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.