Equilibrium: Closing Out the Decade
Part I: Lessons from the Playground
It has been quite some time since I last visited a playground. 10 years or less or more. The slides and the swings no longer fit. The sands have been replaced with solid grounds. The children no longer breathe. And I am no longer a child.
I have a friend who has a lot of childlike features, both physically and essentially. I don't envy her, but I think I should. As children, all we ever aspired to do was grow. There was something so wondrous about being an adult. To this day, no one knows what it is - what could have caused the unfathomable desire to escape the playground? In retrospect, it might have been our consciousness about the world beyond the boundaries of our small play area. We were happy, I recall. But there used to be a childlike unease concerning the limitations of our freedom. There was a lot more uncharted territories, which translated to more risks, more ways to get our hands dirty, more girls we can try and impress, higher places we can jump off, rougher surfaces we can scrape our knees against, deeper pools we can spring towards, more fascinating experiences to indulge in. There was always something new. Unbeknownst to us, it was such childlike curiosity that killed - or severely harmed - the children inside of us.
The unease steadily morphed into teenage angst. What should've been lessons learned from the playground were rejected, thrashed, and regarded as impotent. The bigger the land, the longer and more tiresome it is to reach its borders. Our perception faced an unprecedented expansion. It was 2009, and to me, that was when all of life ended and all of it began. It was the last year of a peaceful era. Now, a decade or more or less later, we are paying attention. We are carefully observing as the teenage angst shifts the narrative towards existential despair. We are watching as the world capitalizes on our mental health and physical limitations and financial burdens and emotional disconnections and spiritual discrepancies. We are coming to grips with the fact that this is what we spent countless nights dreaming about. It's all coming to fruition. We're growing. The swings are mood swings. The slides are pitfalls of doom. The seesaw is a representation of severe imbalances. This is our new playground.
There are countless things we should have been taught back when nothing else mattered but what pieces of information would find their way into our brains. We never wanted to just be happy. We wanted to win. We lived off of the euphoric essence of competition. Everything was force-feeding us. But what we should've been taught is how to breathe. We should’ve been taught how to be present. We should’ve been taught how to be so full of empathy, how to be normal, how to follow first and lead second. We should've been taught how to conquer ourselves rather than the playground. How to befriend the little girls rather than shove them aside. How to switch grumpiness with gratitude. How to accept when it's time to leave, and acknowledge the fact that the playground wasn't really going anywhere. It was us who would always leave - and there came a point where we left for good, without ever intending to.
We are built to experience, and then to outgrow. This is one of the major lessons I have been taught in 2019 - and throughout the better part of the entire decade. We are meant to always outgrow things, and people, and places, and emotions. It is not to be taken with a grain of salt. It is to be accepted, wholeheartedly, and exploited. This is how we keep on growing, and keep on knowing, and keep on seeking, and keep on being. And the inner child must grow with us. We never should've left the inner child all by himself hanging at the edge of the playground. We should’ve come back. We should’ve closed the circle. He should be our compass and our guidance. He should be happy. He should be aware. He should be present at all times. We must ask his forgiveness for all the years we neglected him and paid him no mind. The only way we can grow is through reconciling with the inner child, so that we both can take care of each other, and keep moving forward.
Part II: Two Thousand and Nine
2009 was when all of life ended and all of it began.
I abandoned my inner child, thinking it was the way to grow. But I could never outgrow myself. I can see it clearly now, 10 years later. This is dedicated to the childlike unease and the teenage angst and the existential despair and the years in between. I had to go through all the phases, in order to be able to say that I’m happy. I am living the dream of my 14-year-old self, 10 years later. And this is yet another phase, but rather a soothing one.
