Day 35: Help

Today was a day of mixed emotions. From unbelievable stifled energy coursing up and down my body, to period cramps and confusion, to bursting into tears out of nowhere to a tub of butterscotch ice cream to encouraging my friend out of a depressed state.

I think everything I've been struggling with came to a head today and needed release. The tears helped in that release. My grandmother sat sa my side through it all, until I was calm and rested. I'm grateful for her.

The butterscotch ice cream was incredible. After two years of barely going near ice cream, the taste was all-the-more relished.

But the best feeling I got today was when I gave my friend some comfort. Even though I haven't been able to meet him yet, our conversations are stimulating and inspiring. Today he admitted to me that he's has bouts of depression in the past couple of years. This was a special moment for me, because it told me he trusts me enough to share something that vulnerable. I sent him words of comfort and told him I've been there too.

Of course I had to add something cheesy:

"Don't worry about finding rhythm in your life. As Gloria Estefan rightly put it, "The rhythm is gonna get you".


In any case, it was comforting to know I'm not the only one struggling. But moreso that I could relieve some of his burdens even for a few minutes. My shoulders eased too.

I think it helps to help others when I am low. Being able to create a positive change in someone's life, also creates a positive change within mine. It made me believe in better days and a better life for myself too. We are human and therefore we are all connected by the struggles of life. And I think it brings us closer because we all want somebody to help us through them. I hope I can do this more often.

Day 34: Flow

Today, I got my period (on time, thankfully). I think it had something to do with the chakra meditation I've been practicing lately. I have begun to trust the 'flow of life's and I guess life is flowing through me.

And that's not all that's flowing. So are lyrics. As of last night, post meditation, a bulb switched on inside me and there were words!

So I did write a chorus with the words "four Paws and a bad limp" and it turned out quite nice, if I may say so myself. But the wonder that I was experiencing today was something else entirely. I was fiddling with my ukulele to figure verses for the Four Paw song, when something else started playing.

There were words, there was Melody, there were chords and a rhythm. I picked up my ukulele and began to sing. And the words flowed through me. At first I didn't understand what I was singing, and for whom. Or from whom. Then I felt like it's a song for me. From the Inner Me. It was surreal.  So I wrote down and recorded the melody for future reference. And it filled me with joy. It was simple, small and nothing spectaular, for a song, per se. But I  felt some blockage being removed and a river of magic flow through me. Yes, there was blood literally flowing down my nethers, painfully so, but I felt a release. And that is reassuring. I want to embrace the flow. I really want to.


The song (I'll put up a recording later):

"Look around... It's me.
Look around... It's me.
Look around... It's me.
Look around... It's me.

I'm the warmth inside your eyes.
I'm the creases in your smile.
I'm the home you've always dreamed of
Inside.

Look around... It's me.
Look around... It's me.
Look around... It's me.
Look around... It's me."

Day 33: Inspiration

I forgot to post yesterday and only remembered when I was almost asleep. I chose sleep. Plus, I can't really recall what I did yesterday. These days, everything feels like a blur.

Today was especially blurry and frenzied. I was mentally restless and agitated and felt trapped in my sluggish body. Therapy helped me ground myself again and meditating always lifts me. I have to accept the process and listen to my body a lot more.

I finally created a small nook in my bedroom for songwriting and other quiet phrsuits. I opened up my yellow notepad (the only one that inspires songs writing) and waited for inspiration. I have many projects that I started earlier in the year that I could finish but I wanted some thing fresh. I asked a friend to throw any thing at me. A topic. A subject line. Anything.

"Four Paws and a Bad Limp". That's what he wrote to me.

Well, here we go.

Day 31: Activate

I went back to yoga today. It was wonderful. My body was sluggish in the morning but I was mentally ready for some muscular activity and I gave it my best shot. My teacher is wonderful. She knows how to work my body and mind in a way that motivates them to try harder. I accomplished more than I expected and my mind and body feel activated.

The real challenge for me is the follow-through. I'm supposed to practice every day and as history would have it, I'm not very conscientious about the follow-through, especially if I've been out of a routine for a very long time. I'm keen to make this my routine and hopefully stick to it.

I'm excited at the thought of returning to Los Angeles in the Winter. But I'm also weary of constant travel and movement right now. Transition periods can really take everything out of you. But that's what's meant to happen. How else would there be place to pack in new experiences?

