In the seven or so years we’ve lived across the street from Albert and Laurie, we’ve chatted a dozen or so times – usually about the weather, or the cherry blossoms. We wave and we smile with sincere cheer. When my son was born, Laurie brought over apple cobbler. And that’s about the extent of our relationship. I can’t even recall their last name, but I remember what their kid was for Halloween, and I know that Albert sails.

And now I know that Laurie is having a hard time breathing.

Jump cut to Albert in front of my house, leaning against his garden rake. My eyes filled with quiet tears. “Albert,” I warned. “I’m going to hug you.” We hugged and talked briefly about treatment possibilities. And I offered to water their plants or bring over dinner. And that was that.

I did the math: when I’m Laurie’s age, about fifty, my son will be a teenager like hers is now. And I thought about how inconceivably ripped off I’d feel to be called out of this life in my mere fifties. I wondered if Laurie is regretting anything. I wondered if she’s happy with how she’s lived her life – if she’s felt…free.

And I noticed that I was asking those same questions of myself, actually. And just when I was about to go back on existential autopilot with, “people get sick, people die, that’s life,” I decided to allow myself to be affected. I decided that not only is life short, but MY life is short. And that being the case, I need to fill my cup with a little more delight and inspiration.

So this week, I’m taking my kid out of daycare early and we’re going to the art gallery. I’m going to burn some CDs for friends, just because, and I’m going to actually CALL some friends. (Radical…picking up the phone instead of pressing “send”). I’m going to give myself the space to think about truth and pop culture. I’m going to meander and weave and warble out some thoughts that have been sitting on the branches of my mind for awhile.

This means that I’m going to take a week off from blogging. My palms are kind of sweaty. It’s almost blasphemous for a serious blogger to not have daily content. Will my traffic slip? Will they still love me? Oi. And what timing! I’m featured in the May issue of Better Homes & Gardens (albeit in my last business incarnation), and I’m booking up my LA and Portland Fire Starter gigs. I should be diligently at the helm. Should be….should be….

My life is short, no matter how long it ends up being. It is bigger than web stats, my heart is larger than “should.” Inspiration lives beyond expectation. I’m going to inhale it more deeply, while I can.

And both can be diametrically opposite.

Besides, man can use borrowed powers: the powers developed by peaceful intelligent people can be used by destructive, unintelligent people. Creative growth solutions meant for peace and development can be used for destruction, genocide and terror. This combination of delusion and acquired potency brings forth counterfeit leaders and politicians and a hollow or forced governing system.

Every governing system no matter how beneficently conceived eventually tends to exploit the weaker segments of society. History shows us many examples of the worst implementations of benign ideologies. Communism conceived for equality and sanity has been applied by most insane dictators. Equal powers for all is used as all powers for one. Karl Marx and Lenin could never have imagined communism the way it was applied by Stalin.

Albert Einstein considered the theory of relativity that resulted in atom bomb, as his single greatest mistake in life. On the other hand, Harry Truman celebrated the night Hiroshima and Nagasaki were bombed.

Money that was invented as an excellent solution for relative worth has become the root of all evil among humans. A solution designed for active easy flow became an excellent method for passive, concealed hoardings.

Any creative idea comes as a coin: with both positive and negative sides. The owner is free to encash any of its sides. He is free to buy bread or poison from it. Ironically nature has no substitutes for wisdom. And it has no shortcuts to acquiring it either. Hard earned knowledge always carries wisdom within itself whereas book-acquired knowledge doesn’t. A life lived honestly and fearlessly produces knowledgeable and wise men: men with empathy, righteousness and intelligence.

Contrarily, pseudo knowledge earned in degrees, skills and techniques results in egotistical, destructive and rigid men. Men who do not know the worth or effect of power never hesitate to use it for wrong reasons.

It is a paradox that the more knowledgeable a person becomes the less he yearns for power. It seems as if in some warped way, power attracts the corruptible. A wise person will always hesitate to lead masses whereas an immature person will always rush towards it. So much so that he wouldn’t object to crushing others to succeed in his ambitions. Men love to reap where they never sowed.

Acquiring power helps a person ignore or hide his inferiorities or complexes.

But the fact remains that the big shots are only little shots that keep on shooting. Contemporary society which confuses power with greatness, has encouraged this mutation to flourish. Our social system has a tendency to respect the wrong attributes in subtle ways. The human power pyramid is working upside down. Rather than respecting individuals we respect possessions. This is one of the greatest tragedies of life as we know it to be.

Without a doubt….the right power in right hands blended with knowledge, wisdom, love and respect for life is humanity’s most urgent need at this time.

My grandfather was Leonard Alphonse Laporte. (Note the small ‘p’ in LaPorte – in high school I decided a capital P was more elegant.) Like most French Canadian grand-daughters, I called him Pepe (Pip-ay). Len sold the family farm and bought a small bike repair shop and built it into a popular sporting goods store in Windsor, Ontario, just ‘cross the Detroit border. So for Christmas I got soccer balls and ice skates. I wanted the hard cover edition of the Little House on The Prairie and some oil pastels. Every family has a black sheep.

Baaaaah. As a modern-minded, progressive chick, I’ve spent a vast amount of energy re-defining myself. And that has usually meant looking forward, getting far away from backwards and roots and origins. Far away from Hockey Night in Canada, and Chrysler, and trailer camping. I spent most of my adult life living in the US, working in communications, aspiring to relax in four-star hotels.

AFFINITY AND APPRECIATION ARE MUTUALLY EXCLUSIVE
I’m not embarrassed about where I came from, I just never felt like it was the right home for my spirit. I never felt deeply connected to it. And if there’s a lack of connection, there is often a lack of appreciation. And while connection isn’t something that can be forced, appreciation is something that can actually be fostered. By celebrating our origins – even if they have little resemblance to our ideals – we call forth our wholeness, a greater love.

Even if you intensely do not want to turn into your mother, there’s something beautiful about her that also lives in you. Whether it’s country clubs or country music that makes you want to hurl, there’s something about growing up in a radically different scene that’s added to your street smarts, your grace, your grit. Finding the charm factor where we’ve long felt sour is the stuff of wisdom…and relief.

By plucking out the strands of delight, those fibers of nourishment from even the most ill-fitting situations, we can weave ourselves a stronger fabric of identity. A heavy material that makes us durable, or something softened by surrendered love. Warmer. More colourful.

When I think about my pip, I feel thankful to have come from a family of hard workers who know how to party. I’m happy for the trailer park where I sneaked my first smoke, for Sunday masses that showed me the glory of faith, and for growing up in an industry town that taught me about big hair and bling. (You can take the girl out of the small town, but she’ll always wanna have big hair.)

What do you love about your origins?

A well known painter friend of mine once said that having an art show is like “pulling down your pants in public.” My favourite mystery quote about acting is, “acting is like being naked on stage and turning around very very slowly.” People ask me if I get nervous before a big speaking gig. My answer, “If I’m not nervous, I’m in trouble.”

It’s not so much nervousness as it is delighted-but-anxious butterflies that are reminding me that: the stakes are high when you’re hanging your story out for all to hear; screwing up would suck severely; and that the universe is rooting for you…but don’t screw up. On the rare occasion when I have NOT felt some butterflies, when I’ve been smug {one of my least favourite human behaviors} and thought to myself, “slam dunk, I’ve got this in the bag,” then I was either less-than-amazing, or I didn’t really care and shouldn’t have been there in the first place.

HOW TO MAKE DOUBT WORK FOR YOU:

1. Smug is the enemy of excellence. If you’re not even slightly doubtful or anxious about your performance, talents, contributions, or big presentation, than you better generate yourself some positive doubt. Lance Armstrong doesn’t enter the race thinking it’s a done deal. He knows he could lose so he tries harder to win. No matter how many times you’ve performed the surgery, made the sale, or given the pitch, you’re not infallible. Play to your audience. Be present. Watch for cues. Refine your intentions.

2. Bring YOU forward, along with your doubts. “Naked” and “artist” are often used in the same context because true self expression is a form of vulnerability. And it’s that exposure, that authenticity that makes all the difference. Whether you’re writing a report or teaching yoga class, sincerity is the winning formula.

3. Anxiety is healthy. A little bit of anxiety opens the doors to possibilities and strength…adrenaline, clarity. It’s a rush telling you that you’re alive and that you can do it – even if you need to put the doubts firmly in their place – you can do it.

Before almost every Fire Starter session or stage gig I have a mini moment of doubt and think to myself, “I really hope I can be of some use here,” Or, “If this crowd doesn’t laugh in the first three minutes, I’m cooked.” And then I take a deep breath and smile. And my butterflies and I head out to take flight.

