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DD – 2/23/2017

Hey, my #1 for this week.  I’ll be done with my minimum threshold.  So yay!

Yesterday was interesting behaviourally.  I got home, sat for meditation (yes, this is a new lovely thing, what with not being responsible for producing dinner for two kids, I have this bracket of time.  Yes, DH is back home, but he was skipping dinner.  I do the same falling asleep in front of B, but I still feel happy to have been sitting in my spot.  I also debate myself on if this is the best use of my time, perhaps I should be exercising but somehow, this feels more right, so soldiering on).  When I finished, I still had an hour before I needed to get to bed.  I wanted to clean up the sink, drink some hot water and then bedtime.  But I remembered DH had Homeland for me.  I was too lazy to get up and get my laptop, so I sat around watching BBT/MF until DH came up.  I asked him to set it up and then told myself I’d only watch one episode.  By the end of #1, 2 automatically started, so I went through #2.  I stopped at the end and told myself that I neeeded to do the paatu.  (Ah, I had class yesterday.  It was a different experience, very focused on the lesson.  I asked about her knee, then she said go ahead and sing.  Went through the song.  Same corrections that DS gave and in some cases, just slight changes to how I sang that made it match her delivery.  Just the comfort with which she jumps from swara to swara.  I hesitantly place my voice and try to see if I’m on the correct spot or not.  I got a very good, but am continuing on the same song.  As I was leaving, she said good news about DS.  DS also surprised she didn’t respond to his email about ob.  Like I said, a bit odd).  I had the corrections, I pulled out the tape, tried to fix each and that was done.  I should have stopped here, but I started #3.  I told myself it would be for as long as I drank some milk.  I did clean up the kitchen though and then made myself some milk.  Drank it, but didn’t turn off the tv.  #3 cut off in the middle and went off to #4.  Still didn’t stop.  Fell asleep in the middle, DH came by and yelled at me for bingewatching.  Finished the episode at 12:45 without any understanding of what went on (except for the big plot lines).  Went to bed w/o even changing out of my clothes.  Super disturbed sleep with thoughts rushing in and out without any pattern.  Couldn’t hold on to a thought even if I wanted to.  Am so sleepy right now (it’s 4 pm).  What is the point of this self-inflicted torture?

DD – 2/18/2017

The title is a bit daunting – you want to get it right, be pithy, reflect the content you’ve yet to write.

So this is #3 for the week.  I am over my min, but there are somethings I want to work out.

First off – BFP – aargh!  So this happened.  MMC is going through an evolutionary phase.  The temple is growing bigger, upsetting the balance between the rest of the elements.  They have an integration committee, C was asked to join this in 2013.  There is this us vs them mentality at the temple.  The BLMM (Babaji Loves Me Most) crowd feeds on this.  Sita does this and sometimes I think JD does this too.  They throw around words such as racism and profiling – you are never going to have common ground with someone whom you’ve accused of racism, no?  I think it is fair to want to preserve the spirit of the place that first drew us to it.  So late last year, the TIC wanted to expand.  They asked BFP.  The woman says I can’t because family.  Per her, she told them I would be a great option.  Yes, it rankles, having been asked second.  JD says I was considered as a good option because I spend a lot of time at the CB.  So J and I were asked to join the TIC.  J is a BLMM too.  I go to my first meeting, I’m marking out my territory as a moderate, flinging out euphemisms and abbreviations – this is actually one of my worries, am I making myself too moderate to ingratiate myself?  Don’t think so, but something to watch out for.  BFP tells me, even before the first meeting!, that because of my views, I might be ineffective as a member of the committee.

Fast forward to last week – the TIC wanted to go ahead with a meeting with the community, and because of the storms, the roads are closed.  In quick succession, C, J and I said we wouldn’t come and the meeting was postponed.  So the BLMMs say, ah, this is wonderful, we need to act as a bloc and let’s meet to talk about it.  So where do we meet?  In BFP’s house.  Her husband is also there, the guy has been to MMC once and is pontificating on what we should do.  The darn meeting was 3:30 hrs long and everyone kept repeating the same things.  I went there hoping to say little, lost my control about 1/2 hour in.  I finally said I had to leave, they would have continued for ever.  The plan when we broke off was for me to send an email to tic with my position, J and C to respond with their viewpoints.  I sent mine last Sat, nothing from those two yet.

