Higher Purpose

They said it would be hard. They were right. Your first path into this World was unexpected.

They said it would be difficult without our village around. They were right. It was just the 3 of us, and sometimes just the 2 of us. We spent many days negotiating showers, toilet breaks, and meals.

They said I could lose myself. They were right. There were times when I couldn’t understand how or why I felt so exhausted mentally, even more so than the physical recovery of it all.

They also said that there would be immeasurable love. There is.

It has crept up on us without me even realising. You are an inseparable part of me. I now do not know where I begin and you end.

The pride I feel in calling you my son, the contentment I feel in watching you from afar discovering the World, the secret language you speak when you look or exclaim at us, the glow of your smiles and laughter which I could listen to on repeat until the end of my days.

I think back to that room. The anxiety. The inability to switch off to Aladdin or the Lion King for even 5 minutes because of the fear of not letting anything slip to make sure you were protected every second. I wish I could tell that young woman that it would all be ok. I wish I could give her a glimpse of the moments above. I wish I could tell her that God was always on our side.

I am on a journey. I know the purpose of the journey. I do not know what I will face along the path. I do not know what the destination looks like.

So how do I prepare for something that I know will turn life upside down? Will over preparing disappoint me when my expectations don’t match reality? Will underpreparing result in regret?

This is clearly a “known unknown”, so all I tell myself to remember is faith. Have faith that I will find my way, just like I have a thousand times before.

Faith that when the going gets tough, I dig deep and find that resilience that has always propelled me forward.

Faith that I will never give up no matter what life throws at me.

Faith that I am loved, guided and protected.

We want to create so that we can help another part of our being understand who / why / what they are, so that it realises it is made from true love and that its purpose is to give and experience love, joy and compassion.  

In giving and experiencing these things, it (and we) bring light into the World.  We guide other parts of ourselves (”other” people) through our belief in and expressions of love; we distance ourselves from “other” people through our fear.  When we stray from what we fundamentally are, we see and feel darkness.  

Creation stems from love, and the closer we remain to that ultimate kernel of wisdom, the closer we are to God / the Universe / the Higher Power.

A lot of people say that the World = suffering.  The World is actually what we as a collective make of it.  The more that we can create from love, the less suffering there is.  In creating from love, we find the light within us and around us, and we remember why we exist.  

The more we can do to promote this understanding in ourselves and in the things we create, the closer our collective consciousness gets to understanding itself.

In creating another (the “other” is actually part of us), our first achievement is creation through love and it is supported by a grand design.  We can’t miss it - our biochemistry actually works in our favour to support a love beyond our wildest imagination.  

I am a dreamer, an idealist. I am guided according to what ought to be, not what is. It drives an internal perfectionism that is hard to shake. I have decided now that I won’t let myself be any other way.

For a few years, around the time of starting this blog really, I tried to live according to what “is”. Dismantling parts of myself, questioning my approach. Letting myself be guided by the tide, rather than navigating the waves. I accepted things just because “that’s the way they are”. Dissatisfaction grew. I felt heavy and burned out in believing the narrative that people’s insecurities and selfish motivations were a way of life. Letting myself become cynical in the process.

I complained about what was not there, what people were doing, not doing, saying or not saying. I felt like the Universe greeted me with a shoulder shrug, and a New York style “hey, that’s life kid” when times got tough.

Then a switch flicked. Worn down by my own internal narrative, I decided I would take control. For so long I felt my efforts kept being sidelined, I had lost confidence in getting up again or trying.

But I remembered what I stand for: my close relationships, honesty, integrity, respect, kindness, improving and advancing myself intellectually and physically, quiet, peaceful and comfortable living. And as long as I am in tune whether my actions and thoughts aligned with these, I would always be in control. Anything else felt wrong.

Sure, I could look around at others and see what they were doing and try and figure out why they were doing it. But it would never give me any happiness, or further insight. I never followed the crowd, so why would I start now.

Now, I vow I will stop getting sucked into what I saw previously as “growing up” but what was in fact not true to myself. I would not second guess who I am, not caveat my strengths, not create narratives for others’ actions and behaviours until and unless I have (unambiguous) incontrovertible first-hand explanations for those. I would just allow myself to live feeling free and unshackled.

And I learned.

There is no right way of dealing with it. 

The tide of emotion came crashing when I knew it was going to happen, but after the event, I was left with a dull, heavy ache.  Like the day surveying the damage after a heavy storm.  No screams, no wails, no shouting.  

A dull ache permeating the depths of my being, realising that I would not hear or see that unconditional, pure and special love she had for me again.

And then he said to me: “She lives in you.  She runs through your veins.  You are part of her, and she you”.  

It took a while for that to sink in.  

