Spotting Shadows

What I am and how I relate to others, is a matter of concern for those who rub shoulders with me on a regular basis, and there are times when they find it hard to put up with me, and I can make out how hard it is for them to really accept what I really am. When they think that I am a free man, they could make out a thin shadow following me everywhere I go, and it is hard for me to really free myself from the shadows. The fact is that most often I have been blissfully unaware of the shadow which had become a constant companion in life, and today I had made an attempt to unravel the mystery of this shadow and to incorporate it with my true self.

It is not easy to embrace the shadow, because the shadow contains part of myself which I had been trying to hide all the time from others; the bitter past experiences, persons who had left an indelible mark in my memory, more often negatively than positively, phantoms which had become part of my second nature and would not depart from me, and today I have decided to name the shadows and call them one by one to have an intimate time with them. I know this may not be the last time I would meet them; though I would very much like them to leave me for good, and yet I know for sure that they may take some time to leave me in peace.

It might be wrong to assume that all the shadows I have inherited are the works of my own creation or imagination; some of them have been inherited from my parents, my identity in society, the socio-cultural milieu in which I was born and grew into adulthood; some of the shadows have been imposed onto me by others in society, and I had been collecting them like a little child innocently collecting shells from the beach, and I had been giving shape to some of them as I grew into adulthood, and began to realize my dreams and aspirations; when my attempts to realize my dreams failed to take shape, I had taken shelter under the watchful care of my shadows.

I know that I had to recognize the shadows which accompany me, and give them a fitting farewell from my life at some time or other, but it is not that easy to do it. There are still certain areas in life, where I feel weak and fragile, and if I were to face failure or humiliation, challenges too big for me to face, where could I take shelter. It would be hard for me to say how long I would have to need them, but I can live an authentic life only when the shadows are gone. So long the shadows protect me from facing real problems and challenges, I am not living an authentic life, I always find a pseudo self which bears all the blame and excuses.

The false selfhood in each one of us expresses itself in defense mechanism, areas where I feel incompetent but am challenged to prove myself, where I find it hard to accept the so-called ugliness of my true self, and this is a process which begins at the moment when we are first challenged by society, which expects from us, something different from what we enter the world with. The shadows will be prepared to part with me, but it is I who feel reluctant to say goodbye to them. Today I wish to take a good look at my true, authentic self, and accept me as I am, so that I would have the courage to bid farewell to my assumed self. I believe after some days I would be able to smile at my shadows and tell them to part from me for good.

Addressing Authenticity

There is an uneasy feeling lurking within me for quite sometime, and it is not easy for me to articulate what this feeling is, and how it is affecting me deeply and significantly. It is like a shroud blocking my vision of self, the world around and God. One thing is sure, it is to do with authenticity! How am I true to myself, the image I frantically try to project before the world? As I struggle to unmask myself from the multi-layered masks, I am frightened to encounter more masks than I imagined.

I cannot think of living in an unauthentic life, and I detest duplicity. While I can swear by my so-called authenticity, more than the people I live with, I know more fully how miserably I fail in my attempts to live an authentic life. It is not that living an authentic life is altogether alien to me; I was fortunate to taste what it means to live an authentic and sincere life at least a few times in the past, though even before I began to taste the serenity of it, my mind was clouded by inauthentic thoughts.

I am quite quick in noticing inauthenticity in others, especially in the very people I am to rub shoulder with each day, but I dare not raise this issue with them, lest they unrobe me, and expose the ugly self I frantically try to hide beneath my pseudo-authenticity. It is only a thief who can identify another thief, says an old adage in my tongue, and I do realize the adage is not wrong or untrue. Again it would be wrong for me to claim that I had been living in a fool’s paradise all these years, holding tightly to an holier-than-thou-art attitude!

But what has triggered this sense of insecurity and inadequacy in the recent days? I had been hearing, reading about so many holy men and women, whose sanctity was so well-known to the world, even when they spoke not a world. There was always a spiritual aura around them, and simple people could vibrate with their spiritual self and physical reality effortlessly. I wish to ask myself why is it I do not radiate such a kind of spiritual aura? I know the diamond is there deep within me, but its radiance is clouded by my insecurity and duplicity.

