Short Holiday Post

 June 25, 2024

I’m writing from my hotel bedroom in Phuket. We are up on a hill and the pool below looks like a tiny blue stamp, maybe a large blue stamp, but tiny blue stamp sounds so much nicer. We have a spacious terrace with great view of sea stretching to the horizon and green trees all around. It’s been cloudy since we arrived yesterday, but the sun was out this morning for a few hours, and I swam until I was tired and light-headed and sat by the pool until my body had soaked up more heat than I could bear. Before that I woke early and had a slow, one hour breakfast in a fairly empty and quiet café. 

My buzzing anxious mind hasn’t quieted yet. We decided that we were both too overwhelmed and this trip would help us find inner balance but suddenly I am a bit nervous that this trip will not help as much as I had hoped. The time here is slower than the same time in Singy but my mind is still as fast as it was there. I want it to slow but the only difference I have noticed yet is that I am more aware of the minute movements of the thoughts passing through at a million miles a second. 

The spouse seems to have slowed down quite quickly and I envy him but then perhaps he had more ‘actual’ stuff going on for him at work and otherwise, and distance from that has brought immediate relief. Yesterday after we had checked in, it began raining heavily but we pulled out umbrellas and went up the hill to the hotel club and had a few drinks. He ordered an alcoholic cocktail — normally he doesn’t drink — took a picture of the iced pink drink and sent it to the family chat. He had a smile on his face, and he looked relaxed. I on the other had was hyper and needed to walk down and up the winding path that leads to our room to tire myself further after our small meal. 

But I do notice some shift. Something within is gathering some strength from the time away. I sense the shrinking from larger, than three people, groups, and fast moving WhatsApp conversations that hurt my head, slightly altering. I feel my attention staying on the page I am reading and… no, no more ands… just that much for now. I think despite the break this is how it might be until after the longer trip to Okinawa and Kyoto end July. Sometimes that is all and expecting more is counter productive. It’s good to recognize the phase one is in even when one may not be thrilled to be there . But this break is gathering together the unravelling me to last until August.  

Ya, it’s a short post from a holiday. 

Memories and a Sense of ‘Shift’

June 18, 2024

Several things floating through my mind this sunny morning. Instead of the desk in my little room, I am in the living room today. Sunny and hot outside, but a sweet breeze and the green trees bring a real and imagined cooling effect. The dryer is rolling and whirring away. It is a happy sound. Despite only four hours of sleep and no external reason for it, I feel a lightness today. I was thinking earlier this week that my anxieties about many things have woven an invisible net that I skim above most times, but underneath which I sense joy and lightness. Glad to spontaneously slip below today. In such moments fears feel manageable. 

Arny has lingered in my mind all week. Reading posts of people sharing their memories with him brought out a few more of my own. Not just of Arny but of good times with people in the Process Work community and the close friends I’ve made there, some in Bombay that I have spent hours talking and discussing and arguing with, and some that I’ve shared living space with, and some I’ve only met through emails and zoom chats. I wanted to draw them all into a close mental embrace. 

Arny lived so deeply and meaningfully. I am eager to hear more about his life and Amy, his wife, says she is compiling stories. But his spirit and his deep dive into living and his enormous capacity for new, creative, thought, and inclusiveness stayed with me all week. I felt a renewed zest to make more meaning of the remaining days on this earth. 

I have lived parts of my life also in that way. It is the way I would like to live most of my life, but I have drifted with little purpose through others. I see childhood influences that pull me into a web of dark pessimism that often keep me from living my full potential. This here right now is one of the drifting phases and I seem sucked into a grip — of bad habits, and poor choices — that I am finding hard to break free from. But remembering Arny has given me some vigour.

            Though my desire is to slow down, the weeks remain demanding. New challenges everywhere. One in the dojo of a suddenly large class with so many different levels, and some difficult to handle kids. I dreamt two nights ago that I was teaching a class — a kata, seiyunchin, and I kept forgetting the beginning. It had slipped out of my mind completely. I would start again and again with the beginning of the next kata, sisochin, and then try to go back but all that would emerge was sisochin, and then I tried to cover up my forgetting to the class but ended up calling the kata sanseru, the next kata in the series. My first interpretation of the dream was that I needed a break from teaching. I needed to focus on my own training — which is slow because in class the teaching has got more time consuming and because of the outer thigh and hip injury that forces me to rest between training days. I do need time to repair — both my body and my poor habits that lead to ‘driftiness’, but I also need to focus on the training. I know the dream has other important meanings too.

