“Objective judgement, now, at this very moment. Unselfish action, now, at this very moment. Willing acceptance – now, at this very moment – of all external events. That’s all you need.”
Marcus Aurelius, Meditation
Pardo – Nishu
We all feel we are in need of help.
We all feel there’s a rescue boat coming for us. Our prince charming desperately waiting for us to show up.
We all feel inadequate, incomplete, tiny, meaningless, clueless, fucked!
We all feel full and also empty, stressed, consumed, pinched, broken, bitten, and betrayed.by.fate.
We feel we’re at an unfortunate place, the wrong time!
Haven’t you?
Something, s.o.m.e—thing is always not in its place. Not the way it is supposed to be. Something is always off!
Isn’t it?
These anchors you experience, these caveats of a modern, … normal human life, these proxy urgencies, distractions, all these shit shows occurring, recurring over and over are simply inevitable.
That, it is the way.
And I’m here to tell you that — that’s just fine!
Only remember: the lights could’ve only found its sweetest place with us because there’s a grave darkness that also lives in and around us.
The fact that there’s good also defaults us that there has to be bad as well. And you’d want to be constantly, consistently choosing the right side.
Remember, sometimes the only best way is — through.
And remember that during all those difficult-of-times, a whisper within you MUST say — this too shall pass!
Matter of fact, fear is without-a-doubt, the best life tool!
But wait!
It depends on what sort-of fear is it that keeps you awake.
Fighting. Fucked.
Unresting. Unsatisfied.
Investing. Investigating.
A question lingers.
Who and What you should fear the most?
the virus?
.. for students — perhaps their self-centered teacher?
.. for laborers — maybe their pain-in-the-ass boss?
.. ignorant parents?
.. selfish girlfriend?
.. disloyal boyfriend?
.. of being wrong?
.. of perhaps boredom too?
.. dear addictions?
.. your one-sided love?
.. losing health slash getting cancer?
.. loneliness?
.. emptiness in emptiness?
.. the excruciating, ruminating, painful, stressing, pressing, rumbling thoughts after thoughts?
.. spineless people and their IMHO fucked-up point-of-views?
.. injustice?
.. losing your loved ones?
.. never-ending problems?
.. the world itself?
.. maybe life?
.. death?
Well, today I want to present to you with an antidote to all your fears for all the wrong reasons.
Again, unsolicited.
A genuinely, very very important inquiry apparatus for seeking the truth.
A baby question but so profound.
Just ask:
Is this thing that I’m constantly thinking about, worrying about, fearing about, nagging about, complaining about, pissed-off about, fussing about — in or out of my hands, in or out of my control?
That’s it.
Be deliberately, un-foolishly, un-emotionally objective.
And, talking about good fears.
Fear certainty.
Fear not learning, not growing or more verbosely put — The Stagnancy.
Fear not knowing the difference between objectivity and superficiality.
Fear not asking THE RIGHT QUESTIONS?
Fear stale, stupid days.
Fear lying. Fear not telling the truth.
Fear taking yourself too seriously.
Fear not taking responsibility of your life.
Fear for the right thing.
On a departing note for the week my friend:
This short video by my mentor Tim Ferris will hopefully enlighten some heavy shits out of you.
“If a man knows not to which port he sails, no wind is favorable.
Seneca the Younger
Kyun Main Jaagoon – Patiala House
They say, you only have a present.
They say, excellence is a myth.
I beg to differ.
Rather I argue, we have The Present and A Future at the same time.
That mediocrity is a choice and so is excellence.
Now why I’d say that? Why bother for future, … for something absolutely inconceivable? Why not settle with the circus of this immediate present?
Well, mostly, I say that — because it’s my life’s thesis.
It’s one truth which still cuts me closest to the bones.
It’s why I still get sleepless nights trying to re-adjust myself, self-reflecting, if I’m on the other side of the aisle.
To the path of eternal mediocrity. Invested in the circus of the present without accounting for the future.
Again, why you’d ask?
Although this is far behind me. Today, I’ve a confession to make.
I come from an excellently, financially deprived family. Now, from my simplistic barometer, we were and still are the wealthiest nuclear family in assets that include massive amount of love and compassion with gigantic bungalow of kindness and limitless, exotic, mouthwatering happiness per se [No exaggeration intended]. However, as I was just graduating my 10th standard, my mum perhaps painfully dropped a hint that she, … our family, might not be able to invest in my school of choice. That I were to look for some cheap alternative education or at best — scholarships!
Fact: She loaned her only left jewelries to get me admitted to a science school.
No doubt, this was heartbreaking for merely a 16 year old teen to fathom at that time.
To him. For I — The future was grim. And there was no fucking light at the end of the tunnel.
There were no free throws.
No silver spoon shoved up in my arse.
