JC’s Ethos

He relished in unabashed authenticity. It’s also how JC loved you – perfectly un-fairytale-like and imperfectly human. It felt real in every sense, with no traces of conditioning, transactionality, or reciprocity for reciprocity’s sake. He gave because he wanted to. Took when he needed to. Reminded you of life’s priorities when you had forgotten them. No sugar-coating or repressing. He was just a cat – as most humans would put it – but to me he was a person with more depth and presence than many humans I’ve known. He let you into his world, with wide eyes and acknowledging meows, chrips, and purrs.

He didn’t care much for politeness and good behaviour. To him, they were inauthentic and wasteful of time and opportunity. I agreed, and thanked his sagely feistiness those few times I mindlessly addressed him as just a cat. He cared for showing you how he felt and what he wanted, with no second-guessing or reservations. JC was an empath, checking in every few minutes by reading your eyes – their lines, tension, shape. He knew the mood you were in, even if you weren’t admitting it to yourself. Stoicism didn’t fool him – he knew me for the emotional person that I am, and that emotionality is also where him and I connected: perfectly excitable when called for, and equally frustrated when our freedom-flapping wings got clipped.

Some people meditate to recenter and regain composure. I do too, except my meditation now includes a mental image of JC, which reminds me of the kind of relationships I wish to forge with others, and myself.

Fear Ebbs Flow

Fear, in any form, chokes life. It dulls our senses of curiosity and exploration, curbing risk-taking while prioritizing the familiar, conservative, safe. It makes us dependent on something (or someone) that’s known, giving us a superficial form of psychological safety.

But life is not meant to be a loop, a routine, a well-treaded path, no matter how scenic or comforting it may be. Phobias and fears of things in life are often the result of our mode of being, shaped by limited experience. How we perceive ourselves relative to other people, our surroundings, to the universe, its meaning. Fear prevents us from stepping outside the marked path to make our own. And the more we conform to a pre-treaded path, the stronger the resistance to veering off it – and living. We become static – an impossibility in life that, by its very nature, is dynamic.

This illusion of safety – that we know things, that things don’t change – hardens us into moulds of our familiar environments. And as any other mould whose shape is predetermined, we live and produce monotony. Our life becomes an assembly line of tasks more than a microcosm of creative opportunities. Fear chokes life, it inhibits our authenticity and suppresses creativity. It ebbs our unscripted self expression, and genuine connection to everything.

To live and experience life to its fullest, you must take a risk and step forward. Like a toddler learning how to walk, every step is both scary and exciting because we can fall but also get farther. Embrace fear of the unknown, for it’s a signal that you are living, that you are getting to know more of the universe, and through it, your deeper self.

Karmic Detanglement

Who we are today is the result of our past actions. As much as we want to change overnight sometimes, we can’t. There are too many strings anchoring us to our personal history. Thoughts we’ve thought and acted upon, routines we’ve developed and cemented through repeated steps, identities we’ve built based on our values and ego.

The past cannot be changed but that should not be the reason for us being stuck in it. We, separate from our past, have the capacity to change, as long as we realize it’s a process. To change is to detangle ourselves from our former actions. That means recognizing and owning what we’ve done, no matter how inconvenient, painful, or guilting it may be. By taking responsibility for our former actions, we weaken their power over us, and make space for new ones – new ways of thinking, seeing, and doing things. The accumulated karma of our past dissolves, and along with it the cause that effected our identity.

With time, we build new values that redefine who we are. We change, as we should, as everything in the universe does. Change is a natural process fundamental to our personal refinement.

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.

Mind-Heart

Our minds are essential to practical life and establishing the familiar, as well as our relationship to it. But beyond practicality, a mind, left unbalanced, can also thwart life because it is uncomfortable with change. New information about the world or self challenges the mind’s subjective reality that it worked so hard to create and understand. It’s a threat to mind’s established identity. In short, the mind wants what is, not what will be. It wants what is familiar, labeled or labelable, not unquantifiable possibilities or change. Some of the most intense suffering we endure in our lives is psychological, stemming from change and our attachments to what was.

Since life is one continuous process of change, and our society puts disproportionate emphasis on our mental abilities, it is crucial that we balance this harder part of ourselves with a softer one. I call it the heart, others call it something else, but they point to the same emotional intelligence that penetrates labels, and gives numbers and theorems meaning beyond their formulae.

Our mind separates us from our surroundings through differentiation, our heart unifies by seeking interrelatedness. A heart wants change, evolution, growth, even if it means pain in the short-term. It’s fiercely driven by curiosity, a passion to discover and connect. It leads us to new worlds and realizations, pastures for our mind (and us) to feed on and grow from.

Life & Lifestyle

Our lifestyle determines the quality and potential of our life. What you eat is what makes you, and what makes you is how you feel and perceive the world around you. A healthy lifestyle generates benefits beyond good blood test results – it motivates us, fortifying our ability to embrace life deeper, broader, longer.

Drink soda, and our energy levels become erratic, almost bipolar – a quick, anxious high followed by a depressive crash. Eat a fatty burger, and we feel comatose. Imagine what consuming these malnourishing foods long-term does to your body – and personality. The quality of energy that fuels us is what drives (or stalls) us in life.

