Family, Food For Thought, Inpsiration, Journal

Unfinished Marathon

Uncertainty: Photo by Sasha Freemind on Unsplash

There is a constant nagging thought inside me to do more, to be more, to explore more, more, more, more, and yet there are days I do the same things over and over.  A guilt inside me reverberates through my soul, pushing me to try new things, to explore, to question, to not sit still. Each day feels like an unfinished marathon.  I look at the goals from the past, current goals, and then my to do list, and it hits me that it will never be enough. I will never get everything done, and you know what, that’s all right.

It can be easy to look at all that I am not achieving, or maybe, just maybe it might be good to see what I finished the days before. Not to sit on my laurels but to give myself assurance that I am not sitting still, not stagnating, not spinning my wheels. A reset so to speak because it can be easy to look at all the lists and convince myself I did nothing. And I take the moment to review, and celebrate. The thoughts that I tried something new and failed. Those memories are the best ones not because of the failure but because I tried.

It is easy to count failures and ignore them as opportunities, the time I took to step off the ledge of comfort and uncertainty and took a leap of faith. It was never to succeed, but to grow, learn and ignite a new fire to keep trying. I admit there are days it can feel hopeless to fail at so many new things, those are the days when it feels like a marathon of failure.  And then I take a breath, and I let out all the failure and breathe in the opportunity.

A new day.

Food For Thought, Myself

A New Monday

d29eb96da040ebccca2f20e6f2f22017Another Monday. Another day to start the week right. Too often, in the past. I have greeted today as something to regret rather than see it as the opportunity it is. Truth be told, each day, each moment can be a new beginning, but something about the beginning of the week makes it a more complete beginning for me. The early morning quiet in my library allows me to ruminate about what I intend to create this week in my life. Not tasks, not just things to do to cross of my list, but real heavy weight things that will impact my future. That option is always there, yet too often I treat it as just another week.

My past experience has shown me how powerful intention can be, but what really stops me is how exhausting it is. No one tells you how living each day with integrity, intention and love takes time, energy and commitment. No one tells you that being worthy requires work. That being right isn’t enough, you have to live, act and breathe it. Otherwise, all you have are dreams. I will be the first one to tell you that I am a day dreamer, but lately fantasy is just not enough. Thinking without action just doesn’t do it for me anymore. I am more than my thoughts. More than “Should’ve”s, “Could’ve”s. More than empty promises. It’s funny how much shit gets done when you put the excuses and stories away. When you stop feeling sorry for yourself, and starting being more than a collection of words.

So yeah, I am happy its Monday. A new Monday. A new chance to be the Sanjay I know I can be. Happy Monday!

Food For Thought, Journal, Myself

Awake!

owl-drawing-tumblrMy eyes opened automatically. Time to go. No excuses, sleep already a stranger like a lover who skips out before the girl figures it out. None of the normal rationalizations of why I should sleep in appear. I look at the clock. 4:58am. I never imagined that would be me. My father has called me an “ooloo” [owl] all my life due to my penchant for staying up late. But nowadays, 10pm rolls around and my body starts calling for the bed. When you are working on all aspects of your life, and are on a path of self-discovery and betterment, time is not on your side. The excuses of why I “can’t” dissolve, and why I “can” become the norm.   It used to be I was up late to get things done, but really that meant that I got to them later and later. It also wasn’t efficient. Getting up earlier allows me to work on so many more things, and as the mind flags down at the end of the day, I know that I laid out everything inside me. I can also spend the evenings with my wife being present and the anxiety of future things to do dissipates, no longer part of my ongoing stress. I am getting shit done, and that’s all that matters.

To be sure, there are days when the bed is so warm, and my body so tired that getting up from there alone is a task that I am not up for. So I fall back, and you know what? That’s OK. I am learning to know my body. To assess my limits. Some days I just don’t feel like dealing with all that’s on my plate. A plate that I greedily filled up. That’s OK as well. It’s part of getting to know myself. There are days I wish I was an owl again, but really my plate can get bigger, and it will be. The owl may be no longer be my symbol, but it is still a symbol of wisdom.