I sometimes wonder if in my quest for some kind of anchor I have gotten so used to moving around that moving around itself is my anchor? And what I seek I already have, in my ability to adapt to any life that comes my way? I'm not sure. It doesn't settle me. Maybe what I'm looking for is some place to feel settled. I know, partly, that I won't find it anywhere if I don't have it within me. Just like I believe you cannot love someone fully if you don't love yourself first. If there is no love inside, there is no love to give. If there is no home inside, there won't likely be one outside either. Why am I so terrified of feeling at home with myself? Why am I not enough? What stops me from going home to myself? Is it the fear of realising we are all alone and going to die? Is it fear, even? There are many questions I'm impatient to find the answer of. I know all will reveal itself at the right time. I believe that.

I'm in the midst of learning a lesson. And lessons are learnt with ease, said noone ever.

Day 29: The Pack

I went over to my sisters' house again. It's a comfort to know they live nearby and I can access them anytime I want, in any state I am.

We laughed a lot. Even in my daze, I felt alive again. We are all going through our own personal struggles but that we could laugh at ourselves and eachother despite that is special. I cherish the relationship I share with my siblings, my brother included. After all the hurdles we have overcome, we are finally a 'pack'. We are unbreakable, unshakeable and irreplaceable. We look out for each other, lean on one another and share ourselves fully. I took my time to join the pack: being a loner. But I'm happy and grateful to say that my attempt to trust and lean on this pack has proven successful and has made feel safe and loved.

And what more does one need, anyway, more than love?

To my 'pack'. I'm always with you, for you and by your side.

Day 28: Daze

The ground swims 'neath my feet.
Like vapors aboved a heated car.

I'm still but also restless inside
I'm here but I want to be far
Away.

Blank as a slate
But wordless thoughts
Scribble away in my mind.

I stare at the clock
In front of me
Hoping for time
To move.

Deep breath in, out
Deep breath in... out...
Deep... breath... in... out...
Deep....... breath........ In.......Out.......
Deep....

Day 25: Busybee

I want to write ONLY positive things today, because I got a lot of work done and I'm fairly proud of myself.

I completed two big steps that take me forward in my visa application.

I'm flirting and chatting with a man who's funny, intelligent, adventurous and light-hearted. And he makes me laugh. Totally what I need. I think we might just become very good friends, if nothing else. I can't wait to meet his dog. 

I snagged a writing assignment for a content publishing company. 400 words per article. As many as I can dish out. It only took me 20 to write one. Guess what's going to keep me busy for the next few days? Oh, I do get paid, but I'm not doing it for that (it's just about enough for cab fare). The work is reactivating my brain, especially because for some reason writing is my art of expression in this phase of life. 

I managed to brainstorm with my sister about her projects and get some insight into my own.

I did 30 mid-air squats today. It could have been yesterday, but I think it was today. Or yesterday. But it happened. 

I released my ex-boyfriend from the hurt inside me. He's human and he did and said only what he knew best. I wish him karma. 

I have begun to love dried figs. Sugar craving re-conditioning achievement unlocked.

This project that I helped my sister with involves me 'acting' in front of a camera for a Web Series. A few years ago, I wouldn't have dreamt of it. Now, it feels natural and I'm being appreciated more than I expected. I've been bitten by the drama bug and am liking the attention and praise.

I also feel blank in my head. Not too many thoughts. It could be the medication. It could be that my mind is just occupied elsewhere - somewhere productive. I like being employed. I feel a sizzle in my batteries. 

Sizzle, sizzle. 🔥

*pat on back*

Day 24: Full Moon

Full moon tonight. I really wished I could go far, far away to a secluded hilltop and howl into the night. Not just because I'm sad, but moreso because it is freeing. Belting out the inner me into the cosmos, the universe, as the moon calls out to me.

Instead, I got extremely agitated with the residual poisonous pesticide smell in my house, which wasn't being pest-controlled in the first place, the wild goose chase I embarked upon in search of medication, which nobody seemed to have or want to give without having it all appropriately accounted for, me getting territorial and aggressive with men who were staring at me from behind in an ATM booth. I mean, it's an ATM booth! Get your own! And stop WATCHING me. I don't think they were creeps. But today just wasn't the day for me. Not to mention slipping and falling in the rain, in front of what seemed like mannequins at the entrance of a building near yet another pharmacy. Good to know you guys had my back, in your heads, at least. Or maybe you didn't see me fall in front of you, struggle to get up, fall again, and eventually crawl to a pole for support. 

I'm grateful that I moved to my cousin's house for the night, was fed warm, simple food, breathed clean air and finally did get a hold of my meds. As I calm down into a zen-like stupor, I look back at the high-octane agitation and realise there really is something about that full moon. Anything that could go wrong, doesn't just go wrong, but horribly wrong in my head. Negativity can be on an amplified high. 