So Tue, I was still pissed about the meeting, but told myself I should let it go.  Asked BFP if I could join her for tea.  I go over there and she tells me she’s disappointed in me.  Her husband is and so are J and C.  Their wives called her and were worried that I had made their positions in TIC weaker.  That even after listening to her story and the tales from C over the past years and seeing with my own eyes, I still would not change my position.  Why the fuck should I care if her husband is disappointed and what does he have to do with this org?  I am also disturbed about being the subject of these BLMM conversations.  I said if she were disappointed, she should have done something about it when she had the chance.  She gave me some rigamarole about she  stood up to them and said she wasn’t attending the meeting (fat lot of good that does!) and what else can she do (:/)  She said she never tells anyone what to do and she says she did that day, but I don’t recall it.  She said I should do what feels right to me (thanks for the unasked for permission!) I said she’d told me what to do earlier too (a year ago, maybe) telling me I should choose sides, she couldn’t recall it.  I finally said I can’t talk about it anymore and left soon after.

So on Wed, I get this long text.  I’m important to her, we should be able to talk about everything, but this one thing she disagreed with me so totally that it would be best we didn’t mention it at all because it would hurt our relationship.  Ok, fine.  Then part II, she never tells anyone what to do, so I should know that I misunderstood.  WTF!  I responded back after a day saying yes to censoring and that in her story I might have misunderstood, but in mine she misremembers.  I’m rather proud of that rejoinder, actually.  No response to that yet.

Today, I’m at home, the weather is gloomy and would have been great to hang out in her or my living room.  But I didn’t want to call.  I’m still smarting over the disappointments.  And honestly, I do need other friend options.  Universe, are you listening?  I’m planning to sign up for the book club at the library, need to get my head out of these idiot romance novels and read something lovely once in a while.  Both the kids are out of the house and time actually weighs on me.  Today, after lunch, there was nothing to do.  Fine, I folded laundry, sat for meditation.  I could have filled up my time with things worthwhile to do – shred docs, put away DH’s trip stuff.  But without an external motivator, nothing :/

Who am I?

Continuing on one of the threads in the previous post – I’m very taken with James Clear’s behaviour change by changing your what you believe is true about you instead of setting a goal/deadline and berating yourself.  I can’t find the link, so will have to update later.  It has really gotten me thinking.

From the previous post: I love writing and teasing my thoughts out on paper.  I am a person who thinks better when I write.  Writing is a form of meditation for me.  And very importantly, I cherish this connection with my earlier self.  This is my identity.  To cultivate this, I’m going to write once a week, no more than 3 times.

I am very grateful for my teachers’ time and attention.  I am a student of vibrant lifer JV (yes! happened last year).  I will practice 3 times a week, maximum of 6 times to make the best use of her time.

 

Hello 2017!

So, this time taking inspiration from James Clear.  His point about changing identity to ensure behaviour change occurs makes sense.  So what identity do I believe is core?  I love writing and teasing my thoughts out on paper.  I am a person who thinks better when I write.  Writing is a form of meditation for me.  This is my identity.  To cultivate this, I’m going to write once a week, no more than 3 times.  (Hey James, this upper bound thing is so not my style :(, but sticking to it because you say it works better.  OK, that last line was based on setting only the upper bound as once a week.  Way more doable with setting lower bound).

2017 is off to a good start.  DH has a new job offer, 40% more pay (is that right?) than his current one, seems excited about it.  Hope the universe plans to have his be here for a while, the guy has been flitting a bit.

DS also has a job offer!  I should record the events.  Around Jan 16, he wanted to come over to CA on Feb 10 for a job fair.  I was hemming even for that, but gave in.  Then, Jan 23rd, he tells me about this job he wants to apply for in Santa Clara.  I reviewed his resume and cover letter (no one can say I’m not supportive!).  Sends it off Jan 26, expects to wait weeks to hear back.  They call him on the 28th and ask him to come for an interview.  Interview is on Feb 3.  Price is ~$950 for the flight.  But what are you gonna do but pay.  I pick up some groceries on Thu and decide to return Mami’s call.  She tells me to do maavilakku maavu on Friday.  Ok, a bit tight on time, but ok.  DH lands here Thu night.  Next day, gets haircut and then eats the world record for slowest lunch.  Interview is at 12:15, guy’s still munching away at 11:30.  I stop him, get him on his way.  And am in the swami room, feeling so anxious.  Looking out of the window,  I spot the hummingbird feeder.  I hadn’t seen any hbs for a while and wished I could see one as confirmaiton that everything will go well.  And instantly, I was rationalizing, there’s no way it can happen, I can’t demand these from the universe.  And just at that moment, a hb comes swooping down like lightning and then swoops away right away.  What a lovely affirmation.  DS sent me a text, he was worried there were others before him.  I told him to relax.  He then logged into Facebook (!!) and reads a quote posted in the Babaji group – When you feel worried, it is just your mind talking.  Instantly relaxes.  I took all my books I wanted to read, sat with Bhagavan, promptly fell asleep and woke up when DS called me.  The interview lasted for 30 minutes.  I thought that meant they were not interested, but he said it seemed to go well.  Heads back to TX and in a couple of days, gets a call with the job offer.  Good for him.   The offer letter came yesterday.  I didn’t want to open it, one I was scared what my reaction would be and how it would color his.  So sent it off by FedEx – $45!! for speedy delivery – he’ll get it on Monday.  Now the worry is that it be a good starting salary – I’m hoping 70K.  Let’s see.

