Living like a recluse

I have returned after a 45 day meditation retreat and as I try to get back to the outer world that is comparatively noisy & chaotic, I reflect on what I have gained the past one and a half months.

This is the first time I meditated in a Pagoda cell almost continuously except for the 6pm group sitting in the hall, followed by Goenkaji's discourse. In the earlier courses I was uncomfortable in the cell in the Pagoda. It was in the last 30day course in May 2019 that I made an attempt to confront the discomfort that I experienced in the cell and started sitting there during the meditation period. This is precisely what I like about the course: you confront your discomforts rather than avoid them. Sitting in the pagoda cell in the 30 day course gave me the opportunity to do that and gradually overcome my fears. 

A lot of Goenkaji's instructions are in the discourses that he gives, in which he explains the theory behind the practice. It is interesting that it is the practice that is constantly emphasized and one understands the theory only through the practice. 

What impressed me much was the story he narrated about a monk who used to walk past a beautiful lake everyday. Children and adults would visit the park near the lake and they would mess around quite a bit, plucking flowers and running and jumping around. There were beautiful lotuses that bloomed and they were a very pretty sight in the blue lake. The monk one day was drawn towards a lotus, and admiring its beauty he plucked one. Immediately a celestial being appeared in front of him and admonished him for plucking the flower. This was not expected of a monk of his stature, she said. The monk apologised and thanked the celestial being for keeping him in check , but wanted to know why she admonished only him when clearly the children and the other people in the lake were behaving even worse than him, and yet she did not say anything to them. To this she replied : If one spills a drop of ink on a white piece of cloth, it becomes so conspicuous, but when it is spilled on an already dirty cloth, it is hardly visible. A monk is like the white piece of cloth, while the people messing the park are not as pure.

The monk thanked the celestial guardian angel of the lake for opening his eyes to his mistake and said, do let me know of any transgressions I might make in future as well. To this she replied : Out of my compassion, I reminded you today, but it is not my responsibility to go chasing you everywhere to check your conduct. You need to be responsible for yourself, nobody can keep reminding you what you should and should not do.

I have heard this story a number of times in the previous courses but it had a more significant impact on me this time. As a practitioner of Vipassana doing long courses and additionally as a facilitator of 10day Vipassana courses, I need to be careful about how I conduct myself. Nobody really keeps you under their watch, you keep yourself under your watch and behave in a way that is befitting of a practitioner of Vipassana meditation. 

True enough, as participants of the 45 day retreat, we are pretty much left on our own to meditate where ever we choose: the Pagoda cell, or the Dhamma Hall or at our residence, follow the timetable and are not "supervised".  A facilitator is available if we run into difficulties,but by and large we are alone on a solitary journey.

Why do we do it? To know and live the experience of the unsatisfactoriness  of life. To understand and live the experience of the four noble truths

1. There is suffering (dukkha) 

2. There is cause for suffering

3. This suffering can end or cease 

4  The way out of suffering is to follow the  eight fold noble path 

What is the eight fold noble path? 

First you do not harm yourself or others through speech or by action, you engage in earning an honest livelihood that does not harm others and you put  an  effort to accomplish these desirable ways of living. 

Second, you begin the practice of focusing your mind on an object of meditation, such as the breath, to improve your concentration and awareness. These are essential for the development of wisdom which includes right understanding  and developing good positive thoughts.

The first step is taken as a vow or precept and the environment at the center pretty much takes care that one does not cause harm to oneself or others through speech or action.

Therefore we begin with the second step of focusing the mind on the natural respiration for the first ten days. After this, the practice of Vipassana- observing sensations on the body and remaining equanimous to their changing nature.

I will be writing more on my experiences in the next blog.

The complaining mind: Deep acceptance of what is.

"Complaining is the result of attachment to the thinking process...to ideas, ideals, words, views and opinions. "  Ajahn Sumedho 

Impressed by this quote, I listened to the author's talk on the Complaining Mind. He speaks of how we think there is a certain ideal we think we should live by. Or our way of doing things is the best and we become unhappy when people don't meet those ideals.  He offered a simple solution. Observe your mind, listen to what it says. Note that it is complaining because what is happening is not what it wants. But things do not always happen the way we want it to. Notice it. Just notice it, do nothing else.

.

I know this is not new. We train our minds in this way during meditation. This is what I think, now what is happening in my body? What is the sensation I feel that is accompanying this thought?  Ajahn Sumedho was reminding me to do that. Note that you have this thought, note the sensation accompanying it. 

We become so attached to our thoughts, our way of doing things. We wish others would  understand us, know our ideals and behave according to our ideals.

I realised  that when I observe my thoughts without reacting to it, there is greater acceptance of what is happening. The thought is complaining about something, and just notice it "here is the complaining thought" "this person did this and that is not the way it should be done" and rhetorically asking: " How could he/she do this?" Observing it makes me realise that I am helpless about it. I cannot control myself thinking this way.  And I begin to accept that I cannot do anything. This acceptance of me having these thoughts, loosens the grip of these thoughts till gradually  I am no longer in their grip. They come, stay for some time, I give them my attention but not get upset by them or react to them. Accepting myself is an extraordinary feeling. I am not fighting anything, I am just letting myself be. I am letting my thoughts be and I am observing the sensations that come up, intense sensations and then observe them recede , just as my thoughts recede as well.

This is exactly what I felt while swimming this morning. The mind was complaining, feelings of helplessness came up. Tears were beginning  to come up. When I put my head in water, I felt calmer, and a greater sense of acceptance, of being held, of being supported. Gradually, the complaining thoughts began to recede. The acceptance I experienced was deep as I could accept myself with all of my ambivalent thoughts. They had found a temporary place to stay and play themselves out and recede when their time was over. I reached the other end. 

My thoughts on the troubled times we live in

 Nothing rankles in the human heart as much as injustice. The epitome of this is war. Innocent valuable lives are lost because their leaders believe they have to wage this war. 

It is only recently that I  read Sapiens by Yuval Noah Harari, famous historian, where he says that wars are a thing of the past and will not happen again  not after the two World Wars that almost wiped out Europe. But here it is happening. Russia has entered Ukraine and bombing it. Is it a territorial expansion? Why? 

I went out to swim that day wondering, maybe somebody should teach Putin to meditate. My teacher would say that  whenever one sees injustice---an oppressor and an oppressed, we automatically sympathize and send metta  (loving kindness) to the oppressed, but actually we must be sending a lot of metta toward the oppressor as well. To create suffering for others one must be suffering too, and he is in need of much loving kindness himself. May he understand what he is doing, may he come out of his suffering, may the people on whom this crazy war has suddenly descended be free from suffering. These were my sentiments as I was swimming that day.

I know a person who is from Ukraine who lives in Singapore and when I read her posts on the conflict, war, whatever it is called, I was more concerned. She and many others from that country live here and have families and friends back there in Ukraine who must be suffering. Now it is not just a war happening in a distant place but with migration & interconnections in recent years, we all face the impact very close. 

As I tried to make sense of it, I started reading more history of the strife. I remember the days when the USSR suddenly disappeared in 1991. Things rapidly changed after that. In the years before that two Russian words had become very popular: Prestroika and Glasnost.

Appeals to support Ukraine started in earnest on social media. Putin was and is being criticized a lot for attacking the sovereignty of a country. The President of Ukraine is hailed as an inspiring leader when he stay put and told the US : I need ammunition not a ride. 

But what was still puzzling for me was why did Putin attack Ukraine. This was the information I gathered:

It wasn't as if he woke up one morning and decided to go to war. Obviously a lot has been brewing over the years. Roughly there are 3 major issues involved.

