Day 18: Shelled

Today's been a busy and challenging day. I managed to step out and be in crowded areas with people. Yes, this does sound silly and you're probably thinking, What? She has trouble being around people now? I mean, she could sing on stage in front of a 100 or more people and roar with laughter in a pub. So what's this new agoraphobic behaviour?

I don't know what to tell you, except it's new and likely to be temporary. I haven't exposed myself so much to even my loved ones and it's very exhausting -- talking about my feelings, emoting, crying, feeling conflicted in what to share and what to censor, who to confide in and who to smile at. It's extremely tiring. And now that I've gotten used to this with a small handful of people, an entire crowd feels like being caught inside a cave with no air. Worse still, I feel so exposed it's like I'm a tortoise whose shell has been ripped off. I've nowhere to hide, take shelter in, I can't scurry away into a corner and I have to wait until the scars heal, bleeding for all the world to see. This would be one of my worst night mares, being seen, being heard, being watched while I bleed my heart out.

But here we are. So I made an effort to visit my sister's today, without my mother. I was nervous and almost turned around when I was on my way, but I gave myself the option to leave if I was self-conscious and uncomfortable. I knew that my sisters would understand and that gave me courage. So I went and met them. And I had a good time. We laughed at each other, at ourselves, at being women in our thirties with tired ovaries,  at being human. It felt good. I'm glad I was bold enough to break away from my cocoon today. I also feel fortified in knowing I am protected and sheltered by my loved ones. They may never replace the home that shell had been, but they've created something special that makes me feel safe.

The climb is harder, as layers peel away, and my resolve gets stronger. My skin and heart are raw, but I'm beginning to believe they will heal and be thicker and stronger soon. Sometimes I long for companionship. For a fellow seeker to climb with me and tell me what his view is like from where he's standing. At other times, I want to be still and quiet, and not exchange a single word or sound with anyone.

I pray for balance. I pray for forgiveness, from the Universe and from myself. This is hard. But I'll keep trying. Making an effort is all we can really do.

May not have a shell anymore,
but by God,
I shall have this mask. 

Now listening to: "Orange Sky" by Alexi Murdoch
https://youtu.be/4FL7c7zcpvA

Day 6: Kiri-kiri

Today was a very busy and eventful day. And I was looking forward to writing about it tonight. But after a long time, I had a massive breakdown in my bedroom. 

I couldn't hold it in any longer, and screamed and sobbed my heart out into a pillow, while my mother sat next to me. All the anger, hurt, frustration, fear, sadness and pain just tumbled out without warning. It felt like the earth was shaking beneath me, and I was caught in a hurricane. All the feelings I was trying to distract myself from, suppress or rationalise in the hope of being a 'better human being', just raced out of my throat and into the universe. It was a cry from so deep within me, what came out felt like it made straight for the core of the earth, if you can imagine it. My mother let me vent. She believes it's better to let it out than keep it inside. I sobbed for every ache in my body, my heart and my soul. I cried like a child and begged my mother to never leave me, never die on me, never stop loving me (all the things a child is afraid of). In those 15 minutes, I became a 4 year old and she held me so tight, I felt like I was glued to her. It was the most secure feeling I have felt in a very long time. 

When I calmed down, I lay my head in her lap and sniffled. She ran her fingers gently up and down my back. This is something she used to do to me and my brother when we were kids. It's strangely soothing and relaxing and even though I'm easily tickled, this makes me feel light and sleepy. She calls it, 'kiri-kiri'. I feel blank now. 

So tonight, I've composed a tune on the ukulele I bought earlier today. It's the music that plays in my head when my mother runs her fingers up and down my back. My first time on a ukelele. Happy notes. Just what I need. Let's see if I can build on this tune over the next couple of days.

Kiri-kiri

Day 5 - Gettin' my hands dirty

I signed up for a clay modeling workshop at Carpe Diem, Majorda. It goes on for 5 turns and each turn is 2 hours of learning how to work with clay of different types, understanding techniques and glazing and firing my own clay masterpieces!