When I asked a class to talk about someone they considered a great leader, all of them identified leaders in history, or famous business personalities. Names like Gandhi, Trudeau, and Trump were mentioned. Then they asked me whom I considered a leader.

I said my grandfather was a great leader. In North America, hardly anyone knows my grandfather. But he was a visionary, and he didn’t brag about it. Decades after his passing, we’re discovering how much he’s contributed to the town he grew up in.

Actually, I told them, anyone could be a leader. The organizer of a non-profit organization, a school principal, a small business owner, and even your own mother, can be a leader. You see, it does not matter how famous a person gets, or how high up an organization a person climbs. It is about how the person influences the people around him/her in a positive and uplifting way to expand their awareness about themselves and life as a whole.

So-called leaders like Donald Trump and Lee Iaccoca are always talking about themselves. “See what I’ve done. I’m a great leader.” If they make mistakes, they blame someone else or the environment.

The real leaders don’t even identify themselves as such. They just do what they think makes a difference. They apologize for mistakes they make – they are accountable. They don’t take credit; they pass it on to the people who helped. They don’t call themselves great leaders. Someone else will along the way. Perhaps most importantly, they always choose service over self-interest; they always put others first. My wish is to find and recognize the leaders in our midst.

CEO, #1, Captain, President, The Leader.
Who cares. It’s just business, moving parts, day to day. You can be replaced.

Mother. Father. Teacher.
Aside from single parents caring for little ones, you’re just not the only influence in your children’s lives. They may not even want to stick around when they grow up. You may never be thanked. They will find their way with or without you.

Lover. Partner. So-called Significant Other.
Replaceable. And God knows, as a partner, you can certainly be improved upon.

You’re one in a about six and half billion. A speck. A blink in the eye of God. A nano micro weeny zip in the eons of time and vastness of space. No one’s happiness really depends on you – no one’s. People can take care of themselves like they always have. It’s most likely that one hundred years from now, nobody will so much as mention your name.

You’re just passing through, and times flies.

Life will go on with or without you.

How does it feel to consider that?

Tune in tomorrow for Part Two.

Monitors left on in a non-power save mode, all lights switched on in-spite of the streaming sunlight, and A/C units blasting full-on and you know we are back in business. In the pantry, coffee shots from the vending machine are foamier and thicker. Teabags (ginger, lemon, mint and honey — the whole lot) came out of the locked cupboards for the benefit of the whole gentry. Rest rooms have the same cheerful telltale signs. The toilet paper thickness has increased and once more air fresheners are discreetly tucked in strategic locations. Result? Fewer people walking out like ducks treading gingerly on shredded glass.

HR folks have lost their pre-eminence at the lunch tables as purveyors of juicy tidbits. Pink is still the color of the season, but only with reference to tickling that subordinates are subjected to and the Boss’ lame jokes are back in circulation. Everybody is chirping away to glory, discussing aloud the projects they are on, and they those they wish to get to so that they don’t have to work hard like they pretended to, during the last 8 months or so of the economic turmoil.

I am as happy as any underpaid, overworked employee who has ever swiped his card for all the above. But being a person cursed with a bit of extra memory that crams in unwanted trivia, I am slightly worried too. Occupying the lower rungs of the corporate ladder, it is very important for all of us to remember lessons that the recession hard-knocks diploma (it will last 18 months elsewhere, and a little over 12 months here is my prediction) have taught us. And here’s one that I learnt not so long ago.

Once upon a time, there was a washerman who had few asses working for him, carrying a mountain of dirty laundry of the entire population of the village and dutifully taking them to the cleaners. It was a prosperous time and every member of the village was extravagant, using three changes of clothes every day and wearing each only once before they sent them for cleaning. Business was brisk, the W-man could and did look after his asses pretty well, treating them to best of the fodder, choicest nibbles and outings every weekends. The asses too were extremely happy and many a occasion used to raise their braying to an absolute crescendo during the once-too-often bacchanalian revelries that the W-man threw. Life was one long beautiful song!

But all good things have to come to an end. Recession hit that idyllic village and everyone fell on hard times. People migrated or were forced to leave due to the conditions of the day. From an indulgence, getting one’s clothes washed turned to a luxury. It was a good week, if they were able to give out one set of clothes for washing. People got used to wrapping themselves in sweaty, stain dotted threads. The stench was reaching high skies but hey who cares! A penny saved is a penny earned.

That spelt doom for the W-man. With business drying up and money running out to feed all the asses even for sustenance, he had but few tough and heart-wringing choices before him:
• Let some asses go or
• Keep all asses
From being a mentor the first choice effectively turns him into a heart-less tormentor in the eyes of the asses. The second will make him an easy target for the ruthless taxmen of the king (cost-controllers is the other title they go by); or worse get the villagers’ vitriolic tongues wagging about his supposed extravagance. Alas, it also pits his asses in direct competition with a handful horses and loads of bulls that populate the ranches of other working class folks of the village. And if there ever comes a time of rationing out the grass in the village he very well knows where the asses stand.

Prudently the W-man did away with a few of his asses thereby taking the moral high ground. Over the next few weeks, the asses talked amongst themselves on the future course of action. All but one ass thought it wise to find greener pastures to eke out a course on their own. ‘Entrepreneur-ass’ they were dubbed, by a lone ass which lacked both courage and wherewithal to take that step. So it came to stay back with the master, not much work to do, still getting enough grass and water to get through the tough times.

Some more time passed, and the recession seemed like a cold and inferior cheese dragging on and on without a break in sight. It was getting difficult for the W-man to maintain the ass; for the load now was such that he alone could carry it. Thinking about it and wandering hither and thither he walked well into the adjoining jungle and found a dead tiger. Aha, the W-man had a lightning thought and swung into quick action. The thought was simple. Use the tiger skin to cover his ass and send it into the fields of other villagers and let it feed to its heart’s content. That way he gets to offload the cost of employing (err..feeding) the ass but he still gets to keep it. To act is but the work of a moment. He skinned the tiger (dead and cold, it sure was) skillfully and threw the skin over the ass. Perfect. The ass turns into a tiger! While letting it lose in other’s fields, the W-man had just one advice for it – “SHHHHH!”

The plot worked well and the ass got more than its worth in grass! It could taste different things everyday without ever getting detected. Few who could see through the dark night, feared this new breed of tiger that fed on grass and were happy that at least they didn’t have to face a man-eater.

But alas, good times don’t last. Especially for that creature whose DNA is that of an ass. All the green and tasty grass, coming free and surreptitiously as it did, made the ass get above itself. Throwing caution and the W-man’s prudent advice to wind, one full moon night at the end of a perfectly fulfilling meal, it thought of celebrating the occasion with a full-on song and dance! And how! Within moments of the said lapse of reasoning (a rare commodity by itself in an ass) its cover got blown and all the villagers descended upon it with vengeance.

It’s not for me to get into the gory details and aftermath. Will spare you folks the same but for the lesson that small yet moving story taught me. When a good thing is going and you are sneaking in and snacking on it, you are well advised to curb your enthusiasm and make the most of it. Thanks, My Ass!

On the same day while returning home, I got a cab near to my office which was going directly to my suburb. Unfortunately there was a hectic traffic jam. As the cab driver was in a hurry to reach his destination, he took diversions into various side streets to avoid the traffic jam. One route he had taken was very close to my apartment and so I got an opportunity to be dropped off just in front of my door. I felt relieved and my bad mood dissipated altogether.

This was a simple instance of the duality that punctuates our existence. While experiencing a stressful situation in the morning by having to walk 3 kilometers to get to my office, in the evening I regained my balance as I was dropped off just in front of my apartment and arrived home very early.

Morning it was a pain; evening it was a gain.

This simple experience reminded me that life is about cycles and we must experience complementary opposites in every facet of existence.

Within every 24 hours we have bright daylight and dark nights. Dark nights are automatically followed by sun-drenched days and vice versa. We have gotten used to the cycle and never doubt that one will follow the other.

Similarly our life cycle is about phases of success and failure, happiness and sorrow and so on. But the only difference is that we do not know the time frame for our personal cycles; it is not fixed like the 24 hour day and night rotation so we all tend to get dejected during our down cycles. However we must remember that although we may not know exactly when one cycle will end and the next cycle of our lives will begin….we do know it will happen….It is a fixed law of the universe and in this fact we must find solace and wait patiently for the season to change.

“Well that sounds like a whole lotta of freaking fun.” I said to her. And I asked the waiter to bring me a Coke.

Here’s the thing: As hard-wired achievement-bots many of us subscribe to systems of success that actually become blockages to our instincts. Structures, programs, regimes, all disciplines and theories should be used to support your freedom and independent thinking, but many serve to stifle our truth.

