Life

Finding Purpose in My 30’s

Given that everything did not magically figure itself out the minute my body clock struck 30 years on planet Earth like I thought it would, it looks like I have to actually do some heavy lifting and figure this ish out.  Also, incidentally, there was NOT mass genocide in my ovaries the minute I turned 30 like most Indian parents would have you believe, in case you were wondering. (And since I have enough eggs, the stork can NOW drop off a baby in case I should ever want one because everyone knows THAT’s how babies are born. But only after marriage, duh.)

Anyway.  I’ve been creating a framework (by stealing pieces from other people’s frameworks) for living the life I should live. It’s still quite vague but here’s a few bits of it.

 

Radical self-love/self care.

In my head this is broken down into a few themes:

  • financial (are you making the money to keep you/who you are responsible for happy)
  • passion (are you doing things that give you joy)
  • intention (what is motivating you to make the choices you are making- from what food shall I eat to what relationship should I be in, to what work should I take up)

I broke it up this way intentionally. I used to view life through the lens of finances, health, relationships, and spirituality (or some variation of these).  But it didn’t feel right.  It felt very…clinical.  And…too much like checking certain boxes.

Because here’s the big aha moment I had.  If I am operating out of a place of oh shit everything is going to hell, I hate my body, I hate everything (which let me tell you, is still many days out of the week), I make shitty choices. To elaborate- If my intentions are (either consciously but mostly unconsciously) to operate out of fear, I eat crap, I don’t exercise, I say mean things to people, and I don’t make the best choices for my future.  On the flip side, if my intentions are to try and love/accept, I make WAAAY better choices about everything.

Also, if I’m not making enough money to keep me and the things I am responsible for happy, I make shitty choices as well.  Mostly because I’m desperate and everyone can smell it and let me tell you if the world sees a desperate person you know what they do? They usually kick them.  For the most part.  Not everyone, but in general, desperate is not a good look on anyone.

Finally, if I’m not doing things (really, ANYTHING in the day or week) that brings me joy, then I’m like WTF AM I DOING WITH MY LIFE I HATE EVERYTHING AHHHHH.  I feel like a slave.  SLAAAAVE.  And that makes me make terrible choices as well.

Essentially, I was looking at things that push me to make terrible choices.  These are the 3 categories.

The flip side is harder though. So Anu.  What DOES bring you joy? And HOW can you make sure your intentions are more love/acceptance based than the reverse.

Good questions.  I’m not sure yet.  But that’s what I’m figuring out right now.

 

The End.

 

 

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Life

Things I Thought I Would Have Figured Out By 30

I somehow thought life was supposed to fall into place by 30.  Like you knew exactly who you were, and what you were doing.  For as long as we both shall live. I did.  But no.  Turns out the more you learn about life the more you’re like…wtf.  WHAT AM I GOING TO DO WITH THIS THING I CALL MY LIFE?!?! According to the latest research, I probably have another 50 years of this thing left.  It’s like this giant empty canvas, waiting for some color. Apparently, that’s supposed to be my job.  The canvas painter. It is assumed that I’m some sort of artist.  We are all some sort of artist.  So they say.  But whoever said that never saw my art. I probably failed coloring in kindergarten.  I hated the lines.  It’s like oh hey color inside of them and I’m like…but WHY.  And why does hair have to be YELLOW why can’t it be PURPLE. And sky? That shit should be GREEN. Obviously.

And when everyone is asking you so are you going to live in India or the US, are you going to give up your US citizenship, is your husband going to become American, what is up with your company, what do you actually do- really though.  I have no answers.  Mainly because I want to say look, I don’t even know where I’m going to be a month from now (I think I’m booking tickets to the US, but who knows), I have a feeling water is important, I’m trying to figure out where we as a company fit into this grand scheme of the world, and right now I’m obsessed with short hair, nude Steve Madden flats, and Ted Baker skirts but I may hate them next month, lets see.

They call women fickle.  They call millennials entitled.   Apparently according to the news (which could be fake, who knows) I fall in both of these categories.  Woman, and millennial.  Does that make it my identity?  That’s such a loaded word.  IDENTITY.  I don’t even know what that means.

When in doubt starting from first principles is usually a good idea.  The fundamental truths, of what I think to be true.

Which are: I am human (according to the latest reports), I think love is important (so says every religion and spiritual guide ever), and feeling connected in some way shape or form to other humans is a big deal.

Other than that, I’m answering the rest of it as I go.  On the road to 40. I guess.

