Ah, Is It That Time Already?

The first fortnight of 2022 is officially over. It’s been one of the most eventful beginnings of a Gregorian New Year in my life. I’ve driven over 450 km, walked over 50 km, run about 21 km and have had countless realisations since the year started. One of them, possibly the most important, was that I don’t need to make any resolutions this time around.

Currently tucked into a quiet corner of South Goa, I’m reminded of the famous line from Go Goa Gone – “‘What do we know, what have we learnt?’ ‘We know nothing and we have learnt ghanta.'” I do believe that most, if not all of us are prone to falling into the same patterns if we don’t keep disciplining ourselves constantly. And that, of course, is exhausting. But is it also rewarding? I’d like to think so. The pandemic years have been instrumental in making me realise what’s important, and I like to believe I’ve used these years somewhat wisely. The first pandemic year drove me to explore my interest in music and design more seriously, while the encore in 2021 led me to work on my physical health. I was inspired in no small part by Alison Bechdel’s ‘The Secret to Superhuman Strength’, a must-read for anyone like me who has questioned the existential raison d’exercise.

After a few months of jogging last year, I’d decided to take the plunge and showed up at the gym in my apartment. For additional motivation (and because I didn’t know what the alien contraptions in the gym were for), I signed on with a personal trainer. I won’t lie, after the first two sessions which left my body feeling like a tightly-wrung dirt rag, I was tempted to call it quits and go back to my leisurely jogs, where I’d be in control of how much pain I wanted to put my heart and bones through. Nevertheless, I kept it up, thanks in part to my overinflated ego and obsessive nature. Even though my belly fat didn’t disappear in a week like I’d wished it would, I started feeling better about my physical self, and began to appreciate the subtle wonders of the human body. For the longest time, I have loathed my body and considered my mind to be my only worthy feature, which led me to disregard the former and put all my energies into the latter. I’m sure this has been instrumental in all the issues I’ve had in my relationships so far, along with my general tendency to self-sabotage. Gaining this insight into myself has also helped me to curb some destructive patterns over the last few months.

Just when I was getting into the swing of strenuous daily exercise, I caught COVID. Thankfully I had already had my first shot, and it was much after the panic-filled months of April and May when medicines were in rare supply. I recovered fairly quickly and painlessly at home, and we had a long-awaited family reunion thanks to the extra help needed by Ma. However, I was shocked by how much my stamina had degenerated after my dance with the virus. I was barely able to walk 2 km without getting all winded. I couldn’t let my hard-earned progress go to waste, so I returned to my gym just as soon as I felt I wouldn’t collapse after a set of squats. COVID helped me realise how much I now valued my physical well-being. As soon as I returned to Bangalore, I signed up at my local gym and found an experienced trainer, who seemed less intent on setting my muscles on fire during every session.

On the professional front, I have yet to figure out what I really want to do. Last year I dallied with front-end development, database architecture, and a host of other technical skills that I didn’t possess, in a team that I most definitely didn’t feel qualified to be in. But for some reason people keep giving me the thumbs-up even though I have no idea what I’m doing half the time. I’ve also gotten somewhat addicted to doing courses online, to the point where it’s become a running gag for my peers on LinkedIn that I’d turn up at least once a month to post a completion certificate for something. I suppose some addictions are less harmful than others.

If there was something that I ended up doing a lot less of last year, it’s probably reading and writing. But that’s okay (you hear me, productivity-obsessed brain?). There’s only so much one can do. If I had a new years’ resolution, it would probably be around becoming more disciplined and engaged so I can be in every moment more and stop being anxious about what I’m potentially missing out on. That way, I could take up a few more things and not go into a faint at the end of each month, exchanging memes about the hasty passing of time. That’s another thing I’ve realised, as I turn a nice round age of 30 this year. So much of my mental energy is spent on planning for the immediate future, that I often miss out on making lasting memories in the present. Being present, being empathetic, being open, being free. This year I’d like to just be.