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Posts tagged ‘United States’

Goals (on Turning 40)

University of California, Los Angeles; UCLA

University of California, Los Angeles; UCLA (Photo credit: COG LOG LAB.)

NWA’s ” Straight Out of Compton” turned on, taking me right back to my freshman year at UCLA.  I am at the gym, leg pressing 300 pounds, arm curling 50 pounds feeling like a beast.  I was 18, a wanna be mustache dancing on my lip, Gangsta rap in my blood. I felt bad ass as I pushed out 10 reps.  2 more circuits to go.  That was then, this is now.  I push out 540, and curl 100 but the gut sticks out, and my 40 years feels like 400 on me.  I am not UCLA Sanjay anymore, more like Useless Sanjay but that’s just my self-pity talking.

A few years ago, I had the same goals as I did today, but the only difference was passion.  Whereas, before I just wished to be in better shape, I now WANT to be better.  I know I can get to a six pack, the only regret being that it would be 22 years AFTER the fact, but you know what, it’s how it makes me feel NOW that matters.  Everything else is just mere whining.  Turning 40 can work miracles for someone like me who quite honestly has been quite comfortable for quite a while.

I start each day knowing that one day closer to my goal of being in the best shape of my life.  The real reason: I don’t want to die needlessly. I don’t want to die because of something I could have prevented, but most of all I don’t want to die before I really do accomplish all that I want from my life.  It really is that simple. I want to live my life not live day-to-day.

Why do you wake up each morning?

Best Friend: A Blog Post

by Jemal Yarbrough

Sometimes, just looking at an image reminds of you the possibility of life, specifically on how a day can do.  My best friend Jemal managed to do that for me today.  I don’t know if he realizes how much of an influence he has been in my life.  We started as law school colleagues, part of the SCALE program at Southwestern School of Law, not realizing that we would still be keeping in touch more than a decade later.  Our days are Thursday as I happen to have a weekly meeting in morning near his house, and in those few hours we manage to keep each other sane.  I think I get the better end of the deal as he has to hear my incessant whining about something or the other.  As much as he will hate this blog post, I could not resist the opportunity to acknowledge his brilliance as an attorney but also his creative side.

If you follow this blog in any sort of way, you will notice that a majority of the images are by Jemal’s amazing photography.  His images manage to always move me with their intense focus and simplicity.  He manages to say more in one image than I can with a 1000 word post.  Each of us have something that is uniquely ours to own, and Jemal has made photography his bitch.  Sometimes, you have to let the ones close to you know how much they mean to you.  Love ya bro!

Energy: A Blog Post

Image representing Facebook as depicted in Cru...

Image via CrunchBase

I remember writing few months back where all my energy, ideas and focus melded into one need to get the story done.  I was smiling and truly enjoying the process, just living the dream of being a writer, knowing that what was being laid down was pretty good and I could do this.  I want that moment back, those blissful hours when it seemed becoming a writer full time was not a fantasy, that I was good enough dammit!  Yet lately, I seem to have found people who either don’t think much of my writing or dismiss it.  Worse, still I have others who manage to always feel bad about blogging or posting on Facebook even when I am supremely careful of not blogging names and keeping my status updates to a minimum.  I feel stifled and trapped into being a certain type of personality on social media as if I have to apologize for being open about my thoughts and feelings.  Sure, I have said too much sometimes and called out others when it was not my business to, and to that I can only apologize and call it a learning process, yet I feel trapped with the label of someone who talks too much.  It’s soul and creativity killing to know that my words are scrutinized to be either dismissed or confirm my status as a big mouth.

I want my words to have the energy they did when I wrote freely and got them out of being in my body, bottled up for so long.  That’s where I want to get to.  Let’s hope that the ones who are judging me know that they are killing me softly.