            This morning, I woke remembering my weeks in Portland, in 2001, when I lived with Martha and her two cats. I had never met Martha, but she offered me space in her home for ten weeks. I had never lived with cats, but the moment I walked into her brightly painted empty apartment — she was away when I first arrived — ballooned up vividly in my memory. JP greeted me right away, followed me around, tried to jump into my suitcase when I opened it, and even slept with me. Grissy took her time to decide whether she liked me or not. I learnt to respect cats and love their differing and unique personalities. That tumultuous summer of deep learning and experimenting to live with an almost stranger, of shifting host-guest roles and finding a way ahead out of conflict suddenly seemed important. Martha and I, had always wanted to write about it. I think I didn’t have the skills then. I think I might now, but much memory will need to be retrieved from foggy depths. 

            Then the 2001 journey onwards and the continued experiment of guest-host shifts as I lived in three other homes before I welcomed a friend into my own Bombay home. That time was ripe with growth. 

            Yesterday I had a lively zoom chat with a friend who is an editor. We were catching up, but she was also helping me with feedback on a story I wrote. It’s good to feel ideas for writing after what felt like a long dry time. I am grateful.

            Indian politics still very ‘hectic and changing’ with BJP trying to pretend nothing has changed and opposition still in a slightly celebratory state but prepping for the future. Recently in a weird move the Lt-Gov of Delhi gave permission to prosecute Arundhati Roy for a speech she made in 2010 about Kashmir. Possibly to divert attention from things — like statements made by RSS folks and from yet another paper leak for a national exam and a terrible train accident. BJP still likes to divert from the issues and keep people guessing, and I am looking forward to the upcoming parliament session on June 24. 

A Huge Loss

 

June 11, 2024

            I shouldn’t be writing about this for Tuesday blog. I don’t have distance from it yet. I read the news on Facebook barely moments ago. Arnold Mindell, a great teacher and leader, left this plane of existence last night. 

            I shouldn’t be writing about this because I was never personally close to him, or spent much time learning from him, or in therapy with him, as so many others in this world had. I should leave the writing to them, and fb is bursting with people sharing their interactions with him. 

            I should write instead about my week and what I thought I wanted to write about before I saw this news—the end of my memoir writing class, the beginning of my confusion about what next, the moment last week when I could not let go of my high over the result of the Indian election and be in synch with a troubled friend. I could tie up my anguished narrative of the Indian election and tell you about the bit of detachment I have found once it was done. I could write about slightly improved sleep and slightly messed up gastric issues. I could write about the book I am reading and how it brought up memories of my own childhood—the wonder of well written memoirs. 

            But Arny despite my not knowing him as much as so many others knew him, left a profound imprint. One of those people who probably leaves an imprint of anyone who meets them.

            The first time I met him, in Lonavla India, was at my first Worldwork event in 1997. A new contact Anuradha had lent me his books and I had signed up for the seminar, on conflict resolution, as those book—the ideas and the language—resonated so deeply that I felt I had known them from many lifetimes. I was in the place of needing just those learnings about large group conflict, and the seminar was one of those life altering experiences the personal effects of which unfold slowly and powerfully over the following years. But I was emerging from a terrifying experience involving a psychoanalyst with the same charisma as Arny. I shied away from what I felt was a cult-figure, who could be a massive manipulator.

            I dreamt of him often after that. Each dream teaching me, and pulling me towards the process work community that I had vowed to avoid. My next meetings with Arny, in 1998 Portland, and 1999 Washington DC changed my mind about him. Arny had an adoring following, just like the psychoanalyst, whose cult I had been sucked into for a couple of years had had. But he was different. Humbler and from what I observed constantly working on himself and not allowing those idealized projections to make him bigger than normal. Though of course he was huge and influential and intelligent and supremely creative. He also had a sense of humour and even in the little contact I had with him I felt seen and encouraged to listen to the quietest of inner voices or respond to the strangest of external signals.