1. The Nord Stream 2 pipeline to transport energy from Russia to Germany directly. It started in 2011, but was fraught with controversies as the US was not for it. Understandably as that would make EU more dependent on Russia which was going to send almost 30% of energy requirements. Trump had shut down the project and then Biden opened it. Only to shut it down again when Russia attacked Ukraine. The  timing seems quite significant

2. The NATO : This organization was set up after the World wars to protect the interests of European countries & US against USSR. After USSR collapsed, it ought to have disbanded but it wasn't. Instead it started to expand it operations bringing in more countries. For a country to become a member of the NATO, it should have a certain number of arms which of course has to be bought from the US so that they have a flourishing business in arms trade. 

Putin had asked to become a member of NATO but was refused. Old enmity hadn't ended. Every attempt of his to engage in diplomacy and talks was spurned or not met with reciprocation.

(Ref: 1.The Jimmy Dore show :  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mffCvWZujWA&t=1363s 

2. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8X7Ng75e5gQ Vladimir Pozner: How the West created Putin)

3. The more serious one is the Donbas in Eastern Ukraine which is more pro-Russia. In year 2014 a democratically elected pro-Russian government was taken over by a coup. The support to dislodge that government was said to be provided by the US. This led to frequent fighting between the pro- Western group which is now in power in Ukraine and the stronghold of the pro-Russian group in Donbas. So some people question why the killings in Donbas since past 8 years went unnoticed, while now the attack on Ukraine is getting center stage attention.

So obviously there is more to this war than what the pro-Western media would like us to believe.

It is good to know different perceptions. It is also important that we realize that these our perceptions and may not be the complete truth. What is sad  is that common people suffer.

As the Buddha said: Hatred is never appeased by hatred in this world. By non-hatred (love) alone is hatred appeased. This is law Eternal.

It is probably too idealistic to wish for such sentiments to be shared by world leaders.

Greed seems to still drive people: greed for power, wealth, predatory conquest over other countries. China is looking for water and wants to capture the Indian Ocean. And it is endless. We have gained immeasurable knowledge and technologically advanced as a society. Wisdom is what we still need to develop in ourselves. Only that would make the world a better place.

One play two roles: "Oxygen 95"

One play, two roles.  "Oxygen 95" staged as part of Pathey Nimidam at the Esplanade this 28th, 29th and 30th January 2022,  was more than just a 10 minute play. On the face of it, it was a true life story of a lady trying to come to terms with her mother's death due to covid, unable to visit or be with her. However, for a discerning viewer, it had quite a number of layers when it finally went on stage. 

I played two roles, one was a counsellor (Dr. Badri) who the lady (Meena) visits to make sense of her life that has turned upside down with this sudden loss. Death of a parent at any age shakes you up for sure, and death in such strange conditions of covid, where visits are impossible, can be traumatic.

The other role I played was a mother. A mother who loved her daughter, independent, yet nurturing strong ties with her children; forceful, yet helpless at times as hospitalization makes her feel increasingly depersonalized and out of control.

The director's idea of the swivelling chair to show the change of characters was brilliant. To me it lent a new interpretation to the story. Meena is distraught and is expressing a complex set of emotions to her counsellor who at times is able to mirror her mother. In her eyes she sees her mother in the persona of the counsellor. On the face of it, Meena is speaking to her counsellor but at another level she is speaking to her mother trying to revisit and unpack the sequence of events that transpired before her demise in the hope of making sense of it, if ever there was one. Did she do her best? Could she have done more? And as many of us feel in a similar situation, can she turn the clock back? 

For many of us, our mother is our first counsellor, we would run to whenever we faced a problem. Even as grown ups, sometimes overburdened with the cares of the world one might just want to place their head on their mother's lap to find comfort and solace. So was it with Meena. 

So was it for me enacting the two roles. For I found a merging, blurring yet distinct characters being played out. 

I must also mention the poignant end when the mother rises up to come to the distressed daughter, to accept with serenity the inevitability of death and that the grand master above knows best and takes us into his fold; we may cast aside our physical bodies, but our soul lives on. 

This was the symbolic casting off the gown after giving her final message. "We do our best and leave the rest"

This is why theatre fascinates me. The depth of the roles and the persona that one gets to portray. It teaches you about life and the choices people make. Teaches you to look below the surface of characters in the play. It also helps us understand peoples' behaviour in general. Each of us going through some issue, fighting our silent battles and yet being able to show up and play our role.

Yes, all the world is just a stage, as the famous bard said. 

Start again! - the story of my macrame curtain

This macrame doorway curtain was an ambitious project as it is the biggest I've ever attempted till now. It took me two weeks to complete it and I loved the way it turned out. However the rod, which is adjustable, and which was supposed to be fixed on to the wall, did not stay for long and after two weeks of display it came down.

Disappointed but still determined to hoist it up again, I took some additional measures of using a double sided tape which would help the ends stick to the wall. And so it went up  again. It held promise for a few more weeks till one night it came down again. 

This time, I decided to consult my friend who  has a "curtain" business. I wanted to know if I had made a mistake in getting the adjustable, no-nails rod. He suggested that I buy inexpensive wall fasteners online and take care to clean the wall before I fix them. That was exactly what I did. I bought the wall  fasteners and fixed them with great care, cleaning the wall first with alcohol and waiting for 24 hours for the adhesive to work effectively before placing the macrame curtain again. This time, it lasted a greater number of weeks until once again I saw it on the floor when I woke up one morning. 

I thought it was really curtains down, and felt very very disappointed. I thought of the moment I proudly took pictures of it and posted it on my social media and got so many appreciative comments about it. Little do people know the frustrations associated  with it. Apart from not having a display  anymore, I worried that I now had this massive amount of rope on my hands. 

Then I examined the damage. The plastic outer fastener that held the rod had got detached from the plastic on the wall, but it wasn't broken so it could be fixed back with a strong adhesive. In fact the packet that the fasteners came in had an extra tube of glue. This I used to help stick back the outer plastic piece. Now it is up again much to my delight and satisfaction.

I couldn't help singing the Hindi song : 

Yeh jo chilman hai, dushman hai hamari.

(This curtain, is such an enemy of mine)

It also reminded me of the story of the Scottish King Robert Bruce who after being defeated in war with the English, went into hiding in some caves. There he drew inspiration from a spider spinning its web. He watched the number of times the spider tried and failed, till it finally succeeded in spinning its web. There is a lesson in it for all of us as well as Robert Bruce, who went back to war with renewed energy and spirit and was victorious. 

And of course Goenkaji's sonorous voice asking us to "Start again" at the meditation retreats was a great reminder to leave the past unsuccessful attempts and press forward with renewed vigour. I hope I am successful this time and the curtain doesn't come crashing again. 

But then even if it does, I will start again. Down maybe but never out. 

When the sun set

 Memories fade with time. Especially of people who depart early in your life. Year 1980, the month of August, the month of celebrations. Our family had 2 birthdays coming up. One was my father's, a fiery man, given to quick temper, and my sister Jaishri, who inherited some of his characteristics. We didn't really celebrate our father's birthday. My mother probably would have made payasam (sweet) but my parents never celebrated their birthdays. August 15th came before my sister's birthday and I clearly remember her dressing up to go out, telling me casually that the speech she wrote for a student came really from her heart. (She wrote for students who were asked to give speeches for India's Independence Day.)