Regret: A Blog Post

UBC Hospital

Image via Wikipedia

“Hey Sanjay, your _______ has been taken to the hospital.  Nothing to be worried about and…” the rest of the words were a blur as the immense guilt overwhelmed as I imagined that person not being part of my life.  In mili seconds, all the memories, half-said reminders to do more, talk more, spend more time with that all important person hit, and I numbly went through the motions of changing out of my workout clothes and got into the shower.  The water touched my body but not my mind, and I cannot remember if I had soaped myself or just stood in the water, aching for all the things I never got around to doing with them.  “Please, please let it be all ok. Please let them be here” I prayed to the nameless entity, my entire soul focused on the regrets of not doing more, of the last time I met them and the laughter we shared. I just could not imagine not seeing them during my wedding, now only 28 days more and wondered what kind of cruel Being takes away even that much happiness from me and them.

It was at 1am and as I sat in that hospital room, relieved that for now everything was ok, I was ashamed at my selfishness.  I only thought about me and my feelings, and tried to imagine how they must feel to lie in that bed and know that each subsequent hospital visit could be their last.  I watched as they breathed gently, at peace and smiling drowsily each time the nurse came by, jarring us both with the harsh light, apologizing for intruding but not really meaning it.

So there we sit in that room, regret my friend while relief the soldier who conquered that small room, allowing for another day, another moment, of just being with them.

Darkness. Light. Regret.  Relief.  We are who we allow ourselves to be.

Chutzpah

by Jemal Yarbrough

Riffing along in my thoughts as I rushed to get to my counselor last week,  I realized I often played a strange mental game with myself.  Each week, I leave around 8am with the goal of being there at 9am.   Most times I leave it to the whim of the navigation to get me there.  Then it struck me that invariably the machine would tell me take an exit at a street (never the same street twice) and by some miracle get me there at 8:59am. I realized the path with navigation was like my life where I trusted others to guide me and suddenly grew up but just barely. So last week, I gave up the navigation and just took the way I knew and guess what I got there at :8:59.  No need for exits, and shortcuts or turning onto random corners.  I just trusted myself and  the result was the same. No more frustration or lack of knowing if I would get there on time or worse the sinking feeling that I was utterly dependent on someone who knew but didn’t care to tell me how.

So no big news there, I can do things, but often I do not.  As my therapist mentioned, I lack Chutzpah, that bit of nerviness with others close to me where I can say listen I know your methods are different perhaps even better, but I prefer to do it my way. I admitted to him that I felt like I could not make certain decisions because of the strong opinions or some or worse because of their lack of organization. Instead, I was left stewing in my frustration and wondering what the hell I had done to be so lacking in will power.  Sure, I was breathing and being mindful but I had gone to the other extreme of letting some run over my life and affect personal decisions that frankly were no one’s business except mine and my significant others.  I am like the lone boat in the marina, pushed ahead with the tides of strong personalities, unwilling and worse filling so up with anger and frustration that spewed onto the wrong person.

I have made so much progress in my life but now I also new additions in my life and feel like in some way have to start over.  That’s ok, that’s life but the difficulty is knowing when to speak up and when to shut up and let others live their life the way to want to.  I guess, the same way I want to be treated by others…

Slippery Slope

Cover of "Getting Things Done: The Art of...

Cover via Amazon

It’s a slippery slope some times to get back to an old life with new promises and ideals when more than anything else, I want to avoid some things that were not good.  Before getting sick, I was unmotivated, unorganized, stuck in a daily battle of some sort or another.  Back in the reins of work, I realize that just have a to do list is meaningless when the list is not producing, it’s just a list of things meant to fill up the day. ((Taken from Getting Things Done by David Allen)

I realize now that it takes work getting organized, and getting the most out of my routine.  No longer am I bored, but I have to be careful not get overwhelmed and there are so many things I want to achieve.  From the one to one class, to the ADP training to doing more in HR, I know I have lots to learn but more so than that to DO.  The learning part is almost easy and even fun, but it’s the implementation that’s tough. I am still in that mode of surface satisfaction rather than the deeper dive into getting better.

I keep forgetting to breath, to let go, to not get lost in anger (she can attest to that) or lost in the details of accumulating details and tasks and asking myself where is it that I wish to end up?  That’s the real question, the only question really.  So I need to keep climbing that slope knowing that some days I will slip back into the mud but other days, I will be free.

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