            I saw him again in 2001 while I was in Portland for classes, and he made time for me to have a therapy session with him, even though he was normally booked up years in advance. I went in feeling shy and wordless. I said I was lost and he said, “Tell me last night’s dream and I will tell you where you are.” And I told him not one, but two dreams, and was able to find some direction in a very confused time of my life, in a mere half hour therapy session.  
            I saw him after that at Worldwork events where each time by some magic, as there are about 300 participants, I had meaningful contact with him that gave me insights into the next steps in my journey. I continued reading his books and learning from his creative wisdom though the last time I met him in person was in 2008, at the London Worldwork. 

On the first day of every year, he opened up his special percipience and replied to hundreds, who posted their New Year dreams on his fb page. His energy and insights were a gift to thousands in our world. 

            More precious memories are popping up and I am lucky that I have time today to stay quietly with them. Slightly numbed by this shocking news. Mourning a huge loss with many across this world. 

Not Running Away!

June 4, 2024

So, I decided not to run away from the counting. Even thinking of what I will witness today creates a cringey feeling in my gut and activates acid flow. Painful. But I am not a 'runner-awayer'. I might need some time to ‘crawl into a hole and lick my wounds’ when something shocking hits me, but then I am back to whatever. 

After staying up late to watch the exit polls on Saturday night I felt agitated and couldn’t sleep. The spouse on the other hand suddenly turned off his bedside lights and fell asleep. He says that’s his reaction to stress, whereas mine keeps me up. I wish I had his reaction!

Three hours of sleep, and two black teas later, I was on the bus to karate. I missed my normal bus but walked down the corner and found another. During class, I added bag work to the lesson so I’d have a chance to blow away some of the heavy energy, but it stuck to me all the way into Monday late afternoon. I wrote to my e-mail group, the one that talks about these things, and one friend sent me a hug. I felt connected to more people like me, and it helped. I trained a bit and my energy finally released and I could look at the numbness I had slipped into. 

It was the numbness that comes from the outside saying that your gut is wrong. Of course I could have seen the ground interviews during the election phases and taken in what I wanted. But I had felt something, seen something, heard something, that had told me that the magic was broken. Last night I heard two audio-visual journalists on U-tube talk about the exit polls. Some right-wing trollers were heckling them through comments, saying how wrong they had been, and they would have to accept that people wanted Modi. They replied they were not stupid; they had been ground reporting for decades and covered many elections and they could sense a wave when it was there or know when it wasn’t. They could read the mood and they could work through their confirmation bias. I am glad they stood up for what they had intuited during their travels. I am glad they stood up for their journalistic skills. 

I also saw an organization working in Karnataka—who had done their own polls—challenge the Karnataka poll numbers, giving detailed reasons for their challenge. I watched an ex-SC lawyer, ex-IPS officer, and ex-civil servant, talk about how the Election Commission was going out of its way to make the counting process opaque and impossible to challenge. I won’t go into details though I made notes about it in my journal (possible material for a story). 

I am going to trust my gut rather than what I see. I will believe that elections are being manipulated if I see numbers that astound. I have been manipulated in the past and I know deeply what it feels like and how it confuses one, how you believe the outside, and let go of your knowing and how it splits and fragments. I will question everything, including myself, but I will trust myself too. 

If you are reading this and are similarly shocked by the exit polls or even the consequent mirroring in results trust yourself. I will write a post-election results post, whatever they may bring, sometime later in the week.

And now I will began watching the election coverage. Nervous. So much at stake. 

 

The End of Elections, and a bit about Authenticity

June 3, 2024

Finally, the Great Indian Election of 2024 is done. And on that evening itself, Sunday, the exit polls were released. A massive sweep for BJP most claimed, leaving many of us shocked. We had watched ground reports and had seen the anti-incumbency beginning to set in. Many voters were voting for themselves and not for the man-god Modi. I mean they were voting based on their own survival needs and not on helping one man-savior stay in power. Some of course were still saying that they didn’t care that they didn’t have a job for ages and that their children could survive by eating mud, but Modi needed to come back. But in every sense of ‘logic’ the BJP couldn’t better its last performance which had been a wave for Modi. 