And when it did, I believed again.  More strongly that I have done in the recent past, I believed that we are not alone.  We are never alone.  All those scenes in movies about meeting your ancestors made sense (think Simba looking into the sky for Mufasa) .  

She was on a journey, and she would be watching over us.  At some point, we would meet again.

She gave me strength.  She allowed me to feel her presence when I needed it the most.  

I know you’re there, and that you are proud of us. You saw what you needed to see.

In truth, your suffering was not worth my selfish desires to hear your voice, to see you smile, to have you take in our scents when we hugged you, to tell you not to cry very time we bought you a gift, to watch you make sure I got the potatoes and Arjav got the cheesy bit of the pasta bake.

Its your time to move on to your higher purpose.   I’ll keep you posted on our progress when I speak to you in my dreams.  

Too much about what other people think and feel.

I read this Rupi Kaur poem recently, about “Responsibility”, and how we blame others for what we should have done for ourselves. That was just one huge Amen from me.

Sometimes I lash out because I feel other people’s feelings and expectations as if they were my own. When harnessed I’ve seen it work as a special gift that helps me to connect with people; when untempered, thoughts of people who I care about affect the tide of my own emotion.

The first time I realised I had this gift was when I could not have been more than 4 years old. My cousin and I were playing at a friends house. She got hurt, and like 4 year olds do, started crying. I remember watching her pain, and then crying myself, followed by an adult consoling me with a fizzy drink (oh the 90s!).

As I write this, I like thinking of it as a “gift”. It’s so easy for people to criticise caring too much, forgetting that to care too much, first requires being able to care about something more than your own selfish needs. A gift I say.

The bit that needs tempering is “too much”, where people’s hang ups in life ruin yours, to the point of allowing someone else’s actions pave the spiral staircase of your emotion.

Remember that neglecting yourself is as bad as neglecting someone you really care about. Because truly, when all is said and done, you have to thank yourself for the positive energy in your life.

It’s true no (wo)man is an island, but you are your own confidante, advisor, comforter, force of nature.

Perplexed by human behaviour, I ask myself daily - "why am I doing this?", "why are they behaving like that?", "how can I predict their reaction?" etc.

I know I can be an "all or nothing" personality.  Mostly spinning fifty different plates, sometimes unable to even lift one.  

So today, having thought and thought and thought, about several things - and nothing in particular, I decided to recite a mantra of acceptance to myself.  Sometimes "it just is".  And the best thing to do is to roll with the punches.  

One of the best lines that I have read is that, to most people, you are an "extra” in a play of their own lives in which they are the protagonist.  There is nothing cynical about that.  People are mostly too occupied with dealing with their own lives to focus on the minutiae of yours.  Which means that when you might wonder about how you are perceived, don’t focus on the compliments and the feedback as markers of your worth.

Perceptions are generally skewed, and self-focused.  Broad perceptions from a third party can often be helpful: if one person provides an insight into how they perceive you, it gives you a little insight into that person and their perspective.  Such feedback from others is of course important and indispensable, for example, when you are trying to develop a technical skill, or improve on something specific.  But let that feedback guide you, not define you.  

Your best bet is always yourself, and your gut.  And its not easy.  It’s not easy to look yourself in the eye and admit when you are wrong, or to sometimes stand by yourself when making a difficult judgment.  But remember: you have absolutely everything within you.   

Some day, you might find yourself wondering: “what’s the point?”.  Why try to be nice, why work so hard, why do anything?  This internal dialogue can go on for hours, and you can justify any action to yourself on the basis that whatever you do seems to be inconsequential.  

But then you do that action, that small thing that seems insignificant but is a little out of character, a little less thought through then usual, and then you bat it out of your mind, sweep it under the carpet and hope that it goes away.  Until you have a quiet moment to yourself, and that “thing” pops up again - “why did I do that?”.

What I am saying to you is this: it is normal to question your values, re-question them, dig them up, and re-plant them and then reinforce them.  Life does not come with a manual.  I wish I could protect you from the doubt, but I know that it will only make you grow into a stronger and better person.

I want to reassure you that whatever you do, you will always come back to certain truths and values.  Those are your compass, your guiding light.  I can’t prescribe these to you, but you know intrinsically what they are.  And know that when you live by those truths, you feel a quiet peace: a sort of comfortable hum of contentment.

One day, you might want a little reminder of how much you are loved, and to remember what it means to be you.  I hope that this series of letters can serve as a guiding light, whenever you are away from home, and might feel a little bit lost, worried, or just need some inspiration.

I reflect on the evolution of my thoughts.  

Three years ago, I started to write to document practical thoughts.  At that time, I felt troubled by not having a well-defined path to career success.  I was at the embryonic stages of a new role, and struggling to find my place in a factory of elite professionals.  