Curiosity and sensation are exponentially more effective than obeying the rules.

One of my best friends and I have a sick tradition. We get excited about each others’ hardship. One of us will be sniffling through an out-pour of angst about how wrenching a particular life lesson is, and isn’t it crazy how when it rains it pours with shitty news, and turmoil, and big life do-overs. You know, those excruciating disappointments and Tough Spots – the kind that require a friend to help you navigate.

Sniffle. Silence.

And then the listener on the other end of the line replies, “Holy suck factor. But, you know … I’m kinda excited for you.” And then the other one of us blows her nose and says, “Yeah, I know, it’s great.” And we’re not joking. But we laugh at that absurdity and our sheer effing moxy, and then the other person goes back to whining and processing while the listener resumes her role as the receptacle of angst out-pour.

And we believe it. We believe in the divinity of the suck factor. It’s an implicit, and lived, and affirmed understanding: that the universe trades up. That as Camus and kd lang said, “In the depth of winter I found in me there was an invincible summer.” Or as Nietzsche and Bruce Willis put it, “What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.” Or at least more expanded. And that’s very exciting. And excitement about getting to the other side is just what you need to get there.

Women who seek to be equal with men lack ambition. –Timothy Leary.

Mr/Mrs God created the universe in opposites. Presence and absence. So we have day and night. So what is absent in the day is present in the night and vice versa. The day offers you lots of energy and enterprise. This is what helps man make a good living. On the other hand, the night offers calmness and creativity. So this duality of day-night results is a complete, holistic life, that is, time to make a living and time to process the joy of living. Now who on the planet can tell me which is more important or less necessary and why?

Let us understand this in the light of the times and factors that contributed to building this pattern of behaviour among humans. When in the primitive shelters like caves, man because of his physical strength and ability had to fight it out with the weather and wild animals, while the woman was the one who had to be protected and to be supplied the food.

Also every time she had to carry their child for long nine months (without even the most basic medical facilities, she would become entirely dependent on her man). This was the norm even when she reared the child and he ventured out to do all that was needed for his family’s survival. He could not bear, feed and breed the child because of his anatomy and she could not run, hunt and fight the brutal wild animals because of her specialized anatomy. He brought the food and she prepared some semblance of a meal. Till this point, none of them thought of the other as being superior or more important. There was no comparison, just an appreciation for the mutually supportive roles of the man and the woman.

This was before man became a social animal. As soon as he became socialized and tribal living ended, things began to change as the roles of males and females were questioned by each other. The spectre of comparison began to rear its head with the thought that  between the ‘day’ (man) and ‘night’ (woman), man was better and more important, hence he became dominant and oppressive. And woman felt she was  less important so she felt dominated and oppressed.

In the times that we are living in, there’s no need for useless comparisons. How can you compare day and night? Can day exist without night and night without the day? One cannot exist without the other. Day and night, like man and woman, are nothing but two different software programmes that run on the same hardware and operating system. So you can compare them for example, only if you can compare Microsoft Office and Microsoft Media Player. We are at fault when we say, “Woman can do everything that man can do and more”. Why waste yourself in doing what man can already do for you? Why and how is earning a meal better than cooking a meal?

My message to all the differently talented, skilled, programmed but restless female half of the human race is: It’s about time you stop comparing yourself to and liberating yourself from men. Enjoy your power as a woman and your role as a nurturer as you complement and balance the human equation to make it whole.

One such effort with a very mind boggling title came my way, thanks to my daughter who bought this book, read it as well, and goaded me to do the same, a few months ago. I could not do so then, because my mind was preoccupied with more pressing matters.

On this week end, however, it not only rained, it poured, and that too at a time when I was all set to drive to the golf course for an eagerly awaited tee off. But thanks to the weather, I was stopped in my tracks. I was restless and impatient, and did not know what to do. As I sat pondering, I happen to glance at this book on my side table. I picked it up at around 3 pm on that bleak Sunday afternoon. I did not put it down till well past midnight. Such is the power of expression in this effort by Subroto Bagchi — a successful self made man and a first generation entrepreneur who has lived a rewarding corporate life culminating in the founding of one of the most admired business corporations of India — Mindtree.

The book uniquely titled as, Go Kiss The World is:
A story of endless endurance.
An unending stride for excellence.
A saga of patience and perseverance.
An example of painful but rewarding diligence.

That title itself is so catchy and commanding. A command that the author’s mother lovingly gives him when he is at her bedside, just before she is about to take her last breath. What a wonderful command…reminds me of Napoleon and his famous words: Give me Good Mothers and I shall Give you a Good Nation!.

The book has been written in a very simple and effective narrative style. It is full of real time experiences shared with readers through a unique elan. The author describes and reflects about choices made, stances taken, learning, unlearning and relearning all the time. He speaks about never retiring as long as one lives and gives the reasons why through living, breathing examples.

It essentially meanders through four decades of the life of a unique professional who ‘values values’ most, beginning in a nascent corporate India of the fifties and sixties and successfully culminating in the blooming first decade of India in the 21st century. Through examples of corporate life lived through a smattering of well-chosen anecdotes, the author has magnanimously made it possible for the budding entrepreneurs of India, to learn from others’ experiences and mistakes. How thoughtful of him.

With the love and support of a humble father and devoted mother, the author commences his journey by first excelling as an NCC cadet in his early twenties, and then later in his late forties, as a priced team member and think tank core team member, of the famous entrepreneur; Azeem Premji of WIPRO repute. He excelled and went from strength to strength.

Then when he has it all — wealth, power, and influence, he finds he is more restless and ill at ease than ever before.

After money what?…is a question several leaders who ‘value values’ have asked themselves. The author aptly cites the example of Warren Buffet here and goes on to advocate his theory that money beyond $10,000 does not lead to happiness, as sought!

In that very spirit, the author, at the pinnacle of his career, with two daughters well settled in universities in USA, this co-founder of Mindtree, requests that he be allowed to step down and work as “a gardener”…gardening was something he learnt, loved, cherished and enjoyed doing as a child along with his mother in the simple rural settings of Orissa where he grew up.

In the end, the author has very benignly summed up the very true and meaningful lessons to be imbibed by anyone who is seeking a deeper meaning to existence beyond the call of material success. A delightfully written and essentially a must- read book for everyone, but especially young leaders in the making. As I too have now decided to Go And Kiss The World!

We’re so occupied with home improvement and self-improvement that it’s difficult to see the true self that’s underneath. Who are you fixing, anyway? Do you know? Maybe you don’t need improving at all. Perhaps your original self is more beautiful than you even imagined.

Freedom worships inquiry. The truth is far easier to deal with than illusion, evasion or avoidance. You can wrap your arms around it. You can look it in the eye. You can take it to the bank. I think Saint Thomas had it right, “What you bring forth will save you. What you don’t bring forth will kill you.” Truth frees.

Stop looking for the answers.
Look for the question.
What question are you living?

{FYI my current living question came to me from Patti Digh and I’ve been noodling on it with glee for a few weeks now: “If my art provided everything I need in my life, how would I approach my life?” Ahh. Just the inquiry itself creates space in my heart for more.}

Rilke hit it home when he proclaimed: Live the questions, live them now!

So…?

No one is exempt from life’s polarities.

Sometime ago I read a Jewish folk tale about the wise king, Soloman. The king had asked his ministers to find a magical ring which could make a sad man instantly happy and a happy man instantly sad. One of his intelligent ministers gave him a simple ring with the following words engraved – This too shall pass. He then asked the King to look at this ring at moments when he is either happy or sad.

In our life, we encounter happy or sad moments daily. When it happens we get swept away by the moment, feeling elated, angry, sad or overwhelmed and we lose our sense of balance or inner equilibrium.

The right approach at this transient time would be to maintain our balance, accept and learn from the moment, take it in our stride while remaining detached. Become an observer instead of being a victim of circumstances – remember this moment too shall pass.

The concept of a book starts within someone who is restless with a concept. So restless that he cannot keep it to himself. He feels like sharing it with anyone who’s interested. He becomes like a live volcano wanting to erupt and express itself. It takes days, months, years and sometimes a lifetime for a writer to put down all his thoughts in a book. But when it does, he feels spent and fulfilled at the same time.

Most people read books either to be entertained or to seek information. Some also read to find what someone else thinks. But the real worth of reading is when one reads a book to read his own mind.

I am referring to those unexplored, untouched and hidden sparks of wisdom that can be excavated within us only when we resonate with a like minded writer through the medium of a book. I am talking about those “Ahh! I know exactly what you mean…” moments in reading when one comes across statements which you can claim as your own because they have been nestling in your head or at the tip of your tongue, waiting to come out. Sometimes you feel jealous of the writer for having written it before you.

