Tag: Religion and Spirituality

Food For Thought, Myself

Gratitude

Sanjay Sabarwal

images (1)I admit that for a few moments last week (ok more than few), I had a difficult time finding reasons to be grateful. Attending a funeral for a friend’s father and watching helplessly as they broke down took an emotional toll. It made me wonder how quickly things can shift. In those moments, nothing else mattered. All the problems I thought I had, faded into noise . They meant nothing. So much of my time wasted on things that really didn’t matter in the long run.

Death is a reminder that we are not here to stay. I believe most of us will never know when we will go. All we have is the present moment. It’s not easy. Too often, I let the negative thoughts in my head take over, and then all I do is worry about the past and future. It’s a tough cycle to break. What good is it to waste so much time on things you cannot control? Yet, I seem hardwired to do it.

It is not a coincidence that a family friend and others started a gratitude chain few weeks ago. It is as if the universe conspired to forcefully remind me to count my blessings, love the ones that are in my life, and connect with all the ones and things that truly matter. It is not easy, but it is also yet another reason to not take myself and my life so seriously. There are more important things to do like take a moment, breath in, and be grateful for what I have.

Myself, Writing

Nightmares

Sanjay Sabarwal

failureSo had my first nightmare in a long time. It was surreal as it started in the middle. I am sure I was dreaming of something else, but I see a guy passing by, and for some reason. I call him a pussy. He keeps walking, but I know he is going to come back, and sure enough he does. I am on some stairs, and he begins walking up, and I begin blubbering that I was kidding, and didn’t mean to say what I did but like in dreams, suddenly there are 3 more people, and one grabs my hand, trying to force my wedding ring off while another grabs my watch, and then third has a razor blade. The old school kind that my father used to use when he shaved. And I start mumbling that I really didn’t mean it, but the razor keeps coming towards my right eye. The only one with a contact, and I don’t want to be blind. I don’t want to be squinting out of left eye which sees mostly blurs lately. I knew instinctively that they wanted the good eye, and as I woke up, there was an immediate fading idea that if only I had a gun to equalize the unfairness of the situation (there goes my liberal card).

The weird part is that I didn’t know any of the men well except for the first guy who suspiciously looked like the Reading Rainbow Gentleman Levar Burton (chucking anti-racist card as we speak).  Yes, I did try to figure out the dream, and I am pretty sure the entire dream was an allegory of my recent in ability to read, write or do anything workout related the past few weeks. Each day, I have this vague goal of writing and running, and while some days I am successful in writing for 20 minutes and exercising for 15, I know that’s not going to get it done if I want to be published or be in any sort of shape for the Spartan Beast which is fast approaching in September.

But, and this is a big but, I know I am doing something which is still infinitely better than the nothing I was doing before. So thanks to the Zen Habits, I practice self-compassion. I am giving myself a break even if they give me nightmares.

Myself

Irritation

Sanjay Sabarwal
aura 2007 08 23
aura 2007 08 23 (Photo credit: kairin)

Recently, I have  changed my schedule to include 30 minutes of a show called “The Healer Within” by BK Shivani and Suresh Oberoi. Each morning, I write for 45 minutes and then watch the show which ends with a mini meditation. I found out that much of what the show says resonates with me. I am the creator of all my thoughts, feelings and actions.  With each thought and feeling, I have a decision to make which creates my action. Too often, I let anger and irritation override my natural inclination to be thoughtful, loving and caring. It wasn’t always this way, but I have allowed anger to change who I used to be.

Yesterday, I saw two very different sides of myself. My religious cousin who I mercilessly tease told me that I am one of the few people he sees as someone who can merge with God which is what all souls desire yet entry only comes with the right ticket. I had the makings but not the right markings.  That idea stuck with me the rest of the day.  Later on, my wife sweetly asked if I minded going to see Man of Steel with someone else. I had a choice not to react, but I did.  I even felt it. I heard her say it to me gently, yet I reacted badly.  I apologized yet the damage of hurting her over something silly had been done.  I now see that I will have many more moments like this but what is different is that I see myself as the creator of those thoughts.  I see now that Anger is just an emotion, that I don’t need to give into it.  I also see and know that I will fail but healer within teaches me that I have a chance at each moment to take a different decision.

I have a long road ahead of me, yet I am excited to know that I no longer feel helpless. I am daunted with how much work I have to do but after a long time I also feel a sense of purpose that had been lacking in my life for a long time.

