The Post to Explain It All

I keep getting questions on the name of this blog. Why does it say "Right now, it is Patience" or "Right now, it is Persistence" and the like.

So here is the reason for it. I don't know how other people live their lives, but I have realized that I live mine in phases, not in days*. I have sad phases and happy phases and phases where I need to sit back and examine things and so on - and these definitely last for more than a day at a time. And through each of these phases, there is always one thought I hold on to, or one emotion I try and achieve - or one answer I find that I feel will help me transition to the next phase, and that answer goes up there on the masthead.

Of course, technically, the URL should then be theanswerIneed and not theanswerYOUneed, but it takes a better person than me to not pretend like I know all the answers and am just expounding them here for your consumption.

So there.

*The only exception is that I have bad-hair days like every other woman on this planet!

A few weeks ago, two seperate conversations with two relatively new friends who both had similar questions for me regarding some choices I made (or didn't make) in the past got me thinking. And those thoughts have led to this being my birthday post of the year. I have been writing this blog for very long now, but the only other birthday where I found it necessary to say something was in 2007. And now this one, of course. This is the big 2-5.

Yep, as of last week, I have been stumbling and fumbling my way through this poorly directed, unpredictably written, overly dramatic and yet strangely amusing production that is my life, for 25 years. Two weeks ago, I was looking forward to this date with a bit of apprehension, a feeling of dread at hitting the mid-20s, of moving from the 18-24 box to the next one, of being closer to 30 than 20. But today, I am looking at it differently. I think I forgot how important each passing day is and how much it teaches you. I underestimated the importance of experience and undervalued the clarity that comes with it.

Now I truly appreciate the fact that yet another year has passed and taught me many things I will need to remember forever.

Like the fact that the people who care will always be there, no matter what, and these are the people we need to forgive more often. And that no matter what they feel and know, some people will take the easy way out and never take a stand in a situation. And that friends can be found in the most unlikely candidates. And that at some point, you really need to stop proving things to someone else and find satisfaction in your choices without feeling the need to defend them or convince others of them. And most importantly, I have learnt that everything that happens does not happen with finality - when you lose someone, when you gain someone, when you learn something, when you forget something - everything, all of this, is just a sign of the stage being set for so much more that is going to happen. So it is pointless to dwell on it - I'd rather buckle up and look forward to the upcoming ride.

And that brings me to my wish(es) for this year. I want to worry less and enjoy myself more. I want to travel, I want to meet new people. I want to take chances. I want to trust people no matter what. I want to experience new things. I want to work harder. I want to move on. I want to feel. In short, I want to live my life differently.

And I don't expect any of that to happen miraculously. No, I am playing my part in all the changes I want in my life. Which is why I moved to a new home with new people; I quit my job with a behemoth of an ad agency and am starting a new one in a different role with a much smaller company at the end of this month; despite that I worked like mad for two weeks to win the agency a decent-sized business; I booked my first solo holiday for a couple of weeks from now. And there is a lot more that I intend to do as well.

So here's hoping that with all that, I am setting the stage for a year that will be everything I want it to be. Wish me luck, people.

I am most inarticulate when it comes to things that really matter, but this post is simply to say that I cannot imagine what I would do, and more importantly, who I would be, without my music. MY music, with the songs that define my taste, the same darn songs that I have been listening to for nearly a decade now, that fill many many Friday evenings much like this one and that wake up something in the pit of my stomach that I cannot describe or even begin to define, the music that takes over my mind, the only music that has ever meant something to me, the music that epitomizes the age I should have been born in, the music that shows talent far beyond anything any artist can even dream of replicating today, the music that speaks with lyrics that can become words you live by and words that bring you comfort when you most need it, the music that makes you catch your breath and listen again from the start more than 3 times in a row, that empties your head, that makes you close your eyes and become oblivious to everything and everyone around you, the music that allows you to retreat very comfortably deep into your very own self and curl up somewhere in there and just...listen. And feel.