August 18th was her birthday and so on the morning of 17th , a Sunday, she was busy stitching a fall for her sari that she was going to wear to work the next day. The music strains of Kamakshi suprabhatam & other songs of MS Subbalakshmi still ring fresh in my ears. We had the LP record at home which she had bought from her salary. These were unusual things those days. We lived frugally, my parents saving every rupee for our future, that is, our marriages. Spending them on entertainment was not normally done. Spending on entertainment was a waste of money. But Jaishri insisted. Marriage can wait, she would say, let's live our life in the meantime.

How very characteristic of her! Strong-willed, with revolutionary ideas, her thinking and reasoning was far ahead of her time, something that my parents couldn't quite handle. What would invariably ensue was a war of words, of which I was a silent spectator. I admired her. She was strong and fearless, determined and brave. In fact my friends would say that she totally dominated me, that I hardly had a voice of my own. 

I digress, it was the 17th of August; sari fall stitching done, lunch eaten, her classmate from German class came over to study with her for the upcoming test they had. Jaishri was a lecturer in a Junior College and attended German classes once or twice a week. We lived in a two-room kitchen those days. Everything happened in those 2 rooms: Jaishri studying with her friend, and my mother cooking furiously a whole lot of curry pastes and chutneys to last us the next week as she would be busy at work. In addition we had an aunt dropping by with her friend. Sundays were always abuzz with activity. 

I was dressed in a nylon "half sari" and Jaishri teased me that the colour was so bright that I could easily be mistaken for the religious procession of "Mahankali" celebrated with gusto in those days.

Cauliflower figured in every meal we ate that day. My mother planned to finish cooking the night's dinner too and by 6 pm we went to the terrace to relax. Before that, Jaishri changed into a nylon sari that she rarely wore, just to walk her friend to the bus stop, after their studies were done for the day. Unable to bear her teasing, I changed into cotton trousers and shirt in the evening.

Standing on veranda of our house, I remember watching her return home after seeing her friend off at the bus stop. Some memories just don't go away. I wanted to talk to her. I always loved talking to her.  I felt inspired, something to ponder about always. We went up to the terrace first and she spotted a neighbour on her terrace and went over to chit chat with her, while I waited for her patiently. But it so happened that the neighbour had to leave soon, much to my delight and we sat together and talked. 

"Wait a minute," she said, peering at my face. "The sun looks beautiful reflected on your glasses." The sun was setting, unknown to us, in so many ways that day.

My parents had come up to the terrace by then. And suddenly my mother called out to me to go down and check if she had switched the stove off after cooking. I went down and checked. Yes, there was a small lamp burning at the altar in the kitchen. The gas stove switched off. Nothing amiss, I returned to the terrace. Jaishri sniffed again and said .. I smell gas, and we went down, she ahead of me. She opened the kitchen door and we were surprised to find the rubber tube of the stove had slipped and fallen on the ground and there was smell of gas everywhere.

She ran in, bent down and closed the cylinder, one hand covering her nose with pallu of her sari. "Quick", she said, "Open the window." It was one command that I wish I hadn't obeyed. I usually listened to everything she asked me to do. I wish I didn't on that day. But no, I did, I opened the window. The strong gush of air, deflected the gas to the corner where the lamp was burning at the altar and Boom! a loud noise and fire.

We didn't know what hit us at that moment. She did the correct things didn't she? Closed the cylinder, asked me to open the windows, but we didn't think there would be that much gas collected in the room. I turned around and found the room on fire, in clouds formed by the gas. I was scared as now I would have to cross the fire to get to the other side, to the  door. Jaishri was at the door waiting for me, unmindful of the fact that her sari had caught fire and it was a nylon sari. I wish she had removed the sari, instead she rolled on the ground, with the sari sticking to her as she rolled.

People say accidents are caused they don't happen. I am still baffled at the way things unfolded on that fateful day. I wish I could turn the clock back as I have wished so many times in the years that followed. I wish I hadn't opened the window, I wish I had put out the flame before I did. It was as if a strong wind of death blew into our house to take her away.

She was rushed to the hospital where she battled bravely for two days and gave up. When she was conscious she asked for me and was surprised that I wasn't injured much. I did have a few burns on my arm and feet but nothing serious.

And so she left us exactly 25 years after her birth in this world. I knew her for 17 years and the last six years of her life was the time I was really close to her. I avoid talking of this accident as not everyone understands what we went through on that day. How unexpected things were, how at every turn we were taken by surprise. As with most unnatural deaths, people would speculate so many theories. All those were and are still painful to listen to, especially as I was there with her and know what happened.

She was special. I wished she had lived longer to realize her dreams, for she had dreams. Dreams of going to the US doing research in cellular biology. Earning a name for herself in scientific discipline.

She would tell me a life lived well, matters. For this I need to have clarity in my goals, and an ambition, a striving towards perfection. To be intensely interested in every little piece of work that I undertake and do my best and excel in  it. She shaped my thoughts & aspirations in many ways. 

Very often, I mentally inform her of my small achievements, and hope I have made her proud.

"In the world's broad field of battle,

In the bivouac of Life,

Be not like dumb, driven cattle!

Be a hero in the strife!"

This was one of her favourite lines from "The Psalm of Life" by H.W Longfellow 

That was how she lived and urged me to do as well.

What's in a name?

 My name is Radhi. Just two syllables. Easy to pronounce. Or so I think. A lot of people do not have a problem with it. But some do. And I am quite intrigued at their questions and unwillingness to call me by that name. Some even choose to rename me because of their non-acceptance of it.

Yes, my mother named me Radhika, she told me. However, my sister who is 12 years older than me was impressed with a name Radhi Sittampalam, a Sinhalese ex-student of the school she went to (and later I) and so I got the name Radhi. My parents did not mind it and when I was registered in school it was as Radhi Kannan, Kannan being my father's name.

So that was how I was called right through school. In Junior College I remember once a senior chided a boy for calling me Radhi, instead of what she thought was Radhika, and he was thus being "disrespectful" of me. I clarified that it was indeed Radhi. She looked puzzled but did not say anymore.

Then came undergraduate admissions and I remember the lady at the counter suddenly insisting I give my actual name and not a shortened version. I asserted it was my real name: Radhi Kannan. She looked over at her colleague and asked her if she had ever come across a name Radhi. The other lady shook her head  and said no, it is usually Radhika or Radha... not Radhi. However, as my school records did have it as Radhi, they couldn't do anything except be puzzled by it. So for fun, I simply thought up a reason: I told them that if it was Radhika followed by Kannan, there would be a "Ka" that was repeated. So, for brevity, it was Radhi. They were very pleased with that explanation and we all had a good laugh.

The next encounter was when I got married. While wedding cards were sent for printing, those that went forth for my in-laws, had Radhika on them and the ones that were printed by my parents had Radhi on them. In fact, my mother-in law initially called me Radhika, and later had no problems changing to Radhi after she realized that it was my name.

The strangest encounter was with a colleague I was working with. She would always call me Radhe. Initially I thought she hadn't got my name correct, so I explicitly told her it was Radhi and not Radhe. She said she knew, but she felt and thought that Radhi is not a name so she called me by the name that made sense to her. Isn't that weird? Can anyone randomly change someone's name like that? You are referring to a person right? A person with an identity, and a name that represents it? Well, our meetings were few, and I did not wish to make it an issue at that time.

I met an Indian Vipassana teacher at Kuantan, Malaysia. I was co-conducting a course with him. He told me that he was very puzzled when he was informed that "Radhi Raja" from Singapore would be the co-conducting teacher. He told me that no Indian can have a name "Radhi". Something is wrong here, he said, either she is not an Indian, or her name is not Radhi. The organizers have made a mistake. 