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Brownness, Myself, Sumita, Writing

Memorial Happiness

Sanjay Sabarwal

The link provided below came to me via  Sumita and I had just finished reading the book When God Wink’s by Squire Rushnell (http://www.whengodwinks.com/faqs/) which says that there is no such thing as coincidence.  Coincidences are God’s ways of moving us along to our paths.  The video talks about happiness, and that it’s not about material things or doing a journey for being happy. The journey can be happiness. We have to let go of what we want of others to be happy, and we have to stop thinking that we have to reach happiness when we can choose to be happy.  It’s not easy, but as soon as you can let go of what you expect from others, you can be happier. It struck me that lately my life has involved a lot of coincidences. I have actually used my legal knowledge more in the past 2 months than my entire life. I am being asked to do more, and I realize that is something I have been asking for years. I put it into the universe, and now it has been answered.I realize now as I open myself up more and more to the Universe that I am finding answers. I have been struggling to write for a while but just found out I am getting my certificate from UCLA Extension for Creative Non Fiction. Coincidence?

I began helping a dear friend of mine, and already I am getting more in return than he is. Helping others is helping yourself is what I am learning.   He has been struggling, and at first I thought he just needed financial help, but it was really more than that. We have reconnected in our old ways, and suddenly I see myself being an attorney. and it hits me maybe that was the plan all along. Maybe it was not a coincidence…

https://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=player_embedded&v=IM5JHURKBmQ#!

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Food For Thought, Myself, Random, Ziba

Thoughts For Food

Sanjay Sabarwal
A penny for your thoughts...Dollars for your t...
A penny for your thoughts…Dollars for your thoughts – NARA – 513735 (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

 

I have been doing the Daily Food For Thought for Ziba Beauty for almost 5 years, and I happened to read some of the old ones.  I realized that at first they started out as long one page inspirational stories that I scoured for on other sites. But now they are one liners mostly for quick digestion.  My world is slowly turning from one based on thought and reflection to easy consumption. We no longer seem to have the patience for learning through patience.  We seem to want our inspiration in 140 characters or less. As the messages get shorter and shorter, I wonder how much meaning is being retained?  Perhaps we are distilling it down to the essence of thought, yet truthfully for me, I miss the days of reading the whole story.

 

We are in the middle of a generation the prefers texting to talking. Leaving voice-mails seems old fashioned or just work related.  We no longer seem to feel the need to buy a CD or buy digital based entertainment.  The value of creativity based on words seems to be sinking.  I now have officially entered into the realm of the good old days.”  None of this change is bad. In fact, I love the ease and convenience of getting to music and ideas that I never could before. And there lies the lesson. It’s not really about the message or the shape or form of it. Its how you interact with it, what it does for you.  Someone who does not want to change will simply ignore a long or a short message.

 

That’s hard for me to swallow. I am a fixer. I want to fix everyone and everything. i know that is foolish and ultimately a waste of time. People will not change unless they are ready to. No matter how often I forward inspirational quotes, messages or texts, nothing will get through until they are ready to make a change in their lives. It’s hard to see people jumping over a cliff or harming themselves needlessly but as the quote goes, “until you get lost, you won’t find new ways.” Anonymous.

Touche.

 

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Brownness, Myself, Writing

No Words

Sanjay Sabarwal
English: Man with a turban, Bhopal, India. Fra...
English: Man with a turban, Bhopal, India. Français : Homme avec un turban, Bhopal, Inde. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

.

The music fills the room and my soul. Silence is my best friend while I pray for the music to enter me. I wait for inspiration. Nothing. Silence. I keep waiting.

No words come to mind.  I am blank.  The heart is too full of hurt and regret to allow anything out to anyone.  Time passes. The coffee cools.  Outside, I see a few old couples power walking.  Usually one is ahead of the other.  What is it about doing things as a race?  But that’s not true either. I know that’s my perception. My need to compete with anything. Always me. The “I” never lets go.  Me. Me. Me.

I notice the old man.  I have been seeing him for years. He is an old turbaned Indian, clean shaven, riding a bicycle.  Slowly. Methodically. Sometimes he is a carrying a child but mostly he is alone, chugging along. I often wonder who he is,  but really the main question I have for him is: Why the turban?  I want to ask “Are you from a village” or “Are you a Sikh who does not believe in keeping the hair?”  Where are you going, my friend?  Do you realize you have become a staple in my life?  A quiet one.  Someone who seems to ride by me whenever I am struggling with who I am.  You are a sign, but I just don’t know about what.  I watch you slowly go by me, and I am tempted to run out and stop you and ask “who are you, my friend?”  Yet, I know how crazy that is. s

So I sit here, watching you go by while the coffee has gone cold, and the words still seem to be eluding me.  Silence. The music keeps playing…

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