Life as I find it

I grew up hearing his songs, mimicing dance moves, learning “break dance” from the mysterious appeal his graceful moves had. I heard of allegations of abuse, and saw them as a price of celebrity, without really believing one way or the other. Many judged him harshly about his changed looks.

Yet, if I have to think of the King of Pop, I don’t remember news headlines, but hours spent memorizing videos to catch nuances of moves, trying to spin with the kind of speed……… writing down and learning lyrics of favourite songs…..

Somehow, the music, and the gossip were so separate, it may not have been the same person.

Today, I got an SMS about his death. Hadn’t thought of him for a long time, and when I did, it was with all the snobbery of a grown up person who doesn’t really pay attention to “has been” celebrities. What I hadn’t expected was the sorrow I felt for the loss a man I barely knew beyond hearing his songs and knowing that the colour of his skin changed over time, and that there had been accusations about him in the news.

I found myself searching for news about what happened. Why did he die?

I read about his life, his struggles, his childhood, family, career, medications, surgeries, home……. and for the first time, this man was very real to me. A man who made lemonade with lemons he got, shared generously when he had fortune, had his share of good and bad luck, his share of insecurities, quirks, obsession with childhood and the quest for what he had missed…..

For someone who had a very public life, had been described as a character more than a person, and had admitted that he preferred the stage and real life people terrified him, Michael Jackson’s life, feelings, motivations and circumstances are so transparent in this moment, that I can’t help but think, how much real can we get than to have our deepest hurts, fears and vulnerabilities out there for anyone to know?

Jacko was human. He took the world by storm. He died. Whether he was perfect is irrelevant. What matters is that he made his mark. What matters is that he changed countless lives with his talent and generosity. What matters is that he will be missed.

So much for resisting writing about my pregnancy. I guess, it can’t be helped. Its my reality.

I discovered a few things no resource online or printed told me, so that’s what I want to share.

1. Everyone speaks of low back pain. Two weeks ago, I got pain in the middle of my back. Sleeping would have been a nightmare if I could manage it. Poor Raka massaged by back tirelessly, only to have it hurt again the minute it stopped. I’d been using the same bed, eating the same food… I added a soft pillow under the tummy to see if it helped. It didn’t. Felt good, but did nothing for the backache. Eno worked. Yep, its Eno, the fruit salts I’m talking about. Apparently, my growing tummy encouraged pockets of gas. Half a sachet of the stuff, and I’m sleeping like a baby through the night once more. I hope it lasts.
2. Swelling in feet. Again, got it briefly, but I tend to fuss when my body isn’t how I’d like it to be, so I pursued the daylights out of this. Feet up, resting, walking, reducing salt, drinking water….. didn’t help. My blood pressure was absolutely normal anyway. What helped was eating bananas. Apparently, the potassium in them does something nice to the excess sodium in my body causing these swellings. Yay!!!
3. Mood swings. The more I took care of myself, the more cranky I got. What worked was crying for a bit before I worked myself into a lather. It satisfied something in me that wanted to be upset, and I was bright as sunshine in no time flat.

Call me crazy, but I’m in a place where I cheer whatever works.

There are moments when we experience what we know.

As a change agent, I experience these moments when I am able to let myself go, and immerse myself into the reality I am in.

One such incident happened this morning when an old friend of mine called me up just to be able to speak with someone. She had problems with her family, child and felt overworked, underappreciated and generally at the end of her tether.

As I listened, I became aware of how much this woman did, how much she embraced, how much she constantly challenged herself to do more and more, and saw her failures while forgetting the tremendous things she achieved as a matter of fact. I shared that with her in perhaps a couple of phrases after an hour long phone call. The relief that replaced all that restless energy was so profound, that I could have reached out and touched it physically.

We spoke very briefly after that. The conversation was concluded with openness of heart and lightness of being. She wrote back an email saying how much better she felt after talking to me, and how just listening to my voice made everything better.

Was it listening to my voice? I don’t think so. I think it was because in that moment, I really listened to her, and understood what she was saying. It hadn’t been about resolving any of the numerous problems she shared and it wasn’t about me telling her anything at all. It was about me listening to her deeply, and really understanding and appreciating the state of her being, as she was sharing with me.

In that moment, she wasn’t alone, and I wasn’t alone. We were deeply together, enriching, empowering each other.

Its a wonderful time in our lives. I’m pregnant. This brings up so many things we hadn’t imagined when we oh so maturely decided that we could plan a baby soon.

Suddenly, all decisions seem to revolve around it. Long term plans, short term plans, will this or that or both together be too hectic? Doctor’s meetings – I didn’t have a regular doctor at all, since I didn’t need one for over 8-9 years. Suddenly, I’m meeting one twice a month.

Concerns – age, smoking, drinking, hectic lifestyle…… and how to manage all that.

Phew! Its quite different from the image of cow-like peace that I had imagined.

One change seems to invite more and suddenly the work facet of my life is going into over drive, with tempting work coming up all over the place. Work that I don’t want to leave, and I’m scared to take up and jeopardise my rest in any way.

Money is a whole new story all together. My monthly finances now have a whole chunk added to them in terms of medicines, doctor’s fees, healthy food, more comfortable travel….. and from all I hear, once the little one is out, it only gets bigger.

Wow! Much to learn, much to cope with.

The good part is, I’m healthy, I’m happy, and both of us are looking forward eagerly to this. Friends and family are overjoyed, supportive and so caring. Its a whole new intimacy with my husband and my near and dear ones.

Life is beautiful.

Was talking with someone about the problems wildlife sanctuaries face with local populations. On one end, there is the need to conserve the wildlife, to ensure that natural life survives in an increasingly crowded world.

On the other hand, what happens to all those people who live in close proximity to nature?

Over the years, in my life as a wanderer, I have lived the life of a nomadic Khampa horsewoman in the Himalaya, been in close touch with other nomads – Gaddi (shepherds), Gujjars (buffaloherds), etc. This has made me sensitive to the “people of the land”. I can’t see a rich, luscious lawn without feeling a sense of well being, even though I don’t own livestock anymore. I can’t see barren land without wondering where the nearest greenery is. It is a part of me.

I see nature in a continuing cycle, but I see humans as a part of it, not just the protectors of something different from them. In a way, perhaps, I see cities as the anthills of humans.

We are different, yes. We are perhaps the only animal on earth to own the very land they live on. Not just territorial within our species, but with other species as well – We kill pests in our home, we don’t want pigeons or stray dogs inside, etc.

On the other hand, in my life as a nomad, my horses were family, and there was a deep sense of nurturance for all life no matter who owned it or if it was wild.

Today, as we “protect” our natural life, we isolate it and frame it and put it on display as something “other”. Sanctuaries showcase “wildlife” and restrict tribals from using natural resources in it.

Some of it is essential – poaching, hunting endanger animals and need to be protected from. Yet, how does a nomadic shepherd deal  with not being able to wander grasslands at will? Already, Himalayan shepherds face problems in the winter months with reduced grazing in low altitudes with increase in population and development. If they are also restricted in their summer months, soon we are going to lose an entire part of our living history, because of our inability to understand that not all lives can be slotted and allotted only specific amounts of land.