Let It Go

So I'm close to month 3 of unemployment and I have to say, it isn't quite what I expected. I thought I would have a nice break after coming home before quickly moving on to the next stage of my life; turns out that this limbo period is becoming a stage in itself. It feels like I've lost my internal compass and am no longer sure which direction to move forward. What now?

Up until now I have had set goals - high school, college, graduate school - but now that I'm done with the standard educational path and am free to do whatever I want (in theory) I feel paralyzed by choice. My days are a rollercoaster which alternate between highs of inspiration and depressing lows. I have always set high standards for myself and worked hard to achieve my goals, but now that my targets are undefined I am terrified of not living up to my own expectations.

So I did what I always do when I feel I need to get back on track - I made a list of things I want to do. After jotting down all the exotic places I want to go and adrenaline rushing activities I want to do, I felt excited for a moment before a second wave of disappointment hit - I did not have the means to go after any of these activities at the moment. So I went about making a more modest list of ways to improve my happiness - small things I could start to do today. I wrote down: write more, learn to cook well, work on my Italian, and then a set of 3 little words I did not expect to see until they were already written - Let it go.

A year ago I had a big fight with one of my best friends at the time and we haven't spoken since. It is something that I never quite got over. The funny thing is I thought I was over it - I remember the exact moment in India when I told myself I was done being upset by it. But I found forgiving someone while in a lovely exotic setting is not equal to forgiving someone while back home and having to face it. Turns out I wasn't the bigger person after all.

I know I need to let it go. I need to get over it, and not in a way where I push it to the back of my mind and busy myself with distractions, but to a point where I can objectively look back and not feel anger. I was holding on to this negative feeling with a clenched fist, and it was hurting me more than anyone.

So I chose to get over it. There is a quote I really like that helped:

"When you hold resentment to another you are bound to that person or condition by an emotional link that is stronger than steel. Forgiveness is the only way to dissolve that link and get free." -- Catherine Ponder

Let it go. Let it go. Let it go.

Of course choosing to let something go is just the first step. Although I may not welcome her back with open arms just yet, I could do something small for now, like wish her a happy birthday.

Baby steps.

Me, Myself, and I is for India

"I get by with a little help from my friends." -The Beatles

Its been over a month since my last entry. In the last few weeks of my time in India I felt myself not being able to keep up with all that was happening within me and around me. Instead of beating myself up over it, I recognized the fact and went on living my life, enjoying myself in the present and telling myself I would take time to reflect on it in hindsight.

I arrived home in NY two weeks ago. Its amazing how quickly I've adjusted to being back home, but in a way I still feel detached from my immediate surroundings. India already seems hazy and blurry in the distance, though I find myself thinking of it at the most random times. Its impossible for me to summarize the last few weeks of my time in India in a coherent way, so I won't really try to do it justice. Most of my previous entries have focused on weekend trips I've taken, but now I really would prefer to talk about the days in between, when I wasn't swimming under waterfalls or climbing up mountaintops with incredible views. The unremarkable days.

The first day I arrived I panicked after stepping foot outside. I did not know what I had gotten myself into. After a few weeks I settled into the rhythms of my new surroundings but was secretly counting the days until I got back home. It wasn't until a few weeks into my stay that things - mainly my attitude - changed. I got off my butt and made some friends, and things really turned around from that point on.

Someone once asked me what I love the most about traveling, especially traveling alone, and my reply was simple - meeting new people. "But isn't it superficial?" They replied. "You don't get to know them for that long anyway, how good of a friend can you make?"

I thought about this, and I couldn't disagree more. I've found that the length of time I know someone doesn't necessarily constitute a better relationship. In my life I've discovered that most of the time, within the first few hours of meeting someone, I know if we are going to be great friends. If I spend two years sitting down the hall from someone I just say hi to when we pass each other, a few more years isn't going to change that relationship for me.

I've often become better friends with people I've known for only a few months than with those I've known for years, especially during my travels. Whether it be a great MIT roommate who I spent only a few months with but ended up being one of my most cherished friends, or my refreshingly honest German friends who I think of often, or my dear Italian friends who pull at my heart like distant family - great friends can take many forms. Friendship is something to be taken seriously, and I never found that to be more true than in India. When I injured my arm I had friends take turns taking me to the seemingly never ending hospital visits without batting an eye about the inconvenience. We then spent many days taking in great views on wonderful trips, or just helping each other get through not so great work days with shopping, dinner outings, movie nights, and many many tea breaks. These friends are what made my trip great.