I recently stumbled across my wish-list from 2009, only to realize that I own everything on the list today. I no longer have issues with fate. My 14-year-old self would break down and burst into tears of joy knowing that. There are so many things I've been through this decade, on every aspect imaginable. This is by far the most defining period of my life. Everything that I am today is a result of who I was in 2009. All the knowledge, all the sentiment, all the pop culture references, all the music taste, all the possessions, all the friendships, all the heartbreaks, all the good times and the bad ones, all the memories, all the hugs, all the role models, all the tears, all the mental agitation, all the spiritual discombobulation, all that I am and all that I was are one and the same. I’ve come to realize there is so much I still share with my 2009 persona. That is not being stale and stagnant. That is being in tune with my inner child.
Throughout 10 years, I went from 50 pounds a month to full financial freedom. I went from daily toxic fights to one stable relationship. I went from lack of faith and disbelief to a total state of surrender. I went from not being able to talk much, to song recording and public speaking. I went from being the quietest to being the wisest. I went from small adventures to big-scale journeys. I went from ignorance to more ignorance, and it couldn’t get more idyllic. I went from rebellion to acceptance, from torment to tranquility, and from wasted to limitless potential.
Was it all flowers and rainbows and sunshine? Surely it wasn’t. Neither for me nor for you. This decade has been our coming of age story. It might’ve contained more downs than ups or quite the opposite. But what if we decide to live by choice? There is a lot of reflection to be made. What if there was something more? What if all these moments have been leading to one particular revelation?
Part III: Libra
2019 was all about balance. The challenge was to balance internal incoherence with external experiences. It was more of an equation, with me being all of its factors. How could I maintain my nirvana amid the world’s dejection? How can I break the mould of the greatest lie of the century? In order to find the answer to that, I made lots of jumps this year, and so I lost my balance somewhere down the road.
The first two months of 2019 were harsh. March was the first time I ever travel by myself, accompanied only by my thoughts. It was a noiseless week. I prayed and did lots of meditation exercises. I swam and I breathed and I had good food. And then I realized that one good meal is just the same as one good body massage, and both resemble one good week. What these things have in common is that they all end, leaving no long-lasting effects behind; nothing but the hunger, the ache, and the turbulence.
Come the summer, I was head deep in a quarter-life crisis marked by a severe case of existential boredom. Something was off balance. All I remember is the bed. Everything else seems to be a subconsciously realistic lie. One divine sign and a couple of months later, I was checking items off my bucket-list. My faith was being restored. Something is so absurd with the nature of this universe and how it works. But I vow to forever be a student, and always follow the signs.
The final quarter of 2019 was hectic. But I didn't mind it at all. I've come to discover that the more chaotic things are, the sharper my vision is to see through the madness, and make peace with the way things are. I exist within the traffic. And I have to expand my capacity for that. I neglected myself for a few weeks, but I guess that was an exercise in balance as well. My personal vision right now revolves around a balanced life and a balanced lifestyle, with no need to speed up the pace or desire to win any race. A life that is secure but full of risk. One where time can be expanded, and stress can be minimized. Where freedom is the only motive. Where work is something to do not something to live, and the same goes for leisure. A life of everlasting growth, where everything leads up to certain points of reflection and evaluation that eventually lead to more growth. A life with less of everything in it, and more of life itself.
So now that we're ready to close out the decade, here is a list of the major events that helped shape me in 10 years:
• 2010: I was introduced to Philosophy.
• 2011: I lived through a revolution.
• 2012: My first time in a recording studio.
• 2013: My first year of college.
• 2014: The peak of my fight for minority rights.
• 2015: My first proper exploration of love.
• 2016: The saddest summer of my coming of age story.
• 2017: My journey to becoming whole.
• 2018: My year of conscription.
• 2019: My year of being off balance.
Part IV: The Greatest Lie Ever Told
As of right now, I'm wondering how much patience and presence and focus would it require for someone to read through these words. I, personally, have fallen victim to the comfort of skimming through listicles, and have only allowed myself to watch 2-minute videos for a while. I envy those who seem to have the time to completely absorb entire books, and digest full documentaries, and be patient enough to find the best track on an album. It lies in the realms of absurdity to me how I, as a culture kid, have grown impatient; how much my ability to consume information and ideas and products has changed over the years. Despite what it may seem, I have not even picked up a book for at least a year. And that is only one of countless examples of how absent-minded I've become. It actually is quite a difficult task to keep on writing this piece of deep reflection, because it seems that I've forgotten what it's like to write. And I have went on for the better part of the decade proclaiming myself a writer.