To the men who were in my space at the ATM, you didn't know better, or don't understand the concept of space. I know you weren't creeping on me. If you were, I guess you had a good look and I know if you touched me you would regret it. It's okay.

To the people who couldn't help me with the medication, you looked as much as you could, and it's a hard drug to source. You did your jobs well. Thank you for listening to me, especially during peak time. 

To the drivers who took me all over town, helping me find pharmacies, I'm ever grateful for your patience. 

To the people who could not contain the poisonous pesticide fumes and prevent them from entering our house, I understand now that your olfactory nerves are dead from experiencing this on a regular basis, not knowing that these fumes are harmful. You did not sense the danger and were oblivious. Still, you made an effort to comfort me. Thank you for that, despite not knowing what it was that agitated me. 

To the people who watched me slip and fall and didn't even flinch or show enough concern or help me get up, I guess you didn't want to risk falling, too. I get it. Floors get super slippery in the rain. Save yourself, first. I understand. 

To the last pharmacist who made me wait in the cold air-conditioned shop, agitated and tired, soaked from the rain, thank you for not waiting on me first, and finishing up with the other people, who were there before me. You did sense my urgency, but held your integrity by not breaking the queue. You made the poor man next to me, who had come first,  feel important and special. That made me warm inside.

To the full moon, thank you for letting me howl my eyes out in the safety of my sister's room. I imagine a hill would be cold, isolated and less comfortable to sleep in right now. I recognise your wisdom and salute you for bringing out awareness in me.

🙏

Day 21: Letter to You

Dear You,

Yes, this letter is addressed to YOU and not me. I want to take this moment to tell you that you are special and magical. There is something beautiful that radiates through you, whether you believe it or see it in yourself or not. I see it.

And when you are in a dark corner and cannot will yourself to get out, remember that you are brilliant and capable of anything and everything you set your mind to.

I know the 'easier said than done' reply. I am not saying I have it all figured out. I'm discovering life too, a day at a time. So even if I cannot tell you how to get out of the dark corner or assure you that everything will be peachy forever, I can say this: you are not alone. There is power in knowing that everyone is struggling with something big or small. And that even if we feel alone or lonely, we are in it together.

I hope this strengthens and comforts you. Know that you are worth the fight, the pain, the struggle and the investment. You are worth every ray of sunshine.

And I love you, as you are, today and forever.

May you be happy.

Tulsi

Day 17: Sleep

Sleep has been the order of the day. And I have no idea where it came from. I had planned to get a massage in the afternoon, but something just told me not to, deep inside. Instead I went to my bed, and played around with my ukulele. Before I knew it, I was fast asleep.

I had a bunch of dreams, different people in different places, me biking down a steep hill in China, and then eating at a restaurant for a break. Being at a festival of some sort with some old teachers from music school. Meeting an old classmate from my first-ever school. There was celebration and adventure. Everything and everyone from different parts or stages of my life came together; I didn't know where to look. 

I woke up deeply rested, half surprised I even slept that long. To have this state of deep relaxation is a luxury and I am grateful for it. 

I started playing the bamboo flute my mother gifted me. It's hard because the holes aren't placed in a symmetrical fashion. They aren't meant to be. And my fingers aren't used to stretching that far to cover them. And a bansuri is harder than a recorder. You have to get just the right kind of lip pucker, if you know what I mean. My mother saw me struggle and said, "Start with one note." And so I did. 

I'm still adjusting to this week. Some plans are set in motion to help me get back on my feet. A routine is being put in place. Some help here, some medication there, some internal meditative work and some external physical discipline. They all sound like old friends I haven't met in a while and I'm wondering if they will remember me and still think I'm the same resourceful, independent, strong, innovative woman I think I am or used to be. Brief breaks can feel like an eternity, depending on the state of your mind. I'm apprehensive, but also excited. I know I have done this before. I know I have beat this before. I know how to succeed. I have succeeded before. It's been a hard fall, recently, but I know I can walk again. You don't just forget to walk, do you?

It helps, especially, when a guy tells you you're cute just for being you, too. Let's not pretend like that doesn't make a difference. (More on that, another time.)

For now, I'm going to focus on my breath. Breathing in, breathing out. And the gap of silence in between. Nothing more. Each day, one more breath. 

Motto: One step at a time. One day at a time. One single note at time. And sleep. Lots of sleep.

Day 12: One step forward

Today, after a long time, I felt an iota of improvement during my anxiety attack this evening.