Swami Vivekananda in one of his very intense speeches proclaimed that there’s no knowledge that comes from the outside the mind. My interpretation of this assertion is that all knowledge and wisdom are perennially seeded in the mind. Like with dry wood, the potential of fire is always present, it just needs the spark to light it. The fire in it is “sushupta”, subdued and subconscious. But it’s there. The author through his book tries to ignite the fire in the reader’s mind. But if the wood is wet, then nothing can fire it. This wet wood represents the state of a closed mind when it is heavy and dense with preconceived notions.

There are really only two types of books. One type feeds escapism and entertainment impulses and the other opens up your mind to allows you access to long-seeded ideas that need expression. I lust after the latter because it ignites the fire of self-exploration in me. I am passionate about this kind of book because it has a transformative effect on me as I connect to the writer on a deep level. It feeds my hunger for answers and self-expression. The book becomes an intimately shared bond with the writer and allows me to expand my mind and consciousness which is one of my primary purposes in life. Book lust is a fascinating addiction….don’t you think?

You have to cut out the best part.
You have to detach from your brilliance.
You have to trust that the whole piece is better the individual shiny parts that make you seem clever or wise.

So that sexy slogan … That rapier wit one-liner … That fancy feature or added customer service … if those gems are throwing the whole package or project or intention off kilter, then they probably need to be slashed.

Final works of art find harmony. In even vulgar, dramatic, and absurd works of art there can be a high degree of cohesion and that’s what accounts for its impact. That’s where skill comes in. You can be as wildly inspired and as daring as you want, but if you don’t know the rule of thirds, or a bit of colour theory, or how to help the members of your jazz trio be heard in fusion, then you run the risk of tampering with the objective, which is to create art that conveys.

It’s easy to get attached to our inspired moments and what they produce. Those aha’s are a rush. And the rush is good, it’s essential in fact. Let it move you forward instead of rooting you to one place, or one ray of light. Let your clever bits and genius fuel your courage rather than your ego. Diamonds shine only after they’ve been cut.

When we are frustrated we lose patience and the ability to be civil to others. This generation needs patience more than its predecessors. Those were the days when people received letters by the snail mail post, weeks after they were sent and they would welcome them with enthusiasm and excitement. Now we are complaining about our computer speed and how we can improve it by nanoseconds. We have taken our speedy information access and work beyond human levels with our man-made machines and now we have grown impatient with any activity that is slow and time-consuming. Thus, impatience has become a social disease.

How do we cultivate patience? One word: FAITH. We must learn to have faith in our fate and ourselves. Faith that, in the end, everything is meant to be fine, and if it’s not as we anticipated then it’s not the end. Order, rather than chaos is the ultimate goal of the universe. So whenever you look, look at the bigger picture, which is the more accurate one. Remember, “Our patience will achieve more than our force,” said Edmund Burke.

The other thing we tend lose quickly is our head. The familiar demons of temper outbursts and long-abiding anger keep haunting us. This happens because either we try to control situations according to our rules or we believe that we haven’t been given enough control by others. Let us get one thing as clear. For whatever reason we might be here, it has nothing to do with controlling anything. So why stretch?

Now, how do you keep a cool head? Again, one word: AVOID. Try to reduce your passion for the things that arouse your anger. Try not to belong to the things that hurt you. The only thing you belong to is your spirit. Everything else is meant to distract or destroy you – but only if you allow it to happen. If there’s a particular person, reason, or passion that test your temper then remove it from your life or get yourself out of the situation. Escape it or avoid it.

The only unavoidable thing in life is death.

Finally to sign it off….Life’s real wisdom lies in taking serious things lightly and light things seriously.

The peace. The humility. The sheer devotion. Getting to Christ In The Desert was a pilgrimage that my cells thirsted for. It’s worth mentioning here that I considered being a nun when I was about six years old. Then I learned what celibacy was and heard that there was a lot of cleaning involved in convent life, and I asked Jesus for his forgiveness because I just knew I wasn’t going to make the cut. I decided I wanted my own variety show, like Cher. Religion, cabaret…it’s all a kind of intense theater of passion.

I arrived just in time for prayer. The monks sing their prayers. Glorious Gregorian chants echoed against the baked clay walls. My heart swelled. Tho’ the heavy sin-trip of the Psalm wasn’t lost on me, I was swept away by the beauty of it all. And I so needed to be swept away. When the chants concluded and the monks filed out behind the tabernacle, I was able to be alone in the chapel for a long, sweet time. I thought about hope – which I have a very cantankerous relationship with. And I thought about priorities of the most divine kind. My priorities have been bumping against each other for a while now – clanking around and grinding down my heart. The focus of my trip was to put my so called priorities on the altar. Smash few. Polish some. Reorganize them to sync with my soul.

“Above all, prayer holds the first place in the monk’s day and nothing must be preferred to this activity. Prayer involves coming into contact with divine life, in openness to the mystery of love which is written in our hearts.” The monks are encouraged to stop their chores if they feel inspired to pray. The passion to pray comes before work and all other tasks. The Brothers pray seven times in day in collective chanting and in solitude. Seven times a day.

So many mornings I have chosen email over meditation. I let deadlines rank over a stretch or a cuddle or a glass of water swallowed slowly and appreciated. I override the call to feel myself – the call to pray, or meditate, or be fully awake. Prayer comes in all forms and each one spoken brings grace to the day.

Thank you. Yes. Have mercy. Keep them safe. How lovely. Courage, please. I love you.

Our hearts are the altars. Ours days, when lived awake, are another chance to know the joys of what matters most. Attend first to the divine and the work at hand becomes art.

Saraswati is my #1 Goddess. She rules what I dig most. I’m surprised she’s not up there with Kali and Aphrodite in mass popularity. Saraswati is regarded as the Goddess of knowledge and the arts. She represents consciousness and wisdom, is regarded as the goddess of sound and speech, and is revered as the dispeller of chaos and confusion. As she is the wife of Brahma, she is also seen as the co-creator of the universe. Her name means ‘the flowing’ or ‘the beautiful one’. Yeah baby.

My Saraswati story…
Years ago in Santa Fe, my friend Navjit and I went to a gathering for Guru Karunamayi. New Mexico is to gurus what New York is to rock stars – they all pass through eventually. So catching a Hindi lecture on a Friday night and then heading to the club was par for the course.

So there we were in our leather pants and Timberlands, gold eyeshadow and Betty Paige bangs…in lotus position. Karunamayi spoke of a love that carries all. The God Head Love that bears everything for its creation. “My children, my babies” she said in her high-happy Indian accent, “When you are angered, give your anger to Mama. Mama will carry it for you. When you do not know, give your confusion to Mama. Mama will carry it for you.”

When it came time to be blessed – the touch of her hand to my forehead – I went flush…turned to mush. It was confusing. I’m not wired for guru devotion or public displays of emotion. But I felt a sense of love emanating from Karunamayi that was expansive and warm. I felt forgiven, cradled, curious. When she touched me, tears fell from my eyes as if there was tap at the crown of my head that she gently twisted.

I left with one of her devotional chanting tapes – $8 bucks was the least I could do for having my head spun ’round. One chant burned itself into my memory and for years, even tho’ I never knew what it meant, I instinctively hummed it to myself. The chant would come into my mind before a speaking gig, or a big meeting; while on the acupuncture table or when I was sick. When my son was being born (at home) my mother accidentally flipped the stereo from “CD” to tape cassette (which hadn’t been played in years,) and there it was, the scratchy Karunamayi chant looping ’round for ten hours while I laboured:

Om Aim Srim Hrim Saraswati Devyai Namaha

I finally decided to look into the origins of the chant – for all I knew it could be a blessing for the fertility of camels. As it turns out, it is a devotion to Saraswati. My Sistah of speech. My Mama of the Arts. The Goddess of clear, calm strategy.

Goddesses always show up when you need them to.

Who’s your favourite goddess?

Whether you’re confused or highly particular, curiosity is a form of power. Use it.

What are you attracted to? Make a list.
Here’s mine. I’m attracted to, intrigued by, enamored with…

1. Pure rose oil, that’s so pure it’s peppery.
2. Kids.
3. People who are comfortable in silence.
4. Convents.
5. Old Egypt.
6. Word economy – saying a lot with a little.
7. Inquisitiveness!!!
8. People who are confrontational.
9. Old African men who smile with their eyes.
10. Scars.
11. Innovation.
12. Alleys.
13. Musicians who have never worked a day in their life.
14. Wealthy, self-made entrepreneurs who aren’t excessive.
15. Philanthropists.
16. The seering brilliance and heart of the TED talks.
17. Filthy at the end of the day construction workers.
18. Rothko paintings.
19. Elvis in 1969.
20. The greeny turquoise with brown flecks.
21. Cosmology.
22. Nests.
24. Gold. Can’t get too much gold.
25. Great teeth.
26. Text art.