Phew. The playlist that brought this on:
Wishlist - Pearl Jam
The Man Who Sold The World - Nirvana
Heart Shaped Box - Nirvana
Karma Police - Radiohead
Otherside - RHCP
Scar tissue - RHCP
This Velvet Glove - RHCP
Desecration Smile - RHCP
Immigrant Song - Led Zeppelin
Stairway to Heaven - Led Zeppelin (this song puts me nearly in a trance from 5.55 onwards even after listening to it at least once a week for 8 years now)
No Quarter - Led Zeppelin (I have to hold my breath every time I listen to this, until about 0:55)

Tell me, have you never met someone who awakens this:
I've been drawn into your magnet tar pit trap
I wish I could eat your cancer when you turn black

Do you not know exactly what this feels like:
I heard your voice through a photograph
I thought it up and brought up the past

And have you never indulged your morbidity with:
Karma Police, arrest this girl...
or
I love the feeling when it falls apart
I am slow to finish but I'm quick to start

And you'll be lying if you said you never once thought:
I wish I was a sentimental ornament you hung on
The christmas tree, I wish I was the star that went on top

And I DARE you to tell me, is there any better poetry in the world than this:
Yes, there are two paths that you can go by
But in the long run
There's still time to change the road you're on

You understand this, right?

Questions that simply beg for the same answer.

I was re-reading this post while looking for something in my archives, and I realize that there are many questions I am faced with regularly to which my answer will always be "erm, no, I don't think so."

So here goes, yet another new thread that I hope will not die an early and untimely death. This is part 2.

Would I ever work again with / recommend / be friendly towards the colleague who sent me an email with one word in it - "yuppie" - and made me ponder for 3 minutes before I realized that she was just agreeing with my previous note and not insulting me?

Erm, no, I don't think so.

Mmmmmmmmm....

This is my first full weekend in the new house. We moved in a while back, but then I went to a neighbouring country for a beach holiday on the first weekend and stayed with some family on the second.

But this weekend was all mine. I found an old Radiohead tee I thought I had lost which totally made my Saturday and I did some grocery shopping like a good girl before heading out to the usual haunt to see the usual band perform - and they were bloody brilliant last night, with some new songs too. I think they did a pretty good Human (The Killers) and Sex on Fire (Kings of Leon).

It is Sunday afternoon now, and I am realizing afresh how much I love this new home of mine. And the plan for the day is to spend some quiet time. Which is why, once I am done with this post, I will go shower, pop open a can of beer, fry up some kebabs and sit down to watch Pulp Fiction. Again.

And then I will cook a full dinner for the flatmates and a couple of other people. Rice, daal, 2 kinds of veggies...the works.

Let's see how long this enthu behaviour lasts!

I messaged him for what I am sure will be the last time a couple of days ago.

Now, those of you shaking your heads already, bear with me. I haven't written about him in a while, and, as always, this is really not about him, but me.

We had to stay in touch despite everything because of some silly issue over bills and what not - my old house's electricity was still in his name, which meant we had to sort out some things when I moved out. Which we did, a couple of days ago. I messaged him saying thank you, and I realized, this was it. Our insipid attempt at forging a friendship over the remains of a very bad break-up had (predictably) failed, and I had no more reason to ever again talk to him or even acknowledge his existence. And I didn't feel much of anything at that thought; he pretty much killed a lot that was left inside with our last conversation (which is a long story that I will never recount because it is too painful and pointless).

I didn't feel much, but it got me thinking about my past relationships, and the one or two men who have actually been able to make me feel a pull in my stomach. The sense of finality that that moment held obviously led me to remember some of the mistakes I made with them, and the main one that jumped to my mind was the problem of expectations.

Again, bear with me. I am not saying this in the cynical, jaded, oh-god-men-are-awful-they-will-always-hurt-you-so-it's-best-not-to-expect-anything-at-all-from-them sort of way.

You see, I think it is very fair to have expectations of the one you love. I think it is absolutely ok to need him to cancel plans (once in a while) when you are ill so he can take care of you, to want him to listen to you at the end of a long day, to want him to look at you from across the room when your song plays, to have him hold your hand and kiss you and (once in a while) make you feel like he cannot get enough of you. And this works both ways, of course.

I think this is very fair, because being in a relationship does and should change you and your priorities. It should darn well teach to place someone else before yourself.

