How to catch a break.
Tags: Lifestyle, Productivity, Time Management, Breakups

Like everything, I have mostly ever written with passionate intensity. This too comes from a place of absolute exhaustion and unabashed cribbing.

Stop telling people they don’t deserve a time off. Stop shaming people for needing to clear their head, wash off their old jobs or even take time to think about how they’ll redirect themselves.

I for one think it takes immense courage. To deep dive and swim backwards against the tide of corporate manufactured, fish market of a race to see who can die with the most money and deny the trauma of a life they’re living. Stop.

If you have missed it. We’re living in a fucking world shutdown. People died, people are dying, loved ones are lost, no one in their lifetime in the last frigging one hundred years has witnessed this amount of suffering in such a short span of time.



Now that, that’s out of the way. Here’s a little thing that happened today.

I was alone with my thoughts for 10 mins at most I kid you not. The internet was gone- besides the point. But it was an absolute sob fest. The same old what am I doing with my life breakdown, you know?

Now, I consider myself to be extremely happy, as a person. Who let’s go too easily, doesn’t dwell too much into everything minus the overthinking but nothing a little 8-hour nap can’t fix, or a binge-fest, or 9 piece chicken nuggets.



And then it struck me. That’s the problem.



In the last freaking year, all I have done is, everything in my power to not be left alone with my thoughts. To not sit and ask me “How the fuck are you?”. The binging eating or shows, working out religiously like never before, waking up to a screen staying up late even if I am in bed by 11, working tirelessly, internships or jobs, talking senseless bullshit for hours is just a hoax to let time go by until it’s time to sleep again. That’s when it’s best.



I haven’t been quiet for a year.



My mind has been screaming tunes, show dialogues, books to read, to-do lists and crib sessions for so long. I don’t know how to sit with myself anymore.



Not having a phone to fidget with isn’t much of a problem I have managed to go a couple of days without it. But something is always there that’s more pressing than me knowing what I want, how I am doing, or how I am feeling.



Maybe because I already know it’s something I wouldn’t want to hear. It’s a difficult conversation. Finding out what you want. Committing to it. Feeling better.



We can get used to feeling uneasy. Keeps us on the edge of our seats. Like we did as children. It wasn’t because our legs couldn’t touch the ground or sitting back on the chair wouldn’t be comfortable. We’re programmed to feel uneasy at all times. If you’re not uncomfortable you’re not growing. If you’re the smartest in the room you’re in the wrong room. If you take a break, you’re lazy.



Self-help books feed more bullshit than anyone alive. They’re cowards and if you agree with them you are a coward, just like me. Unable to take a break. Working your mind blank even when you’re supposedly ‘free’. If you don’t listen to the noise your mind makes one day it will stop coming at you. It won’t.



I am proud of the people I know who sat down with themselves, meditated, ran for miles, sipped chai’s for hours on balconies, quit miserable jobs with people who made them miserable, figured out what they want and went after it headstrong, unstoppable. I aspire to be like you and don’t for a second let anyone tell you otherwise.

I read somewhere you don’t know what you want because you don’t sit with yourself, and it has been ringing in my head like an aftermath of a slap. Because the person I spend the most time with is myself. It doesn’t make sense.



But it does.

When was the last time you were alone, quiet, with yourself, hearing your thoughts? I know they say terrible things sometimes. Sometimes true, sometimes scarily untrue trying so hard to grab your attention like a diva throwing a tantrum. You must give it time, nurture it, pay attention. Avoiding it makes it worse, makes it louder, meaner. You’ll suddenly remember 100 things to do. Dishes to clean, mails to read, pages to check, messages to reply to, calls to make. But it will be worth it. Start small 5 mins a day, add 5 minutes more every day. You out of all people deserve your own time.



Netflix can wait, I promise.

As for this painting — Christina’s World by American painter Andrew Wyeth. It eerily resonates with slight helplessness I feel. This woman was supposed to be paralysed, unable to go back home. Crawling through the backyard/ front yard. I don’t know American terms don’t ask me. Metaphorically being able to relate also makes my heartache. You can’t see her face. But you know it’s painful. Feeling stranded, unable to help yourself, unwilling to ask for help.

The painter drew her as he watched his neighbour crawl from the window. I can’t believe he chooses to draw her instead of running to help her. I would like to imagine she was a really badass woman who refused to be treated like a child. But I am not going to make excuses for artists who choose their art over basic humanity, but that’s a conversation for another crib session.

There is no underlying deep layered message here. Stop glorifying not taking breaks. That’s all folks.