What’s on your magnetism list? Now ask yourself what’s so interesting, or soothing, or sexy about the things that you gravitate towards. Go with the first thing that enters your mind, no matter how silly or grandiose it may seem.

I can see a pattern in my attractions: mystery, hard work, glamor, sacred devotion, currency, artistry. Sounds like the essential ingredients to the masterpiece I want to create, or my everyday my ideal life.

Being aware of not only what we are attracted to, but why we’re attracted to it, gives us access to the most tender and creative places within ourselves. If you put your finger on the magnetism, you can attract more of what you want into your life.

Dear Danielle at 20:
1.    Algebra really is useless.
2.    Credit cards are mostly evil.
3.    Talk is cheap.
4.    If he doesn’t stay until morning, he’s probably married or deeply insecure.
5.    There is no soul mate. I know, this is particularly hard news to take because you are longing for The One 24-7. But, guess what, The One is The One because you say he/she is. And that’s way more liberating and empowering than anything preordained or supposedly destined.
6.    And while we’re dissing cosmic romanticism – there’s no such thing as destiny. Life really is what you make it.
7.    Tragedy happens. Yes, everything happens for a reason, but life can be cruel and wrenching and while it all comes out in the cosmic wash, some souls collide and mistakes do happen.
8.    Louise Hay is a magnificent woman, but there is more to the machinations of life, illness, and cosmology than the simple explanations offered by You Can Heal Your Life. Cancer is not necessarily a result of repressed guilt, and you may not necessarily choose to heal your life this time around – that’s okay. Illness doesn’t make you a New Age Loser.
9.    Diplomacy is overrated.
10.    If your boss tries to french kiss you, it’s out of bounds.
11.    Only lend books if you don’t want them back.
12.    Go to more concerts.
13.    If you don’t kiss girls in your twenties, you’ll probably never get around to trying it out. You should try it out.
14.    You’re right – kindness is one of the most powerful natural resources there is…infinitely renewable.
15.    Your feelings are exceedingly more useful than your ability to rationalize your fears or other people’s poor behaviour.
16.    Your heart….your heart….your heart is where it’s at.
17.    When you turn 40, you shall be rocking like never before, grateful for absolutely everything, and you will finally, finally feel like earth is home….for the most part.

He looks calm yet at the same time feisty – as if he’s ready for anything – and has a great sense of humour. He’s not a man who stands on formality either. “Call me Jimmy,” he said as soon as I was introduced to him. 

We talked for a few moments before he began a presentation on Inner Mind Development. That sense of humour was evident the minute he began. “People ask me if I am a psychic,” he laughed. “I say, no, I’m a psycho.” When they ask if he is a mystic, he replies jokingly that he is a “mistake.”

Indeed he is a man who is hard to slot. His books cover topics ranging from Philippine faith healing to karma and reincarnation to intuition and, of course, inner mind development.

He believes the mind has limitless potential, but most of us limit ourselves through our own negative thinking. “Change the mindset – and all things change,” he said. We typically use only 10 per cent of brain capacity, he said. If we understand the brain better, we can use it more powerfully. 

It is clear that he’s a man driven by curiosity about things that aren’t easily explained. He follows a reasoned, scientific approach in his inquiries – and he likes to personally test all assertions about unexplained phenomena. To satisfy his curiosity, he has tried walking on fire and being hacked by a sword! He survived both and now believes he has found the explanation: anything is possible in an altered state of consciousness.

“Everything begins with the mind,” Jimmy said. The frequency of our brain waves can alter our physical reality. “If you slow down the brain waves – without falling asleep – you can do things you cannot normally do.” 

Participants in seminars at the Inner Mind Development Institute learn about right brain and left brain activities; and about alpha, beta, theta, and delta brainwaves. In the basic seminar they learn to effectively use both sides of the brain.

In the more advanced seminars, they learn how to consciously move between different states of consciousness.

 Normally, we are in the beta state, open to our five physical senses. Through meditation, we enter the alpha state, where we are not limited by time and space. If we can slow down the brainwaves even more, we enter the theta stage, where we can control pain, bleeding, burning etc. This is the state in which people undergo bloodless surgery or walk on fire. The deepest state of all is the delta stage, in which we are normally either asleep or unconscious. However, if we can stay awake in this state, we can levitate, or bend objects through mind power, according to Jimmy.

For more information, visit:
http://www.jaimelicauco.com/index.php

Subhadradi too was one of Mamai’s closest friends but in a very different way. She had been Mamai’s maid for as long as I can remember. They shared an unspoken understanding that develops between an employee and her employer after many years of faithful service. I also suspect old age, widowhood and the wounds of life had brought them even closer.

I can’t remember Subhadradi actually ever working at our place. Yes, she would at times make Mamai’s bed, prepare a paan and even occasionally fold her clothes but she never scrubbed, cleaned or cooked like the other maids in the house. However, what she did most of the time was blabber this preposterous story of being an aristocratic lady who had never even poured herself a glass of water till the 1947 Partition reduced her to destitution.

Of course, even at a very young age I had heard horror tales of the Partition and the subsequent bloody mayhem on both sides of the border, including those involving the extended family. However, never had I or anyone else around heard a story of such deprivation and it sounded extremely implausible.

Moreover, I had at times seen Subhadradi do dishes at a neighbor’s and my young mind couldn’t envisage that frail woman in the tattered sari on her haunches scrubbing hard at another family’s dirty dishes as an elegant wealthy lady. People used to incessantly taunt her and call her names. In fact, I had even caught Ma in a foul mood snap at Subhadradi and call her a liar.

One afternoon, a month or so after my sixth birthday, I returned from school to find Ma decked in fancy silk and the aroma of the special three layered pudding – the signs of a guest for lunch. I was told that Princess was coming for lunch. As I could make out from Mamai and Ma’s conversation, this was extremely uncharacteristic of Princess – she never paid anyone a visit before late afternoon. To add to Mamai’s tensions, a visibly uncomfortable Subhadradi declared she was going home early on grounds of feeling unwell. Ma rightly pointed out that she’d feel even worse in her dingy shanty home and it would be better if she slept it off at our house.

I was still working at the pudding, when Mamai called for Subhadradi. It had so happened that Mamai had been raving about Subhadradi’s special paan to Princess for a while. Surprisingly, in all the years that Subhadradi worked for Mamai, Princess had never met her. But then Princess always visited in the late afternoon long after Subhadradi had left. Subhadradi came in with her head uncharacteristically buried in her chest. Suddenly, Princess stood up, walked to Subhadradi and embraced her in the regal way that society ladies did at that time and they exchanged pleasantries. The day then continued as usual; Subhadradi returned with the neatly folded paans. No questions were asked, no explanations given. Ever since then, no one in the household ever heard Subhadradi’s blabber again.

Even a six year old had understood that Princess, with dignity and grace had just corroborated Subhadradi’s story.

I learnt two significant lessons of life that afternoon. Firstly, to lend a patient ear to and trust even the most outlandish stories as a person already savaged by the cruelties of life might just need that to carry on. Secondly, to respect a person’s dignity by refraining from all embarrassing questions. Every day when I read about or watch educated men and women air their dirty linen in public, I remember that afternoon spent in the company of three women of another time and the power of words that remained unspoken.

As soon as the sage came near the palace he said, “Wow, what a beautiful masterpiece. I feel like looking at the architecture all day.” The emperor later took him to the dining hall. The sage tasted the varieties of sweets, exotic cooked meat, and fruits and said “Yummy, can I have some more….”

Later the emperor took the sage to view dancing girls. The sage could not take his eyes off the girls. He adored their beauty and tapped his feet.

The emperor had been observing the sage all along. He was puzzled about the sage’s interest in these base worldly pursuits. So he confronted the sage, “You call yourself a sage. And you were popular for your renounced life and meaningful messages. But look how you are imbibing these pleasures…”

The sage looked at the emperor for some time and said, “Can you take me to the jungle where I came from?” The leader agreed and they set off on the journey. Soon they reached the border between the city and the jungle. The sage then tells the emperor, “Now, come with me into the jungle and let’s start living in the woods.”

The emperor begins to panic. He responds, “I cannot leave my palace, post, power, and luxury.”

The sage smiles and said, “That is the difference between you and me. I can renounce the worldly life anytime and return to a peaceful and happy living. But you cannot give up your status, glamour, and vices and live in the jungle.”