No life jacket for a drowning sailor!
No free snacks for the hungry dreamer.
No free air for someone with a heavy, collapsing, coronoid lung.
No free reality.
No free, nothing!
Looking back, I can heart-fullysay. This has been the cornerstone of my identity, that, this is perhaps the only reason why I put my heart and my ass together in w.h.a.t.e.v.e.r I do.
That, this is why, I seek meat work, mattered work, pure work, real work in every forms of work.
Now, don’t mistake me for boasting this shit out, or for someone who’s trying to earn your pity or your likability or sorts because of this out-of-my-hands circumstances and how I’ve dealt with the cards I was handed and came out okay. No, not a fridging way!
I’m just saying that if you are not ready to do some hardcore shits; Not prepared to get comfortable with the uncomfortable and grow as you grow and put up your best foot forward in your present for your future to be;
You are a slow cancer to yourself,
and you’re soon to be those painful Hemorrhoids right inside the butt hole,
and for sure, obsolete,
and easily disposable and useless,
and soulless,
and a bag of disappointments and god knows what.
Now, Excellence.
[Metaphorically speaking – No disrespect intended, nor praise]
The difference between well-filled mind and a well-formed mind is ridiculously of a street dog and The Elon Musk.
Again, no disrespect intended, nor praise.
Well-filled mind.
Well, it needs instructions. It’s lazy. Repetitive. It’s easy life. Easy choice. Life is fate, fate is life kind of blokes.
Wild.
Free.
Fucked!
Well-Formed mind.
Well, it needs work, doesn’t it?
Original thinkers.
Midnight fuel.
Innovators.
Curious. Creators.
Examining. Experimenting.
Forming. Un-forming. Reforming.
Seeking.
Becoming.
They are disrupters.
They’re the future.
Whence, if that’s not the scent of excellence, what is?
In short.
In this complicated world.
In this noisy world.
Excellence is a journey.
Excellence is expensive.
Excellence comes at a price. With a price!
Begin with the end in mind!
Present for future, but there has to be one, isn’t it?
The first time I ever got close to winning or acing at anything in my life was — an Intra School Essay Competition when I was studying at my high school,12th grade.
On the day of the contest, I also had to attend a serious cricket match between the two rivalry team (NrEST Cricket Club vs Passa Cricket Club) in our district.
I started as an opening batsman chasing for the score on the board, and gracefully, to my standard played a wonderful cricket there. I left the match as soon as I was taken out of the wicket and rushed to attend an impending essay competition. It’s still fresh in my mind how I ran off the field that day.
I had reached the venue a bit late. And, all I saw, were serious, … serious spectacle-guys and girls (meant no disrespect) individually seated on their respective tables — already writing!
As far as I can tell — in my head at that instant, I was relieved to see, for good one day that neither I was wearing my uniform, while few of them did but many none had their college uniforms on. I was like, this is cool! And, the only reason I can think of as to why I was attending that holy event after having depleted all my battery on the match was only and only because a friend had requested my participation. I had no fucking business there, no hopes of wining at all … at all.
So, I was given this blank piece of paper (as soon as I entered the hall), along with a pen and was quietly and quickly ushered towards my designated seat.
We were to write an 800 words essay on problems cum issues of our country on energy crisis.
[What the fat fuck do I know about our country, specially for a boy who’sspent most of his life, at barely a kilometer radius far from his home. ]
But anyways, I was determined to write about my fucking ‘load-shedding’ problem in our house.
Now, this is the funniest part: I was extremely thirsty, and sure, was sweating as pig, but without-a-shame and politely, requested for a glass of water. After few minutes, one of the good samaritan guy bought me one with his kind smile and confused eyes as he sneak-peeked into my neat, white papers. I haven’t written shits!
[haha]
This one alone; This epic scent of sweet reminiscence alone still brings me joy till the date. God!
And my holy, frecking god;- all I did .. all i did, in those entire 3 hours long period of the contest was drank that same served glass of water, pretending it’s a fucking whisky, and for real, and wrote the entire things which I didn’t even care to proof read for once.
Meaning, till this day, I still don’t know what i wrote!
[haha]
Now, I wasn’t the first one to submit my papers but most certainly I did.
That’s how.
That.is.how I got my first small, fancy trophy for my debut intellectual indulgence.
“We are not nouns, we are verbs. I am not a thing – an actor, a writer – I am a person who does things – I write, I act – and I never know what I’m going to do next. I think you can be imprisoned if you think of yourself as a noun.”
Stephen Fry
To an aspiring writer, there’s nothing more perplexing & paralyzing than an empty page and blinking cursor.
Dull. White. Asking for attention! Freezing. Powerful!
Brain vomit is inevitable.
