Tag: life

In search of utopia

I always choose comfort first—in attire, in stance, and even in the company I keep. And when it comes to my everyday life, I don’t have many surprises. My day begins the same way every day and ends in the same way. Throughout each day, I focus on things that matter most to me—tasks I enjoy, tasks I’d be willing to repeat.

As a result, I’ve grown comfortable with a certain lifestyle. It’s my zone, my happy place, and I don’t appreciate disturbances in that.

As attractive as it sounds, there’s also the risk of becoming too comfortable. I realised this while replying on a Twitter chat. Sometimes we get so accustomed to what makes us happy, like certain choices and routines that we’d rather not break out of. Most often than not, that’s because we prefer to be happy with whatever we like instead of putting ourselves out there and exploring new opportunities.

That’s how we let great opportunities slip through our fingers. Even if we realise that a new choice or a new job offers more potential for growth, we still choose to stay where we are… because that’s the easier option. And the longer we train our minds to satisfy itself with whatever—little or much—it possesses, the harder it becomes for us to venture into newer experiences. As the combination of fear and laziness builds up, inertia creeps up on us even before we know it.

As our fear to try out new things increases, we begin to focus more on the task at hand rather than the purpose of it. We care more about completing the routine than about the satisfaction it brings us. We start to define our self-worth based on the destination rather than the journey. That’s when routines become lethal. When our journey lacks passion, our life lacks soul, too. We become afraid of unfamiliarity, associating it with discomfort. We hesitate to make decisions, and douse in doubt even when we do. And with doubt tags along the inability to forgive ourselves for our mistakes and accept embarrassment.

And all of a sudden, what once was comfortable would’ve reduced us to nothing but scrawny scared cats. Staying in the comfort zone is as handling a two-sided sword. We just have to find the right balance.

Unaffection

Nothing could hinder her way anymore. She’d been patient, she’d done her time. With destiny awaiting, she was now all ready to unleash her soul.

Walking away from her home of four years, Karla shed her graduation robe while her classmates posed for another groupfie. They were welling up vouching they’d forever miss the good old days.

Karla never looked back. She neither teared nor cared. Their affection remained a puzzle to her—she knew the reality: people forget. While they celebrated their collective achievement, she set out to celebrate freedom.

“Finish your degree first,” her parents had challenged.

A moment to cherish

You don’t need a fancy living to feel good about yourself. A quiet afternoon with a beloved companion is more than enough. This bundle of compassion lives with a friend who was my host when I visited Seattle last year. Ever-bounding with enthusiasm, this was her rare peaceful moment. Looking back, she’s still one of my beloved memories of the trip.

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Chit chatting away

I’m not what people call the social kind. I’m more of a…

…selective-social introvert.

It means I don’t like going out in large parties, or to large parties.

It means I’m uncomfortable with more than three people in a group.

It means I prefer being alone in my room than being lonesome in a crowd.

Most of all, I don’t mind people knowing that I’m not a people-person.

As a result, I stayed away from social media, too. I’d always found it too noisy, too spontaneous, and too narcissistic. Until I discovered Twitter chats.

I’d signed up for Twitter six years ago, but for more than five years, I made only feeble attempts at understanding how it works. And then one day, I had to analyse and evaluate Twitter for my work. As I combed through their documentation and scanned popular accounts, I discovered the wonder that is Twitter chats.

It seemed promising — a closed group of people discussing issues that mattered to them. That seemed like a purposeful way to spend time on social media, unlike the posting of selfies and sharing of love-struck statuses my friends did.

Though not all together certain, I joined my first chat. The sheer number of people who contributed to the conversation surprised me. As soon as the first question came on, a bunch of people replied in kind. Funny, enthusiastic, helpful, share-worthy responses piled up. As I read through them, I realised I could contribute something as well. I had a point that no one else had mentioned yet, and I felt an irksome desire to say it out. After all, these were people in my industry speaking their own experiences. It’s fair for me to do the same.

And I typed out my perspective. Within seconds people liked and retweeted my tweet. They replied, they agreed, and some even followed up with questions. The more I shared my ideas, the more conversation I generated. I realised I knew stuff that people thought were valuable. I knew tricks of the trade I didn’t know I knew. It was exciting. Twitter was exciting for the first time in five years! Social media, for once, was social to me.

That chat hooked me right in. From that day forward, I try my best to make it every time the chat happens. Every week, more and more people join in. But I never feel the crowd bearing on my shoulders. Instead, it’s fun to have more people in the discussion. Sure, sometimes my feed floods with hundreds of tweets even before I can read a handful of replies and answer a question, but it’s still useful, engaging, and welcoming as ever.

What began at one chat transcended beyond the one. When I began to participate in many chats, I realised there were others who showed up for particular chats every week. I started to see familiar faces, and I started making friends.

I’d become social. At least on social media.

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Do you hang around Twitter chats? How do you like it? If you’re interested, come say hello @s_narmadhaa.