I'm always ready for any artistic activity that gets my hands dirty. Today, we worked with terracotta. It's not very different from regular (gray) clay, and is more budget-friendly. Our instructor, Ramdas, made all the kneading and fixing look so effortless, we were in for a surprise when he assigned us our own lumps of clay to prepare for modelling. There is an entire process that precedes the actual modeling part, which I didn't know about. Pretty interesting how even the smallest air bubble in a lump of clay could cause your clay model to explode inside the kiln. Pretty dramatic, how he described it, too. 

Our technique for the day was 'pinching'. We each had a round lump of clay to hollow out by pinching evenly at the sides. Once we hollowed it out into even pieces, we joined two halves back together to make a hollow circle. After smoothening it, we were ready to design our masterpieces.

I decided to make a baby owl, which I would use as a tea-light or baby candle lamp. It was quite an intricate process but I was too enamoured by all the tools, the unlimited clay, and the endorphins soaring through my body. My mother also participated and was making her Frida Kahlo Pig curio.

There was a third lady, who as soon as she joined the class began to whine about how she would have to cut her nails to continue the class, and how she didn't want to hollow the clay, or make simple animal designs. She was adamant in making a traditional diya (lamp) with atypical patterns. When she saw what my mother and I were making, she whined that she wanted to do what we were doing. She just wasn't satisfied. She kept eyeing my mother's clay model and at one point I was worried that she would walk over and just shove my mom's work off the table to sabotage it. There's always ONE diva in every class I've attended. It's inevitable. I felt sorry for her. She wasn't able to expand her mind beyond what is 'safe' and 'pretty'. We are so enslaved by our fear of failure or 'ugliness' that people can spend an entire life not taking a risk. Ugly isn't bad. Neither is failure. Like Ramdas said, "If you mess it up, just start over with another one." Simple.

Ramdas and the owner of the workshop, Daegal, were very happy with our progress and kept taking photos. I loved the entire property itself, which is an art gallery cum coffee shop cum gig venue cum workshop space. I love the name -- "Carpe Diem". I am so excited to go back for the remaining sessions. 

My father was the official photographer of the evening, and while he didn't want to get his hands dirty, he kept himself occupied by documenting our entire workshop with his camera. 

I appreciate how patient he was, while mum and I worked on our pieces. 

 

For dinner, we went to Da Tita, an Italian restaurant in Majorda, which is known for its clay-oven pizzas and authentic Italian cuisine. I have never eaten more delicious pizza, greens or pesto bruschettas anywhere outside of Italy. The parma ham and pepperoni pizza was delectable. Not to mention the panacotta and tiramisu for dessert. The owner of this restaurant is an old Italian chef, who trained a local chef to cook authentic Italian fare. He even flew her down to Italy several times to experience the tastes and flavors of local Italian cuisine. I could almost smell the olive trees and rosemary bushes in Sorrento and the cheese factory in Meta. The parma ham reminded me of Prosciutto e Melone.

I had woken up today with disturbing thoughts, tears-inducing pain in my abdomen and a general sadness that I've almost gotten used to by now. But I knew that things would be better as the day panned out. I've begun to believe that despite hardships, I can have a good day, create something beautiful, meet new people and share stories, and be loved. Knowing this gives me more strength to cope with pain.

Today was a very fulfilling day. I am excited and motivated to create more art. (Secretly hoping Daegal, the owner, likes my artwork and decides to display or sell it at his gallery).

Amen.

(To know more about Carpe Diem and their various workshops through the year, visit their website: http://www.carpediemgoa.com/ . There are some incredible pieces of art there, not to mention delicious coffee and friendly dogs)

Day 3 - Night

10:06pm

Papaya Seeds

Vanilla beans from
home-grown pods

Ate pizza for dinner. Immediately regretted it. Turns out cheese, flour and processed meat aren't the best food to eat when you've been on a healthy diet for very long. There's delivered fast-food pizza and then there's clay-oven-fired Italian pizzas. We need to be reminded of the difference every now and then.

The evening wasn't as dismal as the first half of the day. I went into my mother's garden and helped her plant seeds and trim her ferns. It is truly a magical place, especially because my mother loves gardening and always has oodles of information about any plant I would point to. This is her happy place, and it was a glowing green. Plants make me happy too. They're welcoming and lush. And I can get lost in them.