I could feel it coming, as my mother was driving us home. I was filled with dread no matter how beautiful the lush green fields on either side of the road were, no matter the breeze from the sea nearby, no matter the peace and quiet of our neighbourhood. The dread reached the pit of my throat and began to expand dangerously. I could feel it and began to take deep breaths. I waited for my mother to park, bit could not leave the car immediately. I needed everything within and around me to be still, including my mother. 

I made small movements, like my therapist taught me, first with my toes, then my fingers. I couldn't breathe. I kept feeling like I'm being suffocated by invisible hands. Tears fell involuntarily from my eyes. But this time, I fought to breathe. I tried to sit up straight to give my lungs space. It didn't help. My arms and fingers tightened up. I didn't scream or cry openly this time. I was focused and determined to breathe. I crouched forward into my lap, folded my hands in prayer, with my thumbs to my forehead and said under my breath, "Help me".

A song started playing in my head. Then another. And I wanted more. I managed to mutter to my mother to sing for me. Anything. It didn't matter. Just sing. And so she did. And as her voice carried through the car and the light breeze passed through my window, my breathing stabilized. I slowly lifted my head from my lap. I looked in front of me and saw the cars dashboard. I focused on its color, shape and design. Somehow, my hand broke loose from it's frozen, contortion position and crawled up to the dashboard. I began to run my fingers along it and breathe better. I looked left and right and began to expand my view. My other hand began to move and I began to sit straighter. I forced myself to look at my surroundings and remind myself that I am *here* and nowhere else. That I am safe in this space. That I am in the present. That I can and will breathe. And so I did. 

As my mother finished singing, I was sitting upright, with my hands, relaxed in my lap. My body was completely exhausted, but that expanding lump in my throat had disappeared. 

I know I need more help, and I am going to seek it. 

But for the first time, I had some control over myself and it gave me hope. 

Also my mother has a beautiful voice and it can uplift the darkest spirit. 

Activity for the day: my mother introduced me to a photo-editing software app called SnapSeed. And I learnt how to use the double-exposure filter. I'm pretty excited about this, because I have a theme for my first music album and this works well within it. 

'Ajna'

Day 7: Letting Go

Why is 'letting go' such a battle? By 'letting go', I mean letting go of everything: hurt, betrayal, anger, pride, insecurity, past words, past relationships, anything and everything that no longer serves a purpose in my life and yet plays a front-and-center role in it. I think it goes deeper than just letting go of these things.

Letting go means letting go of familiarity. Even if they're yesterday's jeans, I've worn them enough times to know what they feel like and whether I consciously choose it or not, I'll be more comfortable wearing them than throwing them away and getting a new pair. I've already adjusted to their shape, to the torn pockets, to the tight buttoning and faulty zipper. I've found a way around them all, and have been able to coexist with the familiarity of old jeans. But the truth is, I've outgrown them and they no longer keep me warm or fit my body. Hard to part with old jeans. Now, imagine parting with old stories, old love, bitterness, unfinished romances, unsaid words, scars that have almost begun to define you, and so on. I mean, without these, I'm a blank slate. I have no beginning and no end. I have no story. And I'm left with now and here, and what I want to do with it. It's terrifying, letting go. Even though it is the ultimate goal. It's terrifying.

Who would I be then? The girl who met those people? The fighter who fought those battles? The woman who fell in love or out of it? The worker who never gave up? The body that did, when I pushed it over the edge? The heartbroken crumple who aches to be loved? The child who constantly wants to go home, but doesn't know where that is?

Letting go would mean I'm no longer any of these. I'd be me, plain and simple. And whatever I choose to be, henceforth. I think the stories that have accompanied us so far, become like companions, familiar shoes that we walk with every day, our favorite blanket to sleep with, our poison of choice, and our best friend. Remember, we also take pride in the things we've conquered/ accomplished/vanquished/rejected, however brutal the struggle was. Pride is a tough one to check and let go of. Oftentimes, we aren't even aware of how governed we are by our pride.

It's heartbreaking saying goodbye to the past. But that's exactly what will set us free from it. It is the eternal struggle we humans face in this limited period of time called life. We're moving uphill and our journey can  be either tougher or easier, depending on the amount of baggage we choose to accumulate along the way.

Operative word: "Choose"

Letting go also means no control. This is a big one. I can guarantee that 90% of whoever reads this post is terrified of losing control. No, I don't mean getting drunk at a party and dancing on the counter. Not that kind of losing control. I mean letting go of this idea that we have everything under control in the first place. That our lives will turn out the way we planned because of a series of actions we undertake in a calculated manner. Ha! The only thing that is guaranteed is that plans don't necessarily turn out the way they were meant to. That anything that can go wrong, just might. That you may find happiness where you least expect it. That your dreams may  cometrue but in the most horrific way possible. Change is constant and inevitable and if you don't catch that train, you'll be stuck on an empty station, until the station itself disappears and you have no ground underneath your feet. Nothing is in your control. Except the choice you make to cling to an illusion of control.

