Refreshing
I don’t consider myself a workaholic. I never have, and it’s not something I’ve ever aspired to, despite our cultural pressures, and despite the hustle culture of New York City. In fact, I’ve long taken pride in my ability to find balance and peace, even in the midst of chaos. My north star has been the lotus flower, which is celebrated so often in South Asian and Sikh literature, for its ability to flourish, even when surrounded by muck.
I’ve loved this metaphor, and I’m always so touched when I encounter lotus flowers blooming, as I did this past week in a Portuguese garden. How do they maintain themselves, how do they achieve their potential, despite the influence of their surroundings?
I’m ready to share something that’s challenged me for the past couple of years, something that I’ve only begun to admit to myself. While it’s true that there have been times in my life where balance has been a strength, the last couple of years have not been that. My workload has taken far too much of my daily life, and while I love what I do for work—writing, teaching, traveling, speaking—I also love the things I don’t do for work—family, exercise, spirituality, reading.
While I didn’t sacrifice everything the past couple of years, and while I feel proud of my ability to prioritize what matters most to me during this period, I also know that I needed to make time for what I was deprioritizing: primarily my own health, physical, spiritual, and relational. To say it more directly, I was making decisions every day to ensure I saw through my professional commitments and that I spent time with my family—but that’s all I could really manage. And even then, I was going to bed late and waking up early, just to get through all of that.
It was clear I couldn’t continue in this way, and I’m proud of myself for making the difficult decision to change my commitments. I’m also grateful for my family in supporting me through this process, especially my wife Gunisha, who helped recognize, articulate, think through, and enable these changes. None of this would be possible without her.
And now, here I am, feeling like I’m starting the journey fresh, as if someone hit the refresh button, and is giving me a reboot. I feel excited about this new start, and nervous about it, too.
Why the nerves? Well, after two weeks of an incredible family vacation in Portugal and the Azores, on our way back to the US as I write, I’m noticing my psyche returning to the same place, too: There’s too much to do, and not enough time. I need to put my work above my own needs. I just have to make it through each day.
The whole point of the refresh is to not have to live like that, to create conditions where I can enjoy this amazing life that I’ve been given. I can still be ambitious and aim to serve people, but how do I ensure that I not fall into the same mental trap that I’m trying to escape? I can feel myself being drawn into them, and I know that I’m susceptible to them, just like everyone else is.
I used to think it was for me to figure out on my own, that like the lotus flower, I just had to have enough clarity of purpose and self-determination to overlook the influences around me and find my own balance. Now, I realize that while the lotus flower is noticeable because it stands apart from the visible influences around it, the lotus flower still relies on its ecosystem for sustenance and support. Where would it be without water? Or nourishment? Or pollination?
This observation has sparked a new question: In my pursuit to become like a lotus flower, what is my system of sustenance and support and nourishment?
For the past 16 years, Gunisha has been the biggest answer to this question. My parents have been, too, as have many family members and friends. What I’m realizing now, is that we all have so many more nodes in our ecosystem than we realize. So much lies under the surface. So much is unexplored.
I’m committing to a refresh, one where I can regain the balance in my life, and recenter myself. Gunisha is my partner in this, and our little family is the nucleus. I also see this community of readers as part of my ecosystem, composed of friends, family, and so much more.
By sharing this, I’m giving you a glimpse into my own life and something I’m struggling through, with an invitation in holding me accountable to this new commitment. I’m also hoping that it might spark some self-reflection for you as wel: on your balance or lack thereof, on your aspirations and your ecosystem, on who and what is there to support you, even if (and maybe even especially if) you might take them for granted.
**Typically, when I share challenges, I speak in the past tense. It’s more comfortable to feel like I’ve worked through some answers, even if they reveal more imperfections, past and present. It’s not often I share something that I’m actively working through. Thanks for your ongoing support; it’s a seed that is blossoming into trust.**
We are one.
Years ago I woke overwhelmed with all the responsibilities I had taken on in church I had recently joined. As I lay slowly returning to the waking world God slipped a thought into my mind. “If I were to die today, St Dunstan’s would get along fine without me”.
Those words have helped to remember not to take myself too seriously.