Daily journaling

At work. Have work to do and complete. I will do it.

Waiting for my OTG. I want to with discipline get down to baking and master 1 cake, 1 bread , and 1 cookie. Kaizen. Just one thing perfectly.

Reading news sites and listening to an Oprah super soul podcast with Pema Chodron.

Read a news article that made me go hmm...

https://www.ndtv.com/offbeat/a-daredevil-died-doing-pullups-off-a-skyscraper-in-china-1786640?pfrom=home-topstories

About a young 26 year old chinese man, who performed dare devil stunts. On this stunt where he is hanging from the rooftop edge of a high-rise, doing pull ups. three pull ups and the 4th one he slips and fell to his death.

I wonder what he felt. was he really focused and confident like on all other days when he cheated death? or did he have a signal from his gut that told him 'stop' and he did not listen. 

Was he conscious through his fall and impact and painful death? or did he zone out and get out of his body.

I wonder.

The funny thing about life; when one can't figure out life in youth, one just wants time to pass till one can grow old enough, so that people can stop telling you what you can be, what potential you are wasting and yada yada yada.

And then one day you realize you do know what you want and why and Youth's passed you by. You feel out of place because the stage is always more welcoming of the youth when they are trying. The young are allowed to blunder...to yearn ..to be brazen and overconfident. Their failures are amusing and cute. Try the same things when you are older and you become a laughing stock.

Youth is also a very integral part of desire. There is no desire when you start aging. Youth has a suppleness and glow. The elephant skin of old age is hardly the canvas for yearning and love and lust and color and glow.

It's such a conundrum. I don't know if there is another birth. But if there is, I want to learn everything now so that I am super confident in my next birth.

is there a next birth? If yes..then how do we know for sure.

If we are all but clay...we can be broken and reshaped. But does burnt clay ever like new clay?

Is there even a soul. Or are we just a memory box thinking we are conscious and have souls. However we do grow. Like trees. Don't we.


I am sounding distinctly unintellectual. I must get to my work. When will I be busy and have a large busy network of friends so that I stop feeling that I am a failure in society and the world and don't fit in anywhere.

I never feel confident. I am tired of pretending. It's hard because showing your vulnerability all the time is a certified death sentence. Have to have some defences up. Have to have an immune system.

I wish I could fearlessly travel all of India. But I fear. I could get raped, mugged and murdered. Could I afford it. If I meet conmen and cheats along the way..I lack the ability to laugh it off. it spoils my entire day.

A house seems to be the safer cocoon. Only sometimes it does get boring. And I know between boring and risk....I always choose boring. I am totally unsure I can handle challenges with flair and dignity. Reliving how I survived tough situations is sometimes just as traumatic as having experienced the situation.

And I have a strong mental notion of what is good. When I went out into the world without mental notions...as a empty slate...I had traumatic experiences several times. Obviously not all the time, because i have had a nice good life with kind people all along...but kindness..just general kindness one takes for granted. Like a nice day or a good weather. One forgets that it is magical and to be thankful for it.

I don't know why I am so fundamentally unsure and unconfident.

I can isolate myself in my misery. When I don't get attention I can feel rejected. I don't want to hang around a group that seems to get it with each other. I never do. i always feel I am missing some hidden sign language. Some sub text when I am in the room. Others know what is going on and I don't.

Always.

It's tough. My mind defeats me. My mind should make me win too right. The same door I feel through..has another side. The same door.

random musings

Had a thought. By the time I opened this space..it's swum away.


dang it. What was it......this is scary. I am like a goldfish now. ok..let's keep this page open. It might swim back into my view.

Have to send a card for S. She is turning 9!

Yest someone asked me, and almost every one asks it in the most genuinely natural manner "Why did you not settle abroad as you had the opportunity".

I always am at a loss to explain my brain does not work that way. I never figured out how to. And I have tried telling them but NO ONE EVER believes me. So now I have formulated the answer I feel is the most easy to be accepted. And people nod in understanding and drop the topic.

And it's not a lie either. It's certainly true feelings of mine..ONLY it is not the reason why I did not settle abroad. I just had no opportunity that I could see was clearly an option.

People refuse to believe that! So I tell them..I never tried hard really because I felt it was too lonely in the west for a single girl. I prefer being close to my parents who are happy being here. AND all of that is true enough.

The part they don't believe, but which is more pertinently true, is I did not see any way for it to happen. I did not go there to study. I am still confused whether I can bear the politics and harsh judgemental dynamics of a school where you need to appear cool else someone is giving you hell.

I just never could figure out how to be cool. The cool factor terrifies me. It is like that maths problem I know I can never solve. While those who can, ask you useless questions like why can't you solve it? It's so easy? If I knew why I can't, I would have solved it people! Oh the irony.

And I was never great at my job where a magical, career path with possibilities is open to me. I am as OK as many and just chugging along. I never figure out how to get ahead in a queue from amongst a group of people.

Let's go back to my childhood. I was the kid in the playground always lost. Never able to understand whether anyone was playing with me, or was I running along with a bunch who were playing their own game. I ALWAYS felt like that. I often would sit alone, or under a tree or on a swing...until a bunch of them would come and ask me to play and I would go along with quivering hope..only to shortly start feeling lost and clueless and unseen again.

The play ground at best confused me and at worst scared me. BUT I always...100% of the time as far as I can recall, felt I was in the wrong place and did not belong. sitting in the sidelines and watching other kids play, wishing you could be as cool and confident and self assured does not help in personality development or inner Joy. No.


Oh yeah another thought I had in the morning, which I just felt is a true insight:

Thinking is a dead thing. It must have originated from a cave or a grave.
A man, even a being in real nature, cannot afford to 'think'. You will be dead on your feet if you stood thinking. Nature will engage you. And you must follow. Run when you have to. sleep when you have to. Eat when you have to. Sex when you have to. BUT thinking is twisted. Thinking looks sideways at what it wants and goes around in circles pretending to go away while coming at it.
Thinking tells desire and instinct it is crude to be direct and you must build complicated codes and reasons to get what you want. You must deserve it. Wanting is not deserving until there is a reason you are entitled to get what you want. This desire to find a reason other than natural desire...is the working of death. Life lives. Death pretends to live.

It is always so. But Death and thought are so cunning they even make you believe you breathe because you think!

I wonder if this is making sense...I mean I am not able to really articulate it and illustrate with examples. But it is true in this much. Thinking is a dead activity.

Shivji fascinates me. His meditation signifying, the universe thinking is always in a graveyard or cremation ground! always.

Shivji is most beautiful and alive when he dances. And he dances to his own beats. The music is made with the rhythm of his dance.

Unlike Music. I wonder if Music is as alive as dance is. People can be moved by music, without being fully engaged. They could be shelling peas while listening to music or even singing.

But when you really dance, you just dance. And if you are watching a dance, you can only breathe. Doing anything else while watching dance and you will miss something. same for when you are dancing. You have to be there. Fully present. No half in and half out. That is why to me, dance is superior.

Reading Drew Barrymore's personal essays in "Wildflower"

After a looooong time...excited to read something good and real.

will update this post.

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12/1/2017:

I totally loved reading it. Have not finished reading it yet. Like all books I really love, I am now reading it slowly and with breaks so that it does not end so quickly! Because it will. It is a small book. Readable conversational dialog with one self or a intimate candid tete' a tat with someone pleasant.so good.