 

Funny, happiness, Life, marriage

Sometimes You Just Need To Run Away And Be A Moose Farmer in Canada

To be clear, I didn’t ACTUALLY do it.  But I was definitely fantasizing about it pretty much all of last week.  This happens a lot less than it used to, and actually the fantasy has changed from being a pastry chef in Paris to moose farming in Canada. As I get older I think I’m just more practical with my fantasies.  I mean, lets be real here.  I’m never going to be baking or cooking anything anytime soon.  Moose farming in Canada though- very possible.  Very practical fantasy I must say.  (I think I should get a gold star for that one).

Anyway, where does this need to run away from the world stem from you may ask.  Well it used to be from work, but now I’ve just made peace with work in that it’s always going to feel crazy but crazy is the new normal and I’m just accepting it.  No.  This time it’s from this thing people tend to call RELATIONSHIPS. Oh god.  Yes.  Relationships.  Apparently people have them.  And I avoided it for the longest time and I avoided it right into getting married.  I mean planning a wedding now. Which is basically the route to mental instability.  AND I HAVEN’T EVEN STARTED YET.  I think both of us hate this whole planning process.  Hence we both hate talking about it.  Except I still try to talk about it.  And then blam.  Terrible – ness.  And I want to run away and be a moose farmer in Canada.  Literally I was thinking…well…if we never get married then we never have to deal with this shit.  Hmmm….What if we just never get married? Can we swing that? Forever? And then the rational part of me was like…Anu.  Seriously.  REALLY?! WHY ARE YOU OVERREACTING HERE?!

So what was going on in real life during this whole time I was weighing all of these possibilities and planning my life around being a moose farmer in Canada? Lots of crying.  Mostly just me being upset and future husband not knowing why and me just being like I DON”T KNOW WHY I”M CRYING BUT I FEEL BUTT-HURT AND YOU PROBABLY DID SOMETHING WRONG BUT I”M NOT SURE WHAT  IT IS YET LEAVE ME ALONE WITH MY BAG OF CHIPS AND TRASHY TELEVISION GOD DAMNIT!!!! This went on for a few days.  Until finally I did some research and actually found videos explaining these weird emotions I was experiencing.  I like how I need to go to YouTube to find videos to explain my emotions. To myself. While I binge watch terrible television and eat lots of chips.  This is the process, what can I say.

Anyway. And then I sent said videos to man friend and was like..yes.  This is what I was feeling all last week.  THIS.  (If you are ever in said situation where you think your partner did something wrong because you’re really pissed and angry after they said something but you can’t really figure out why and they keep asking what they did and you can’t pinpoint exactly what it is BUT YOU KNOW THEY DID SOMETHING please refer to these YouTube videos: Why we pick difficult partners and Why We Go Cold On Our Partners).

Totally a thing.  And so now I feel better.  I mostly like my life right now.  I do need to shower, but other than that I’m pretty happy.  But also totally fleshing out this Moose farming thing.  In case this shit actually needs to happen.  I probably need some fake identities.  Need to get on that.

Anyway, happy Saturday folks.

Life

The Dirty 30

I think the year of 2018 will be an infinitely interesting one. Now that I’m in my 30’s, I think I generally give less shits.  I mean, I still do, but I don’t hand them out to anyone and everyone.  I think in my teens, I handed out 92374823715903457893465134 shits on a daily basis.  How can one give so many shits? When one cares about everything and anything equally.  Global warming, war, peace, my family, my friends, other peoples families, other peoples problems (you get the point).  About half way through my 20’s, the number reduced drastically to…around 789.  And now that I’m in my 30’s, the number is around 2-4.  Although, now that I’m, you know, doing the whole marriage thing, I think wedding planning is necessarily making me increase the number to about 4-6 (I’m hoping I can figure out a way to get that number down though.)

But anyway, I find the whole process quite liberating.  And FUN.  I’m like hmmm….should I worry about the fact that I have a conference to speak at today, I have only 1 real business outfit, and those are capris and my legs are sort of half hairy? Nope, I already gave out 2 shits today, not giving out any more since it’s only 8am and who knows what is going to happen the rest of the day

It also helps me double down on the things I really DO care about though.  I mean since I’m giving so few shits, I have to make each one count.  Like a LOT.  The things I care about a lot: mostly things that are in my direct control.  Which, if you think about it, is not really that many things.  My health and immediate environment.  How I treat others, and what I chose to spend time on.  What I think about.

Sort of simplifies life a lot, doesn’t it?

