More Lessons

Last year I published this one month late, so I already feel like I won 2015.

1. On going home. The other day I was in the middle of a screaming match with my older sister and there was this one moment where I stepped outside of myself, looked at the situation, and thought: wow, I've learned nothing. I always thought my mettle was tested on the road, in the middle of nowhere, on deadline, but moving home from India for four months this year -- the longest I've been home since I was 17 years old -- taught me otherwise.

2. On emotional intelligence. The ability to effectively say what you mean and how you feel, and provide a space for others to do the same could probably end wars.

3. On sitting still. Let this year go down in history as the year I actually started meditating, and not just on yoga retreats, thanks to my friend Shreya and this app called Insight Timer. I probably spend nine-tenths of that time daydreaming, but those few moments of clarity are like hours of therapy and a chance to differentiate the reality I have created from what is actually around me.

4. On the art of disappointment. This year I applied for several fellowships, jobs and grants. And I went on a few dates. For some strange reason, approaching every single opportunity with a balance of delusional optimism and detachment is what makes me feel satisfied, even when they don't work out. Disappointment is much easier to brush off when you know you've done your part.

5. On chocolate. It's okay to like milk chocolate better than dark chocolate.

6. On fear. Last year I was nervous I wouldn't 'make it' in India. This year I was worried I would settle for a life in America where happy hour was the only thing I had to look forward to. Neither of these things happened: In India, I produced investigative projects, nuanced reports and met hundreds of incredible people with a record low of two bouts of stomach illness. In America, I spent much needed time at home with my family and managed to land a job that is exciting, valuable and well out of my comfort zone. Sometimes fear is the best motivation.

Inle Lake, Myanmar

Soham

Sometimes all we need is a reminder.

For me it's the subtle scent of lavender essence, a lit incense, the resonance of an Om. And within moments, I'm back -- my breathing is deep, and my eyebrows unfurrowed. I get a tingle of energy, like when you're excited to see someone.

I remembered this today when I sat down for a meditation at Sivananda Yoga Center in Chelsea. The matted oranges and yellows that mark yoga instantly flooded me with reminders from my yoga training, India, friends I've practiced with, songs. It was more a sampling of energy than of memories.

And I thought, "How could I have waited this long?"

It's so easy to know what is good for us, what we need. For me it's this -- a mat to stretch, to sit, and to let go. A kid to learn from. Enough space outside to feel like a human, and not a pinball in an underground subway mechanism, or a space case in front of a screen.

I wonder why I forgot, so quickly. I knew as soon as I put my bags (bag?) down in New York that I needed these things, but three months later I still struggle with their deliberate addition into my schedule. I make time for wine and beer, for commenting on photos, for trying to find a dress at H&M, and I don't make time for this? The only thing that sustains?

Instead I succumb to being angry at people, and myself. I join the rat race and forget what made my pen, my fingers, move in the first place. I'm not careful to connect positively, and surround myself with people who want the same things. Not all the time, anyway.

Our instructor today reminded us that all of these seemingly passive, quiet actions stem from courage. I've lost that recently in the form of defining success, telling the truth, giving and serving. The courage to take the tingling energy into every situation.

But in any case, the small steps -- the kids I get to read with every Thursday morning, the feeling of a good stretch, the hum of silence -- are being made. And you can call me out on not doing them any time -- that's why it's only real when shared.