I had all these expectations too (and more, but of course), but that wasn't the mistake I made. No, the mistake I made was in expecting them to know all this without my saying anything. So adept was I at playing the dramatic, injured girlfriend, I never realized that I was lucky enough each time to be with a decent man. One who would indeed fulfil everything I wanted and needed, if I had only bothered to articulate them. Instead I would sit quiet when they asked me what was wrong, would answer "yes, absolutely" when they asked if I was fine, would say "no, don't be silly" when they asked if I needed them to come over. And then I would be hurt and disappointed that they didn't know better. Talk about making things hard for yourself eh?

And the irony of the situation is - because there has to be something ironic about everything we learn, hasn't there - that today, when I am more than happy to pick up my phone and tell the person at the other end of the line that I need a hug and some love and that he can do that for me, that he has the ability to change how I am feeling today, I have no one to call.

I don't for a second underestimate the value of my friends in situations like these (and I love how they try and cheer me up with their funny texts and listening voices and music suggestions), but let's face it. Sometimes, it takes a peck on your nose and a voice you wake up next to telling you that things will be fine.

Sometimes, that's the only way you can believe that they will indeed be fine.

For better or for worse.

My brother is a believer in the it-could-be-worse school of thought. It works for him, possibly because he is going through what seems like the worst-ever phase in his life and needs something positive to focus on. We talk every day; I try not to mention any troubles I may have, because they seem trifling in comparison to his. I try and be supportive and listen, and I don't let him know how distraught I am with everything that is happening to him, or that while he appreciates these daily chats of ours, I almost always need a few minutes afterwards to sit down and wipe my tears away, because there is only so much that I can bear when it comes to bad news about people I love, something I am bombarded with these days. The only thing he hears is my unwavering voice telling him how hard I pray every night that things become better. Because he deserves better. So much better.

But once in a while, I am selfish and tell him something that is bothering me. I can't help it, he is the only one who can find a couple of minutes to listen. Almost everybody else I know is going through a bad time right now, and I cannot expect any one other than family to have the space to listen to my trivial trials. And when I do tell him something, I promptly get annoyed because his only advice is along the lines of "be grateful for what you have, there are people much worse off."

This school of thought bothers me, because in ANY given situation, there will be someone better than you and worse than you. Does that make any of your accomplishments less spectacular or your sufferings less significant? I don't think so. My ego leads me to perceive my life as an entity that exists in its absoluteness. Not free from imperfection, but at least worthy of freedom from comparison. And from another perspective, I find it repulsive to derive comfort out of another's misfortune, or dissatisfaction out of another's joy.

Because of this, when I feel bad about having a bad time at work, I don't feel any better by thinking of all the unemployed people in the world. When I am broke, the thought of a large percentage of my country's population living on 1 dollar a day does little to cheer me up. And this works the other way too - if I am happy with something I have done, I don't allow that feeling to be corroded when I hear of someone who has done it better and faster.

There are very few moments when I forget this attitude of mine, and I had one of those not-so-proud moments this morning when I was faced with evidence of someone's incredible personal success. These are people who started out at the same place I did, but who have ended up in a place that is a polar opposite to the area my life currently inhabits. The topic of success or the quantum of it doesn't matter. But it was enough for me to think that I have nothing in comparison to these people. My thoughts were forced to analyse what my life would have been like had I not made all the mistakes I did - it would surely have culminated in a fashion similar to these happy people. I couldn't help but think that though I have become wiser thanks to those mistakes, why wasn't I lucky enough to not feel the need to make them in the first place, lucky enough to learn from others' mistakes instead?

The only answer I could come up with is that no matter how empty and pointless things seem sometimes, it would probably have been far worse had I not made the choices I did. Had I not made those choices, my life may have gone down a certain planned path, but considering my personality, that path would almost certainly have been peppered with dissatisfaction and restlessness borne out of a sense of not knowing what else I could do. And it would have probably led to me making the same choices I did at 22 at 30 instead, with far worse consequences.

And while I derived comfort from this it-would-have-been-worse thought, I promised myself that I'd listen more patiently the next time someone had only this to offer as comfort.