Life and death...

The ideas in the recent blog post (Dealing with Terminal Illness) by Om Swami are quite in line with Tagore's Gitanjali Verse '...because I love this life, I know I shall love death as well...':


'I was not aware of the moment when I first crossed the threshold of this life. 
What was the power that made me open out into this vast mystery 
like a bud in the forest at midnight? 
When in the morning I looked upon the light 
I felt in a moment that I was no stranger in this world, 
that the inscrutable without name and form had taken me 
in its arms in the form of my own mother. 
Even so, in death the same unknown will appear 
as ever known to me. 
And because I love this life, I know I shall love death as well. 
The child cries out when from the right breast the mother takes it away 
to find in the very next moment its consolation in the left one.'

Phases in the journey of life...

It seems that, while carrying on with our day-to-day life, we pass through at least three distinct phases of life (there could be more, but maybe these three are easier to perceive).  The first phase is mostly concerned with the physical reality.  This seems to correspond with the early stages of working and family life.  Here, one focuses mostly on the material aspects of life: one relishes good food to satisfy the palate, one exercises to keep the body fit, one gets a job to 'bring home the bacon' and satisfy the physical indulgences, one marries for physical intimacy (in most cases), and so on.

In the next phase of life, we move a bit beyond the physical reality and crave emotional satisfaction.  The role at the workplace has to result in 'job satisfaction' and challenging content.  The marital relationship has to mature more towards emotional support rather than purely physical.  One starts looking for 'mind satisfaction' beyond bodily fitness.  And in the next stage, many among us move into the spiritual domain (or at least try to).  Looking at a job 'making a difference' in the larger context.  Looking to satisfy our curiosity on 'meaning of life'.  Wanting our spouses to support, or even join, our spiritual quest.  And so on.  

Maslow's famed hierarchy of needs, though devised mostly from a workplace perspective, seems to have a resonance with these phases of life.  The 'physiological' and 'safety' needs seem to be in the physical domain, 'love and belonging' and 'esteem' on the emotional plane, and 'self-actualization' points towards spiritual portends. 

There is also something to be said for the 'aashram' system devised in ancient times in India.  Moving beyond the education stage with celebacy (brahmacharya'), the 'grihasth aashram' (householder) stage seemed to correspond to the 'physical' reality.  The 'vaanprasth aashram' (pre-renunciation) stage may be seen to roughly correspond to the 'emotional' phase, while the 'sanyaas aashram' (renunciation) stage probably helped the 'spiritual' quest.

Important thing to note is, there seems to be no hard and fast rule as to the bodily age when someone may progress form one phase to another.  It may depend on a multitude of factors - conditions of life (especially at early stages), education, social conditioning, peer pressure, family & other responsibilities, et al.  And there is no issue as long as the concerned person is fully aware of and reconciled to these factors and their effect on the journey of life.  The problem seems to arise when, while one's 'inner being' is yearning to break free and move on to the next phase, one is constrained to latch on to an earlier phase.

This may happen due to both internal and external factors.  Internally, one may struggle to hold on to a set of beliefs or way of being which is contrary to one's deeper tendencies towards a next phase.  One may be so hooked to the physical indulgences as to refuse to let go of them even while the mind says otherwise.  One's ego may be so big as to preclude forming emotionally satisfying relationships, whether at work or at home.  Externally, to earn a livelihood and make ends meet, one may be forced to do mundane jobs, while the mind yearns for more job satisfaction.  Or the predominant behavioral patterns (for instance aggression, or unscrupulousness) in certain job roles or in certain industries may be contrary to the inner needs of contributing to a 'bigger picture'.  One may wish to foster more emotional relationships, but lack of maturity of the partner may be a constraining factor.  One may even want to renounce certain ways of living and move on to the spiritual plane (akin to 'vaanprasth' or 'sanyaas' stages of yore), but family and other economic responsibilities may not provide the leeway.  Could it be that many of the ills, of society as well as in individuals, are a result of this 'inner conflict' between what one yearns to do and what one is forced to do?  The essential selfishness, the sense of rootlessness, the cynicism and loss of moral values...