It is not impossible for me to get rid of all the masks which hide my true identity – even if it is so horrifying to some people; but if I try to do that, it is sure to cost me a good deal. I may have to get out of my self-centeredness and the indomitable desire to build a kingdom of my own. There is a joy in building my dream-place brick by brick, and ultimately it may not make me happy. If I am not prepared to abandon this dream project, then there is no way how I can free myself from the masks which I had covered my true self with. But I know I have to start this process today or tomorrow, and cannot wait for the beginning endlessly.

When Work is Worship…

Someone had said, work is worship, and I would add another word at the end of this much used-abused adage : sometimes. That is, work is worship sometimes; but it would be quite erroneous to think that all the time, work can be considered something holy and sacred. After going through three marathon sessions of meetings, each time lasting for about three and half hours, I feel such “work” if I may say so, is far from worship. To put it in other words, what is reasonable and normal, may become something sacred, provided it is carried out with a proper framework of mind. In fact, no work can automatically become holy and sacred unless the “worker” makes a conscious and conscientious effort to make it so. Maybe someone may think that if he/she is a non-believer, how the work can become something holy, since he/she does not believe in the very concept of the sacred. Here we have to expand the meaning of holiness or sacredness that we are used to, in order to include certain amount of authenticity and genuineness to the work being accomplished.

But there are works which are killing and sucking the life energy of people. Generally it is understood that the manual labor is very tiring, slowly draining all the energy of the workers, but we should also realize that sometimes mental works can also be equally killing. We also often hear about the dignity of labor and May first is celebrated all over the world with aplomb, especially by the Marxists, in order to uphold the philosophy that the world belongs to the laborers. Work in order to earn a living is not sufficient in order to make it holy and sacred; we need to go beyond the mere subsistence providing labor. Work can become noble and sacred only when we begin to enjoy the labor, irrespective of the fruits it may produce. It is in other words an art, which comes so very naturally to us.

I would be a laughing stock if I were to suggest this to a villager, who has to work all the daylong in order to earn his daily bread. If he does not work on a particular day, he may starve, or may go to bed with half-stomach. Is it ever possible that this person one day begins to enjoy the work he does, just like an artist is immersed in the painting he/she does, or the singer lost in the world of music? Unfortunately we are involved in so many kinds of works, where drawing enjoyment is a remote possibility. A man exposed to the hot sun throughout the day, cannot enjoy his work; all that he might enjoy is the shade of a tree and a mug of rice soaked in water.

While a good majority of the population may never begin to enjoy their work, a small per centage of the people would take great pleasure in the work they are involved with, even if it is manual labor, and involving a lot of painstaking physical work. For such people, the fruits of the work or the consequence is only secondary; what they are interested in is the sheer joy of getting immersed in the work. Even if the manager were to say that there was not enough money to give his wages, he would still offer his services, because there is a pleasure he might draw from the work, which he cannot get from anything else, not even a peg of beer, or a mug of country liquor.

I would not hesitate to equate the real joy that we may be able to draw from the work we may be involved in, with ananda, the sheer bliss; the formless, nameless joy. It is very much possible for us to enter into such a state of bliss, even if it is for a moment. In fact, it would be hard to sustain such joy and bliss for a long stretch of time; however the joy that we may gain out of the job or work may be able to sustain us for a long time, even after we have shifted gears to some other work, or chores. Therefore today I pause for a moment, in the middle of the work I am busy with… and ask myself how do I feel as I mechanically do this job! Am I cursing my fate for doing such a job, or am I happy to do this? I am happy to do this job, is it because I have to do it, or because I enjoy doing it? Those who enjoy doing their job may not look at their watches five times in fifteen minutes, and they often would realize that the time has passed away too soon. That is the true mark of making our work holy and sacred. If I have a tendency to check the clock too often, to see how soon I would get out of this place, then I need to realize that my work is far from being holy and sacred. And the more I feel the work as a burden, it will keep increasing, until I become too tired of it, and look for alternatives. If I enjoy the work, then there is nothing I should want!