The emperor got the message. He touched the feet of the sage and the wise one walked into the woods in peace.

This story was selected and submitted by Anitha Jebaraj.

The meeting lasted perhaps 20 minutes — I can’t be sure because I lost track of time as soon as I met His Holiness. I can’t remember very much of what he said, or what I said either for that matter.

Nevertheless, it was a turning point in my life and in my spiritual growth.

At the time, he was teaching monks in all-day sessions and had agreed to meet us during the lunch break. I wondered with a twinge of guilt if I were keeping the Dalai Lama from his lunch. I figured he knew better than me if he could spare the time, but I was certainly grateful for his kindness and generosity of spirit.

My cousin and I were waiting for him when he came back from the morning session. As we greeted him, he put his arms around us and propelled us into the hall where we were to chat. I was struck by his high level of energy and his rather infectious good humour.

Everything I had read and imagined about him was true. He looks at you and you feel yourself becoming calm and peaceful. He exudes compassion. When he talks to you, all of his attention is focused on you.

What I hadn’t quite expected was the strength mixed with gentleness and the compassion that went hand-in-hand with the cheerful smile and the deep laugh. I cried a little as I spoke to him of my troubles. He held my hands and comforted me not with platitudes but with spiritual truths. I was strangely at peace – even when I cried.

There was an indescribable quality to the meeting. When I came out of the meeting I felt as if I were walking a few inches above the ground. For several months after that, every time I struggled with a difficult spiritual issue, I would have a conversation with the Dalai Lama – in my head. And, always, it pointed me in the direction I needed to go.

Although I have only met him once more after that occasion, I have accepted him as one of my gurus in my heart.

In the two meetings, he talked a bit about dharma (in its connotation of a commitment to spiritual growth) and about the spiritual principle of non-attachment. He talked not in a didactic way at all, but casually as if he were just chatting with a friend. He is, of course, a living example of these spiritual principles.
A link to the official website of the Dalai Lama:http://www.dalailama.com/

Editor’s Note: The photo above shows His Holiness The Dalai Lama with Pamposh Dhar

Starting from the crowded marina and Eliot’s Beach to the less crowded and secluded ones that dot the East Coast Road (or ECR as it is called), I have always found my visits to be a learning and inspiring experience.

Every one of my visits thus far, has revealed new concepts in management and new ways of looking at life.

I am always amazed by the waves continuously beating the land and threatening to envelop it – with occasional success in the form of a tsunami. The unswerving perseverance of the waves is one admirable quality that any manager would wish to have along the obstacle path we call marketing in the world of business.

Sometimes one gets to see catamarans and the fishing trawlers venturing in or out of the sea. The persistence of the men who can outmaneuver the mighty power of the waves and still keep moving forward is another example in perseverance worthy of emulation.

In the crowded sections, one can often see the excited faces of children holding their parents’ hands while standing at the water’s edge waiting for the angry waves to splash and scatter their foamy surf. The trust of the onlooking child who knows that the firm grip of a parent’s hand will keep him securely anchored to the shore during this awesome experience, reminds me of the relationship that should exist between a subordinate and a boss.

And looking at the people taking their walk, oblivious to what is happening around them illustrates that we must be mindful at all times that “our health is our wealth” regardless of what is being demanded of us by others.

Last but not least – the joy of sitting silently at the water’s edge – simply looking at the magnificent ocean with its roaring waves puts us into an introspective mode. A mood that is necessary for objective self-evaluation and re-prioritizing our personal and professional goals.

With my frequent trips to the beach, and the inspiration gleaned, my wife may have justification to begin commenting on my new role as a thinker and philosopher. Move over Socrates here I come!

Allowing Evolution : Esther Speaks

You will, eventually, in your human experiences, witness the fall of your intellect.

One who has witnessed the Source within becomes open to shifting/ascending… thus choosing to live in a paradigm of freedom, abundance and endless wonderment.

This however will not be achieved in one go. The journey involves many transitions, and each transition can be considered as an individual paradigm which forms part of our Final Destination (Ascended Reality).

How will you know whether you are moving forward? Well, it is not that difficult – sudden creative flow, universal signs, synchronicity, realisation of abundance, deeper connection with the universe, fulfilment followed by futility, a sense of multiple personalities and willingness to rest long hours – is the closest analytical comparison to graduating from one paradigm and stepping onto the other.

Eventually, the frequency of the Shift will increase and this will allow you to anchor for longer hours/days/ weeks in your final destination (the paradigm of your Ascended Reality).

Transitions are very necessary, though they may seem exhausting. They allow you understand the language of the soul and your coherence with universal symphony. Each transition will bring about immense transformation in the nature of your personal reality and further refine your connection with the Source. Your soul will learn to speak fluently.

This is where Alchemy transpires. Your presence begins to attract like hearted souls. Your presence begins to transform and transmute existential pain, dilemma and confusion into more creative empowering forms of energy.

Always remember, your identity too is existential. Your light, your connection with the Source, your merit is regardless of what seems to define you as a person or a personality. So even if you feel overpowered by past mistakes, dilemma or confusion yourself – know that immense transformation is in progress. Rest well. Keep your self well hydrated (drink pure water), grab hold of the one closest to your heart (be it your soulmate, master or a friend). Usually this happens when you are stepping onto another rung of the ascension ladder.

So what is the new paradigm? What is the new framework for intelligence?

The basic foundation of this framework, is allowance. Allow your thoughts to purify, your inner conflicts to resolve themselves. You will soon anchor out of your dilemmas and into a paradigm of endless empowerment.

You will then engineer intelligence. You will then code your own genome!

My mother is loving and kind, yet strong and independent. Tell her a sad story and her heart melts within seconds, but cross her and she will never back down! Her passion, I think, is feeding people.

When I was growing up, she was always there for me, being a full-time mother, wife and homemaker. My earliest childhood memory is of falling off a tonga – a horse-drawn carriage – with my mother. This happened in Kashmir when I was about 2 years old. It is the only memory of being a two year old child. I guess I remember it because it was scary or at least a huge shock to the system. How well do I recall being held in my mother’s lap with her arms tightly wrapped around me while slipping off the tonga. What is most significant to me perhaps is the memory of feeling safe and protected during the ordeal.

From later years, I remember my mother, a staunch follower of Mahatma Gandhi, telling me to turn the other cheek whenever my male cousins hit me. Fortunately for me, my father had a more practical approach to life. He taught me to fight back by not inflicting too much damage on the other person – just enough to discourage them from picking on me.

Though I rejected that particular lesson, I imbibed other aspects of my mother’s Gandhian views. She taught me to speak the truth without fear or reservation. So much so that my father claims that I am not just truthful but often “brutally frank.” Well, I am trying to temper the “brutality” without losing the frankness.

I learnt from Mum and dad to treat all people with respect and courtesy regardless of race, religion, gender or age.

I remember an elderly gentleman moving into our home in Delhi for the entire winter one year. Mum introduced him to me as her “godfather.” He lived in Norway with her older sister’s family, but found the winter there to be too harsh. So he had come to spend the season with us. I loved this man, who told me a story from the Mahabharatha every night. Before he left, he had told me the entire tale, with all its twists and turns, and its myriad sub-plots. What a wonderful experience.

It was only much later I learnt that he had been my grandfather’s housekeeper. He had moved to my aunt’s household when she got married to help her run her new home, first in India, then Indonesia, and finally Norway.

Another year, Mum’s elderly aunt came down to escape the cold winter in Kashmir. She too, told me stories, half in Hindi and half in Kashmiri, which I didn’t know too well. Both my parents respected her deeply as the oldest member of the family taught me to do the same.

Our home was an open house to any relative, friend, or friend of a friend who was passing through Delhi. Female guests simply moved into the room I shared with my older sister. Male visitors slept on a thakhat in the living room. People who dropped in to say hello were invariably persuaded to stay on for the next meal.

I didn’t find any of this odd. I thought this was how all families operated and I enjoyed all the comings and goings. The house was open to all my friends too, of course.

Mum has always been a wonderful hostess. Equally, she is a gracious guest. Except for the closest of friends, she would not go to anyone’s home “empty-handed,” as she put it. She kept a stash of gifts to be dipped into as and when required. If she didn’t have an appropriate gift to present, she would take flowers or fruit. Never under any circumstances would she go without a gift on her first visit to someone’s home.

She was also careful to never allow her host to feel uncomfortable on our account. When I was in my teens, we had close family friends who lived nearby. Since the relationship was so informal, we would often drop in on each other at short notice. One time, when we had gone over, the lady of the house apologized because she had cooked only a simple vegetarian meal that day.

