Going back to my diary, to pen down down my gratitude for this time.
Few days ago, facebook displayed the reel of year 2017 on my timeline. It was my whole of 2017 in the light of innumerous updates and uploads that I had done in this year. This memory reel however took me to an old piece, saved in my diary that I wrote at the beginning of 2017. At twenty six, as it is called, it took me back to time which doesn’t feel very far and yet feels like a lot has evolved since then. I now look back at my twenty seven, only to see how far I have made it this year.
New Year resolutions and growing a year older almost comes hand in hand for me. I am one of those who pledges unreasonably on birthdays only to feel guilty about not keeping it by the next. Thankfully, 2017 was different; perhaps, because of the unique resolution that I found for myself. But, in other words, it was not only the resolution but also many other variables of triumph and failures that kept me going this year.
At twenty seven, I succumbed to the pressure of registering with instagram community, not realizing whether I will consume social media or will the social media consume me. At twenty seven, I pledged to travel more than what I had already been doing. I resolved to do at least one facebook check in every month from a different part of the earth. And I did it. I took journeys that were sometimes long and boring, sometimes they were ugly too but then there were also some which were extraordinarily rewarding. There was none which was not an experience.
At twenty seven, I was determined & confused at the same time. Determined to take life as it comes & confused about where my life was heading. There were slow realizations about how money completes the circle of life. There was a constant search for stability in thoughts. Movement was making me realize it even more and gradually it was also the movement that was becoming a deterrent to it. Duality always kept haunting me but it also made me bold. Bold enough to take decisions. At twenty seven, I decided to go back to my corporate career, go back to doing what I was good at and still be doing what I enjoyed doing the most – yoga!
At twenty seven, I realized that if I don’t have enough money, my travel plans will suffocate and lead to a slow death. I wasn’t ready for that. But I wasn’t ready for materialism either. And so, at twenty seven, I was experiencing life first hand. Joblessness taught me the value of my work; traveling taught me the outreach of my desires and yoga taught me the state of my thoughts.
My practice of yoga tried its best to keep me sane & sober. At twenty seven, my fitness schedule was my only constant in life. I religiously built up my strength to chase my next Himalayan goal, climb to the next altitude. At twenty seven, I touched 15,380 ft at the Rupin Pass. I was traversing bridges that led from one state to another, passed three different districts and interacted with three unique cultures within these mountain ranges. I was meditating on this long journey in my Himalayan abode. I was breaking old friendships and making new friendships; discovering that these friendships are journeys too. They come & go, make us strong, agile & receptive beyond our capacity. At twenty seven, I was reassuring myself, while the old ones might not need me anymore; the new ones have so much to share and yet there were some bonds that were growing stronger than before.
Travel bloomed all those wonderful stories into conversations & let my energy flow like a river. At twenty seven, I was unfurling new playlists, reconnecting with the magic of stars in this universe, trying to understand some fantasy fiction writers and also revisiting the Osho philosophy. There were new stories being created with great momentum.
While my facebook timeline was brimming with marriage updates of my peers, I was still limiting it to my travel updates. At twenty seven, I wasn’t getting married. In fact, I was moving cities. I moved to Bangalore as new opportunities knocked and I found my way to rediscover the South. This new kind of freedom movement gave a huge kick to my OCD of planning trips. The one that took up a lot of my mind space, it was growing stronger than ever, more so like an addiction giving me a natural high, extracting so much of my mental energy and yet giving me pleasure. It reached its tipping point towards the end of the year, when I was planning multiple trips simultaneously, only in the hope that at least one will be executed. And guess what, it always did. With my thoughts about my resolution going stronger, I was ticking some serious ‘before 30’ goals off my bucket list. At twenty seven, my passion passport looked glorious.
While there were a lot of good energies, there were also failures. I wasn’t writing or reading enough. I didn’t attend any live music concert. I attempted a content writing job with a fitness start-up & failed to enjoy it. I was rejecting boys and boys were rejecting me. The commitment & discipline that I hoped for was rather overridden by new age distractions and a lot of noisy thinking. At twenty seven, confusion still prevailed.
I looked back at twenty six and felt strong about myself. I wasn’t anxious, rather I felt empowered. At twenty seven, my independence became my first love. My heart was full of gratitude towards everything that I accomplished. I was thankful for all the kind words that I heard for myself this year. I was learning to prioritize the good, recede the bad and drop off the ugly. At twenty seven, I was balancing the dreamy me with the realistic me. I was decoding my own secrets, talking more to myself and learning to smile when it was expected the least. At twenty seven, I remember, I was a very happy girl.