Starting from scratch
There’s something romantic and idealistic about the thought of starting from scratch. Going back to the drawing board to reimagine what you could look like, what you could BE. A new persona, an opportunity to abandon old patterns that don’t serve you well anymore, time to try new out new skills — a new language perhaps, read new genres of books, try out new fashion looks, seek out friends that are not your norm … sounds exciting no?
I have always been a firm believer that periods of transition provide the best opportunities for personal growth. Transition could mean anything from relocating to a new country to readjusting to a new way of living that comes with a change of job or perhaps life stage. These experiences take you out of your comfort zone and reveal parts of yourself that you had forgotten existed or never knew existed. You could be gently nudged towards change or be violently flung towards it — in whatever form change happens to you, it is never easy. Navigating change is something that I am slowly becoming intimately familiar with, more so with the multiple transitions that have accompanied our relocation to Dubai.
I often find myself seeking out these opportunities for change, like a moth drawn to the flame. Change and stability are 2 sides of the same coin and whenever I get too comfortable, that familiar itch for change creeps in and vice versa with my longing for stability and rootedness amidst change. It creeps in insidiously, with thoughts that start with “what if…”. What if we move countries? What if I write in to this job opportunity that I know nothing about? What if I quit this job that I am relatively good at? Change starts small in our minds with these innocent thought bubbles that eventually gain energy, the more we feed it with our ideas of an reimagined possibility. I knew that I wanted to do something different in Dubai. I knew that I had to make my time here count. I had no clue what this would look like just about a year ago. They were just figments of my imagination of a life that I had no reference point to draw from. The only thing I had within my control was what I decided to put out to the universe — which was to be “intentionally uncomfortable”.
I could write another long post about all the uncomfortable scenarios that I have found myself in over the past year. I have squirmed in my seat at a writer’s course (meant for budding/published writers) wondering what in the *bleep world I was doing there. I have exposed my fears (and very raw written work) to a group of writers to critique. Whilst I seemed composed on the surface, my ego and my work took quite a beating, after a couple of those sessions. I have signed up for networking events where all I wanted to do was hide at the back of the room than to make small talk with strangers. I have sat in conversations with people in the business world and felt like they were speaking alien language — whilst attempting miserably to appear smart and engaged with intermittent nodding and appropriate laughter. I decided that I would learn a new language and skill and enrolled into Arabic and Carnatic (South Indian Classical) vocal lessons. I attend those classes with peers significantly younger than myself and often watch with envy as their young pliable minds pick up new concepts at a pace that I struggle to catch up with. I recall being a smart student once upon a time, but that distant memory is fast replaced with a student who is NOT the teacher’s pet. I recently decided to intern at a fashion label — an industry that I am clueless about — just because I thought it would give me an insight into growing a brand and also because the founder is someone I have huge admiration and respect for. I recall supervising interns as a senior social worker, and now I am “that” over enthused intern who’s making blunders on her first week and constantly trying not to screw up. You get the drift.
I am definitely in a VERY uncomfortable space right now. If I may impart some very constipated pearls of wisdom from this discomfort:
- Feeling stupid is a good thing.
Whenever I do something that has crushed my fragile ego (these things happen more frequently especially when you are out of your comfort zone),
I remind myself that mistakes are a blessing (after wallowing in self pity).
They are life’s way of making me slow down and pause at blind spots. When we operate on ‘auto pilot’ mode, information, facts and processes zoom right by us. We feel secure on false grounds just because we seem productive and efficient. Speed seems to be the celebrated benchmark to get things done. Mistakes expose the cracks in the system that you have formed for yourself. You could choose to ignore them and continue chugging ahead, or you could slow down, take the hit and reflect on it.
I am beginning to see a pattern in the things I feel stupid about. I feel stupid about missing details. I feel stupid about forgetting things I should not. I feel stupid about feeling stupid. It’s a self fulfilling rut really, a rut that being stuck in shame puts you in. And so I am beginning to consciously reframe mistakes as wonderful speed breakers. Necessary whilst painful.
2. We are married to the idea of who we think we are.
I think we often have certain ideas of who we are and get married to those ideas over time. The older we get, the more we think we have figured ourselves out, and so the less we are willing to be open to experiences that we think we are not suited for. I never thought that I would be open to learning more about the business world and frankly was quite happy being positioned in the non profit sector. I unconsciously filtered out information from others pertaining to finance, business, marketing etc, thinking it was never going to be relevant. But over time, the more I found myself feeling like an outsider to conversations (thanks to dear husband and his line of work), a shift happened. I began to entertain the possibility of a ‘me’ that could encompass more than what I was used to having a natural inclination for.
I think once we abandon the notion that we have fixed personalities and embrace fluidity with preferences, interests and even goals, life gets a lot more interesting. While it is only human to gravitate towards what makes us feel good, we have to work harder at going against the grain and embrace what does not make us feel good. Only then do we uncover aspects of ourselves that would have otherwise remained dormant.
3) Never burn bridges. You never know who or what you might need.
Our experiences are interconnected as random as they might seem on the surface. We say goodbye to friendships, phases in our lives, to our job designations … but they never truly die. I am beginning to appreciate the beauty of synchronicity with every opportunity that comes my way.
Who knew that I needed to tap into relationships that I forged whilst in New York for access into opportunities that I needed here in Dubai?
We might not know when our destinies might be intertwined again and so be kind to everyone — not just to the people you see an immediate need for. Leave no relationships on vague and hazy terms just because they do not serve a purpose any longer — always be transparent about the relationship you are invested in and your commitment to it. I have learnt this the hard way with a particularly painful break up with my first job and I carry that shadow with me till today.
The same applies to ideas. Like relationships, never burn bridges with ideas.
I see how ideas which never grow into the reality they were meant to live in get recycled back into my life in another shape or form. I just have to be astute enough to recognise the circularity of patterns with ideas that I draw to myself and not get too dejected and caught up on failed projects.
4) We all need lifelines. Different ones.
Sugu (it’s weird to keep referring to him as the husband) is an obvious lifeline. He’s also the biggest reason for me doing half the things I am doing. If you talk to him, he would say that I can still do much more. That I could sign up for that diving course he’s been egging me to, that I could donate blood, sky dive… Forget it. Please don’t talk to him. It helps to have that one person in your corner who’s constantly pushing you towards greater things (even if they don’t seem that great at first). As much as I am thankful for him, I think we need a variety of lifelines to adequately thrive in change.
I recall friends who have known me at varying points of my life express their love and support when I wasn’t quite sure of what I was doing. Sometimes lifelines may not even be friends. They may come in the form of a passing remark from an acquaintance or words from a page of a book. You just have to be willing to be vulnerable to put your fears out there, to be strong enough to accept affirmations as reflections of you, even if you don’t feel your best and to have the wisdom to identify signs when they come to you.
Change and stability. Building up and breaking down. These opposite forces cannot exist without the other. I still resist change in many ways for a lot of things and would stubbornly hold my ground whenever anyone tries to convince me otherwise. BUT in the times that I have made a choice to be open to the unknown and the discomfort it brings, I have always been rewarded with growth. The experiences may not all be romantic and definitely are far from being idealistic, but it is growth nonetheless and that trumps any fleeting feelings of comfort or happiness.