This summer has been a wonderful experience for me, but don't get me wrong, I did struggle. I don't want to sugarcoat this. It is hard to leave your home and be dropped off halfway around the world and have to manage. It is hard to not speak the language and feel dependent on others if you pride yourself on being independent. It is hard to get into arguments and cultural clashes with friends who basically constitute your family abroad. It is a struggle to put a smile on your face on those days where you are mentally and emotionally spent and just want to stay in bed. And I'm not going to say that the beautiful trips and sights made all the struggle worth it (although they did). The struggle itself was worth it. Being taken out of your comfort zone and finding a way to make it work, and even more importantly, to come to enjoy and embrace your surroundings, is worth it. I feel like my character was often stretched this way and that during this trip, but all this stretching made me less rigid and more flexible to people, ideas, and situations in the future. And for that I am grateful.

It is always sad to leave new friends, especially when you feel that you've been through a lot with them. Its especially hard because often after you leave life gets in the way (of no fault of one's own) and contact can become less and less frequent. The people I have become friends with have left an imprint on my heart, and although I may not physically be with them I hope they know that I think of them often. I feel blessed to know that I have touched and entangled my life with people and friends around the world, as they have touched me. Even if just for a brief moment. And that's enough for me.

So to all my friends - thank you.

Crazy for Coorg! (Part 3, aka Sacred River Rafting)

The last day in Coorg began with some white water rafting!

(Disclaimer: I clearly could not bring a camera on a rafting trip, so instead used well chosen photos from the internet to illustrate my point :-) )

We drove about an hour to get to the site, and suited up in style before heading out. We were told it wouldn't be a very intense rafting experience, really meant for beginners, but I was a beginner so I didn't mind. I also found out later that the river we were on was in fact the Kaveri - the same sacred river whose birthplace we had visited the day before in Talakaveri. I felt a bit strange about rafting on a sacred river, but who I am to judge.

Before heading out I decided to change into the pajamas I had worn the night before in case we got wet, since I only had one decent set of clothing left after the waterfall incident. There were 6 of us, and a guide who was African but grew up in India. We started out by learning the basic commands (forward, back, get down!) and then headed on our way.

Our guide was entertaining, with a strange sense of humor where you couldn't tell if he was joking or not. That coupled with an extremely mischievous smile made for an interesting trip. He kept joking about all of us "going for a swim" in the river, which created some pretty alarmed looks from my Indian friends who couldn't swim. Our guide didn't seem above just throwing us into the water one by one, but we managed to hold him off. He ended up jumping off the raft himself and going for a swim while we were in the calm parts of the river.

There were four rapids that we went through while rowing down the river, and it was so much fun! Water splashed over the sides as we made our way through the rush of current and I was sooo glad I had changed my clothes.

Even more enjoyable than the rapids were the calm portions in between, where we would slowly float through the green river, dark and silent, under trees that seemed to respectfully bow at us from the riverbanks. We made a detour through a small channel, and I looked up at bamboo trees which bent from both sides of the bank and met in the middle, hugging in the center as the sun forged through the cracks and celebrated their union. Water striders skimmed the surface of the river as they kept pace with our raft, and the insects of the trees calmly called to us from the greenery. No one spoke. I imagined what it would be like to live in a small cottage on the banks.

We made our way out of the channel back to the main river, and prepared for the last rapid. It was bigger than the rest and thrilling to go through, and after we went through, our guide managed to manuever our raft back toward the rapid behind a large rock. The boulder acted as a type of catapult for the water, and we all were soaked from head to toe in the makeshift waterfall. We changed positions within the raft and I made my way to the front and let the water rush over me. I had been worried about swimming in the river since it did have a greenish hue, but since it was sacred I stopped being paranoid and hoped the gods would protect me from flesh eating bacteria.

After changing into my last set of dry clothes, we headed out to our last stop - a Tibetan monastery located in Bylekuppe, the second largest Tibetan settlement outside of Tibet. The monastery is home to 7,000 monks.

The inside was even more impressive, housing three large gold plated Buddhas about 60 ft tall.

I sat cross-legged on the cool marble floor, and let my eyes focus on the myriad of colors on the beautiful wall, calm and content with the satisfaction of an unforgettable trip.

Quote of the Day

There is not one big cosmic meaning for all, there is only the meaning we each give to our life, an individual meaning, an individual plot, like an individual novel, a book for each person. -Anais Nin

Crazy for Coorg! (Part 2)

After the waterfall we drove toward our next destination - Talakaveri.

Talakaveri is considered the birthplace of the Kaveri river, one of the seven sacred rivers of India, and is located in the Brahmagiri hills in Coorg at an altitude of about 4500 ft. (Side note, one of my friends who came along is named Kaveri, and she is named after this river).