Maidenhair Fern
(Mum's favorite fern)

Afternoon stroll

Don't watch the film, Young Adult on Netflix. Although Charlize Theron performed well, the film was dark and depressing and non-conclusive. Definitely not what I was looking for. But I had to watch the whole thing because I expected something big to happen halfway through it. It didn't.


Three things I feel good about today:
1. I went up to 50 mid-air squats.
2. The 'Peeno Noir' song in The Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt (Season 1, I forget which episode).
3. Nature always accepts me with arms wide open.

Made it through today. Achievement unlocked.

Day 2: Just keep swim-ming

"Fear of loneliness is a powerful thing", said Kelsey Grammar as Harry Hamilton in the film, Like Father.  I saw it this afternoon on Netflix and I thoroughly enjoyed myself. It was cathartic, emotional, funny, real and ironic: everything that makes it a good film for me.

I believe that at any given point of time, people operate from either one of two things: love and fear. Think about it. Why did I keep going back to my boyfriend? Why did my parents shout at me as a child? Why do I fight with people close to me? Why do we put that extra effort into creating something for someone or even ourselves? Is it out of love or out of fear? Chances are, for every one of those questions, at different times in our lives, the answer could be love and fear. This made me go back and (hesitantly) think about what went wrong, what was right, and what couldn't be fixed. I couldn't go too deep into it, because the wound is fresh. But I'm opening up to the possibility that not everything we said or did was out of fear. And not every promise or plan we made was out of love. Which was which and when? I don't know. I don't know if I'm ready to face that yet. Maybe later.

Today was Spa Day. I put on a mud pack on my face (Multani mitti/clay in case you're wondering). I filled a small tub with epsom salt and hot water. And I soaked my feet in it, while my face got crackly and cool with the clay. This, while watching Like Father on Netflix. My mother, ever-ready for a spa day, joined me. We broke for lunch, which was THE most delicious coconut fish curry I've tasted in Goa, made by my father. I, then, experimented with the mango topping on my lemon bars. Not too shabby! The flavour of the lemon bars is a bit over powering so you want to check the ratio of lemon bar to mango slices based on your preference. But a really yummy combination! *Pat on back*

It's been cloudy today, with intermittent rain. Every few moments, I'll hear a gentle rush of raindrops outside my balcony, with a gush of wind entering my room. No city noise, no honking cars or shouting people, no pollution, no blaring radio on the sidewalk. Just the sound of rain, some birds, the jazz radio my mom's listening to downstairs while she has tea, and way in the background: the distant roar of the sea.

Every few moments, his face pops up in my head and I feel a pang so potent I want to split in half. I'll never see that face the way he looked at me again. He'll never smile for me again. I'll never get to bury my nose in his chest and melt into his warmth. Then I remember all the things I didn't like about him, and how I tried to move past them, but eventually couldn't. I'm left with a mixture of emotions: guilt, shame, disappointment, sadness, hurt, anger, resentment but also clarity on the fact that this was our last try and it's done.

I went up to the terrace, thinking I'd paint something, but I saw the pool outside our house: blue, empty, untouched, undisturbed, with light ripples made by the breeze. I had to be a part of it. So I went for a swim. I was pretty impressed with my enthusiasm. As I was getting ready to go in, I had a barrage of doubts: Am I fit enough? Will it be cold? Oh, I'm not ready to do this. Maybe I should wait another day before I get out and about, I'm too depressed. Oh, but the water doesn't seem too cold, it's pretty lukewarm; just right. Well, I'm already in halfway, might as well go all the way in.

Once I was in, there were no thoughts. My body knew what to do. And I swam. It was liberating. Reassuring. Effortless. Brilliant. All the things I feel when I make music, or when I excel at something. I always remember the feeling I get when I swim. Exhileration. Freedom. Strength. Infinity. Solitude. Peace. What I was born to do. I meditated as I glided underwater, remembering the space within me is just as infinite as the water I'm swimming in. The silence around me silenced the chatter inside me. My tired and sore body felt activated. I floated on the surface of the pool, feeling weightless. The hot shower after my swim was the best I've had in days.



I hope to do this more often. I hope I have the courage to move a step forward every day, however small. I hope to remember that I don't have to freeze when something bad happens. That I can wiggle my toes to start with and make my way up.

I hope.