Brownness

Left Behind

maxresdefaultThe past few days have been a whirl. I came back from MITT, (Miitraining.com) with swirling thoughts and desires, and the realization that I have lots of work to do emotionally. I went in expecting not much, and came back with a desire to love the world. It’s a feeling I had before in High School and College, and to some extent in law school, but now its come back renewed. I believe that if I am not improving myself, I am stagnating. If I am not moving, I am drowning.  Too often, I made excuses NOT to do something when instead when I was younger, my response was always yes. I don’t know when I changed. I don’t know when I left the old me behind. I miss him. The one who dove in. The one who took on challenges. The one who loved unconditionally. The one who knew what other needed or desired and worked on getting it for them. Do I  miss all of me? No. There is a lot of me I am glad is no longer there, but in the process I also lost some precious things so I commit to working on those. I need me. To those this all sounds like some mushy gooey “we are the world” type shit, I say so what? What does it matter as I long as I believe in it.

This past week. I watched others with new lenses, and in some, I saw how much pain I had caused them or was causing. It’s a wake up call. I can no longer afford to just complain or whine about how life is. It is my creation, and today I choose to create a better me.  I am scared shitless, but I also know if I don’t dive in, the old me will be lost forever, and that is not something I am willing to accept. I am a writer. I am a family man. I am in shape. I have great relationships with loved ones. That is my vision, and the old me could handle all that, so back to it I go.

Wish me progress, no wish me to be the way I used to be.

Brownness

The Walk

DogWalkingSlightly gloomy morning. Eyes open automatically. Bella’s licks me upon seeing me. Time for her walk. For her, our morning routine is paramount. The WALK.  Nothing else matters to her at the moment. I envy that dedication. She won’t leave me alone until finally I grab the leash. Her palatable excitement at seeing me grab that thing always makes me smile. Most days, she will bite at the lease, as if to say “come on, come on.”  This walk is our time. The route is usually the same. I see the same houses, she pauses at the same grass to sniff, then hover over the grass and squeeze a few drops of pee.  A daily routine that would be boring to others, but for me, that time is MY time with Bella. The rest of the time she is my wifes.

I dont know when I decided to start walking Bella. It kinda grew out of concern that she wasn’t getting much exercise. I never realized how much would I enjoy this morning time. It became the time I got to watch her revel in what the day offered. As I prayed, I also found a sense that this just felt right. It fit. Are there days that I think I probably look ridiculous walking a white maltipoo in sweat pants and earphones on? Yes. Do I care? No. It’s become a time for me reflect about the prior day, relive conversations or think about my writing all the while taking in Bella’s utter happiness of being outside. We both do our own thing, but somehow it’s a shared experience. We both get something out of it, a pleasant surprise. One of the new times, I am not trying to achieve something, just being.

The best part is always at the end when I let her off the leash. She runs around in circles on our lawn, running so fast that it looks like hopping. She truly reminds me of rabbit at that moment. She runs a few times, looks at, dares me to chase her and when I do, she rushes back home, each step a bounce. Hers or mine? I don’t know, but it doesn’t matter, the walk worked for both of us.

Cancer, My Past, Myself

The Stench of Self-Pity Part 1

Is there a better feeling than waking up to the quietness of a beautiful morning?  When the eyes are still closed, but inside you feel full of gratitude and love for all that is in your life?  Think I am full of shit? Few years ago, I would have agreed and perhaps even said that I was just trying to be a creative writer.  Yet, last year around this time is when I was still recovering from my brain surgery and prior to that, my wife’s illness and then before that a stroke  around the time a loss of a dear dear friend reverberated through  my soul. So I could say life was not fair. I could have whined, and been angry.  And honestly, I did. I cannot even read some of the stuff I wrote around that time because the stench of self-pity suffocates me.  I felt so sorry for myself that I engaged in soul deadening behaviors like avoidance, and pretending all was well. I stopped reading, writing or really doing anything that gave me true joy. I fought with people in my life with such a vengeance as if it was their fault my life was where it was.

I probably would have continued if some of the strangest things came together to salvage who I used to be. It began with a subscription to The New Yorker. I have been buying books all my life, and there are always piles of unread books surrounding my homes, but subscribing to the New Yorker was a new commitment for me. I had no idea that each week, a magazine that was extremely well written with VERY long articles would come to my doorstep.  Each and every single fucking week. So I began reading. Around the same time, a forwarded You Tube link of BK Shivani’s “Healer Within” caught my eye.  At first, I was uncomfortable with the Indian accents, but her words struck me into submission with their clarity and accuracy.  I also began doing Morning Pages from The Artist’s Way as well as doing Lumosity brain games while trying to learn Spanish (still struggling).

I didn’t realize at the time, but I had begun constructing a new me….

To Be Continued….