Simply Being | Simple Being

Category: This-That (page 25 of 234)

Husband

He was a tall man, a little portly around the middle. His eyes were deep blue marbles that shone bright, not cold or hard. He had a nicely shaped head, the hair gathering gray near the temples. His face had the ruddy sheen of a healthy man, warm-blooded and passionate. When he laughed, his eyes crinkled shut, mouth open. His face was transformed, its contained expression morphing into one of simple joy, open and uninhibited.

Then he started, “My husband says…”

And my heart plain burst with the unexpected sweetness of it all.

(How wonderful it is to hear “my husband” and “my wife” in all kinds of hitherto unknown contexts.)

Attractive

If I am going to be really truthful, then I’d like to say this: I don’t really know if I am an attractive woman. I am an attractive person; I have enough confirmation on that. However, as far as physical attractiveness goes, hmmm… I don’t know.

A gawky girl with stick-straight hair and a gummy smile grew up to be an awkward teenager. Something changed around age 16. Maybe the hormones were doing their thing, but I hit the beginning of my “attractive” phase. Male attention found its way to me.

(I wonder if the guys around actually saw me, or they saw themselves reflected in my willing, friendly eyes. Some of us have the rare fortune of functioning as mirrors to others. They see themselves in us, and we get lost in the reflecting images. They don’t really see us, but they seem to love us, because they see themselves reflected in our transparent countenances. Perhaps that’s why guys paid me attention, compliments and such.)

I was sufficiently young and naive; so I thought of myself as an attractive girl that time. I was slim, and I had this lovely head of hair — silky, bouncy, and most importantly, straight.

Those were heady years, perhaps a tad too much. Heady enough that I lost sight of myself, which is an oft-happening occurrence for folks like me: the mirrors.

Kerala, 2011

As I headed to engineering college, the pattern continued to play itself out. Guys and attention, compliments and positive feedback… it went on. The awkward teenager felt vindicated.

(Despite what you may think, my fundamentals were solid, because I zeroed in on the one guy who stayed outside this shiny universe. And I stuck with him. Turned out to be a good decision.)

The years went on, and so did my attractive streak. Like every young woman, I was probably putting out feelers, scanning the territory for solid, bankable mates. I certainly got my share of matching signals, some terribly messed up.

Then marriage happened. Young, romantic love ripened into a sweet companionship and a rich friendship.

But I was attractive no more. Perhaps the signals had shifted without my knowledge?

As the years rolled on, I started looking younger and older at the same time, if you can imagine that. I didn’t have the fresh-faced innocence of youth, but my slim frame made me look much younger than my actual age. I wore no makeup, dressed like I’d just graduated college… And my hair began graying. I think my body and mind were playing games, confusing each other and everyone else! Men could no longer place me, or so it seemed.

But more significantly, I think I had begun signaling a lack of interest.

So, while women talk about having to handle unwelcome attention from males around them, I wonder: Where is this attention? Why isn’t it finding me?

I think I am not the mirror any more. My mirror has turned inward. Suddenly (or not so suddenly), my attention to the outside has dwindled. I am not available, I guess.

Playing Solo

If it isn’t obvious already (from the previous posts), I am by myself these days, a lot.

The husband is currently traveling for work. I have no children or pets, plus my social life is virtually non-existent, so this means that I spend a good chunk of time in my own company (apart from the time I spend at work with my delightful colleagues). I have also begun to go out for dinner, to movies, on hikes, etc. as a solo person.

All of this is new to me.

I hope this isn’t coming across as pathetic. Indian women are so geared to be in a relationship with someone (parents, husband, children) that this might feel like a rather unconventional picture. Actually, I don’t think it is that unconventional. The truth is that there are many girls like me in other cities, here and in India, living on their own, possibly liking it too.

I have been married for 13+ years, and we, my husband and I, have rarely been apart. However, starting last year, things have been somewhat different. He travels for 3-4 weeks at a stretch, and I am left to my own devices. As I recently discovered, I have quite the fondness for solo time; some days I wonder if I am turning into a semi-recluse of sorts?

But it isn’t always easy-breezy.

There are some evenings when I am at a loss. Something within tells me, ok, now read a book. But I just finished reading a book some time ago. What about watching a film? Okay… not feeling like it. Go out for a walk? Surf the Internet?

