Friday, October 12, 2012

Three Mistakes of My Life - The Prospective, Retrospective, & Introspective Twist



Three Mistakes of My Life. This is the title of a book by Chetan Bhagat. I was on a plane ride flying from one city to another in India (Delhi to Bangalore, I think or other way around). A white guy in the aisle, looking for his seat, while I sat in mine, mentioned to me in passing, “What are they?”, referring to the title of the book in my hand. I smiled and said that I am still reading to find out. He then said, “No, what are yours?”, while still standing in aisle of the plane, as other passengers lagged behind at the entrance to the plane. 

I was taken aback for a second. Mistakes? I never think of my life in terms of mistakes, just lessons, I thought. I told him I don’t know, and asked him, “what about you?” He lightly sighed with a hint of regret in his tone, said “too many to count,” smiled, and walked to his seat, perhaps never to be seen again.

He left me with a question though: are there such things as mistakes in someone’s life? And if so, how can/should they be perceived. At an early age, I had molded myself to not focus on my mistakes, and direct my mind towards the lessons to be learned from my journey or path. Hence, those mistakes are not truly wrong turns in the course of my life, but the correct milestones necessary for my path, no matter where that path is headed.

There is somewhat of a circular logic and flaw in my argument, I realize. There is an underlying assumption here that the path that I am on is never wrong – it is never a mistake.  The seeming mistakes are a part of the ultimate correctness of things. Each “mistake” shapes my path, and that mistake is a mistake in the whole sense only if the underlying path can be considered a mistake.
We now come to the question of, can my path be a mistake? On a religious or faith level, I must believe that God or some type of Supreme Universal power is on my side always, and hence my path cannot be wrong. Now let us take a more pragmatic, agnostic approach. Assume that my path can be wrong, and the case of interest then is one in which the path is wrong indeed. What is the course of action then? Am I allowed to go back and change my path? 

I cannot change the past, and so I must change the course of my life from here onwards if I care to. Either I am forever on the “wrong” path or I take it in the direction which I consider “right”, as right as I can be assuming I have been on the wrong path before. Now, my path becomes a mix of wrong and right. As I do more right, it becomes more and more right and less and less wrong. 

In either case religious or not, the situation boils down to, do I believe I am forever going to be wrong no matter what I do or do I believe I can change the path or change my actions (assuming the path is already correct). In the very recent past, when I felt like I had made some mistakes, I took refuge in the quote, “The only real failure in life is not to be true to the best one knows –Buddha (but it actually might not be from Buddha according to some guy http://www.fakebuddhaquotes.com/the-only-real-failure-in-life-is-not-to-be-true-to-the-best-one-knows/ ).

 

Recently, I also came across a ted talk by Kathryn Schulz, which made me rethink about the notion of regret, http://www.ted.com/talks/kathryn_schulz_don_t_regret_regret.html. She talks about embracing regret. She talked about how it is important to feel regret. 

 

I had always said that I do not want to have regrets in my life, when I am speaking in prospect, and that is evident in my approach to life, something I think about before my actions, but if I do have a regret about something, it is the seed for a lesson with which to live my life after certain actions. I realized I had stopped noticing and recognizing things as “mistakes”. I had conveniently stopped viewing my actions as mistakes, so as to avoid dwelling on regret and despair associated with the inability to correct the past. Mistakes and regrets are nothing to aim for, but are a welcome and necessary unintentional part of the life journey. 

“When the student is ready, the master appears,” said Buddha. I feel that regret is the marker of our readiness, and a marker for the opportunity to learn and grow.

The guy on the plane was much older than me, perhaps in his forties or early fifties. I wondered how mature he was to view his life as having many mistakes. I wondered if it was our age gap that kept me from realizing I had mistakes but have not lived enough life to see objectively the course of my life. I could not answer his question because when I look back retrospectively, I do not see mistakes, I see lessons. He might have meant mistakes that led him to realize what to do in the future, but those are not true mistakes in my view. And in the true sense, mistakes can only happen if one views the whole course of his life objectively, determine what it was supposed to be, and compare it to what it is instead. Since we cannot do that, and I believe that we do have the power to change the course of life any time we want, we can have a mistake-free life by treating our “mistakes” as mere lessons of the path – whether the path be correct and intended from birth or whether we correct it as we go does not matter. What matters is our belief that we are not forever doomed on the dark wrong path. I did have an issue with Chetan Bhagat also using the terms “mistakes,” and not “lessons” in a novel where the protagonist/narrator is looking at his life in retrospect, even if the title proved to be a conversation starter.


