Author: Presha

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Permission to Enjoy What I love

Indulging in what you love

I have folded myself into the cozy and comforting pages of the books, surrendering to my desire to read. I let go of that nagging voice of reason- ‘too much of good will not last’ ; ‘why do you need to spend money on books, you can always get free books at the library’. Except that the books at the library are never the ones that I want to read. I have forced myself to read books that someone else has judged as a ‘good book’ or a ‘must read’. Many of these ‘recommended books’ were a disappointment.

One day, I decided to indulge myself and ordered six books online. I had instinctively felt drawn to these titles and for once without questioning I paid and waited in sweet anticipation. The books arrived one by one in neat brown packages. For a week, each day I came home from work, a package would greet me, adding a spark of joy to the daily humdrum.

The titles and cover pages with splashes of colors promised an adventure. One by one I devoured them all. ‘At water’s edge’ by Sara Gruen; ‘Life from Scratch’ by Sasha Martin; ‘Little Paris Bookshop’ by Nina George; ‘The magic of ordinary days’ by Ann Howard Creek; ‘Emptiness dancing’ by Adhyashanti; ‘Pilgrim at Tinker Creek’ by Annie Dillard; and finally ‘The art of hearing heartbeats’ by Jan-Schendle.

As life ebbs and flows around me, books remain a ready source of escape, encouragement, inspiration, and a dear companion. It is sometimes an art and an effort just to let go and indulge in something you love without the baggage of guilt. I read on the train instead of working on my laptop. I read on my yoga mat instead of practicing my asanas. I read on my bed, next to my daughter, who is playing with her blanket, trying to fall asleep. Blissfully unaware of my surroundings, I burst out laughing and at times shedding silent tears. It was akin to the forbidden pleasure that comes from digging deeper and deeper into bags of chocolates and heaps and heaps of pasta.

Something shifted within me recently. I realized that I was waiting to enjoy myself; waiting for things to fall into place before I gave myself the permission to enjoy life.  This is no news flash. I have always known this tendency in myself and others, but this knowledge has never transplanted itself into my heart, mind, and gut like it has now. What brought about this change? Was it the daily dose of asanas and meditation or that perfect road trip or the sudden realization that I am turning 35 this year?

There has  and always will be ladders to climb, one more chore to finish, decisions to make, improve oneself…..and in all of this I have to make time and space to indulge in what I love best- books.

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The tree next door

For as long as I can remember, I have always lived next to a tree. Growing up in Kathmandu, our 100-year-old house had a courtyard with only one tree, a tall and slender tree perched on rectangular mound of bricks sheltering a variety of plants and an ancient well. When spring came it turned into a green umbrella with white and yellow flowers that looked like white frostings on green carpet. I learned later that this was a jasmine tree or parijaat in Nepali.

As kids, we spent countless hours playing under this parijaat tree. Occasionally, the green moss on the yard would be speckled with the white and yellow of the parijaat flowers. Our grandmother, the matriarch of the household would immediately dispatch one of the servants to carefully collect the flowers. Next morning, soft and pure parijaat flower would be offered to the household deities.

In this house, I shared a room with my sister and my parents, a long rectangular room that was partitioned into two by a wood panel. My parents slept and entertained on the larger front half and my sister and I shared the smaller second half. The second half was also used as a study room, a wardrobe, a storage room, a nap room, and anytime we needed some space and privacy. Our room had a thin bedding on the floor and three large dressers lined up against each other on one wall. There was a floor to ceiling window that covered half of the wall, overlooking the courtyard and the green of the parijaat tree.

I spent countless hours sitting cross-legged on this bedding finishing my homework from school or preparing for multiple exams. My mother, my sister, and I, all three would congregate on this bedding in the evenings talking, sharing, laughing, crying, and sometimes just working silently. Some of our most joyful and most difficult times happened here, all overlooking the courtyard and the silent and stoic parijaat tree.

The tree was our silent companion that witnessed our challenges, our heartbreaks, joys, and wishes. Fast forward a decade, the house and the courtyard are abandoned and slowly falling apart, but my mother tells me that the parijaat tree is still alive and sprinkles the yard with flowers from time to time. My heart aches for this tree like it would for a long-lost friend.

