The Charisma of Being

At any moment, we have the choice of being or thinking, taking life in or trying to understand it. We instinctively strive to strike a balance between the two, but social pressures, overachievement, attachment, and deep-seeded insecurities often pin us to the thinking side of things. We overthink, therefore, we cannot be. When we think, we don’t act. We don’t show our colours. We are absent because we are in our minds, interpreting, projecting, estimating. Our awareness retreats, and with it our animation and idiosyncrasies. When we think, our personalities are closer to that of a computer than a sentient life-form. A mostly-thinker, no matter how academically brilliant, often has little charisma, a product of their reserved, withdrawn personality. They have little presence, and offer few draws for others to get to know them.

Of course, thinking is essential to one’s survival and understanding of the world. It’s the first thing we learn, but I’d like to argue it’s a predominant thing we are taught throughout our lives in this so-called modern society. An intellectual world is not a lived world, but a projected one. We think, therefore we are, but what we are is not who we are.

Thinking needs the right input for a truthful output, and that input comes through being – experiencing without labeling, engaging without expecting, listening without projecting. In short, not pre-thinking. When raw materials of life enter us as they are, we feel stimulated by their newness, and consequently, our curiosity. We process them through our unique, natural lens. We interpret the universe as it expresses itself through us, not the way we are expected to see it. And because we add a fresh perspective to our society, we stand out, in the most natural, un-egotistical way possible. The way everyone, in their unique way, has a potential of standing out. This is the charisma that inspires motivation, not envy, attraction, not attachment. It is also the essential ingredient to any truthful, selfless relationship.

Time Heals (and Erodes)

Most of us are familiar with the axiom time heals – but I’d like to add that time erodes as well. Like most things in this universe, there are 2 poles to time, a constructive one and a deconstructive opposite. Passage of time gives us the capacity to heal our wounds, physical and psychological. Our body stitches itself according to its DNA instructions, while our mind creates new neural connections by processing and learning from challenges that initially bruised it.

But what of time erosion? Every so often, as our lives flow, we get a certain primal sensation to pay attention. A call to life-action, so to speak: intuitive feelings, wholesome desires, sudden clarities – things that freely upwell from within. During these brief moments, we feel we are one with the universe. We truly understand without needing to put thoughts into words. These transformative opportunities tend to be loud at first, but their call quickly silences if they are not acted upon. Their silence keeps us static and routine-driven, limiting the scope of our life and its possibilities. And when attachment to routine or familiar defines our normal, we stop exploring and start obsessing, walking the same exact steps day in and day out.

If you feel compelled to do something, do it now. Don’t put it off until some imaginary future date or circumstance. Future does not exist, no matter how certain it may seem in our minds. The more we put things off, the more time we waste – the only resource in this universe that is truly non-renewable. Respecting yourself (and your potential) starts with respecting your time.

Superlatives: Inferior Identities

My best friend, my finest work, my greatest belief etc. – grandiose, self-identifying statements with self-pooring effects. When we label something as being of the highest order, we place a limit on our potential, others, and the world, as we perceive them. When we tell ourselves such narratives, we interrupt the ever-unfolding journey of life and feel like we’ve reached a destination. Comfort and security of accomplishment set in, and the spark of life, the curiosity and hunger for the unknown, for exploration and discovery, wanes. In short, we see less and correspondingly get less.

When we use superlatives to describe our relationships, we create attachments to people, activities, and things – not as they are, but as we perceive them to be. When we attach ourselves, we are less likely to try something new. We depend on, and often demand, a standard as prescribed by our superlative. A best friend should do this and that, and if they don’t, something is wrong. A finest work communicates that I can’t do any better. A greatest belief is one that reduces the beautiful relativity of individuality and the universe down to subjective absolutism.

Make and explore connections within your slice of the universe, but don’t make them your roadblocks. No matter how ecstatic and happiness-inducing an experience is, it is still part of a process of highs and lows. In fact, we must have lows to experience and identify highs, but there is no limit on their height, unless you assign it.