But then how is it that our fathers and grandfathers (mother and grandmothers as well) seemed to manage to transit more smoothly between the various phases of life?  One answer may lie in the level of 'connectedness'.  In earlier times, the adage 'no man is an island' was perhaps more true.  Everyone seemed to be part of a large family (even if not living together), of a community (with shared value systems), of a nation (bound by patriotism).  Even if a person was madly busy at the workplace, for instance, s/he would usually find some time and space to connect with the community, either on the religious plane (by visits to temples or 'satsang', for instance) or social (as harmless as 'gossip groups').  But it seems that in our relentless quest to make the 'best use of our time', we've just exiled any space to connect with others, on any plane.  So while we have the means to instantly connect to anyone across the globe, we don't feel it necessary to connect to the next person (at best we just 'do our duty' by sending him/her a text/instant message!).

One possible solution (and there may be countless others) to this conundrum, the resolution of this inner conflict, may lie in two concepts: 'vasudhaiv kutumbakam' (the world is one family) and 'solitary journey'.  These two may seem contradictory at first, since one concerns the self while the other concerns the world.  But with some thinking, one may realize that one could be at peace with the world only when one is at peace with himself/herself!  The path to self realization is essentially a solitary journey.  If one is lucky, one may find co-passengers on the path, or even a guide, but all the effort required to 'know oneself' has to be exerted by the individual oneself.  

And when one is reasonably 'at peace' with himself/herself, one may realize that 'we're all on the same boat' - self realization by its very nature expands the consciousness to include all within its fold...

Split personality?

Can someone have one type of personality (or behaviour style) at work and another, totally different one in personal life?

The question arose in my mind while doing as mundane a thing as watching an episode of a Hindi soap on TV called 'Baray Achchhay Lagtay Hain...' (loosely translated as 'we like it so much...' - actually from the opening stanza of a song from a Hindi movie of yore, 'Atithi' starring Sachin).  The soap supposedly deals with the life of a couple who get married 'late' (as per Indian standards) i.e. 40 for the man and 33 for the woman (though it seems to be taking excruciatingly long, in true TV soap style, getting to the point where they actually get married).

The main male character Ram (the name cleverly aluding to Lord Rama, thus building up a positive imagery from the beginning), supposedly a business tycoon, is introduced in a boardroom scene involving an acquisition, where his ruthless business sense is well displayed, though also tinged with pragmatism when, after having rejected the deal once, he goes back to the negotiating table and seals it only for the reason that he needs the plane that the company's owner has, to get back to base for his sister's wedding!  In another scene, he's shown working his executives even on a Sunday (though he relents when they start receiving calls from their families, one after the other!).

Regardless of such scenes interspersed, hinting at Ram's 'soft side', his 'alpha male' personality is further reinforced when he gets vengeful on the family of the main female character Priya for delaying him from reaching his late father's memorial service (when their cars scrape past each other).  The trait is again displayed when he deals aggressively with Priya's family when his sister slashes herself due to the unresponsiveness of Priya's brother with whom she's supposedly in love.

However, the guy is shown as 'super soft and sensitive' in scenes involving his family.  It seems he allows his step-mom to walk all over him, even while he realizes perhaps that she's sort of exploiting him (for instance, by deliberately blocking marriage proposals for him) while not according him the same status as her own son (who must be present for his sister's wedding, even as Ram makes all the arrangements!).  She even puts him down firmly when he hints that his late father's (and her late husband's) memorial ceremony is perhaps more important than attending an auction.  But Ram continues to go all mush and weak-in-the-knees on anything involving his family (including the little sis who seems total bonkers).

So, to return to the original question, can a person have such 'split personality'?  Some would say: ideally, yes.  There is a saying "Don't bring your office home".  But in today's world, is this really achievable, or more of a utopia?  Can a hard-driving executive really just 'switch off' when s/he leaves office and assume another, perhaps 'softer'/more benevolent avatar before s/he reaches home?  That could also mean, especially in these BlackBerry times when one is supposed to be 'online' 24x7, that the person would've to 'switch-on/switch-off' rapidly in a matter of minutes between his/her 'office personality' and 'home personality'!  Is that doable?  The answer seems more like a tentative "Maybe", even for putative supermen/women!

