Passionate Preservation

I have been thinking a lot about how often we archive information, sculptures, art, writings, and produce literature and accounts of those from years past. There is something to be said about those history classes we have taken. A lot of stories are told from the perspective of the victors. I wondered how much was watered down or sugar-coated or embellished for the purpose of looking better in the long run. I have been fascinated by cultures, languages, folklore, and mythology since an early age. I realize now that my interests lie in the fact that it teaches us many important lessons. We've heard the old saying that "history repeats itself" but we have to ask ourselves--does it have to? Is there some way we can avoid that or keep it from happening too often? Is history doomed to repeat itself because it's an inevitable factor in shaping our future?

These thoughts led me to study the past more often. Some people think it's dangerous to be so absorbed in the past when the present requires attention. It's absolutely crucial to be present but it's just as crucial to learn from the past. A lot of what was accomplished in society as humans has to do with our predecessors. They learned through experience and mistakes, through trial and error. But as individuals, this is far more challenging. This is one of the biggest hurdles I've ever had to face and continue to face. Mistakes are the things that have constantly haunted me. If I wasn't living in the past or wallowing in self-misery over what happened, I was always worrying about the future. I was never truly present. I am slowly learning now to be aware of myself in the present, to recognize and acknowledge that the past is the past--and to not concern myself with what will be---to get out of the land of the what ifs.

In studying what I have, I realize there is so much more to learn from the past: the languages we spoke, the dreams we wove and shared, the incredible inventions we created, and the way we changed and continue to change.We have come a long way as a species. It's really something when I sit down to think about it and imagine how different life used to be, and what it is today. Humanity has done a lot in a short amount of time. We don't think of ourselves necessarily as a young species but we certainly are in many respects. It's a fascinating subject to study for sure. History will continue to move us, shape us, but it can show us the way to do things properly too.

Bittersweet

Beginnings and endings are transitions that seem to be a constant in life. Yet there are some that affect us more than others, so much so that it inhibits our abilities to use clear judgment when needed. We can all relate to moving to different places if that has happened in our lives. I certainly have moved around in my life. In fact, the images of each one of those moves are still with me. I see it now: The boxes are all packed and duck-taped neatly. The more delicate items have been cushioned properly and double-boxed if necessary. The clothes are in a variety of bags and suitcases. The entire place looks barren without the furniture or decorations around. The trucks have been loaded. The memories linger in the emptiness and silence within those walls; some good, some terrible, and others just mundane past-times.

It is May of 2018 now. A lot has changed. Roughly three years ago--I was getting ready to move into my new place. I was at long last entering the phase of being a homeowner. I remember the excitement and preparation that went into it: all the paper work, the phone calls, the changes, the hunting for properties, the inspection after selecting one, putting in an offer, and so on. Then came moving day where bit by bit, I began taking my belongings over there. I had to assemble an IKEA bed with family members, along with some other furniture. I remember battling the army of ants that took over my kitchen and bathroom (they made a return last month with another ensuing battle on my part). It's surreal to think that I used to live there for almost three years. It's a somewhat bittersweet memory. I was leaving my old home--one that I'd gotten so accustomed to that I wasn't ready to be in a new bed--a place that I'd not been familiar with before. Yet I left. And now having returned to headquarters aka the place I know best, it's come full circle. I am still a homeowner though a landlord now. It was a decision that was deemed the most logical and wise at this point. It is odd to feel like I'm back where I started but perhaps that is where my journey will go.

It was the end of my old life when I moved out, and the start of a new one, and having moved again back to old surroundings, it's no longer the same. It's still a new chapter. Change is inevitable. It just is. And if you're stubborn like me, you'll try to fight the change. You'll try to fight your nature. You'll try to make excuses to get out of things. But that the change will happen. The transformation will have already begun before you're even aware, and if you don't allow it to occur organically--the more painful and difficult these transitions get. I should know. I still find it an uphill fight some days when I set my expectations in the realm of "highly unlikely" and "forcing it doesn't work". It's not to say that I don't have goals. However, I now always remind myself not to attach specific outcomes to them as I have in the past. I leave you with another cliche as last time: Do your best, and leave the rest. 

Cold Feet: Life Happens

It indeed has been some time since I've found the will and inspiration to write. It's led me to think that there are times where silence is required and is an absolute necessity for personal growth. I'm sure many will agree on that issue. However, if there is a solitary pursuit that I enjoy that can be shared too--it is no doubt writing. It's a consistent and steady work-in-progress pursuit that will likely be never-ending. So while this post may be short and sweet, I do want to discuss something here. Maybe some of you can relate, at least that is my hope. Much of what I write in my spare time is fictional but this blog is more observational. Eventually, it will have a bit of everything, and not all will be quite as heavy as some topics but this is one I really feel needs to be addressed.