When I clarified my name was indeed, Radhi he refused to accept it. How can that be? You must have changed it. Radhi doesn't mean anything you see! 🙍

One interesting confusion I need to highlight is that a lot of Tamilians take my name to be Rathi. This is probably due to the spelling for both Radhi and Rathi in Tamil script  is the same. Probably the Sinhalese girl whom I was named after was also Rathi? 

But no, I would rather prefer to be called Radhika to Rathi. After all, Radhika was what my mother named me initially right?

But really coming to Shakesperes' famous quote: "What's in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet." It will be good if people just accepted a name the way the person owning it wishes to be addressed.

Swimming: A form of meditation

 It is strange, but I have started noticing how swimming is a form of meditation. Especially swimming the breaststroke, which can be done slowly & purposively.

The other day, I recalled something from the distant past and was full of resentment about a person, as walked to the pool. When I started swimming, something changed. As I felt the cool water all around me and my head went down and I started to glide I wondered how these thoughts take possession of me and upset me. It seemed like something just gripped my mind and was unwilling to let go. As I kept observing my thoughts and kept coming up for my breath and going down again, I realised that I can let go of these thoughts of the distant past that were so unpleasant. Does it really matter what the person did or said? Do I have to carry that resentment? Of what use or purpose did it serve? 

This is what I have experienced in meditation too. Many times thoughts would surface, unpleasant thoughts and I would be overcome by them, till I re focused on my breath--this moment, this breath, this sensation. And there is that calmness that slowly descends on me, returning me to the present moment. This is all that we have. This moment, this breath. 

Swimming is a kind of meditation for me. It helps me stay in the moment, focus on my breath, feel the sensations in the body as I move, pushing through the water. In the beginning, my only objective was to reach the other end of the pool. So I would furiously do my breaststroke with sole intention of quickly reaching the other side. 

So it was when I first started to meditate my one hour sitting. Hardly 10 minutes into the hour I would start wondering how long more should I sit here? When will the hour end? Gradually I realised  what it was to focus on my breath and pay attention to the sensations I experienced as I sat there. The hour eventually passed by. It took me  sometime to realise the importance of moment-to-moment awareness. This moment is all that we have and it is so important to keep our mind steadfast in the present. 

I am now doing the same with swimming, enjoying the moment to moment movement through the pool--- the pull, the bubbles, the kick and the glide and eventually I am bound to reach the other end. 

In fact, I have started noticing that even when I cook, I would keep thinking that I should finish it quickly and get on to the other things that I want to do. My eyes on the clock to quickly have this chore out of my way. As I started observing this, I started to let go to get to the other side of things. Instead, to become fully aware of the moment and do things more and more mindfully, meditatively. 

Surrender to the present moment. There is joy and satisfaction in doing so. For  as you truly live and experience each moment, more harmony and peace envelops you.

A late bloomer

That is me : A late bloomer. Recalling my early childhood days, the things I loved to do was play...I remember that one activity that I enjoyed. I think I was good in school till about 4th grade and then began a slow decline. Difficulties in getting good grades were exacerbated by a slow failing eyesight which my parents thought I was malingering. The poor performance in turn led to lack of motivation to even try. I gave up. I was stupid...why should I prove otherwise? 

When you are young, and parents and older sisters do most of the things for you, you can get away being irresponsible. I didn't even understand why I went to school or why I had to study. 

Some things that my mother told me stuck to me and proved to be a turning point in my academic pursuits.  She pleaded with me to do well in Junior College and later in my undergraduation and said she would no longer comment on my academic performance thereafter. I overheard her telling my dad that it would be a great achievement if I got past undergraduation. 

I trained to be a teacher after that and got really interested in Psychology. My parents were not happy about my interest in doing a Masters in Psychology and they thought I should get married instead. And then I went through this traditional arranged marriage but not before I found out from Raja (my then to-be husband) that he was ok about my continuing my studies.

Newly married,  life was different. We lived in Mumbai, I enrolled for Masters in Psychology at SNDT University Churchgate and I loved my life. I was really interested in academic activities, actively participated in all of them.  Pavithra was born, we moved to Hyderabad and I continued to do my MPhil (Pre-PhD course) against all odds--I was working, studying & was pregnant again. But I did it , and did it very well. Akanksha was born and I completed MPhil  successfully. 

We moved to Chennai and there I met my very inspiring Research Scientist and yoga practioner, who was later my guide for PhD. I completed that too, in between working & raising my children.

Then the move to Singapore. I continued to work as Adjunct Lecturer, first at Unisim (now SUSS) and then at University at Buffalo (Singapore campus) and I work there till this day.

It was Osho who once said: If you don't have breakfast you are going to be hungry at lunch and if you don't have lunch you will be ravenous at dinner. He was referring to childhood, adulthood and old age when he said that. 

I never paid attention to sports or sporting activities when I was a child or young adult. And now post 55yrs I have taken to badminton in right earnest. I train twice a week and enjoy the activity. I learned to swim recently and swim the breaststroke regularly. It has become my morning workout regimen. 

People who have known me in my younger days are surprised and I love that look of surprise on their faces. I sure have come a long way and feel its my inherent  zest  for life that I inherited from my mother that has stood me well . 

Enthusiasm & a zest for life makes life worth living.

The year that was 2020 and now this far.

Sometime in the beginning of 2020 we heard of a virus affecting people in China. When I heard of it, I was reminded of the SARS epidemic in  2002 and the stringent measures taken by the Singapore government to arrest its spread. I was confident we would be safe as we were then.

So sometime end of March 2020 when we were asked to plan our lectures to present them online to students, I felt it would be only a temporary one and we would soon be back to classroom instructions. Initially I struggled to teach Statistics online as I was not really prepared with the gadgets that may be required. I used my phone, laptop, social media, juggling between them to conduct my classes. 

Being a meditation instructor, I was asked to conduct meditation sessions online as well, though that was easier than conducting Statistics classes online. Then came the end semester break and as I was not teaching in summer I had a fairly long break of 4 months. I had planned to go for my 45 day Vipassana meditation course in June-July but that was cancelled due to the Covid pandemic. 

I am not sure if it was the years of practising meditation that I stayed calm and equanimous through all these unexpected change in plans. I did a 10 day self course at home and it was very energizing and successful. I cooked the meals and meditated according to schedule.

I love staying at home. I seldom get bored with being at home. I have number of interests. I draw, sketch, paint, crochet, do macrame, read, play scrabble online, do jigsaw puzzles online, upcycle waste boxes, decoupage ..the list is endless. How can anyone be bored at home is just beyond my comprehension.

This doesn't mean I don't like being out doors. I love to cycle and sometimes go for walks. I would travel a lot between semesters to Malaysia and India to either sit for meditation courses or conduct them. Home is where the heart is and these places I travelled to were places I enjoyed going to. 

The sports activities I picked up this last year were badminton which I started playing since October 2020 and swimming which I started in February 2021. I enjoy them both, particularly swimming which I initially thought I was too old to learn.

I look forward to each day to either play badminton or to swim, either practising on my own or being coached by the instructor. The other major learning experience was baking bread at home...gluten free, vegan bread. Healthy bread that I practised and mastered the art by following some recipes and then tweaking a little to suit my convenience & taste.

I do occasionally long to visit my sister in Mumbai who lives there alone. I wish we were together in one place or house. But not yet. India is going through its second wave of covid and it's sad to hear people suffering and normal life restricted. 

I don't know if I am just lucky. But I wonder at all these new words that are going around to describe our mental state ...languishing is one such I came across today. I don't think I am languishing. Yes, my life has changed, but I continue to do interesting things. I am with the flow. "Flow" that brilliant concept that Mihaly Csikszentmihaly introduced us to years ago, to be fully immersed in what you are doing such that nothing else really matters. It is a totally happy state to be in. 