There was a young Brahmin in white clothes with colorful markings on his forehead and arms. We stood there and watched him perform prayers and chant over the exact spot of water that marked the origin of the river. The chanting (in Sanskrit) was monotone and went on for a while, and simultaneously he was pouring holy water and some type of red powder into the water. I stood there respectfully as everyone put their hands together and closed their eyes. "Pray for what you want," Kaveri whispered to me, "it works." So I did.

When he finished the chanting he gave us a spoonful of holy water and marked our foreheads with red powder. We then began the climb up the 500 steps to the Brahmagri peak. On the climb up I could see why this place is nicknamed "The Scotland of India." Rolling green hills surrounded us as far as the eye could see, and we were immersed in a white mist that danced around us. It felt like we were climbing a stairway to heaven.

Once we reached the peak there were no words to describe the view that awaited us. If there was ever a place that seemed fitting to worship the gods, this would be it. We were above the clouds, in the clouds. At one point a cloud passed right through us, and we could see nothing but white mist and foggy shades of one another. Exhilaration burst through me as I raised my hands to the sky.

We were in the heavens.

Crazy for Coorg! (Part 1)

The most recent weekend trip I took was to Coorg, also known as the "Scotland of India." Coorg or Kodagu literally means "dense forest on steep hill" and is about 5000 feet above sea level.

What has become my traveling group [me, 3 coworkers (Kaveri, Ajay, Murali), 2 MIT interns (Richard, Sean)] booked a car/driver for the weekend and made the 6 hour drive to Madikeri, the district headquarters of Coorg. The drive over was beautiful - acres of lush forests, misty hills, and coffee and tea plantations.

First destination - drive through Nagahole National Park, where our car was slowed down by an elephant on the side of the road.

We had planned on going on safari through the park, but weather and time didn't permit, so we moved onto the next stop - Iruppu Falls. We had to do some hiking to get to the waterfall, but it was beautiful, set amid thick green forest and mossy boulders.

We stood there for a few minutes, admiring the power of the water as it crashed below. A few people were under the waterfall, holding on to a steel beam that had been put into place for that reason I assume. I immediately regretted not bringing a bathing suit. Richard had brought shorts, so he changed into them and joined the few others under the water. One by one the guys in our group decided to follow. Kaveri and I had a real dilemma! We had no bathing suit, and for women swimming in just your undergarments in India is a big no-no to say the least. We sat on the moist rocks, but as I watched the others I couldn't take it anymore - "I'm going in!"

Those of you who know me well know that I'm not exactly the type of person who swims under waterfalls fully clothed, but I feel like my trip here has been marked by things I wouldn't normally do, and the words came out of my mouth before I even thought about them. I looked at Kaveri "I'm going in, you comin?" She smiled and her eyes lit up - "Let's do it."

We crossed the slippery rocks and slowly let ourselves into the water (so cold!). We waded over to the falls to join the others, and I kept my balance by gripping the steel beam.

What a feeling! The pressure of the water was so heavy against my head and shoulders, and it felt like each rush pounded more and more of my thoughts outside of my body until I was left with nothing but this feeling. I had to remind myself to breathe, since the wind was continuously getting knocked out of me. I gripped the beam tighter, closed my eyes, and let the water wash everything away.

After changing into some spare clothes, I let my hair out and let it dry in the wind as we drove off. We sang our favorite songs as we headed toward our next destination. Great music, new friends, beautiful scenery...what more do you need?

If I Had My Life to Live Over

I'd dare to make more mistakes next time.
I'd relax. I would limber up.
I would be sillier than I have been this trip.
I would take fewer things seriously.
I would take more chances.
I would take more trips.
I would climb more mountains and swim more rivers.
I would eat more ice cream and less beans.

I would perhaps have more actual troubles but I'd
have fewer imaginary ones.

You see, I'm one of those people who live sensibly
and sanely hour after hour, day after day.

Oh, I've had my moments and if I had it to do over
again, I'd have more of them. In fact,
I'd try to have nothing else. Just moments.

One after another, instead of living so many
years ahead of each day.

I've been one of those people who never go anywhere
without a thermometer, a hot water bottle, a raincoat
and a parachute.

If I had my life to live over, I would start barefoot
earlier in the spring and stay that way later in the fall.

If I had it to do again, I would travel lighter next time.
I would go to more dances.
I would ride more merry-go-rounds.
I would pick more daisies.

By Nadine Stair (age 85)
from Condensed Chicken Soup for the Soul
Copyright 1996 by Jack Canfield, Mark Victor Hansen & Patty Hansen