We often make several plans enthusiastically, and some of us actually see them through. The challenge is reacting appropriately to the hurdles we may face. This is something I do not do well, let alone even see half those plans through to completion. In fact, an admission here is that I have not finished many-a-things I started. Believe me, the list is long and exhaustive. Sure, some things I did complete such as schooling, obtaining degrees, and working. However, a lot has remained in the land of the seldom-visited projects. So, when we set out to accomplish goals or projects--it's important to take it step-by-step or slowly if needed. It may seem like common sense but it is one of the hardest lessons to learn for me. I try to reach for too much on my plate or react impulsively without the foresight to look at things critically.

In blogging here today, I am reminded of the cliched waking up and smelling the roses phrase or in my case, coffee. So, I will smell the coffee today.

Ch-ch-changes!

Often when we prepare ourselves for a transition, we look at many viewpoints. Recently, I had set my heart on moving out of state to try something new and to find myself. In fact, I'd even packed bags and boxes and was ready to fly out soon. Then, this nagging voice inside of me asked that question "Have you finished up all that you needed to do?"--I hadn't. It was true.

There were doctors' appointments, birthday surprises, being around to sign documents, and other such matters that warranted sticking around for a while. As I stayed though, something occurred to me. This city had been my home for a very long time. It's just nostalgia, I thought---I shrugged it off and told myself that I was doing what I want. But what I want wasn't the same as what was best for me. I'd heard nothing from the job market out of state for a few weeks, even using the local address there.

What was wrong, I wondered. The apartments I'd looked at were gone, snatched up before I'd even had a chance to respond to the property managers. I was worried. But a risk was a risk, right? Then all of a sudden, jobs I'd previously wanted or auditions I was looking at were becoming available. I took this to be a sign. I'm a believer in signs. I'm also a believer in practicality. Practicality is in staying here in my home town, saving money while pursuing this now that I have money saved. While I don't begrudge any risk-takers (brave folk) who go for it full-force, it's also not in my best interest right now.

If I left town, I'd be looking for work and then work that helps me in paying rent. I'd be rather busy. I wouldn't be paying attention to my writing projects. I wouldn't be auditioning. I wouldn't be spending time with family and friends---circles I am already part of! I would be stuck. Wasn't that the whole point of leaving town? I was trying to feel unstuck. I left my job for that reason. I enjoyed working where I was. It's not that I didn't. I felt though that my path was taking me elsewhere. That part of my life had to change. But it didn't need to be a change of scenery. I feel that I owe it to myself to give my city a chance first. Nothing is set in stone. It doesn't have to be.

I am writing daily, even working on a paper that compares Eastern religious philosophy (Hinduism in particular) and early religious cultures around the East. I've been researching for a while now and am about to do more. I'm also hard at work at a romance novel...dun dun dun...you heard me right! And I am working on a project that was inspired by Mindy Kaling. It's a bit of looking at life from the point-of-view of the NRI (non-resident Indian by the way) making her way through a home on the other side of her birth home. What is that like? What does it mean to have a hyphenated identity such as Indian-American? Speaking of identity, it has taken me nearly sixteen years---perhaps twenty---to finally feel like the identity crisis is over. I'm looking at myself as an observer would, and I see a person who is fulfilled and joyful---grateful for the life she's been given---and is going to continue living. Wherever this life and this path takes me, carpe diem! I am so thankful and happy.

'Tis the beginning of an adventure

I like to call myself a writer because that is predominately all I do. I look forward to writing each morning when I get up! I can't remember a time where I have not written something, whether it was poetry, songs, or fiction--but this blog is a first for me. I did spend some time on Livejournal, yes but those were whiny, angst-filled posts about the survival of college days. I never sat down to make a post such as this. I will be posting my views (careful now, there is some weirdness afoot) as well as poetry, songs, and the like. I feel that as a writer, I probably should engage in something colorful other than hoarding everything I write like an angry, territorial-little-sprite in the forest. I write just about anything and everything I can. I journal for my own purposes though I actually sit down with a pen and write, (gasp, how old school!) and that is a personal joy for me.

I am posting today because I felt it was time....and it is a lazy Sunday. It had me musing about something nostalgic from my childhood. I remember listening to my father's music---all the classics! I remember hearing the Moody Blues, Eric Clapton, The Beatles, and America (A Horse with No Name) for the first time and feeling like I'd traveled so much in my limited experience then. Nostalgia is wonderful sometimes albeit bittersweet. I consider myself young but not so young that I cannot recall parts of the 1980's, of course. I can still hear "I HAVE THE POWER!" whenever I see any posts regarding He-Man. This nostalgia makes me want to disappear through time and travel everywhere as an adult---I want to truly understand people. I have had a passion for life and a real sense of responsibility since an early age. I guess unless Doc really invents the time machine letting me Marty McFly myself to "days of the future past"---I will do well to lift the lid and rummage through candid videos, the old cartoons, and pictures to fill my heart with the same fascination as it did before.