DN (dear niece) also got a job offer in Trichy.  High time!  I was wondering how to bring up DS getting a job while she was still unemployed.  I know DS (dear sister) has never reacted with envy and she loves DS, but I calibrate based on my own personality.  So happy I don’t have to wonder anymore.

Ok, that’s my minimum for the week of Feb 5.

It’s always a pleasure to read what I wrote earlier.  Honestly, Joan Didion has it so right, I like to be friends with the person I was at the time of writing.

So it’s my 25th year reunion from college.  I swear I graduated just a couple of years ago, the hurts are all so close to the surface.  Of course I’m not going, but am part of the whatsapp group that was created to generate the me-too coalitions.  Half the people I don’t remember.  Here’s a question – does everyone other than me have kids going to name brand schools and are super successful?  One of the people I was closer to – I’ll call her PG – is a CTO(!!) – at a company in Boston, she used to run the technology for Fidelity before.  And her daughter – CS at Carnegie Mellon.  She came here for a visit and collected folks to visit.  I was so doubtful, but went anyway.  I met others from my batch – JP, R, and then the usual actors.  PG was so sweet, still amazed at her success.  The usual actors showed up, hung out in their exclusive group, were so happy in their authoritative clarity.  It confirmed things – I don’t belong with them.

Then this past Friday night – I was at the srr temple for the beginning of the maha rudram.   I was in two minds whether to go and asked Bhagavan.  He said Go and I went fine.  I went to the deities to do namaskaram with my daughter and walked around this woman in a pink saree, judging it and the wearer – it was stiff and hung separately from the woman.  I get up and she looks at me and says “Hey Y!”  I’m as usual, blank, but decided she must be the person who was Chicago cousin’s friend and tell her she has a great memory.  She knew I thought she was someone else and said “Of course, it’s been 25 years.  I don’t think you remember me, I am S”.  One of the least likely to succeed members of my class, total hausfrau, completely traditional – all judgements I’d had then and remembered instantly.  I said OMG, of course you are, invited her to sit with me.  Instantly comfortable – because of course I consider myself superior to her.  We talk abt kids, her daughter is in SD, doing bio engg.  OK.  First strike to ego.  DD is with me, I say she’s headed to Riverside.  Puja gets over and we’re parting ways.  I take her number and say – For sure, you have to come over to my place.  I have no hesitation making the invitation because I don’t imagine in a million years it will be rejected.  She says I’ll call you for Golu, but I’m very busy otherwise.  The surprise in my face is super clear.  And then she explains herself – what with my son being Intel Finalist, I have to take him around everywhere and I have other things going on.  Body blow to ego.  WTF!  Completely unexpected rejection, and raising a %(#& finalist.  Maybe the secret to having genius children is to have known me?  I did the I’m a lousy mother, my genes are the weak link, and the Bhagavan queries – why not me and why put me in this situation.  Tried to remember to be grateful and breathe and be present – challenge!  But the why put me in this situation is a good question.  I can see that it is to root out my judgemental nature.  Or maybe this feeling of superiority that I carry around that has no basis for its existence.  Bhagavan – is there a gentler way to get this task done?  I’m reeling. I always used to think the cheer in cheerai azhitthu nirvanamai cheidu meant money and you were going to make me a pauper.  Perhaps one aspect of cheer is ego?  I’m reeling Muruga.  But it turns me to thinking of you.  I feel my carefully constructed cover being ripped and I’m exposed.  So part 1 of the verse is working well, just make sure part 2 is also simultaneous!

12-29-2015

Disjointed thoughts:

How can I be thirsty after drinking a 16 ounces of water?  Does hot water make you more thirsty?  And what’s the point if it feels like it goes right through you?

I scared myself today.  I was at Macy’s.  A Middle Eastern family walked by, the little boy was maybe 7 years old.  Very fair with a shock of black hair and extra bright black eyes.  I first thought how cute and then my thoughts were this kid is going to be profiled soon because of his eyes.   A few minutes later, a woman in a hijab in the shoe section, scowling in a bad mood.  She was in the shoe section, anyone would be in a bad mood.  And I thought, gosh, she looks scary.  Both times the T word popped into my head.  They are not any more foreign than me and I am suspicious of random strangers.  Will I have the courage to do the right thing if it’s called for from me?  After today, I’m not so sure.  I am scared of my own budding bigotry.  What’s the solution?  Stay away from newspapers?

