I remember in kindergarten my teacher taught me to be kind to others, always say nice things, and never lie. As I get older I realize that the lies that we tell people are colorless compared to the lies we tell ourselves. It's very important to be honest to yourself. I don't believe being honest is always right. Most of the time people do not want to hear your truths. They are more comfortable with your neutral white lies. Therefore it's most important to be honest with yourself in your moments of silence. These moments of truth will define who you are and what you stand for...
Sunday, March 30, 2008
The Virtue of Silence
Silence has always been the most honest sound to me. I grew up in a household of nine people. There was always lots of excitement, laughter, voices, noise, music... silence was almost impossible to find. But I would always find it, right before I went to sleep... fifteen to twenty minutes of utter silence. In those precious minutes before I went to sleep I would really know who was. It's very easy to lose yourself in the sounds the surround you. Your family's chatter can easily be mistaken as your own. When there is no sound, the only chatter that you hear is what's inside your head and your heart. You can be very true to yourself. Your honesty can get lost in your social obligations.
Sunday, March 23, 2008
The Dreams of our Fathers
A Father is an integral part of any family. In my family, my Father was my hero and the authoritative force in the household. He had rules and regulations that were never broken, in fears of punishment. His rule was with an iron fist. When I was young I was so enamored by his stories of India and over coming poverty, I remember thinking there was no one as great as him. He really pushed education very strongly on all of his children. "Without a good education you will be now where" was his daily lecture to us. There was always room to be "better." My father never told me he was proud of me, or good job Anu... just a lot of "Why didn't you do better?" I was always scared of him, and I never felt any love.
When I was a young adult, I didn't understand, how or why he expected so much out of me. Nothing was ever good enough. He would always tell me, how he would be concerned of where his next meal was coming from, where he would sleep that night, and he still got top marks... why couldn't I? I always thought it was an unfair comparison. I remember when I graduated from engineering my Father stood up and cheered. Through all the thousands of people standing in the crowd, I could see my Father standing and screaming. It was on the greatest moments in my life.
I'm thirty now, my Father has Alzheimers. His mental illness has him on a medication that allows him to lower his inhibitions. He never talks about us achieving more, just how much he loves us. I finally see that all the punishment was love, all the expectations was love, all "do better" was love. I am very grateful to have had him as a figure in my life. I can see that by standing on my own two feet and becoming an engineer, I am fulfilling his dream for his children.
My youngest brother is twelve years younger than me. My Father's mental degeneration had started after his birth. My brother has had no father figure in his life. No direction, no punishment, no "do better", but lots of love... from him and all of us. I can see that the tough love that my Father gave me growing up kept me in line. The lack of it has allowed my brother to stray. We constantly have told him how much we loved him, but it has come to my attention, by not punishing him, or pushing him to do better, he feels we don't care. I want him to realize the dreams of our Father. He will, but it'll take him a little longer than it took us. He never knew the man that we knew...
Monday, March 17, 2008
Random Acts of Kindness
On my flight home from Huntsville, Alabama last week the man sitting next to me asked me, "Do you practice random acts of kindness? Have you ever bought the person behind you at Starbucks their coffee? Do you ever pay the next car's toll on the bridge? Etc." I was taken aback. That night when I went to laid down for sleep it occurred to me that I really don't practice random acts of kindness. I have been doing some humanitarian work in India, but as far as little things here in the US, I have done very little to none.
I made a decision the next day I would be randomly kind to people around me. Now random acts of kindness can run the entire spectrum of kindness, from smiling at strangers to feeding people at homeless shelters. I've always wanted to get myself up at a very early hour on a Sunday morning, and head over to the homeless shelter and help out, but Sundays are my day off. So I decided to start at the smaller end of the spectrum: smiling. I would smile at every person that I encountered.
As I began my day, I smiled at the man that held the door open for me at my local Starbucks... and he smiled back and said, "Hello. How are you?" Then I smiled at the lady behind the counter. And the person that held the door open for me as I left the coffee shop. I smiled at the guards at the front gate at work. My coworkers, the man that I ran across during my jog, etc. I spent the entire day smiling. I noticed even when I was alone I was smiling. I just felt generally happier. My general mood was elevated, and it is quite possible that I elevated someone else's mood by smiling at them. I had no idea a smile could be so enlightening.
I am a quiet person, that keeps to myself. I don't usually make an effort to talk to people I don't know. After my little experiment I have noticed I am more open to smiling at strangers. I think if all the people could just practice these small free acts on a daily basis our communities would be a happier safer place for everyone.
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