This is not a moment of self-doubt. It is merely a reflection on the general state of the millennial generation, and how the age of fast-paced content and product consumption has affected us. It is quite amusing really, how deep such shift can go, to be fully embedded within some people's DNA. I used to be a high-functioning powerhouse. I’ve always thought that the way to be as great as I would like to be was through relentlessness. I spent the first half of the decade trying to make a name for myself, and now I’m just suffering the consequences of all the burnout. This is one of the greatest lies of our generation. Productivity.
In 2019, I finally took the decision to completely shut down my dependence on social media platforms (except for Facebook). It was a very tough decision. It felt as if I was wiping away my entire digital presence, erasing an endless stream of consciousness and memories and acquaintances in the process. But something needed to happen and it needed to be abrupt. Any hesitation couldn’t have snatched me out of a seriously crucial phase. Despite heavily relying on platforms like Instagram for my daily dose of visual stimulation, and Twitter for my 4 AM ramblings and human empowerment, I realized that I cannot live in binary. The real world is a non-stop force, and the digital representation of our existence was in fact a misrepresentation.
Staying off social media platforms felt like a major relief. But this isn’t to say that the decision has propelled me to pursue my passions or assisted me in getting over my existential boredom phase. The main focus was to just stay quiet, and not have to always feel like there is time being wasted, and events being missed, and thoughts left unread, and souls left sans solace. I had to clear my head and focus on doing the same things in different ways. The lie of productivity is one of the evils we are surrounded by. We do not really have to be productive at all times. We do not have to lose sleep over the daydreams of greatness. We do not have to have a fully stacked events calendar. Some spans of time will have you completely snowed under, and some others will leave you wondering what to make of your life.
But busiest men don’t have the most leisure as the saying goes. Because the second greatest lie of our time is self-care. It is of the essence to take care of yourself; heart, mind, body, and soul. But the narrative regarding well-being has gotten so confused recently and we do not yet know what to make of these arguments. The issue might indeed be full of confusion, but in light of my recent letting go phase, I have rounded up the simplest steps I personally started following that make me indulgent in positive self-care.
• Laughter.
• Breathing.
• Basking in the glory of the sun.
• Really refusing without the guilt trip.
• Letting go of both emotional and materialistic baggage.
• Cooking.
• Running.
• Tea.
• Stargazing.
• Really loud music.
• Hugs.
• Great burgers.
• Remembering the inner child.
• Buying something.
They’re really simple activities, maybe even naive. But maybe that’s because I’m still surrounded by the lies, and I’m still in the process of letting go.
Part V: Memories Don't Leave Like People Do
While getting caught up in deep thought regarding the concept of letting go, and how we are built to experience then to outgrow, I concluded that there is no such thing as eternal human connections. I don’t say this in a bad sense but rather a more realistic approach. Just trying to count how many humans I’ve encountered in the past 10 years and how many are the ones I’ve kept is a truly mesmerizing thought. I am absolutely grateful for all the encounters and the acquaintances and the deeper connections, but there is no way we will ever get to keep 100% of the people we come across in life. And I think that’s the beauty of it. I think, going into the next decade, we must make peace with the fact that all those we love will eventually fade away. It doesn’t have to be an agonizing experience. It could just be a wavelength discrepancy, or an emotional incompatibility, or even a pursuit of dreams. That won’t mean that something is flawed. On the contrary, that is the perfection of the universe taking place, and the energies of cosmic connections bouncing off each other.
I partially still remember who I used to be friends with back in 2009. Some have stayed because our fates are still meant to cross. Regardless, the purpose of me saying this is to acknowledge every single individual my soul has encountered thus far. It does not matter the name or the age or the status, I probably haven’t forgotten about you. And even if I don’t think of you often, you still exist within me, and whatever sort of mark left by you has taken shape and fulfilled its purpose. I am who I am because amid all the intergalactic particles, you and I met, and that must count for something. So, to whoever is reading this, thank you, now and always, for being a part of my journey. You always know where to find me and for the life in me, I hope I’ll always be available to answer your call.
