11: 60 Minutes

11 Jan

It was over a whatsapp conversation with V, a couple of weeks ago, which reinforced this very special and indulgent (almost) idea of me time. I’m all for it, to be honest. And I don’t care if the world thinks I’m being selfish, haha! Ever since I quit my job and relocated cities, I’ve had only time at hand, and a rather volatile idle mind to accompany it most times. Sometimes I read, sometimes I draw or paint, sometimes I go out for a walk if the weather permits one, sometimes I cook or bake, and sometimes I just be. These are conscious periods of time I take out to engage in these particular activities for my self. So while I do read, cook, bake, listen to music, or just do random other stuff to keep me occupied most of the time, I’d over time, I guess, forgotten to be conscious of the things I was doing for just my self; irrespective of whether whatsapp chats were bursting at their seams or if phone calls came in a dozen.

One day I sent a random message to V when my mind was foggier than I’d have liked it to be and I needed some distraction. Soon after, as is when chatting with my girls, a conversation ensued. I’m thankful and so grateful for some friendships, and my girlfriends of course. More often than not, these same girls I once shared not just a classroom bench with, make me realise with an almost breathtaking cognizance, that I’m never alone. Friends double your joy and halve your sorrow, they say, and so it is. Of course these are your pillars that don’t freeload off your energy and emotional pools leaving you parched and incomplete. Anyhoo, while we were conversing, she reminded me of this absolute therapy, that is, my time – to consciously take an hour or more if you can spare it, to do something only for yourself. And there we had it, eureka.

Ever since, I’ve very actively removed a small chunk of time for myself to do as I please – and the outcome of it has been miraculous. I’ve managed to read more books than I had during all of 2016, painted more paintings than I had all of 2016, and tried yoga after so, so many years. When V told me about her go-to, which is yoga, I promptly scoffed and said that’s not my thang; much the same way I tell ma this every time she recommends yoga, pranayam and meditation to me. But I tried it, and it left me feeling calm in a zen endorphin way. Ever since, I have lost my temper less, been calmer more often, taken the zen route more than the path of war, and of course, I think I’m feeling more healthy both mentally and emotionally.

She also told me jump 20 times, which I’ve conveniently ignored.

This isn’t a yoga promotion by any means, as much as it is about the significance of giving to oneself what we give so freely and abundantly to others – a lot of ourselves. Because I also am addicted to my phone, and to thinking, it’s an enormous challenge to pick stillness and stay with it for that chosen period of time. It’s astounding how absolutely stubborn and restless my mind really is. There’s so much to patch up from the immense healing powers we have within ourselves, and while the first few days have been difficult and painful (because yoga is not for pussies), the discipline to give my mind and body this time is making itself felt, and heard (oh my joints!).




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