I left Nepal and moved to the US and eventually to Baltimore for a job. I lived in an old brick house and my rented room overlooked the trees in church next-door. I spent hours sitting on the window, hunched over my books and computer, all the time aware of the silent and beautiful presence of the trees next-door. Alone in this city, navigating the ups and downs of professional and personal life, and missing my family, I often turned to these green friends. No judgement, no advice- just the green, earthy, and soothing presence and a compatible silence that calmed my mind and warmed my heart.

Yet again, I find myself in another east-cost city, with a family of my own this time. Our neighborhood is green and situated right next to a trail. When the weather allows, I find myself automatically gravitating toward this trail. The tall green trees invite me to take a walk, feast my eyes, calm my mind, and luxuriate in the silence. Days when I feel like the walls are closing-in around me and I am sinking into despair, I make myself a tall mug of tea and hike through this trail. I let my mind wander and come into a timeless communion with my green friends. Immediately, I feel a sense of quiet and calm rise inside me.

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The Life I Want to Lead

I spend a lot of time thinking about what it means to live a ‘perfect life’.

Years ago, I stumbled across a Ted Talk on ‘life design’. I remember the tag line being something like, “since your life is your most important project why not design your life?” . Although, I did not listen to the talk, the phrase “life design” kept coming back.

I am a mother of two small children. I work full time as a program manager for a non-profit. My ‘normal’ days are filled with commute, office work, kids, and housework. Rinse and Repeat.

But strangely, in this time of crisis, I think I may have found my ‘perfect life’ or something close to that. I realize that I am extremely fortunate. My husband and I, we still have jobs, jobs that allow us to work from home. And we have a large extended family, both sets of grandparents living with us, helping care for our two very active children, and taking on the daily cooking.

My preferred methods of methods of relaxation are going for long walks, reading, being in nature, and sometimes cooking and baking. And I like to take long and frequent pause on my news and social media consumption. This past weekend, I picked up my phone twice and only for five to ten minutes. I didn’t miss it at all.

I prefer quiet and stillness. What is different this time around is that the world outside is also keeping a self-imposed quietude. And this makes a huge difference in the quality of my ‘slowing down’. I don’t have to be anywhere, no one is expecting anything from me. There is no pressure, social or otherwise, to go somewhere, be someone, and do something.

I have found that life has slowed down significantly for me. And as others have slowed down around me, it feels as if the benefits of quiet and stillness have multiplied exponentially. I automatically slip into the layers of stillness and quiet with very little effort.

Life has condensed into little pools of essentials for me. Undiluted by the outside hustle and bustle, I find that what is important has come into sharp focus. Besides the family, food, and shelter, and once those are squared away, taking care of myself has become a priority. The key, I have realized is ‘balance’. A balance between the space and time for the life essentials and for ‘me’.

This means carefully doling out the limited time I have between caring for my family; working for money (and some passion); and pursuing my various other interests that I have forever been putting on the back burner. These are practicing and teaching yoga; taking up running and losing weight; meditating and writing. Working from home full-time with no commute time in these corona virus days, I can find time for everything.

I started running -thirty minutes to an hour every other day. On weekends, my husband and I try to find time to run together. Since our favorite restaurants are closed and there isn’t much else to do, running has become a way for us to spend some time together. While I have lost a few pounds, the big draw is really the mental cleanse that I feel after a run and start the day on the right note.

I restarted my yoga and meditation practice. I do at least 15-20 minutes of yoga and meditation daily, sometimes more. I keep my practice fresh by watching ‘You Tube’ videos of some of my favorite yoga teachers. I am myself a trained yoga teacher. I have been wanting to start my yoga classes for a long time. I see this time today as an opportunity to start planting the seed for potential yoga clients. My mantra is one small step a day. The other day it was handwritten invitation notes to my neighbors to join me on an online yoga class. Every day I take a few minutes to study yoga poses. Every day I take notes on my yoga journal on poses or ideas for my yoga life. The goal is to keep learning and keep growing, no matter how small the step.

Finally, the hardest is writing, I have committed to one page a day. I have been reading various books and watching you tube channels on writing. My goal is to restart my blog, perhaps short essays on everyday life. Writing is an evolving journey with no set goals. Beyond the one page, and one blog a week, I keep everything free and open.

This is my preferred life design, the life that I have been wanting to lead, being able to take care of my family but also take care of myself; and balance between the essentials and the interests. To me, taking care of myself means spending time pursuing my various interest. And for the first time, I have been able to make time for everything that I want to do. And it feels wonderful for now !