Part VI: Conversations
Last summer, I started an initiative to converse as a way to truly experience what it means to be human and indulge in the divinity of human connections. Humans are where I always find God. And such territory shall always remain uncharted no matter how much exploration takes place. I believe humanity to be a shared experience, and that our paths cross for certain significance, but all we can ever do is experiment. And that was my experiment; to just freely have a meaningful and soulful conversation. I was never sure what the ultimate purpose of those conversations might be. I only remember telling all the people I’ve met that I’ll be writing something about it. I guess this is it. Or a part of it at least. I met with many different people and we had a number of beautiful conversations. I remember them all distinctly. Going into 2020, I want to keep this practice alive. I will try to meet and converse with more people, lightheartedly, in the hopes that it may help someone see God the way I do, or even see themselves the way I do.
I learned a lot through these conversations, about the places and the events and the thoughts that shape the humans in front of me. All the complexities and the nuances and the quirks and the pet peeves and the solitary engagements. One conversation helped me reflect on my college years, another inspired me to take a major step in the right direction, another was solely focused on film and music, and another hit me so deep because of how much pride it made me feel. A conversation made me realize I’m on my way to reaching nirvana, and another wasn’t really full of talking but a favourite pastime, and many others helped me stay put and contained and made me sure I was always in my right place.
So what does it mean to be human, beyond the physical and the spiritual aspects? I believe that to be human is to be aware, free, and uncertain. Being truly human requires that you be aware of all the things that got you here, how they affect you, how they shape you, what they’re made of. You have to be aware of your presence amid a much larger scheme, within a system so intricate it belittles your own inner complexities. You must also be aware that the minuteness of your presence does not equate to it being insignificant. Everything is a matter of life and death to us. From basic human needs like hunger, to more complex sensations like toothache, to emotional encounters like being rejected. It all matters, because it all makes you all the more human. And you’ll never get it right. And surrendering to this fact is a major part of your freedom. As humans, you have full freedom to err. To be incorrect is to be human. And the more you try to counter that, the more you stray away from your own humanity. The higher the levels you try to reach, the harder the fall. So this is a public call to stop reaching for the angels, and just acknowledge that both you and the angels share the same uncertain soul. Don’t ever claim to own any answers. I pray to God you never become rigid.
Part VII: God
All ways lead to God.
Throughout this decade, my relationship with God has been somewhat rocky, to say the least. Personally, I do not favour sharing spiritual experiences publicly. I would rather do it in person.
In 2017, I found God. In 2018, I worked on befriending Him. In 2019, I am honing my faith.
This year taught me that everything in life is about God. All people should be loved through God’s soul. All actions should be performed in God’s name. And all existence should continue to last by God’s blessings. God exists as above so below, as within so without.
My relationship with Ashraqat has so much of God embedded within. We completed 3 years this month. She brings me closer to God, and He brings me closer to her. This year, we both introduced our inner children to each other. They became soulmates.
Part VIII: We Need a Resolution
I have been reading what everybody has had to share regarding their year or their decade. If there is anything I feel the need to say, it would be to ditch the lists, and stick to the virtues. Ditch the lists, and stick to the principles. Ditch the lists, and focus on the growth. Ditch the lists, and sharpen the vision. Ditch the big goals, and focus on the small actions. It feels relieving being able to share this now. Humanity is a shared experience, and I will forever owe it to the internet for always bringing us closer, and helping us exist together amid a shared space of synergy.
For 2020, I will be focusing on a new main theme. I have written down some digestible steps that all revolve around a better, more fine-tuned life. Not that I’ll ever have the answer, but this is as eloquent as it gets.
Once again, I thank you for being a part of my journey - even a temporary one. And I hope I have been a positive addition to yours.
Originally shared on Facebook on Wednesday, January 1, 2020.