My Mum, with her most innocent look, asked, “What day of the week is it?” When our hostess told her, Mum still maintaining her innocent look replied, “Oh we never eat meat on Tuesdays.” (or Thursdays, or whatever day it happened to be). This happened at least 3 times before our friend finally caught on!

In our own home, my Mum resolutely refused to teach me to cook or do household chores. I was possibly the only Indian girl of my age back then who couldn’t make tea. Girls were generally groomed to be good wives and daughters-in-law in India’s joint family system. My Mum assumed, like others, that I would eventually marry and “settle down.” But, in the meantime, she wanted me to have fun. She insisted that I should enjoy myself because there was no rush to get involved in cooking and housework!

Both my parents considered education to be of great value, both in itself (as knowledge) and in its ability to make one financially independent. Mum wanted her daughters to be well educated and to work before marriage, if not afterwards. I remember her talking about this even when I was really young, perhaps 10 or 12 years old. She felt it was important for a woman to know she was capable of looking after herself even if she was not going to work after marriage. That way, “if anything went wrong,” she would know she could be financially independent.

As things turned out, I worked, got married, continued to work, and never really “settled down,” while happily moving around Asia with my husband.

My mother, now 83, continues to be a loving presence in my life. She doesn’t cook in her own home any more, but when she visits my husband and me, she makes a special effort to make us a favourite dish once in a while. It is hard for her to stand for long, so we put a chair for her in the kitchen. Our cook/housekeeper helps her by cleaning and chopping the ingredients but Mum directs the process. (Sometimes my parents cook together, but that deserves a post of its own).

Even though she lives in India and I am in the Philippines, we often spend quality time chatting on the phone. She never fails to ask me to give her love to my husband – “and even more to you,” she invariably adds. Then she chuckles and adds: “But don’t tell him I said that.”
Happy Mother’s Day Mum!

I asked her what really transpired at her final meeting with the CEO and other officials. She said, “They tell me that as an auditor I had the benefit of hindsight and could therefore pronounce my verdict on what should have been done. But they, the executives, had to take quick decisions with limited time, insufficient information and other constraining factors.”

This brings me to an important point, the working of the mind after the event. Wisdom in hindsight is well known.

What is less well known is shown by an experiment conducted by psychologists that was conducted as follows: The subjects were divided into two groups. One group was given (a) a precise description of an event that did happen (example the collapse of a company) and (b) a series of relevant pieces of information available before the event. The other group was given the same data but was given a totally opposite end (say the huge profits of the company).

Both the groups were told that they were given the facts of an actual situation.

Both groups then confidently asserted that given the information presented to them, they could have predicted the result! Remember the two groups were given the same facts but opposite outcomes !

Psychologists found that there was no difference at all in the confidence levels of the two groups.
Once we are told the outcome it has the power to produce hindsight wisdom. You can read more details about this experiment in the book ‘Inevitable Illusions’ by Massimo Palmarini.

The implications of this tendency are serious. Careers can be destroyed by blaming someone for a wrong decision that appears wrong in hindsight but could not have been seen as wrong by the executive when he made the decision. Finding scapegoats relies on this tendency to find wisdom in hindsight.

What is unfortunate is that the auditor or commission of enquiry will be able to convince the scapegoat that he seriously erred and could have ‘easily’ anticipated the disastrous consequences of his decisions and actions.

This sad tendency is found among people of every area of human activity – science, management, politics, religion, history and so on.

In my workshops on Decision Making, I bring out the idea that the wisdom or judgement of a decision maker cannot be judged purely by the outcome of a course of action. It is possible that a good outcome may be the result of plain good luck and a bad outcome may be the result of plain bad luck, unforeseen changes in the environment etc.

What is critical is to examine the decision making process rather than the outcome.

I also suggest that a good decision or course of action may have to be audited with seriousness too.

Let me suggest a real life instance. The Indian Railways have been cited as a great turnaround story. Management gurus have written about this ‘phenomenon.’ The media has whispered that one factor significantly contributing to rising profits is as follows: The railways have been in the past illegally permitting overloading of wagons. The railway officials have been overlooking this and may be even been illegally rewarded for it even as the railways did not earn any revenue on the illegal business. Along comes a new dispensation that reasons as follows – why not permit the overloading of wagons and earn revenues? As for the danger of accidents due to weakening of tracks on account of overloading, we can assume that since such accidents have not happened in the past they will not happen in future!

Now let me ask you, what if accidents take place for precisely this reason of weakened tracks due to overloading? Right now we are all congratulating the Railways for the ‘phenomenal’ success. But what if the scenario I have painted comes true ?

I can predict the following: A commission of enquiry will either fix the blame on some unfortunate scapegoat or some other reason will be found for the accidents.

If we are to heed my suggestion that ‘good’ outcomes and decisions ought to be seriously audited seriously as well, the Railways may have to change tactics on this front. But I am sure nothing of that sort will happen. Why am I confident? Benefit of hindsight, after several such past experiences .

Now for a funny phenomenon I have witnessed. Once the results of a selection procedure are announced, I try to ask a successful candidate what accounted for his success against keen competition. In most cases I hear the candidate waxing eloquent on how he gave a ‘brilliant’ answer to a question in the final interview.
I suspect that had I asked my question before the results were announced he would not have been even able to recollect that question for which he had given the ‘brilliant’ answer.

First Important Lesson – Cleaning Lady

During my second month of college, our professor gave us a pop quiz. I was a conscientious student and had breezed through the questions until I read
the last one: ‘What is the first name of the woman who cleans the school?’
Surely this was some kind of joke. I had seen the cleaning woman several times. She was tall, dark-haired and in her 50′s, but how would I know her name?
I handed in my paper, leaving the last question blank. Just before class ended, one student asked if the last question would count toward our quiz grade.
‘Absolutely,’ said the professor. ‘In your careers, you will meet many people. All are significant. They deserve your attention and care, even if all you do is smile and say ‘hello.’
I’ve never forgotten that lesson. I also learned her name was Dorothy.

Second Important Lesson – Pickup In The Rain

One night, at 11:30 pm, an older African American woman was standing on the side of an Alabama highway trying to endure a lashing rainstorm. Her car had broken down and she desperately needed a ride.
Soaking wet, she decided to flag down the next car. A young white man stopped to help her, generally unheard of in those conflict-filled ’60s. The man took her to safety, helped her get assistance and put her into a taxicab.
She seemed to be in a big hurry, but wrote down his address and thanked him. Seven days went by and a knock came on the man’s door. To his surprise, a giant console color TV was delivered to his home. A special note was attached.
It read: “Thank you so much for assisting me on the highway the other night. The rain drenched not only my clothes, but also my spirits. Then you came along. Because of you, I was able to make it to my dying husband’s bedside just before he passed away. God bless you for helping me and unselfishly serving others.”
Sincerely, Mrs. Nat King Cole.

Third Important Lesson – Always Remember Those Who Serve

In the days when an ice cream sundae cost much less, a 10-year-old boy entered a hotel coffee shop and sat at a table. A waitress put a glass of water in front of him.
“How much is an ice cream sundae?” he asked.
“Fifty cents,” replied the waitress.
The little boy pulled is hand out of his pocket and studied the coins in it.
“Well, how much is a plain dish of ice cream?” he inquired.
By now more people were waiting for a table and the waitress was growing impatient.
“Thirty-five cents,” she brusquely replied.
The little boy again counted his coins.
“I’ll have the plain ice cream,” he said.
The waitress brought the ice cream, put the bill on the table and walked away. The boy finished the ice cream, paid the cashier and left. When the waitress came back, she began to cry as she wiped down the table. There, placed neatly beside the empty dish, were two nickels and five pennies.
You see, he couldn’t have the sundae, because he had to have enough left to leave her a tip.

Fourth Important Lesson – The Obstacle In Our Path

In ancient times, a king had a boulder placed on a roadway. Then he hid himself and watched to see if anyone would remove the huge rock. Some of the king’s wealthiest merchants and courtiers came by and simply walked around it. Many loudly blamed the King for not keeping the roads clear, but none did anything about getting the stone out of the way.
Then a peasant came along carrying a load of vegetables. Upon approaching the boulder, the peasant laid down his burden and tried to move the stone to the side of the road. After much pushing and straining, he finally succeeded.
After the peasant picked up his load of vegetables, he noticed a purse lying in the road where the boulder had been. The purse contained many gold coins and a note from the King indicating that the gold was for the person who removed the boulder from the roadway.
The peasant learned what few people in the world truly understand: Within every obstacle lies a golden opportunity to improve our condition.

