Just Breathe, ‘Cause If Not That, What Else?

Lately, I’ve been thinking about this idea of how everything is a vibration like one of the strings on the guitar. There is no “Point in Time” — it’s all just a flow. An electron travels in a wave, the very make-up of an atom might be a string (String Theory is yet to be proven), photons have a spectrum which determines their frequency and thus colour of light (red light/blue light) which is essentially a wave, sound travels in waves — why is everything a wave?

It all started with my restless drive towards being productive. I always wanted to get things done. I’d start my day early to get some time for meditation and yoga then spend some time reading before going to the office. In office hours, I wanted to smash as many things as possible — learn as much as possible, cram whatever I could in all unoccupied shelves of my brain until they overflowed, tick off as many tasks on my to-do list as I could then smash a workout after work (which is often CrossFit and requires another boost of mental energy after a hard day of work) then go home to cook a nutritious meal and try to sneak in some time for reading before meditating and going to bed. While that sounds like an ideal routine, I was always rushing for the next thing. I was waiting for the 10 minutes I spent meditating in the morning to finish so I could get on to the next thing and this would be my entire day. Waiting for the next thing. Making myself as valuable as human capital as possible. Not human. Human Capital.

Last few weeks, I’ve been asking myself “Where are you rushing to Ashna?” and Ashna never has an answer. She doesn’t know. She’s always rushing to the next thing and the next and the next, not knowing where she’s going or if she has an end in sight. This is how our society has conditioned us. Most of us believe our worth is intrinsically tied to the amount of things we can do and how well we can do them. We’ve reduced ourselves to a mere mathematical equation:

Value of Ashna = Amount of Work x Coefficient of Quality of Work

But seriously? Is that me? When I say goodbye to the world, is the number of this equation all there would be to my existence? Who is the keeper of these equations? Will it exist anywhere but in my own mind?

These series of questions have led me to start making drastic improvements in my life ’cause you know what I’ve realised (behold) WE ARE HEADED NOWHERE. WE LITERALLY EXIST IN THE HERE AND NOW. Every day is a day closer to our grave, so is that what I have in mind for me? Every time I rush to get things done now, I tell myself to breathe. BREATHE. THERE IS NOWHERE TO BE BUT HERE.

I start my day off on the same note — with meditation. But now, I breathe into it. I embrace the silence. I breathe my energy into this world. I connect. Then I play with my cat, my beautiful little cat. I see her run around the house, catching the ball or getting distracted by the noises on the street. I wonder how she’s capable of so much love with just a “MEOW”. I go for my morning coffee — cupping the large mug, knowing it’s one of the best things I’ve ever tasted. I read with awe — reminding myself that I don’t HAVE to read, I read to appease my curiosity. I read to understand this beautiful complex world from yet another angle. Then when I enter office, I remind myself of what a worthwhile exercise it is to connect with people (clients or people I work with). These are moments which won’t return. If you complained about one thing, the list truly has no end so reminding myself that it’s all about perception. I love solving problems, having strategic discussions, getting to know my clients at a deeper level and swimming in that level with them till we peak out of the water to come back to our goals and the crux of our jobs. We oscillate between personal and professional — very well knowing that while we’re here to do our jobs, to meet our KPIs, wherever humans are involved, there’s always something deeper to explore.

I work at 80% of my capacity because it’s not worth getting burnt out. I want to be content, not efficient (don’t get me wrong — I get my best work done in this state). I try to be aware of when my mind and body are signalling it’s enough work so we all could go for a walk in the sun or get a nice coffee or talk to someone. I go for my workout and I’m not hoping for that one day when I’m at my fittest — I embrace the strength in the here and now. I divide my workouts into small sets, practice breathing in high intensity workouts, try to focus on clean movements and mentally tap myself on the back as I’m done. My body astounds me every time. It’s so strong, so receptive. I go home marvelling in the wonder my body is. I decide what I want to cook and stare at the ingredients that will become a dish and the dish that will become me. I light some incense and let the raw earthly smell waft through the house. While some calm music plays in the background, I wonder about what the world will look like in the next 10 years and brainstorm ideas — this time not with an intention of capitalising on them but to revel in them. To revel in curiosity. To know I have a little longer to make my mental bets on this world that keeps changing. I dance with my soulmate in the kitchen and we watch yet another episode of the Office while we eat. As we finish, I get triggered because he didn’t clean but I remind myself to breathe. Why the anger? Just lovingly tell him to clean and he does. I watch him in awe, aware of the limited time we have together on this planet and milking every moment of it. I watch his muscles tighten as he scraps the kitchen slabs, I listen to him crack his incessant jokes then finally watch him crash into Cersei (our cat) to find love and solace. We brush our teeth and we breathe into it. We discuss all the stupid things we did in the day, reminding ourselves we’re a giant hot mess. To expect absolutely anything else will be foolish. This leads us to embrace our mistakes, learn from them and scrap away our expectations of ourselves. We go up to the loft carrying Cersei, winding up the day on a few moments of silence and a few words of wisdom from the books we have scattered around. Here, I thank my stars for letting me breathe. For giving me another day.

I’ve decided to get a tattoo that reminds me of this. I’m still deciding what it will be but it will remind me to breathe. It will summarise this blog in a few words or one word. I can’t guarantee I won’t rush but I can guarantee I will stop to look at my hand — where the tattoo will reside. It will remind me to breathe. It will ask me “Where are you rushing to Ashna?” and I won’t have an answer….. Just like the last 27 years