Happy Sunday

 

 

 

 

 

Life

Bangalore Grew On Me

I’ll be honest, I absolutely hated it when I moved here 4 years ago.  With a passion.  And I still wouldn’t really put it as places to visit for tourists because when people come to visit, it’s hard for me to say what they should do. 

But I love the small daily routines that I have here.  I have a favorite brunch place, but maybe it’s my favorite because it’s so happy and there’s a 80% chance I’ll meet someone I know and we can hang out/catch up, which is lovely.

Bangalore has much more character and history than where I grew up.  I love America as a concept, as a dream, as an infrastructural masterpiece.  I grew up in a place that was optimized for commuting to work.  Bangalore, for better or worse, is not optimized for that.  There’s so much traffic you want to CRY.  And when it rains, it literally FLOODS.  But as far as history and culture goes, Bangalore has my hometown beat.  I’m still discovering new types of food every day, that I didn’t even know existed! WHOLE CUISINES that I’m uncovering.  It’s nuts.  And street food.  Oh man.  Streetfood.  SO GOOD.

I love the tiny rituals that I get to participate in.  I love chai and filter coffee. It’s the thing I miss most when I leave India.  Bangalore filter coffee specifically.  And Idli and Vada and Sambar. So delicious.

But most of all, I love the people.  So many intersections of sub cultures it’s insane.  From artists to tech startups to restauranteurs to activists, they’re here.  But mostly I love it because you get the sense that everyone thinks that anything is possible. It’s quite motivating and wonderful to be around.

And that’s why I’m currently crushing on Bangalore.

Life

It’s Weird When Things Are Un-Sucky

Like when it’s been so shitty for so long and suddenly you look back and you’re like…huh.  Things are significantly less shitty than before.  THAT IS POSSIBLE?! (I mean, you read stories about it, but…IT’S ACTUALLY HAPPENING TO ME OMG THIS IS AMAZEBALLS SHOULD I BE IN VEGAS I’M TOTALLY WINNING IN LIFE RIGHT NOW).

We have a new company that’s up and running and we are actually getting customers and making money which is a really good thing, turns out.  We got an OFFICE  and have people working with us, which I feel like makes things pretty official.  Sometimes I get PTSD and completely melt down and freak out, but then I just go home and eat ice cream and watch a few hours of trashy TV and I feel better.

I’m getting married. Holy crap, yes that’s happening.  Sometime vaguely next year.  But families are meeting and ish in December, YIKES.

I’m not completely broke either which is great.  I”M TAKING A VACATION TO THAILAND AND CAMBODIA! I mean my cousin totally scored us amazing hotel rates which made everything a lot better, but I’m still stoked.  I GET TO SEE THE LITTLE NEPHEWS (who apparently now are not so little).

I felt like a random life update like that was in order.  I also have writers block so…I think writing something is better than nothing.

All right. Have a great day.

 

 

 

Life

Guess What? ChickenButt.

I’m back at home and I can’t help remembering all the things we used to say as kids.  Sometimes digging up the past is painful. But sometimes you remember good stuff too.

Sometimes you have to dig through the past and make peace with it to move forward.

I don’t know how I got to be so serious.  You can just take a look at my Kindle.  I can’t even tell you the last piece of nice, juicy, emotion provoking piece of fiction that I read.  (And as I was writing this, I just bought a nice juicy book to read.  To fix this problem).

I also know that I’ve coped with life by numbing out pain.  Pain in all of its forms.  From terrible elections, to poverty, to life ish that happens.  But enough is enough.  I’m tired of hiding.  I’ve realized (by listening to some amazing women) that we need to run into our pain.  Because if we can’t run into our pain, we can’t run into our joy either.  And I’ve been living without either and I’m tired of being numb.  Numb is overrated.  Numb is what I spend most of my money on.  Numb is the easy button.  Numb is a lie.

So I’m beginning to wake up.  Being woke.  To what is important.  What is meaningful.  What I can do every day if I’m not scared of pain.  What I can do if, in fact, I run towards it.  It means being a Love Warrior.  It means being vulnerable.  It means making fun of myself.  It means crying a lot.  It means laughing a lot more.  It means not being perfect.  It means trying to be my best anyway.  It means trying crazy shit, even if you don’t know what’s going to happen.  ESPECIALLY when you don’t know what’s going to happen, in fact.  It means being unpopular with the right people.  It means being real.  It means being kind.  It means forgiving.  It means moving forward.  It means remembering the good times, and learning from the bad.

But mostly, it means love.  A lot of love.