Yes, there is always something you are not happy with , and right now it's the pandemic and not being able to visit my sister. But depressed ? No ..Languishing? No. 

Werner Erhard's quotes come to mind "What is, is; What isn't, isn't."

"Happiness is a function of acceptance of what is" 

A Sanskrit prayer for the well being of all in this world:

सर्वे भवन्तु सुखिनः

सर्वे सन्तु निरामया

सर्वे भद्राणि पश्यन्तु

मा कष्च्ति दुःखभाग्भवेत

ओं  शांतिः शांतिः शांतिः

"Mind as healer, Mind as Slayer": Replacing fear with curiosity

"Mind as healer, the mind as slayer": I have read this Kenneth Pelletier book, way back in 1998 when I was studying for my PhD program. This catchy title has always been with me in my memories whenever I deal with challenges. It just takes a little impatience to go off balance and panic in the face of impending danger, and in contrast, it takes just a little practice to remain observant, calm under stress and stay on top of it. 

In my Statistics classes, I urge students to close their eyes and be with their breath for a few minutes before they write their test. I tell them a calm mind helps to solve the most complex problems. A calm mind helps us in so many ways. I urge them to develop curiosity of numbers not fear. I share with them my own experience of learning something as new as swimming.

I never thought I would learn to swim. I thought if you did not learn it when young, you have lost your chance. And then I was diagnosed with Chronic Venous Insufficiency (CVI) and read that swimming was a good exercise to help the blood circulation. I got to know there were swimming classes in the pool in the condominium I live in. I was curious and joined the class. I asked my coach if a person of my age can learn swimming. In reply, he told me he once taught a 90 year old lady to swim. I definitely did not want to wait that long.

The coach began with doing a few stretches before we entered the pool. Then we entered the shallow part of the pool and spent a few minutes getting used to the water. The first major exercise was to learn to blow bubbles under water. I struggled to learn this. Initially, I would simply hold my breath under water. This served my immediate purpose, but of course it wasn't the most efficient one. It just took a lot of practice. A lot of practice. Plenty of practice. And finally I got it. I learned to breathe out under water. To blow bubbles in water. 

Having achieved this milestone, I could easily glide face-down underwater and move a certain distance, then I would stop, stand up for breath and resume again. I did this for quite a few days. My coach meanwhile introduced me little by little the next task, to learn to kick like a frog. She was going to teach me the breaststroke. She taught me in a number of ways how to kick. It was fine when she was there, but I could not do it on my own. So I started watching youtube videos. There are plenty of instruction videos on learning the breaststroke. These helped me so much as I could picture the strokes in my mind and that helped translate into actual kicking.

The coaches were very good and taught me a few ways to relax in the pool by floating. I would keep my head on the edge of the pool and look up at the sky. This was one of the most relaxing exercises in the pool. It helped get used to the water, to trust it. To learn not to panic. The coach also taught me to bring my knees together and lift myself up for breath anytime I felt unsure of myself. This was extremely helpful.

Learning to kick, and then learning to pull with the arms were the next part of the coaching. Finally the sequence of pull, breathe, kick & glide for many lessons helped me improve my muscle memory. There were moments, when I forgot, swallowed water, forgot to breathe or let the water into my nose.

 

But then you start again and practise till you get it. The euphoria you feel at the end is certainly worth the effort. It took me exactly 2 months to swim independently. And it is only the beginning; there are a few other strokes I plan to learn. Replacing fear with curiosity has helped me go far in learning new skills.

Swimology: My swimming journey

 My respected meditation teacher Goenkaji tells us a story, "Swimology", during the 10 day Vipassana course. The story goes like this: There was once a very learned, erudite Professor who was travelling by sea. Learned as he was, every evening he lectured to his co-voyagers extensively on many of the curious things of life, demonstrating his wide, in-depth knowledge and expertise. An old sailor who worked on the ship was very impressed with the Professor and would attend his daily lectures regularly. One evening the Professor chanced upon him as he was leaving, and called out to him asking if he knows anything about Geology? The old man replied in the negative, nervously. The Professor said, "What? You know nothing about the earth you live on? Old man, you have wasted a quarter of your life!" The old man shook his head sadly and left. 

The next day, after the lecture, as the old man was cleaning up the place, the Professor called out to him and asked: "Old man, do you know anything about Meteorology? " Again the old man sadly shook his head, and asked "What is that sir?" The Professor replied, "Oh it is the science of the weather. Old man, you do not know anything about Geology, the science of the earth you live on; you do not know anything about the weather your ship is subjected to, you have wasted half of your life." The old man was indeed sad: the learned Professor says he has lost half his life, it must be true, what has he done that is worthwhile?

The third day dawned, and again after an enlightening lecture, the Professor called the old man and asked: "Old man, do you know anything about Oceanology, the science of the oceans?" The old man again replied, "No sir, I do not know anything, I never went to school at all!" Surprised, the Professor told him with a laugh: "You useless old man, you do not know anything about Geology, the earth you live on, you do not know Meteorology, the science of the weather you are subjected to, you do not know anything about  Oceanology, the science of the sea you are travelling on, you have lost three quarters of your life!" The old man left sadly.

The next day, the old man came running to the Professor and asked, "Professor sir! Professor sir! Do you know Swimology, sir?" Surprised, the Professor asked "Swimology? What is that? I have never heard of it!" The old man exclaimed: "Oh no sir! Then your whole life is wasted. The ship has just hit a rock and is sinking; those who can swim, can reach the shore, I am so sorry sir, your life is wasted!"

We may learn all the "logies" of the world, but if we do not know to swim the ocean of life, our lives are truly wasted. 

I love this story,  for its deep philosophical meaning and the more I listened to it course after course, I pondered over the idea of learning to swim. I thought I could never learn it. I hadn't come across any adult learning to swim and mastering it.

With age, I developed age-related medical issues and suffered from Chronic Venous Insufficiency.  This means that I had varicose veins which prevented the smooth return of the blood from the legs to the heart during circulation. I resumed anti-gravity yoga exercises, and came to know that swimming would be a good exercise for this condition. So when I heard there were swimming classes for adults in the place I live, I joined them with a great deal of hesitation & fear. 

Barely had I gotten over my initial fear of water when I developed severe ulcers on my feet, forcing me to abandon my grand plans to learn swimming. It took me two years to recover, more yoga and a long 30 day course in meditation and I was now again ready to resume my classes. 

So it was on the 9th of February 2021, with some hesitation and mild fears again, I resumed my swimming lessons. I practised diligently. My first milestone was being able to put my head in water and blow bubbles--basically breathing out in water. That helped me glide smoothly for a certain distance. Besides learning from the coach once a week, I would go to the pool on my own on other days just to practice what I knew to do, getting a feel of the water and becoming comfortable in it. Resting my head on the edge of the pool, face upward towards the sky and floating was the most relaxing activity I would do.

Then came learning the breaststroke. After being introduced to it I watched countless videos on youtube to reinforce my learning on how to best time myself, how to kick, how to synchronize the pull-bubbles-kick-glide routine. The videos helped in developing my muscle memory. The coaches were excellent. And finally, today, the 13th of April, two months after my first class, I could swim without the tube, board or any kind of support from one end of the pool to the other.

An incredible achievement for me! 

Swimology at last!

Reflections

"the version of me you created in your mind is not my responsibility"

This quote has been doing the rounds on the internet & social media, with many people endorsing it, liking it & sharing, retweeting it  countless times. I did so too, as it rang an instant bell in my head and made me exclaim "how true!". 