Which brings us round to the other side of the equation: does one's 'home personality' (see above) affect one's 'office personality'?  Again, ideally it is not meant to.  One is supposed to assume a more 'professional' attitude/behavior (whatever that means, in the specific context) once s/he enters office, leaving behind personal issues.  However, this also seems more ideal than realistic.  Just as (to be PC!) 'behind every successful (wo)man there is an ideal spouse'(i), can we perhaps say that 'behind every grumpy boss there is a quarrelsome spouse', or even that 'behind every confidence-deficient executive there is a domineering spouse'?! (:-).

Begs the question.

Life - a prism?

Sometimes it seems that the core of our being is quite like a glassy prism (for those not inclined to math/geometry or physics: a three-sided solid block, sometimes made of clear glass-like substances): it receives light on one surface and (depending on some factors, read on) projects a somewhat changed light through another surface, a process known in physics as refraction.  The important thing is, the light going into the prism and that coming out is almost never the same - it may be at a different angle, or a different colour, sometimes a rainbow of colours.  To maintain this prism of life so it serves the purpose, we seem to have two duties:

One, to keep polishing the surfaces.  If the surface facing the source of the light is not clear, it wouldn't be able to let the light through to its innards, and thus perhaps be unable to give out any light.  The cleaner the receiving surface is, the more light it can perhaps receive (and give out!).  On the other hand, if the surfaces transmitting the light out are not clean, they wouldn't be able to give out the light either, regardless of how much light they receive and of what quality.  Some may be tempted to embellish the transmitting surfaces, to represent to the possible recipients of the light a different face than the actual.  However, remember that too much embellishment can actually affect the transparency of the surface and block the light going through.  Ideally, when the surfaces are smoothly polished, they almost act like mirrors, giving out the light inside but at the same time reflecting back the true image of the one who looks at it.

The second duty, it seems, is to control what goes inside the prism.  Yes, the surfaces of the prism are permeable, able to absorb outside material and vibrations (a process known in physics as osmosis), especially through the surface which is in touch with the base.  Some things going inside can improve the ability of the prism to act as a true transmitter of the refracted light.  However, other things can adversely affect this ability or, in extreme cases, react violently with the material of the prism, causing it to decay and eventually disintegrate.

And once the prism disintegrates, whether due to efflux of time or due to reactions as above, what is left is just a useless mess of particles.

Appreciating everyday beauty

Got a forward from a former colleague this morning, which set me thinking. Here goes the story:

"A man sat at a metro station in Washington DC and started to play the violin; it was a cold January morning. He played six Bach pieces for about 45 minutes. During that time, since it was rush hour, it was calculated that thousands of people went through the station, most of them on their way to work. The only one who paid the most attention was a 3 year old boy. However, his mother tagged him along. This action was repeated by several other children. All the parents, without exception, forced them to move on.

In 45 minutes, the musician played but only 6 people stopped and stayed for a while. About 20 gave him money but continued to walk their normal pace. He collected $32.

When he finished playing and silence took over, no one noticed it ! No one applauded! nor was there any recognition! No one knew this but the violinist was Joshua Bell, one of the best musicians in the world. He played one of the most intricate pieces ever written with a violin worth 3.5 million dollars. Two days before his playing in the subway, Joshua Bell sold out at a theater in Boston and the seats average $100.

This is a real story. Joshua Bell playing incognito in the metro station was organized by the Washington Post as part of a social experiment about perception, taste and priorities of people.

The outlines were:
In a commonplace environment at an inappropriate hour: Do we perceive beauty? Do we stop to appreciate it? Do we recognize the talent in an unexpected context?

Observation:
In our routine life, we are caught in so many daily mundane transactions that we do not have time to think about life goals, our beliefs, close relations and miss out on reaping benefits of valuable interactions & learning's!"

So true. In our rush to keep up with 'life', as we define it, we mostly forget to appreciate everyday beauty. Even I, who is pontificating on this topic, mostly forget the easily available beauties in life - my son riding horse on me, his face when asleep, a flower in our lawn, the movement of a clouds, or of the moon among them, a creature (e.g. a chameleon) in our yard (I've taken to photographing these - the last three I have).

Over-emotional as it may sound, life is too short and goes too fast for us to keep postponing our 'enjoyment' of it. Don't know when it may end, or suddenly lose charm (like when we suddenly realise we are 'old'). Better to smell the flowers whenever we can.