Without-a-doubt, I’ve been in this avenue so many times. In the word of one of my mentor, the author of one of my most favorite book — The War of Art, Mr. Steven Pressfield; He calls it Resistance.
He also adds that the thing you ought to be doing when you have ‘resistance’ is just show up and do the work. Begin!
Charlie Munger best described it as ‘assiduity’. Read this interesting article.
This might surprise you to know that even as i write this, writing — scares the shit out of me. Well, scary, numbing, because I care.
It might surprise you even more as I now openly confront to the fact that the first time I ever used TheF – bomb was only on mid of twenty seventeen. Trust me it was fudging scary! Plus, let me tell you, I’m deeply aware when I drop one in any of my writing. Without resistance. Without hesitation.
Because.
I chose, organic to plastic. Authentic to conforming. Un-filtered to fabricated. Deliberate to careless. Imperfect to sugary. Substance to substitute.
Oh, writing is difficult.
Today, I wanted to write about infidelity. I wanted to pen on the must virtues of a true man in love. I also wanted to write about this. I wanted to write about my Work From Home experience.
Perhaps some other day.
Lastly, as my twitter handle @8ijayshrestha suggests — Verb.
An aspiring writer, it is.
Food for thought.
As a bonus, I want to give away one last thing which I’m sure, you won’t regret.
“The greatest obstacle to living is expectancy, which hangs upon tomorrow and loses today… The whole future lies in uncertainty: live immediately.”
Seneca
Covid-19 Map as of March 26, 2020
This is a COVID-19 map from Johns Hopkins, Univeristy of Medicine . And THIS my friend — tells a lot about us!
Sure, nobody saw it coming. And most certainly, we did not want any of this lockdown shit, at least not for causes as grave as this… at all.
But, there’s an important lesson for all of us to mull over. For all of the remaining un-deads; Un-affected-s … for those far fetched from the claws of malignancy and heartbreaks and despair and hell.
That not now but someday sooner-or-later, we will all die as some of us will turn to ashes and some, food for worms.
So.
Duly, contemplify.
Love. Grace. Appreciate.
Be happy that you and your loved ones are fucking breathing.
[ Don’t know about you but I’ve to remind myself of this so many times in any ordinary day! ]
It’s Day 3 since Nepal Government imposed a nation-wide lockdown to contain coronavirus spread in the country.
Commendable caution there.
It’s also Day 3 that I’ve been working from home.
Working more insane hours than ever.
Fuck!
And just yesterday, I’ve had a ridiculous meltdown towards the end of the work day.
Undisputed culprit: work burnout!
However, few good things happened too within this lockdown timeline from March 24th, 2020 to today.
Dee received a $20 bill with this heart warming note. We both agree, it’s worth more than any quantifiable shit.
Sheep-bro (admin.war in the picture) successfully built & deployed to UAT server. at 20:59PM.
My best friend,Manish Rajbhandari finally became a father of a very beautiful daughter. He’d describe his fatherhood experience (in his words)‘I don’t think I have cried that much in long long time. It was very very hard to see her go through that yaar‘. Such a pure, elemental form of love there, I reckon.
March 11, 2020 – Susan Mool Weds Ashmita Bajracharya.
As she entered the ceremonial hall, slowly, carefully, perhaps p.a.i.n.f.u.l.l.y too; Ashmita to me — already seem heartfully full, hurt, cold feet, U.P.S.E.T!
Why?
Because, on that beautiful morning of 11th March 2020, somebody had purposefully, wrongly, unjustly, succeedingly, fucked up her brain. It’s only later we’d know that — this some-fucking-body had deliberately fudged her & her own with ridiculous, misleading information.
What a Fish!
However, however.
Despite an inevitable circus drumming inside her heart; she had fabricated every inch of her wretched self with such a spellbinding, such a F.U.C.K.I.N.G cool calm balanced with a sufficient stroke of mandatory shyness.
[Oh, … my heart silently, cheerfully, warmly applauded her for thy COMPOSURE and thy COURAGE!]
Nonetheless, as time melted, she glew more. Undeterred, she rose from the dirt. She’d smile all to often. She laughed. She’d become. She was happy. She was beautiful!
It was her March of 11th.
The groom (or mooley) from the beginning of mess-osses, and throughout his wedding procession, was surprisingly relaxed. Or, for better lack of word, I’d say Concerned, inside but Chilled outside !!
Plus, more to my awe, he was doing all the right s.h.i.t.s expected of any groom in a conventional marriage scene.
Be it homogeneously blending-in with photographer(s) requests for weird wedding photograph poses. Be it following up with awkward Namastés and forced-upon selfies and redundant groupies. Or, be it by simply being gentle. Mildly, wildly happy! Oh, and utterly respectful and Holy Fucking Obedient too!
[He was A Man of The Hour. And sure as fuck, he was SO!]
