, what I strive for and why, what does the passage of time means.

The internalization of mortality was like looking at the world with different glasses. It was like going to an optometrist and a new prescription glass gets fitted, and when you walk out of the front door, the world holds a crispness that you were not aware existed.

The footprints change in perspective were evident during the recent example of my recent visit to Milan.

While there, I did desire to rush and strive and to visit every Duomo or Piazza that were listed in the travel guide. There was a sense of realization that within the city there are so many monuments, nooks, and crannies that have an equally long history but there will never be enough time to see them all.

Heck, in the place I have been living for the past 30 years we have not yet visited places that tourists come to see.

Instead, it was much more pleasurable to go around at a leisurely pace seeing what one can, and then take a break to have a nice long lunch or dinner, or a cup of coffee with a fluffy buttery croissant.

That golden croissant would be remembered for a long time. What would not be remembered is flashes of camera and ending up with five hundred pictures that I would not ever have time to look through again.

The internalization of mortality, paradoxically, lets the pace of life slow down. The realization that time is finite does not result in a mad rush to try to do everything or checking every box from the bucket list. Instead, it urges to be mindful of the quality time spent on checking of a few boxes that one can.

The internalization of mortality should be the motto for the slow life movement. It is the proverbial suggestion to slow down and appreciate life. Now I also have an urge to also type slowly and be thoughtful before the tips of my fingers hit the keyboard.

Soon it will be winter. A time for introspection. However, by the end of January I would be dreaming about going to some tropical island. I would be dreaming about spring and summer and freedom of stepping out on the back porch again. With patience, winter will slowly roll over into summer.

But not so with the transition that the internalization of mortality brings. It is a one-way journey. Once the mortality sets in there is no going back. I don’t even want it to happen. Life afterwards is more mindful, humble, and expansive.

Ciao.