Just a few days ago before I came across this quote, I went through an unpleasant situation at home when my husband and daughter said they were afraid to say anything to me as I tended to react with anger and hostility. I was distressed, and as I took time to understand this "feedback" from them I recognized that I was similarly evaluating others and felt I was correct in doing so.

So many times we make a quick evaluation of people we meet : He is very hyper, she is too sensitive, he is too impulsive etc. 

We think we "know" people. But do we? 

For that matter, do we know ourselves at all? Actually the only person we have lived with all our lives is ourself. Yet, do we really know ourselves truly? I might think "I am a calm person" but that is true only till I lose my cool when provoked.

We seemed to have an image of ourselves, and of others and we are constantly reacting to these images. This is brought out so well in an interesting illustration by Shri S.N Goenka in the 10day Vipassana course in his  Day 9 discourse

We meet a person and like him very much. It's because in our perception (which is an evaluation of what we experience) he is very good, wonderful , helpful and makes us happy. We meet him after a gap of few years and that image of his good persona comes to mind. If he acts different from our image of him, we become so unhappy , unable to comprehend what went wrong in our impression of him. 

Similarly we keep forming images of everyone around us including our own selves and keep reacting to these images based on our evaluations. If we just pause and think that it's only our perception that helped build that image, we would come closer to the reality that each of us change and grow every minute. The so called "obnoxious" person was so only because of our perception of him, he may have a good side to him, and just because we did not see that good side does not mean it does not exist.

We all have different facets to ourselves, some visible and some hidden and it would help us a lot if we did not make harsh assumptions and evaluations of others, as these are based only on our limited experience of the individuals we come across. The truth of what the person really is, would be much more than what we are aware of.

To the person who is at the receiving end of the evaluation, like me at the start of this blog, it would be good to pause and get in touch with our inner self and not get distressed  but look at the evaluation more  objectively.  Develop our equanimity and continue our practice daily.

Books and the stories behind them Part 3

I would like to pause here to think why I write this blog? Is reading important? Yes it is, it develops your vocabulary, your expression and an opportunity to immerse yourself  in language and literature. It can shape your thinking, and provide solace & encouragement at times. 

"Man's mind stretched by a new idea never goes back to it's original dimension"  This quote by Oliver Wendall Holmes was in a book that was gifted to me. 

Which is what a whole lot of "self-help" books did for me in my teens. Wayne Dyer's "Your Erroneous Zones" taught me how not to procrastinate and in general understand & manage my emotions.Presented along with case study examples they made reading interesting.

Of course I don't remember much of the details in the book. I remember it did impact my thinking and helped me learn a few good habits. I loved Wayne Dyer; infact in one of his books that I read much later when I had kids of my own, he candidly admits to the failure of some theories of raising children.

He says, quoting someone else, "I once had 7 different theories for raising successful children when I had no children, now I have 7 children and no theories" hahaha!  I could relate to that very well.

My sister's friend was clearing out his library as they were moving to another city and she brought home a few books. Among them was Thomas Harris : "I'm OK , You're OK".  A book on transactional analysis, made a very interesting reading. We each have a Parent, Adult & Child that transacts with each other and problems arise when the transactions get crossed. 

Then there was Dale Carnegie's " How to make friends and Influence people" and "How to stop worrying and Start living"..

These books were interesting, however I am not sure if my habits or for that matter I, really changed after reading them. They were undoubtedly good to read, so I read them.

It was my lecturer in Psychology who first mentioned Richard Bach's Illusions to me. 

"Argue for your limitations, and sure enough they are yours" she said one day, quoting from the book. I wanted to read the book, and it wasn't until  I got married, moved to Mumbai that I was thrilled to see it with my husband's collection of books. I devoured every page of that book, read and re-read multiple times.. quoted from it  backward and forward..well almost. I find the Messiah's quotes uplifting even today. The only other book that is similar to this is, "The Book of Mirdad" by Mikhail Naimly. I would need a separate blog to talk about Mirdad though.

After "Illusions", I was high on Bach: "Jonathan Livingstone Seagull", "The Bridge Across Forever" and "One". "Bridge Across.. was his meeting his soulmate Leslie Parish and it seemed like the most ideal relationship. And interestingly we read it (Raja, my husband & I) almost together and were quite excited with the book. It made us feel that we were soul mates too. :). Recent googling of Bach, held the news that he and Leslie parted ways and he remarried the third time. While Raja & I have not parted ways, it is quite interesting to note that a relationship this close can be subject to many challenges and the way you view or experience it can be different.

Raja brought home a good many interesting books from the L& T library (L & T was his place of work). One great book was Will Schutz's "Profound Simplicity"

Will Schutz was the pioneer of FIRO -B. Fundamental Interpersonal Relations Orientation. 

Interpersonal relations is measured across 3 factors: Inclusion , Control & Affection , measured in 2 dimensions each : felt (wanted) & expressed. His theory, I learned much later, but Profound Simplicity for the first time urged me to behave and live responsibly, especially in the area of personal health. The key message I took away from the book and which played a significant role in my life was... become aware of your psychological needs. The more aware you are of them the less likely you are to suffer illnesses. He traces major illnesses of people to their general emotional needs and how the illness is an expression of the psychological need.

Powerful book ...to me, life changing.

To continue...

Books and the stories behind them Part 2

Memories of the time spent in British Council Library are numerous. It was close to my dad's workplace. It was his after -retirement  workplace and he would insist that I match my visits there (to BCL) to his office timings so that he could pick me up or drop me there on his scooter. My protests would go unheeded and I sometimes missed going to BCL with my friends as a result of this. But that's a different story reserved for another blog.

Coming back to the books I borrowed and read from BCL Winston Graham comes to mind. Recently when I googled him, I found that he is better known for his Poldark series, but it was his other novels that I avidly read.

Marnie, After the Act, The Sleeping Partner, Cordelia and more... the titles are hazy. My friends at that time were into Mills & Boon and one of them thought I had no idea of what romantic stories was about. Till one day she took a Graham novel to read from me and came back totally flabbergasted. She said she was shocked at the storyline and more surprised that a serious person like me who read only classics would read such literature.

While she could do that, M & B were strictly forbidden at home. They were considered sleaze. I was so curious about them that a friend in school gave me one to read reassuring me that there were "good" ones too. She was a topper in class and I was convinced. But yet had to hide the book from my parents & read. Soon I gave up, reading something in fear of being caught was just not worth it. I could hardly get past a few pages.

I wept reading some books... the one I clearly remember was A J Cronin's " The Spanish Gardener" . It was a sad tale of an over strict father getting his son to a psychiatrist because the boy formed a special bond of friendship with a Spanish Gardener who worked for them. At some point of the book I remember putting it down and having a good cry.

Around this time due to the untimely, sudden death of my sister, I was drawn to books that could offer  solace and meaning to the grief I was experiencing. I read a lot of poems of Shelley and even read about his life in detail. Hesse's Narcissus and Goldmund was another memorable one. It briefly introduced me to the teachings of the Buddha & meditation practices. Curious about meditation I read J Krishnamurthi with great interest, thoroughly intrigued with the occult practices in  the Theosophical Society. I remember poring over Krishnamurthi's Notebook that I found at BCL

Krishnamurthi was not exactly welcome at home with my parents, strange it was , as they would permit my sisters to read him.

I remember having serious intense discussions with a friend at that time on whether Hesse was or had inclinations towards homosexuality. According to her, his writings clearly gave that impression - that he was inclined towards it but suppressed it. And a man who was so suppressed had nothing much to offer. She also introduced me to William Golding's Lord of the flies.  I struggled to read it, unable to accept that little kids could turn so violent and become cannibals. 