I'm afraid to let go. But I have moments when I can surrender myself to Nature and the Universe and I feel protected and secure, knowing they have my back. A year ago, I met someone special in a very unexpected place. We hit it off and there was a special energy between us. But in that time, we were both struggling with our own histories. And we couldn't get past them. I remember going to the beach one afternoon and going straight in to the Ocean and closing my eyes. I surrendered my heart, my fears, my desires, my everything, my whole being to Her. I prayed for support if he was someone who's meant to be in my life. And if he wasn't, I prayed to be released from the desire of him. And it helped me to cope with the changing situation at the time. It helped me to understand that nothing is in my control, so when I gave up the 'illusion of control' or my tendency to 'overthink' or 'micromanage' my feelings, I was a happier, freer person. I had all the space, time and freedom to love unconditionally, without desire, without expectation, without judgment. I still think fondly of him, grateful that we met, hoping he is happy wherever he is, irrespective of whether we see each other ever again.

But this hasn't been easy for me to practice regularly. I have had the opportunity to experience total surrender and its rewards, but it takes a lot out of me to actually do it all the time.

I guess it starts with asking myself: what is it that I want? Really?

I haven't thought of an answer yet. Not fully. There are words and ideas, but a full sentence, a full list of what I really want - I'm afraid to consider it. I'm afraid to manifest it, only to lose it.

I guess my fear is losing what matters to me most. Everything ends, doesn't it?

Haha!
As I write this, I'm reminded of a conversation with that same person I mentioned earlier.
We were discussing relationships and he said something along the lines of, "What's the point? Because all these relationships go away in the end."

And I said to him, "What's the point in living, then? We're all going to die anyway."
I also said (and I think this answers my question to myself), "... a month or so ago, I was dealing with unbearable pain caused by heartbreak. But even in that pain I knew that one day I will love again. Feeling love for someone is worth every trial and heartache. Love is the point of everything."

I don't have a conclusive end to this post, except that in remembering what I said to this person, I am reminded about what I seek and why I want to let go of all that baggage.

To make space for love, love, and more love.

Quando a mare baixar
Vai lhe-visitar
Vai fazer devocao
Vai lhe-presentiar
No mar
Mora Iemanja,
No Mar
Mora Iemanja
('Rainha do Mar' - Carolina Soares)

Day 3 - Afternoon

2:05pm.

I'm lying in bed, feeling exhausted. I woke up pretty fresh but my legs feel like lead. Maybe it's all the swimming from yesterday. Maybe I'm cramping, because I'm expecting my period. Maybe I'm just weighed down mentally.

I made an eggy breakfast for my mother and myself around noon. Just a simple omelette withpotatoes, onions, a tomato, with rosemary and honey to top it off. It felt good and was filling.

My mother suggested we drive out and run some errands. But I have no energy, no will, no inclination. I feel broken and debilitated. Today, I haven't found the enthusiasm I usually muster up when I'm trying to look for distraction. I feel like an incapacitated mess.

The worst part of it all is: I'm not isolated. I know, I know. It sounds ungrateful. How can she complain about not being alone? Isn't that what she wants, anyway? Confused, selfish, picky woman. 

It's frustrating. To have a bed to lie in, but not feel rested. To be hugged and loved by my mother but still feel uncomfortable. To want to laugh at a joke my father cracked but it hurts to smile. To feel lonely in a room full of people. To have something to say but it tires me out to speak. To feel inadequate despite being talented, beautiful, smart and self-sufficient. To feel like a failure when I have enough experience under my belt to feel like I've achieved something . To feel like I'm worthless even when my ego is inflated enough to write about how awesome I am in this paragraph. To not want it, but feel totally sorry for myself. Why is that such a bad thing, damn it?

I know I'll have to pull myself out of it some day. But today, I just don't want to. Today I want to be so still that I evaporate. Or so still that I'm not really there. I'm just a bunch of molecules floating in the breeze. Or so silent that nobody that can hear me passing by, breathing or feeling.

All I want to hear is that bird chirping outside my balcony, the rustle of leaves in the breeze, frogs jumping in and out of the pond near my house, the flutter of wings and the fan whirring on my ceiling.

I think my achievement for the day would be to get through it.