Fifth Important Lesson – Giving When It Counts

Many years ago, when I worked as a volunteer at a hospital, I got to know a little girl named Liz who was suffering from a rare & serious disease. Her only chance of recovery appeared to be a blood transfusion from her 5-year old brother, who had miraculously survived the same disease and had developed the antibodies needed to combat the illness.
The doctor explained the situation to her little brother, and asked the little boy if he would be willing to give his blood to his sister. I saw him hesitate for only a moment before taking a deep breath and saying, “Yes I’ll do it if it will save her.”
As the transfusion progressed, he lay in bed next to his sister and smiled, as we all did, seeing the color returning to her cheek. Then his face grew pale and his smile faded. He looked up at the doctor and asked with a trembling voice, “Will I start to die right away?”
Being young, the little boy had misunderstood the doctor; he thought he was going to have to give his sister all of his blood in order to save her but he had chosen to save her anyway.

Gratitude to Geir Ove Knutsen for sharing these five stories with me.

Let us all take these beautiful lessons to heart today…
1) In our life we will meet many people. All are significant. They all deserve our attention and care, even if all you do is smile and say “hello.”
2) Never pass an opportunity to serve others. Our smallest gestures showing care can affect their life profoundly.
3) Always remember those who serve you, even in the smallest way. Never take them for granted even if they take you for granted!
4) Within every obstacle lies a golden opportunity to improve our condition.
5) Give when it counts. Give without counting. Give!

These universal stories have been selected by Nithya Shanti.

Now I am a self-proclaimed material woman. I can slip into the role of a maid as casually as I can into the role of an urban woman. Therefore when I read that Naomi Campbell is all set to celebrate her 36th birthday (awww…. she doesn’t look 36) by throwing a 3-day, million dollar bash in Dubai, I felt my interest perking up. But as I read more I was disgusted to learn that she plans to hire all 18 floors of the seven star BURJ AL ARAB hotel. Do people actually have that kind of money?

Ok, I can understand an entire floor, but 18 floors for a birthday bash in a hotel where a simple lunch costs about 30 grand – what a waste of money and to think it’s being hosted by her multi-millionaire Dubai boyfriend.

As I was carrying on about that colossal waste of money for a birthday bash, my husband who was on his way out tapped me on my shoulder, ruffled my hair and said, “Darling that’s exactly what you did for your birthday last year. We took a bunch of friends out for dinner at a five star hotel and spent a disgusting amount.”

He smiled, “The difference is you did it according to your pocket and she is doing according to hers. Our driver who dropped us at that hotel must have thought it a terrible waste of money for a birthday bash.”

My better half then walked out in his usual serene manner. I just sat there a little wiser, thinking…. hmmmmmm.

Now you know why he is my better half.

Another day – another incident.
We were at a traffic signal when a vendor knocked on our window selling cleaning cloths for cars. I had just gotten around to bargaining for a lower price when my husband took out 20 rupees and bought the two cleaning cloths for the asking price. I was really mad at him because they were clearly overpriced. As we passed the traffic signal, he apologized to me and offered to take me for coffee.

As he sipped his coffee he patiently explained, “How much you would have saved by bargaining with him – 5 rupees? Now let’s look at bigger picture. I know he was overcharging us but did you notice that at that traffic signal he was the only one selling and not begging? He could have easily knocked on our window and begged for alms but he didn’t.”

My better half continued to explain, “He is self employed and by paying him that extra 5 rupees, I tried to encourage him to keep on working and not resort to begging.”

I retorted, “But if I keep on encouraging people by paying them what they ask for, it will have financial implications on us right?”

He agreed with me but added, “But then let’s use our bargaining power and save money where we should. It is evening and as he said he had not even one item since morning so by bargaining for five dollars you were taking away his profit for the entire day.”

With his characteristic patient voice he continued, “It’s just 5 Rupees. You will throw that coin in some corner of your purse and forget about it, but think about the implications it will have for him.”

It set me thinking again. Hmmmm…. I was about to bargain away his profit for the entire day, which may or may not be true, but it sure made me think a little deeper about my over-zealous foray into frugality.

He ended the conversation by telling me, “I am not asking you to change your attitude, just to amend it bit. Don’t bargain for 10 or 20 or 50 bucks. People who earn that much profit operate at a small level and they need encouragement. How about you use your verbal skills for saving us hundreds or thousands of rupees ?”

Now here I am a wiser woman for having had that experience with him.

So again you know why he is my better 1/2.

One among us was the naughtiest and always full of pranks and had a casual approach to studies and now it turned out that he was a senior coast guard official in the US. The amount of studies he had to do later eventually made up for his casualness in early stages of life. After several rounds of exchanging views with my classmates, observing the twists and turns in life, the following realities stood out.

1. Among the key attributes of successful people, the most important skill is ‘people skill’ or human interaction. No matter what profession one is in or how well one did in studies the most important skill is to deal or relate with people. Having dealt with several cultures and societies I find that culture is like a wrapper. Inside all human beings are the same, and the desire to be appreciated and respected is paramount. So friends no matter where you live please be careful when dealing with people – respect their opinions and value systems. Easily said but worth all the effort in weighed gold!

2. Our background and circumstances may have influenced who we are, but the surprising part is that we ultimately are responsible for who we become. No matter what situation we were in or what consequences we faced ultimately those being honest to themselves were paid the biggest dividends and got much further in life.

3. Which brings me to the next point we all agreed upon: There is no right way of do a wrong thing. Many of us in our journey of life learned that some things (wrong things) do give pleasure in the short run but real happiness comes by doing the right things. A small mistake done in an instant can give you heartaches for life.

4. Money is important and necessary but don’t use it as a yardstick to measure happiness. It’s not that those with a bank balance in six zeros and above are happy. In fact those who can differentiate between their needs and wants are happy. Better still one should learn the fine art of managing the needs and wants, if this secret is shared with all members of family then life becomes blissful.

5. Finally we all agreed that there was no substitute for hard work and only insurance in adversity was the ability to bounce back, keep investing in your self by education or un-learning outdated skills and learning new skills.

Looking back and reflecting on our collective learning has been very insightful. Of course some of your experiences may be in sync with those above. Would be delighted to learn and hear of other noteworthy lessons of life since we all remain lifelong students in the university of life.

Artwork by Favio Castan provided by the author

During every mock interview I do with a student or graduate I ask the question, “Who is your role model and why?” At least 95% of the respondents say “My mother.” It is like a contest, knowing the student if I think they will or won’t choose their mom, granted my odds are pretty good if I go with “mom”. The reasons vary but usually talk about always being there, working hard, giving up things for the sake of the family and being strong.

Now the career counselor in me wants my business students to say “Donald Trump”, my technology students to say “Bill Gates”, medical students to say “Dr. Vivian Thomas”, graphic design students to say “Andy Warhol”, etc, etc…following it up with some profound statement about how this person has touched their lives and changed the world. This is the ideal in the career coaching world demonstrating industry knowledge, passion and respect for the people who set the foundation in their particular field.

Real life doesn’t subscribe to career coaching. Again at least 95% of students and graduates will say their mom is their role model almost instantly. I find that it is impossible for me to tell a student/grad that their mom or dad shouldn’t be their role model as it is a beautiful thing to think of your parent that way and even though it may not be the best suited answer for an interview, it is the answer they own and comes from their heart so I let it stand without further coaching. Your role model shouldn’t be “coached”; there is simply something innately wrong with that very idea.

So this brings me to my little role models and a paper my daughter wrote in fourth grade. Now mind you, this is exactly how it was written; I did not spell or grammar check it. From the mouth of babes:

My Superhero!

My superhero is my mom. I chose my mom cause she has always been there for me. She helps me so much!

My mom is my superhero cause she would die to save me! No matter what would happen. She will risk her life to save me! People will say she isn’t a “superhero”, but she is to me!

My mom looks like me. She has blonde hair. light skin and blue eyes. Her height is 5’6″ or something. (It is really 5’9″) My moms name is Amy. She is kind, funny and outgoing. Amy or my mom’s favorite color is ruby red. Amy’s favorite food is sucey (sushi misspelled). She loves her some good sucey.

One think my mom has done to be my super hero is for saving my life. She saved my life by catching me before I fell off a big rocket play place. My mom climbed up there to catch me before I fell off!

As you can see my mom is a superhero in many ways. That is why she is my superhero and I love her for that!

So I wonder if my Winifred is asked during an interview years from now who her role model is and why, what she will say? Will Mom or the Director of Career Services play a bigger influence in her answer? I hope Mom wins (please do not tell my boss).

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Amy is the Director of Career Services at Herzing College Online and teaches career development courses for the online campus. Email her at achastek@onl.herzing.edu or visit http://www.herzingonline.edu.