There is an urge within to keep moving, one activity to another, stay busy. Keep going, don’t stop until it’s bedtime.

“Keep yourself occupied, so you don’t have time for unnecessary thoughts.” This is some ancient wisdom that I have heard repeated again and again, ad nauseam. Let me be the first one to call BS on this bit of wisdom.

You can run yourself down in this tremendously silly attempt to be busy and occupied. However, your mind is smarter than that. Sure, your body will be exhausted, and you will drop dead/asleep on your feet. But the litany in your mind isn’t going to shut down, if that’s what you are trying to achieve. It is a better idea to be still, sit silent, think about what you are thinking.

“Millions long for immortality who don’t know what to do with themselves on a rainy Sunday afternoon.” — Susan Ertz

Sometimes, I wonder if life is preparing me for solitude/loneliness in the future. I am certainly getting good practice these days.

This situation can go forward in multiple ways. Like countless others (women and men) who face up to their alone situation, accept it completely, stop searching for things and people and activities to fill their “isolation.” Or spend the time and energies searching. Or remain somewhere in between.

Some days, I feel dejected, as I think about empty promises of friendship, none delivered. I feel angry at my bravado, thinking that I could be independent and free, on my own. I feel pride/resignation, as I contemplate my own mind that has consistently refused to buy into popular rhythms and patterns.

And then I think, you just chose all of it, baby.

The Guru and I

So this is the story of a cheerful seeker who didn’t know who/what she was seeking, until one day when she met an intelligent, lovable gentleman.

He gave her a little nudge. She was taken aback. But she was a compliant person, and so she gamely went along. Followed his lead, moving towards greater clarity about herself and the world around… until she hit a wall one day. Befuddled for a moment, she gingerly stepped forward, hand outstretched, only to realize that it was not really a wall she had encountered, but a gateway to a hidden path.

As she started on this new journey, she realized that she was somewhat alone. She had left behind nearly all her companions. But it didn’t feel lonesome at all.

She wondered, is it okay to have such a wonderful time, all by yourself?

I met Gurudev Sri Sri Ravi Shankar in early 2005. I had recently taken the Art of Living Course, and begun practising the breathing techniques. Soon enough, I came to know about the creator of the program, Sri Sri. The opportunity to meet him arose within a few months, and I took it up. Went to Miami for a Silence Program, and ended up meeting Gurudev. He has a magical persona, what can I say! It is all joy and smiles around him, and you feel elevated. I have often thought that the love surrounding Gurudev is like a tangible object; you can feel its solid presence. He epitomizes love, joy and wisdom for millions around the world. It is a miracle to see people from Latin America, Europe and other places respond to his presence, as if they have known him all their lives. This phenomenon defies logic and explanation.

I was similarly charmed. Then I began listening to his talks/videos, and I was drawn to the simple elegance of his explanations. His words seemed to be filled with timeless meaning. I chewed on them for years on end, as my own intelligence matured, granting me newer perspectives of all that he said.

A wise woman recently remarked that I was currently in a period of “blossoming and blooming intelligence.” And so it happened that I began to view the world (inner and outer) somewhat differently from my cohort. And then I wondered, is this original thought? How can it be so? Surely, someone like Gurudev would have spoken about it?

It occurred to me that words lose the ability to convey meaning beyond a certain point. Gurudev had patiently led us, again and again and yet again, to that point. And he would probably continue doing so for a long time to come. What lies beyond that juncture is an individual, solo endeavor. Or so it seemed to me. But I felt so supported, so strengthened and ready and capable for that journey… it was as though he had prepared me for this moment. It was perfect.

To me, this is freedom.

It also freed me from him. For many years, I lived in deep adoration of Gurudev. I followed him around, too shy to even say a word. I hung on to his very presence, keeping it alive around me in every way possible. I treated the idea of Gurudev (yes, I do mean “the idea of Gurudev” because I believe that it is clearly separate from who he is) like a sacrament, a precious relic that I would sully or dirty if I wasn’t careful or aware enough. Yes, I certainly did my part in ensuring that this idea remained as far away from me as possible.

One day, it struck me, these very words – You don’t need to move an inch to meet the Guru.

And thus Gurudev freed me of himself too… Like every beautiful relationship in my life that gave me the gifts of time and space.

Gurudev gave me wings, taught me to fly, cut me loose.