And as I watched the exit polls some strange discrepancies were noticeable. A party, an ally of the ruling party, that had contested 5 seats was shown as winning 4-6. The BJP itself in a state that had a total of 26 seats was shown to be winning 33. Why were pollsters, some supposedly respectful, making such careless mistakes? What was the point of showing such huge sweeps? More boot licking or another grand scam about to be perpetuated on the Indian people?

I don’t know which, I mean I have an opinion but cannot prove it, but I do know that Modi magic has waned and if the party wants to retain power it will have to perform better. As I watched a discussion I saw a supposedly respected journalist moderator, Barkha Dutt, ‘scold’ a young participant of the AAP. She said that while he could say that the elections did not have a level playing field, he could not say that they were not free and fair. I honestly wondered why she was trying so hard to maintain that the election was free and fair when the behavior of the Election Commission had cast doubts on the same. I wondered, isn’t a level playing field one of the main characteristics of a free and fair election? And if it wasn’t level then it was indeed ok to claim it wasn’t free and fair and there was no need for her to scold him? 

Enough said, time to detach. There is a lot of agitation within, and I need some distance to express the nuances of what I feel. But in this time, of democracy being in threat in several places, I’d love to know your thoughts about democratic processes and if you think democracy contributes to growth or other systems are better. 

On a personal level it’s been a marathon week. Busy, more busy, and busiest. 

In the tiny pockets of inner slowing, which mostly came on buses going from one place to the other, one of the things I’ve been thinking of has been authenticity, what it is and how to recognize it. Is it some innate essence in us that we all possess, and we can discover by a deep dive within, and by whose guidance we can live once we find it? Or is there no such core essence and we are constantly a work in progress, seeking, finding, and re-creating ourselves before doing the same all over again? 

I guess I was thinking of the things in my life that once felt ‘not me’ and became ‘me’ and some others that I didn’t ever identify with, but which others pointed out about me. I was also thinking of why I gravitate and pick out certain people because I find them authentic. It is not about them being interesting, or nice, or brave, or anything, but it is about a sense that they are not phony. But labelling someone phony is a judgement and maybe that stops me from seeing who they are. 

Whatever it is I often trust a gut feel I have about something, about people, and use that to decide who I hang out with. Maybe this has come with experiences—both good and painful? 

But I am also making choices and then realizing a few days or even hours later that I ignored a feeling in my gut and made a choice that I regret. And then it is time to reflect on what made me ignore that gut sense. 

So me, ya, I don’t think I have an innate essence that is who I am, but I am continuously a WIP, always seeking and discovering. I know this quality in me has confused some people when they suddenly, impulsively, see me change from a strong position to another. They have wondered if they can trust me. But often the same people later have said that this decision to change also was part of my process of trying to live an authentic life.

I made a choice two years ago to stay with one part of my karate organization when it split into two. A lot of my favorite teachers made the choice to be on the other side. My choice was dictated by practical considerations for the Singapore dojo in the first year. I didn’t know if the new organization would survive, and our tiny dojo needed stability. 

The new organization survived well but in the first year I saw people in it doing things that I could not identify with. These involved public shaming of the head of our organization, more than once. As this negativity, this inability to move on, went on and on it felt this toxic. It went against everything I believed what the spirit of being a practitioner of traditional martial arts is. Today I am glad I made the choice I did and though I do see respected friends and teachers in the other organization I would not be happy being a part of it. I am glad and grateful that many in our little dojo have chosen to trust my choice. 

That’s all for this week. I need to get this out today rather than tomorrow as tomorrow is counting day and I am unsure that I want to be ‘internet’ connected. Maybe I am running away, and I don’t know why but I feel shamed by this possible wave victory of a hate-mongering and corrupt party. 

Would love to hear your thoughts about authenticity and how you make choices or hear of a difficult choice you made that you regretted or were happy with.