Am trying to go on a diet, but have no will power.  It’s draining to constantly be aware of thinking of food.

Which is why I’m so grateful to have found Cabin Pressure.  Many thanks to DD for introducing me to it!  ROTFLOL! and still laughing over some of the gags.  fishfree-oboecheck.  Wonder if I’ll remember and it’ll still be funny the next time I read this.

Dream – Amma in dream last night.  I was in a dining hall, seated on the floor, BFFU sitting next to me, two men sitting kitty corner to me, all of us had a leaf plate in front of us with food served.  Amma comes into the room, my LA cousin is accompanying her, she has a basket in her hand or fills the basket with things from the loft (bear with me, this part not so clear).   She hands some trinkets to the men in front.  I’m watching wondering if I’ll get anything.  She turns around, says “Yamuna!” and perhaps “nanna irukkiya”  And hands me a saree from her basket.  It was yellow with embroidery, folded so I know it was not a new saree.  And I think she gave one to BFFU too.  She walks away and I turn to BFFU and say – wow! she knows my name!  And BFFU says, Yeah, or maybe someone told her you were Yamuna?  I was thinking about ways that it could have happened without my noticing, couldn’t figure out how and wondering if LA cousin might have told her.  At the end, decided it didn’t matter.  And the dream dispersed.   I don’t get dreams too often nowadays and have given up hoping for my Gurus to show.  But this am, I got up and my first question to myself was – Hmm, who showed up in my dream yesterday?

12-27-2015

A tale of three movies, last to first.

I saw Inside Out, a Pixar movie, an animated movie.  And in a first afaik, was weeping.  The movie is about emotions and memories.  Just like Monsters Inc, they have a mechanism all laid out on how emotions take charge and how memories are stored.  Movie going along, I’m slightly irritated by Joy, the perkiness gets annoying.  Looking at her green dress and wondering why she isn’t in tights which is more appropriate for the kid whom Joy runs.  And then they come to the imaginary friend, Bing Bong.  Initially starts off by being neurotic, but there is ths truck that kid used to ride around with BingBong.  They sing a song and rainbows shoot out of the wagon and it flies.  So taken with this image.  By the time the story begins, kid’s already forgotten BingBong, he’s in the long term memory storage.  Which is sad in itself.  Joy says she’ll bring him back when she gets back to HQ, but things go way south and they fall into the abyss where memories disintegrate.  I couldn’t help thinking of people who suffer from dementia.  It’s as good an explanation as any of what happens to their memories.  And joy tries to escape the abyss with BingBong and the truck’s help while singing their song with increasingly forced cheer and they can’t get out – that’s got to be us trying desperately to claw our way back to even keel but keep sliding back to hopelessness.  And then the last try, BingBong gives the head start and then jumps out of the trunk so that he’s not pulling down the escape vehicle.  Even now, recollecting the scene wrenches my heart.  DD was asking if it had anything to do with her imaginary friend Amo.  I don’t think my sadness is vicarious.  Did I have an imaginary friend who’s lost and forgotten and BingBong triggers my sadness for the loss, but not the actual memory?  Or it just might be inspired storytelling.  And funnily enough, the character I cared about the most was Sadness.  The catharsis, the reflection, the stepping into adulthood, all of them have to do with Sadness.  The movie is not sweet, not a riot like TS or MI, but unforgettable for completely different reasons.

Movie #2 – Star Wars, the minority edition.  A girl pilot, a black storm trooper, a white villain and a Middle Eastern (?) daredevil.

Movie #3 – Spectre, am saving my vitriol for the last.  Argh!  The stupid theme song was the beginning.  I thought it was a girl singing.  And the romancing is just silly this time around.  The widow is just rescued and Bond’s slobbering over her, or she him, I can’t tell.  The worst was the love interest.  He’s disarming nuclear weapons and is confused on how to handle a woman?  The assasin Mr White has his children’s photograph in the same room where he keeps his torture tapes?  They narrowly escape death, destroying a train car in the process and at the end of it, they maul each other instead of getting out of explaining the destruction?  He’s off to save the world and she’s breaking up with him?!  Oh, the villain chooses a life of crime because his father took Bond hunting?  And at the end, love conquers hate with Bond walking away to his gf as the villain looks at him.  Corny!!  Verper Lynd – that’s the best portrayal, by far!