One book that stands out towards the end of my teens is "Dibs: In search of Self" by Virginia Axline. It was heavy reading.. A true life tale of a boy labelled autistic & retarded, who through the process of play therapy is able to work out his emotional relations with his parents and find his authentic self. He goes on to have an  IQ of 168 (genius) at the end of the therapy sessions with Axline.

That book left a remarkable impression on me and till today it is a must- read for all my students in Psychology classes that I teach. It was also a book that helped me decide what course of study I would pursue for my Masters  degree. 

To continue..

Books and the stories behind them (Part 1)

I can't really remember when I started reading books or whether I particularly loved reading them. We had an hour each week for library in school and it was there that I started reading books by Enid Blyton. I loved them and looked forward to that time each week. 

My scholarly, erudite sisters read a great deal of classics such as Thomas Hardy, Jane Austen, Charlotte Bronte and ofcourse we had the Complete Works of Shakespeare. There was Oliver Goldsmith too...how can I forget "The Vicar of Wakefield" that I valiantly tried read or was forced to read. These books didn't particularly rouse my reading interest the way books by Enid Blyton did, but they were the kind of books good children from good families were supposed to read. My dad would eloquently talk of the richness of Goldsmith's writing and would read to me Shakespeare plays as well.

What caught my interest though, was my sister's penchant to act out a few lines from various plays of Shakespeare. The long, boring summer holidays were interspersed with learning some very interesting speeches by heart and reciting them like a theater artist would. I remember them fondly to this day and on occasions entertain my family with them. 

My memory goes back to 6th grade, when during the summer holidays my sister introduced me to Charles Dickens "A tale of two cities" It was difficult reading but interesting in parts. I learned about the French revolution, the guillotine (still sends a shiver down my spine to think people were executed in that gruesome way), Madame Defarge & her knitting, and unforgettable Sidney Carton. Sidney Carton has a special place in my memory as I answered a quiz question on him soon after school reopened. More than getting the answer right & scoring a point, I still remember the look of bewilderment & disbelief in my classmates face that I, a back bencher and no gooder in studies got the answer right. 

Then came the days of the British Council Library that opened its branch in Hyderabad. The rich collection of books I was introduced to there!! Somerset Maugham entered my life for sometime.. Moon & Sixpence, Razor's Edge, Of Human Bondage, Mrs Craddock.

Then it was George Orwell and I remember being impressed with his  "Keep the Aspidistra flying" more than all the other books he is well known for.

Looking back I wonder if I remember the stories in these books. I remember I read them though. But not sure of their contents. Some stand out by the richness of their content. Keep the Aspidistra flying shook me up, made me think & contemplate on how important money was. But memories of some other books fade or have become blurred.

(To be continued)

 

The girl I knew in School

It was probably 1975. I was in 8th grade in high school. There was an exam coming up on Monday and I was clueless. I didn't know what was going to be tested or what I had to study. My sister, Jaishri asks me to contact classmates who might know but I don't have their contacts. Exasperated, she asks me to name atleast one topper in the class. I say Vanita Luthra, her parents were doctors. With this information, Jaishri took me to the neighbours house to get this girl's number from the phone directory, to contact her.

Jaishri was my gaurdian, being much older than me. She stepped into this role after my elder sister Malathy got married & left home in 1974. I had a huge problem of myopia and no glasses.. but that is a different long story. The point is I was clueless about the exam, and it had to be fixed. We did not have a phone, and our neighbours' was one of the few families in the neighbourhood that had one.

We got the number, dialed, and Jaishri asked me to speak to Vanita. But I was terrified. I had a poor opinion of myself, timid, scared of everything especially related to people & school. Aggravated with poor eyesight, life then was a big blur. So Jaishri ended up speaking to Vanita. Vanita was most helpful. Not only did she give a comprehensive idea of the exam, she even dictated her personal notes she made from her referencing in the school library. The girl was truly on top of everything. She knew it. And so willing to share. Amazing!

Jaishri gave me that glare... Look at you!!! And look at this amazing girl!!

I don't remember how I fared in the exam, but I remember Vanita telling me she enjoyed speaking to my sister. She asked if I needed more help.. and to ask her if I did. I didn't have to press for my sister's assistance she said.

I rarely initiated conversation with her or anybody for that matter in school. I was overcome with confusion and fear and could rarely make sense of what was going on.

There were flashes of brilliance though. Like when I scored 9/10 in a topic of Simple Pendulum when Vanita scored only 5. I remember she wanted to know where she lost marks and asked the teacher  how marks were allocated and graded.  How did she know all this? To monitor her performance? To care about tests and exams? 

Vanita was sweet & kind to me. We went our separate ways after school and I heard she joined Thangam Phillip institute of cookery & hospitality in Mumbai. I was surprised at her career choice.. but never got in touch with her again.

Till a chance google search on people who influenced me, I came across this horrific article that said she jumped off the 23rd floor of a building in Versova, Mumbai in December 2018. It said she had a jewelry business going. I am shocked and distressed.

I regret not reaching out to her in these years past. Just to tell her how much her kindness, support, generosity & exuberance touched me. Perhaps the only true connection in the general blur of high school. How aweinspiring she had been, how I wished to emulate her in school! Would it have made a difference to her decision?

A day at home March 28th 2020

These are the days of pandemic ..the much heard & talked about Corona virus. Infact even when its silent everywhere and I am not with my handphone, my mind keeps chattering "corona virus, corona virus.." I wonder if there is anything else apart from this in this world. 

Well we need to go about the business of our daily lives, which has altered quite a bit. I have to get my course materials ready to be delivered online and therefore have to become more techsavvy. So there is plenty to learn each day.

Then the house has become more populated with family members getting in the way of each other. I need to schedule my class to be delivered from home, while Raja has to attend office work from home. Akanksha flits and floats in between worried about her article thats overdue. Earlier this morning was an avoidable altercation with Pavithra on coffee making amidst a sudden scare at the sight of an ambulance & police car in the opposite building.

My venous insufficiency (caused due to varicose veins) flared up in the midst of this disturbance to routine. Observe your mind state, advises my meditation guru. Yes, I have become a little more reactive than usual and maybe it is finding its outlet in dryness/oozing feet which feel like burning pin pricks now and then.

Raja offers to cook pulao for lunch and I look gratefully at him as I feel a spike of discomfort from my foot. He goes to the kitchen and asks .. Do you think I can do a round of laundry first? I say Ok . Minutes later he comes to show me the lint collected in the lint catcher of the machine. On another reactive day, I would have interepreted this as his criticism of my housekeeping skills..but not today. I just nodded my head in acknowledgement.

After a while he wanted cinnamon sticks.. so I went in to give it to him, then bay leaf. I had kept a couple of pieces in my easy to access masala box, so I told him where he could find it. But he was disappointed with the quantity. So I directed him to the fridge which had a full packet of them. Then he started a conversation of whether bay leaf had any aroma worth talking about.

Finally came the call for basmati rice! Where is it? The usual box in which it is kept was empty & he was now worried. Well there was enough in the box next to the usual basmati box but ofcourse, it required another trip to the kitchen by me to help him find it.

Meanwhile someone messages me about the all time high deaths in Italy. Well we all need to go sometime, somehow. I gaze at some of my artwork and recall the moments of joy they gave me as I was making them and as they do now adorning parts of my house.