We feel high on life when we feel motivated and purposeful. Instead of looking for motivation per se outside yourself, look for ways of producing higher quality energy within. That energy is the fuel that animates you and the appearance of the world that surrounds you. The cleaner the energy, the more you can be present, attentive, and in touch with what you are and want in life. Eating nutrient-rich, unprocessed foods, and staying physically active are essential ingredients to life. They are fundamental precursors to your physical, mental, and spiritual wellbeing.

Respecting yourself starts with respecting your body, your vessel in this physical existence. I disagree with philosophies of mind over body or spirit over body – those statements may sound grandiose and bold, but are ultimately short-lived because your mind and spirit cannot exist in this dimension without its physical counterpart. And a healthy physical counterpart at that. I prefer the approach of mind/spirit with body. A partnership of equal weight.

To me, staying fit is fundamental. I don’t obsess over it nor do I see it as work. It is a lifestyle choice, one which furthers my potential and ability to do more in life. To hike farther, to make love longer, to lend a helping hand more often, to be confident in who I am and what I can do. In short, to do and try.

Like many people, I’ve often asked myself what makes a good life. The best answer I can come up with at this moment is that a life well lived is a life well journeyed.

Potting Invasive Thoughts

There are thoughts that possess us and reduce our complexity to a compulsion. These invasive thoughts sprout from self-doubting seeds, breeding insecurity and conformation. When left unrecognized, they take root in the ground of our being. Their growth is exponential and parasitic, preying on our sense of self while giving little outside suffering in return. They possess us to the degree of losing control over our behaviour, priorities, and values. They alter our reality, our sense of normal.

Yet these invasive species of our mind should not be ignored, suppressed, or ripped out – just potted. Don’t let them take root in your garden, your ground of self, but give them space to make themselves known, contained in a mental pot. When understood, these dark seeds are wells of deeper information that our self-preservation often buries. They contain records of our interaction with world and life. Be aware of your feelings and seek out their origin. Embrace them without becoming them. By identifying the roots that vie for control over us, we control them. They become an adviser, not an adversary.

Death of a Sparrow

I came across a circle of sparrows on a sidewalk, all directing their attention, and concern, toward the centre. Laying in it was a dying sparrow. She was on her back, spasming, wings flapping uncontrollably – likely a window or car strike. Within a few moments, all movement ceased, and her avian companions flew off.

I picked up and cupped the motionless sparrow in my palms, hoping to detect or encourage any signs of life. There were none, only a limp, flatlined body. I placed her at the base of a nearby tree, stroked her head, and let the moment sink. My first reaction was one of sorrow. Another victim of endless terraforming. But looking around at her companions, who resumed flying, playing, chirping, courting, soaring freely through the air, my feelings brightened. This sweet bird may have died, but she also lived, and, if her companions are any indication, lived to her fullest.

Isn’t that what life should be about? Letting go, and taking the risk of living freely? Soaring to heights of our full potential, rather than mucking along, ensnared on habit, insecurity, conformation, and our endless obsession of being productive (and hence worthy according to some standard du jour)? Life is short, may be a cliche, but it is rooted in our intuition – something we should act on rather than talk about. Instead, we often act as if our lives are permanent: delaying, procrastinating, sticking to the familiar, etc. What the death of this beautiful sparrow reminded me is that our time is finite, and infinitely more precious than anything else we give value to in life. We need to respect it, and use it to broaden our reality, our scope of life, our taste of the unknown. The more we know, the more we are.

Death often strikes suddenly, and with little to no time to prepare. Sometimes, I think of my hypothetical posthumous self reflecting back on life. Was it lived well, freely, and fully? What did I want to do, but didn’t make the time to do it? I find asking these questions, even without providing any answers, adds drive and curiosity to life.

Idolatry of Seriousness

Nothing matters, and everything matters. Taking things too seriously is another form of idolatry – it narrows your life down to their scope, which gives them control over you. This can be anything from a person to an activity to an objective or an object. Having these idols of seriousness strips your life and personality of spark, and stimulates fervent craving, frustration and impatience. The infinite totality of your surroundings and inner potential is reduced to a few markers you worship as being absolute truths or boundaries. You live to feel safe, not to enjoy life. Ironically, too much seriousness produces fear, dependence, and emotional volatility. It spans the same spectrum as dogmatic religion – you are easily offended, and in return, are liberal with your offenses to defend those things you deem too serious, too holy, even if you don’t label them as such.

What liberates and enlightens is this moment, any moment, as long as you are present within it. It is everything because it is real, it is your life at present. This synchronicity of reality and awareness matters, because it aligns you with life as it unfolds. When you are aligned, you make more informed decisions, because they come from within (moment’s grace), not without (idols of seriousness). One way to cultivate the moment is to balance thinking with feeling, and then sprinkle it with playfulness. Overthinking produces projections, and with them, expectations and disappointments. It also encourages rigid, scripted behaviour, which gives few rewards in life beyond ticking check-boxes of acceptable behaviour and feeling safe. Life demands spark to keep on evolving: the unexpected, the spontaneous, the playful. These are the catalysts that motivate and move us forward – they express our inner potential, and help us evolve.

Ultimately, most situations we deem serious are reminders that we are trapped, that we have gripped certain elements in our life too tightly, and can’t let go. We can feel this intuitively and directly. It is a feeling of anxiety, as if something is gnawing at our heart, trying to reduce or contain it. This awareness alone is enough to loosen the grip, because you can pinpoint its source. To disarm it, try doing something unexpected, or adding some humour to the situation. The effect may not be instant, but it’ll give you the space to move forward.