Saturday, August 18, 2012

A quick humble request for the religious and the non religious

http://www.somethingshinymoved.com/wp-content/uploads/2010/10/You-Me-Love-Venn-Diagram.jpg
Kabir's Song


The thing about religion is that we agree on a lot more than we know or bother to look into. If we look for agreements, we will find them. Let us please focus on aligning our behaviors to all the beliefs and philosophies we agree on first – maybe disagreements would seem minimal and negligible in comparison.

When we selflessly love our neighbors, we are expressing our love for God.
—Marvin Williams

Beautiful lives are these that bear
For other lives their burden of care;
Beautiful souls are those that show
The Spirit of Christ wherever they go.
—Abbott

Christ-like love is seen in good works.


The Psychology of Metta :

The Pali commentaries explain:

One loves all beings:
(a) by the non-harassment of all beings and thus avoids harassment;
(b) by being inoffensive (to all beings) and thus avoids offensiveness;
(c) by not torturing (all beings) and thus avoids torturing;
(d) by the non-destruction (of all life) and thus avoids destructiveness;
(e) by being non-vexing (to all beings) and thus avoids vexing;
(f) by projecting the thought, "May all beings be friendly and not hostile";
(g) by projecting the thought," May all beings be happy and not unhappy";
(h) by projecting the thought, "May all beings enjoy well-being and not be distressed."
In these eight ways one loves all beings; therefore, it is called universal love. And since one conceives (within) this quality (of love), it is of the mind. And since this mind is free from all thoughts of ill-will, the aggregate of love, mind and freedom is defined as universal love leading to freedom of mind.


Friday, August 10, 2012

Krish and Krit

Krishna,

Sometimes I don’t know if you are really there, or are just an extension of the pretend games I used to play earlier as a child. I know that as a child I made an alternate world, which helped me have friends when there were none, which helped me go on enjoying my childhood. I used to love you when I was a little kid. You were my favorite god. If you exist, you already know this, but from what I understand, even you enjoy hearing your praise and being liked.

Even if you are just a figment of my imagination, you are such a fun one! Whenever I am talking to you in my heart, I smile. In the darkest and lowest of moments, you are that (perhaps imaginary) friend, who always always has a great sense of humor. So, if it is not you, is it my own humor? When I think it is you, I even bring out the best qualities of myself in my imagination. I think about what you would want – what would Krishna do, what would Jesus do – and this very question helps me to explore what I would want God to do. This is how I get in touch with the innermost God in me, and maybe that IS you.

So, on days when I think you are not there, I feel alone and heavy. I feel as though I have had it all wrong the whole time. I feel like a fool – like I am still that child playing on swings, imagining a world, and talking to myself. And I want to break it all – I want to step out of it, and become a skeptic. Even in all my skepticism about you throughout the years, I never left you, and you never left me. Even if I did not call you by your name, you knew I believed in you. Do you like being called by your name? People seem to fight over it, so I refrained from finding out your name. I think of your nature. I am willing to argue and debate at length about what God’s attributes are supposed to be like – but how much do you care about your name? Sometimes in relationships, we forget to ask each other these seemingly unimportant questions, and so I ask you.

Unfortunately, the more I tap into you, the more addicting you become, and our relationship becomes deeper. When the world says this and that, I try to remember the things you and I have agreed on – without being too affected by others. Yet, it is so difficult to be in your nonverbal relationship – you know I am terrible at those. I like explicitness – so I am being explicit with you. I agree you have shown some extremely explicit signs lately to make us stronger. I appreciate those. I am appreciating you explicitly, because this is how I want you to treat me as well. I am not scared of you. I love you, and I want to be honest with you. If I was scared, I would disguise and lie. With love, I have courage. With you, I have courage. 

I do feel discouraged in the face of a world that does not believe in the nature of God in the way I believe. What if I am listening incorrectly? What if I am wrong? We all have these questions. I am not good at praying. Help me pray, help me listen, help me know you. Is knowing you important? Or is making money, getting married, and living a smart life more important? Knowing you is knowing me – that is what I want to do – that is what I love doing. I love you, I love me, and I am really growing to love us. Is that okay? Can I love who I think you are and can I love who I am even if the world does not really approve of my ways? 

Be explicit, don’t insult my intelligence. You know that I can always argue the logical case in which you do not matter or exist at all. You are kind of a jerk for allowing that – you made logic so logical, and then did not allow us to prove you through it – who does that!!! I do appreciate the sense of humor.

Much love,
Kritee

P.S. Thanks for sharing your birthday with mine this year. Daadi would sing the song, aana sundar shyaam humaare kirtan mein – thanks for coming to my party =D and thanks for inviting me to yours!