Put simply, 3 years ago I questioned how people found their determination in life. 3 years later, I have mustered more resilience, more determination and more grit than I ever thought I had within me.  I am now comfortable in the thought that these qualities have never left my side.  So what's left?

Now I write to appease the echoes of my mind.  To soothe the crashing waves of thought that so often become all-consuming. Whilst so doing, I have had the chance to acquaint myself with my best friend and worst enemy - the mind.  I could write a treatise on its workings - or more accurately, on how I think it works.  But this post isn't about that.

This post is about an adage that has resonated with me a lot recently: "know thyself".  Whilst anyone with whom I have shared my writing will likely regard it as introspective (it undoubtedly is), what I hope my streams of consciousness might trigger in others is (i) self-reflection and (ii) a desire to find meaning and purpose.  "Know thyself" is an incarnation of that hope.

Know thyself is about taking stock of who you are and what you want from life.  

So what do I want?

For my skills to serve a "macro" purpose in the World.  Whether as a lawyer, or something else, it is important that my work has meaning to society.  I have always been so focused on building a successful career - but to what end?  No doubt financial contentment is important.  But if it was the "be all and end all", I would not feel the tugs that I do now.  To improve, to progress, to rise to a position to effect positive change.  

I am thinking of ways in which I can achieve those ends.  As I do this, I am mindful of my tendency to doubt. But I am also now mindful of the power of my instincts.  For unknowingly (and now by knowing myself), these have propelled me on the journey so far.  

It isn’t fighting battles.  It isn’t imposing authority.  It isn’t masking emotion.  It isn’t winning.

It is the voice within that helps you up, dusts you off and sets you back on your path.  It is the voice of compassion.  It is your counsel, your compass.

It is not given to you; you cannot acquire it.  It is the very fabric of your being. Sometimes hidden, sometimes abundant.

What does it mean to do the "right" thing?

Without straying into philosophical interpretations of righteousness, I would like to attempt to explain my instinct on the topic:

For me, doing the right thing usually equates to following the path that makes others happy.

There is no better feeling than to make somebody smile or feel happier as a result of your actions - particularly when you care about that person.

Recently, this approach has led to some internal conflict:

1) Can you do the right thing and hurt someone at the same time?  

Probably, yes.  Sometimes the truth hurts.    A simple example is when I have been asked to give an honest opinion which has not been well-received.

Just as I am almost addicted to the feeling of making someone happy, I am hurt if someone is upset because of something I have said or done.

I wrestle internally trying to reconcile the hurt I have caused with my perceived "righteousness" of action.

The answer to this is not clear cut.  But I think it might be this: if you believe a "truth" so strongly - and it is worth delivering that truth to try and help someone - stick to your conviction.  Explain why it is your perceived truth.  If the recipient understands your intentions and character, their disappointment will subside.  

The challenge here is to judge: a) when your truth is grounded in sufficient reason and good intention; and b) whether the recipient trusts you enough to provide a valued, considered opinion.

2) Following my approach, is it possible to be truly selfless in your quest to make others happy?

When I was younger, I used to feel disappointed if people were inconsiderate towards me after I thought had gone out of my way for them. For a long time, I thought that this was a legitimate way of thinking. 

Now I realise (or think I realise), that true goodness is an end in itself - if you have chosen to invest time and energy into someone, your returns should derive solely from their happiness.

A while back, I was reminded that “to love and be loved” is the greatest of gifts.  I agree, but not because love is the euphoric, star-crossed concept that it is often portrayed to be.  I believe that - like a balm - love soothes the often painful question of our existence.

Put simply, we all question our purpose.  What is our place in the Universe? Absent the descent of a messiah or an incontrovertible proof, we cannot answer this question objectively.  Love provides a subjective truth that we can accept as a reason for our existence.

To me, love is understanding.  In pursuit of love, we seek commonality, shared values, outlook and backgrounds.  In consequence, we align ourselves with those that truly understand who we are - but more importantly - accept us for who we are not.

So when we are misunderstood, our minds follow the breadcrumb trail back to our unanswered question: what is my purpose?  At these points, the people that love us remind us (explicitly or implicitly) of why we matter.  A laugh and a smile later, we carry on with life as normal.  Somewhat cynically, I feel that there is a dangerous dependency to this approach.

First, it inhibits our ability to love selflessly.  In my view, the purest form of love is selfless.  To love and to expect nothing in return is a virtue.  By relying on another to validate one’s existence, we lose sight of love as an end in itself.  If we love truly, we should want to bring happiness to the object(s) of our affections, regardless of the returns.

Second, it masks our need for spiritual development.  Harsh as it may seem, we are born alone, we die alone.  I think that we need to find a reason for our existence that does not depend upon others.  Introspection and meditation help to build an impervious path towards finding that reason.  Validation from loved ones is just a type of Superglue.