This is why we need art. The patience we develop, the spaces of unhurriedness, the imperfections that teach you some lessons and the beauty that emanates, making life worthwhile. I settle down on my couch with my feet elevated to ease the discomfort to write my tale of today.

Back to Basics with Sabrina, vipassana teacher, a barefoot messiah

"Come, do the 30 day course at Dhamma Nagajjuna in April-May" she said with an air of finality that I found difficult to refuse. I have known Sabrina since my very first Vipassana Course in 1995, and she has been my inspiration on this path ever since.

I had registered for a 20 day course at Dhamma Thali, Jaipur in Jan-Feb 2019 and was wondering how I could do another long course so soon. Sabrina had a solution to that. Turn the Jaipur course into service (volunteering to help in the course) and attend the 30 day course.

So there I was in the extremely hot Hyderabad with temperatures soaring to 40-42 degrees Centigrade. The Dhamma hall is very intelligently built with no firm walls on the outside but rather a row of pillars covered on the outside with a mesh so as to prevent mosquitoes from entering the hall. Cross ventilation with a high ceiling ensured a good temperature in the hall even on a hottest day. Fans hanging from the ceiling were never used during the course. We meditated most of the day in the Pagoda cells and they were very hot as well--there are no fans in the cells and we meditate with the door closed.

I went to my teacher complaining about how hot it was and how much I was sweating and that it was difficult to stay still. She looked at me and smiled and said "Be happy that you are getting a steam bath for free" I don't go to steam baths I protested. She said it's good to sweat. Toxins get released from your body. Look at our lifestyles! We never allow the body to get rid of toxins the natural way and that's why we end up with so many illnesses.

When I signed up for the course I requested for a chowki (a low stool) as I wondered if I could sit cross legged on the floor due to my Chronic Venous Insufficiency. She again smiled allowed me for a day on the chowki and asked me to try sitting on the floor on the cushion cross legged, without my compression stockings. I was hesitant but she assured me that sitting cross legged would help in the circulation of blood in my legs. And finally this was the first course I meditated in the cell with the door shut.. bravely facing the fears that came up --the cells are small and dark and I never felt comfortable meditating there earlier times.

Another amazing thing she did was to walk barefoot in the mornings and evenings when it got relatively cooler. Earthing is important she said. Allow your feet to touch the earth and experience what it feels like.

There are no water coolers in the campus. Water is stored in mutkaas ( mud- earthen pots) that give us water at the right temperature to quench our thirst.

Sabrina is a one of a kind teacher--unusual and unique. Persuasive in a gentle way you know she has your welfare in mind. 

I progressed very well following most of her instructions---one major one was correcting my sitting posture--back straight and chin-up.

She urges one to follow a simple life that we have long forgotten and I even started sitting cross legged on the floor during breakfast and lunch.

The tough one was to walk barefoot--that still work in progress. :)

Amazing experience. So its back to basics  now.

My story : A Journey reflux

I was trying to think when did it all begin? When did these feet/legs of mine that did so much work change beyond recognition? Though not very regular, I used to go for a foot reflexology once in a way. I did yoga occasionally and meditation most regularly. Whatever problems I had with my feet those days, I believed were sankaras that were coming out and I observed them with equanimity. May be I was mistaken. Maybe they were the initial signs of what was to follow.

My earliest memory was in January -February 2016. The previous year I was using the em-tech machine for my arthritis. It is a machine that emits various forms of heat. Em tech Wellness centers are located in many places in Singapore and it is supposed to be very effective in curing or ameliorating many conditions. So impressed I was after trying out at the wellness center for one month that I bought one and started using it at home regularly.

Sometime in the end of January and beginning of February 2016 I noticed a rash on my left foot just below my toes. I went to my Ayurved doctor at Ayush and she gave me a cream and some medicines. Very soon my foot started becoming red and swollen and I suspected the area under my toes to be infected. I went to a skin specialist in Jurong Ketchil and he diagnosed it as Cellulitis and put me on a course of antibiotics. I recovered from it and from then on would regularly moisturize my feet. I stopped using the em-tech machine.

I had some intermittent problems thereafter with the foot which I would respond to with temporary remedies. I remember asking the doctor about the discoloration that had begun and his response was "You should be glad it is not on your face". A very unsympathetic and unprofessional response.  It wasn't until July 2017 that my feet screamed for attention again. I was sitting a 10day course in Dhamma Vipula, on Belapur Road, Mumbai and they were burning a lot making it difficult to sit through the course. Later in August that year I conducted a 10day course in Penang and had problems again.

I decided to visit the doctor at the polyclinic this time hoping there would be a better diagnosis and treatment for my aching, burning feet. He was the first doctor who said it might be due to varicose veins and compression stockings could be a possible solution. He gave me medicines for the immediate relief from pain and I looked up Guardian Medicals for over the counter compression socks and started using them. It was only much later that I learned there are many kinds of compression socks and I should have got the medical grade compression socks. Anyway to move on with the story..

I was wearing the compression socks regularly and to my dismay found I had a blister coming up. Problems seemed relentless and no sustained help available. I googled for doctors still under the impression that its probably a skin issue probably due to the use of em-tech machine. I found a doctor at Mt.Elizabeth and she told me I had an ulcer and taught me how to take care of it and nurse it back to normal. It took a long time to heal and meanwhile I was consulting doctor friends and everyone in the know for solutions. One doctor friend in Hyderabad did advise me to consult a vascular surgeon. I had not heard that specialization till then and was wondering how to get to one in Singapore. This was end of December 2017.

The ulcer healed finally and with great enthusiasm I earnestly began to learn swimming. But not for long as I started getting small ulcer type eruptions on my feet and also what I now know to be "atrophe blanche" where in the skin seems to split giving it a ridged appearance one stage before ulcer formation. I applied soframycin, an antibiotic cream I had got from India, along with some organic haldi (turmeric). There was some relief from the blister type of irritation. I decided to re-contact my Mt. E doctor but I got an appointment only for Jun13th 2018. I left for India in May 2018 after my Spring semester and consulted a doctor in Mumbai who re-affirmed that the issue was due to varicose veins. He gave me some ointments, but nothing really helped as very soon I had anothe ulcer coming up.

This ulcer was really painful as I could barely walk properly and was in constant pain. I looked up for a vascular surgeon at SGH as a private patient to get an earlier appointment. The Mt. E skin specialist suggested that I get a biopsy of the skin around the ulcer done at the National Skin Center and my appointment there was for the 8th of August..this was in June 2018. Through strange combination of incidents, I landed in  Ng Teng Fong Hospital, Jurong where I was admitted and suddenly I was taken seriously and all tests conducted swiftly.

Skin Biopsy report as well as Ultrasound Doppler test on my legs confirmed that I had venous insufficiency /venous reflux which meant that the blood that returns to the heart by the veins was not doing its job due to faulty vein valves. Therefore the blood returned to the feet thereby releasing free radicals and other proteins destroying the tissues and causing ulceration.

As the reflux was from both superficial as well as deep veins, surgery was not considered. Surgery is normally done only on the superficial veins and not the deep veins I was told. This surgery involves clipping and sealing off of the refluxing vein. Deep veins carry 95% of the blood back to heart and so it is too dangerous to perfom surgery on them.

 So now the solution was to wear compression bandages which would enable the blood to move upward in the correct direction. Once the ulcers healed I would have to wear compression stockings forever. Ofcourse, I can take them off if I am resting by keeping my feet elevated above the heart level.

Thus I continue getting on with life. One semester came and went and I pretty well got used to life with compression stockings. No more painful ulcers but the skin is dry & scaly and needs to be kept moisturized.

I used to look down on my feet before, now I look up to them more often 🙂