Friday, June 01, 2012

To Kill a Lovebug


I feel really terrible when I kill a bug or a mosquito, yet not bad enough to not kill it, sometimes even if I can avoid it. Killing a mosquito knowing I don’t want to and knowing that I can avoid it makes me sad. It is a reminder of knowing better and not doing better. I have often done that. The calendar I bought at the Japanese Morikami Museum, which has many Buddhist sayings, told me last month that the “only real failure in life is to not do what one knows best.” 

And here the notion that ignorance is bliss can really be a relieving one. Unless of course you believe that being ignorant is not “best”. If ignorance isn’t the best, then it poses a burden upon all of us to not be ignorant as much as possible. What happens then, when you truly find things to be wrong, yet you deal with them because it is “impractical” to live otherwise.

Furthermore, you may know something is wrong, but the solution to correct that wrong could either be impractical or nonexistent from your perspective. I have noticed that people often have the perspective that, no matter what little we do to correct it, the problem will still persist. So, since we cannot completely eradicate the problem, why bother at all. Tragedy of the commons. 

I remember studying about Jainism four years ago, and thinking how insane it sounds to not step out of the house for fear of killing bugs. I remember explicitly laughing at the absurdity or the extent to which Jains avoided killing animals, despite my respect for the sentiment. 

 I wanted to enjoy the outdoors today, and came to sit outside at a Starbucks, while doing work. I seriously considered going back home because there are bugs here. And it is not because they are bugging me and running away. No, it is a weird species of mosquito/fly, swarms of which, earlier today also tortured me as I tried to enjoy my walk to class. To avoid killing them, I had resorted to taking a longer route to school then, and now, I have resorted to change my location, because it is just extremely cold inside. I felt noble, yet irritated. 

So, these bugs are not bugging me and running away. Instead, they are slow, and as I try to shoo them away from my newly waxed legs, they die instantly. This freaked me out even more. I know I am a big girl, and have heavy hands, but even my lightest wave of hand is killing these bugs instantly. This is more irksome and burdensome, for I know I have the power in the slightest swivel of my finger tips. With great power comes great responsibility. 

When these little buggers do not care for their own survival, then why should I care for them? Maybe nature meant for them to be this way…. (As I speak, there is a pair of these on my laptop…I am letting them crawl)…and maybe I am tempted to fling them away because that is what nature has intended. Nonetheless, I also naturally don’t want to. 

I think if these were bugs that were quick and agile, I might not feel bad because I cannot easily kill all of them, and so the hit and miss would be a bit more balanced. Instead, they are slowly walking around asking to be killed, and I am spending energy figuring out how not to. 

I remember being a young kid sitting in my balcony in India, taking great pleasure in throwing water at a swarm of ants, when I had newly discovered that ants were nothing to be scared of; they could easily be killed by water. How can something be killed by water, I marveled, an easy killing that I can exercise! I feel guilty about doing that now; I don’t go out of my way seeking pleasure in killing them, yet I still have trouble tolerate them in my space. 

Honestly, these two love bugs are extremely beautiful – doing some type of mating dance on my laptop. The thought of flinging them away is a sad one, but for some reason, I don’t want them in my way either. I tried to scroll my mouse on them to see if that would make them get out of my sight for some time, until their inevitable death when I close my laptop. 


If I focus so much of my energy on saving these bugs, thinking about them, will I sacrifice the things in life that “really matter”. Should I turn away from what I feel, what I think. Should I look for research that will most likely make me feel better about flinging the bugs to death? Wouldn’t that require more time and energy than just letting them crawl?

I will ignore them till I can. 

I felt helpless when I felt that I could not look them up. Help was provided just when I identified the need to know their name in order to look them up. I remembered my roommate's happy banter one day about how another friend of ours did not know that these mating bugs are called love bugs. It hit me instantly - why that piece of conversation had happened. Whether it happened for today or not, by using that piece of information, I made it have purpose.

Aftermath of that day
I did not end up having to kill them. They did not die when I was careful to close my laptop a certain way. And I did end up looking them up. It turns out that there is a rumor that these bugs were created at my very own university due to some accident. Whether it is the truth or not, I felt even more responsible, for their birth, their slow demeanor which impedes their natural survival. Perhaps I was looking for a reason to not have to kill them, and found one. Now, how practical will it be?


How many such decisions do we make, which are against what our heart truly wants, simply because they are the practical decisions? What do we do while we haven’t found the perfect solutions? Follow our hearts? I realized that the world tends to reserve such sayings for greeting cards and scrapbooks. There are some who truly understand how difficult that path actually is. I respect them and look up to them, hoping to catch up with my heart’s abilities one day. Except this cruel heart inches further and further, challenging you to expand that heart even more. While this approach may bring us closer to what our heart wants, what about the goals our minds had set in for us? Will these goals require for us to kill our love bugs one by one?