A Few Handpicked Letters #16
Anniversary Edition | On Battles; fighting them or waiting them out
Dear Reader,
It has been a year since I started sending out these letters and for me, this one year seemed so very long. There were some huge changes, adventures and a lot of learning. I am going to tell you something that I have been struggling with. The point of me writing these letters is to connect with you all, lay down all the cards that I have, to dissect them and get something out of all of it, for you and me, to hold on to. So here it goes.
During the last one year, I travelled to quite a few places. Himachal Pradesh had always been a dreamland that I transported myself into, finally! I took my parents to Varanasi. I went on a solo trip to Rajasthan and then to Ladakh. Last week, I just got back from completing the Chardham Yatra with my mother. I learnt how to swim, how to drive and attended pottery classes. I may seem to have seen, experienced and conquered so much and yet, I don’t feel like I did anything worthwhile. My friends told me that they were all looking at my life with envy and I cannot see anything in me even praiseworthy. The infamous imposter syndrome that apparently has been intruding in so many lives.
You probably don’t believe me.
The way I look at myself is this; I had a well paying job that I quit because I couldn’t handle that well. I had my own space in Bangalore which started feeling too big for me. I left all of it and ran back home. I never enjoyed my job while it lasted and now I have to go back to the same nightmare. I took a one year break and have nothing to show for it! I don’t have any of the achievements that people my age have; I am not married, I don’t have children, I don’t have much savings (most of what I had, I spent traveling), I have never gone outside India, I don’t have a house of my own or a car. While people my age are handling their families, job, promotions, have their own house, car and some even have side hustles, I don’t have anything to show for the 35 years of my life. Everyone I meet are at least proud of one thing in their lives and I can’t think of anything.
Dear Reader, you should know that I am baring my deepest insecurities by putting this out here. It is very difficult for me. I don’t know why I am doing this except for the fact that this is how I would write this letter today if I were to put a pen to paper.
I have been battling these thoughts subconsciously for years. During the last one year, they have been intruding into my conscious mind and affecting my daily life. I have been working on myself with a therapist and the patterns have begun to make sense, ever so slightly. I realised how it is not the society that is holding me back anymore. I compare myself with others and I measure myself against the milestones set by the society. What the society started, I have been continuing. I have been cutting the wounds deeper, because I am used to doing that.
Though years of sabotage cannot be undone in a short while, I have been learning how to stop it. But along with it comes the self blame narratives. I could have noticed it earlier, and started my healing journey earlier which is again other ways of self sabotage. I have been going into an overdrive of looking too closely and critically at myself, constantly correcting myself which has been taking a toll on me.
This isn’t a letter that is going to end with ‘I overcame my problems and came out the other end’. This probably is a reality check. I am learning to shed the shame around all of this and baring my scars and you can feel free to hit reply and bare yours. I am magnificently messed up and confused. I had been feeling better during the last 2 days. I was bawling my eyes out a day before that. But I also know that I have been worse. I feel like I have opened a can of worms within myself and like my sister puts it, I hope that at least now, I could clean them out. But apparently it’s not just one can of worms that needs clearing off. It is also all the cobwebs, clutter and spillage that has been rotting inside the cupboard where the can was kept. It is a war with multiple battles and we are fighting them one at a time which is why it feels so long. Sometimes I am fighting the same battle over and over again. I know that because sometimes I know how to fight it. It becomes a little easier.
And sometimes, some battles aren’t fought. You wait it through. Like winters. You can’t fight your way into summer. You can’t resist a winter. The only way is through. I am sorting through my battles; fighting some, waiting through some and though I have no idea how to make that choice, I think I am learning to.
Every time I write to you, I make so many mental notes. I want to tell you about my Ladakh trip, my Kedarnath trek, and my Rajasthan trip, I want to share some glimmers that I find on an otherwise mundane day. But I find it difficult to execute my plans of writing about them. Maybe I will get there eventually.
I am off on another adventure. This time, it is very different from anything that I have done before. I am off to Vipassana. It is a meditation technique which is imparted over a 10 day period or more. During this period, we are expected to meditate throughout the day, maintain silence and minimize any contact with the external world. I am looking forward to this experience. My train is in 3 hours and before that I wanted to stick to one thing that I have been doing religiously for the past one year; writing to you.
I hope this letter gave you something, anything, to think about. As always, you can write a letter back to me by replying to this one. Also, since it has been a year of A Few Handpicked Letters, I would love your feedback on these letters. What can I improve? What more would you like to read about from me? Do you have any questions?
As always, I am leaving you with a picture I clicked. This one is from Kedarnath. The last 500 meter of the 22 Kms trek. This is the point where you want to give up, but you won’t. This is where it plays with that last ounce of energy in you.
Until next time, wishing you a beautiful, spooky October,
Ranjini S