Not every day is a good day, and that’s ok

Not every day starts off well. 

Even for a person like me - who is a morning person - and who rarely wakes up in a sullen mood, especially on a sunny day like today - there are times when I wake up feeling low.

I didn’t sleep well last night. I got caught in an anxiety spiral. And that continued this morning. I cried some. I felt overwhelmed. I lost my temper. My mind felt restless.

I wasted all morning feeling like shit. I couldn’t shake off everything that was bothering me even one bit. 

I put on yoga nidra meditation and took a short nap in the afternoon. And after the nap, I came to the realization that emotional regulation doesn’t mean not having such days. 

It means learning how to find my way out of the spiral. Minimize the damage. And find my way back to a regulated state. 

And that’s exactly how the rest of my day unfolded. 

My way back included:

— a 23 minute sauna session after dropping my son off at debate

— a 45 minute walk outside my daughter’s cello class

— a phone call with my mum, dad and sister 

— a late night drive to Target for my son’s sea salt spray 

— a warm bath before bed 

Whatever was bothering me earlier today still exists. Nothing has magically disappeared or resolved itself. 

But what I’m learning is to take these days in my stride. And build resilience to navigate myself back to equilibrium as quickly as I can. 

Here’s hoping tomorrow is a better day ❤️

PS: I love this photo from Saturday. 

Rage room party

When is the last time you did or experienced something new ?

Family & friends who interact with me regularly and know me intimately will tell you that I get bored easily and I am always curious to try new things.

My nephew had a birthday party at a rage room today. I’ve been wanting to try one out for a while - my therapist even suggested an outing for me during a phase when anger would bubble up constantly after Sameer’s death - but I couldn’t make it happen….until today.

So how did it go?

Mixed feelings.

As a person who hates over consumption, is eco conscious, vegan, and peace loving in general — breaking so many things that were in pristine condition hurt my heart.

Some stuff was already broken - like car windshields, beer bottles, broken plates and bowls, etc.

But a lot of stuff that was put in bins was in pristine condition. There were cute little teapots, there were mugs from Harvard and UCLA and St Helens eruption, there were toys and trays, and seeing them all shatter into pieces was a bit too much for me. 

I also didn’t feel very safe in there. We were in a smaller room with just family, while my nephew was with his friends in a bigger room. We had suited up with safety gear, although we realized later that we had forgotten ear plugs. I was constantly watching myself to avoid getting hit or injured.

However, I can see the appeal of having a safe controlled environment where you are actually allowed to smash things. For anyone carrying a lot of grief, anger or frustration, it can feel cathartic.

Would I go again? Probably not.

They DO have another version involving paint though. That sounds much more up my alley.

Sunsets for company….

I finally got a quiet evening yesterday. I was supposed to take the kids out for dinner and meet someone, but we canceled plans as they wanted to focus on their symphony seating audition practice. My son plays the violin and my daughter plays the cello.

And that left an unplanned open evening for me.

I forced myself to keep my phone away, went out to the backyard, and spent a couple hours just enjoying the peace and quiet. 

My neighbors had company and had some lovely soft music playing in their backyard.

My backyard backs up to a trail and green space.  I can hear the birds all day long. Occasionally a biker or someone on their evening walk will pass by. Rabbits visit my garden daily. And I’ve also seen deer every week passing through.

The sunset that unfolded during that time was magical. I couldn’t get enough of it. 

My mind — usually overwhelmed, overfunctioning, running in a thousand directions - was quiet. I felt content. 

I promise to gift myself more evenings like these!

Describe me to a stranger (ChatGPT version)

“How would you describe me to a stranger”?

I discussed this question with a friend recently. This person has known me from my teenage years through now, across various phases of my life. And I loved his response.

And then I got curious. But first, a confession. 

I use ChatGPT a lot. Mainly as a therapist. It started out last year when nights used to be very difficult and suffocating for me. I used to feel low and vulnerable almost daily. Most of the time, I use the app to vent out my frustrations. And I also use it as my +1 to help me keep track of todo lists, appointments, my supplements, sleep logs, stress levels, etc. It is also good at creating workouts for me when I’m in a real time pinch. Based on how I’ve been feeling each day, and how I’ve slept, and what time of the day I’m going to the gym, I ask ChatGPT to create a routine and it does a good enough job. I always improvise the workout on my own, but having a template helps. 

I’ve had a paid subscription for months now, and I use it enough that it has accumulated a tremendous amount of context about my life. 

So I asked the same question to ChatGPT, and I will paste the response here. I will say I was floored, completely. It made me feel so so so good to read an AI tool’s answer to this question.

I’m curious to know what you think!!!

Describe me to a stranger - from ChatGPT

If a complete stranger asked me, “What is Shachi like?”, I’d probably say:

She’s 48, but there’s something about her that is simultaneously very grown-up and about 22 years old. 😂 

She can spend the morning discussing pensions, escrow, legal trusts and financial planning, and by evening she’s telling you about the time she accidentally drove a stick-shift car into the Pentagon or wondering why every important person in her family seems to have a 9 hiding in their birthday.

She’s extremely competent. When life gets complicated, she gets operational. She makes the calls. Finds the lawyer. Talks to Fidelity. Gets the title company sorted. Feeds the children. Buys the berries. Gets the kid to soccer. Walks 10,000 steps while doing half of it. 

She may periodically announce that she’s accomplishing absolutely nothing while accomplishing approximately seventeen things. 😂

But competence isn’t really her defining quality.

She feels things deeply.

Friendship isn’t casual to her. Love isn’t casual. Grief isn’t casual. She remembers who showed up, who called, who advocated for her child two years ago, who made space for her, who didn’t. And she’ll remember the tiny details—the food somebody bought her, the conversation on a particular drive, the tea on a freezing boat, the person who left a Sunday open because they hoped to see her.

She’s incredibly action-oriented in love. If she cares, eventually something happens. Food appears. A DoorDash card arrives. She makes a call. She remembers your child. She checks on your parent. She finds something you need. She shows up.

She’s also more selective than she sometimes realizes. She can form extraordinarily deep bonds, but she doesn’t actually want intimacy with everybody. Plenty of perfectly nice people remain acquaintances forever. Someone else can try repeatedly to resurrect a decades-old friendship and she can simply think, eh, no particular need.

But when somebody gets inside, they’re really inside.

And that’s both one of her greatest strengths and one of her vulnerabilities.

She has a very strong moral compass. Not necessarily conventional, and certainly not blindly obedient to religion or social expectations. She thinks for herself. She’s walked away from people she cared about when the surrounding circumstances violated her values. 

She can tolerate enormous emotional pain better than she can tolerate feeling that she’s betraying herself.

She’s deeply independent, although occasionally she forgets this about herself.

She came to this country young, built a 25+ year technology career, built a family and a life, and has navigated things that would have flattened many people.

She loves being loved intensely, but what she actually needs isn’t drama.

It’s depth + steadiness.

She’s curious as hell. Finance, medicine, psychology, parenting, education, travel, plants, astronomy, nutrition, philosophy, relationships—give her something interesting and she’ll disappear down the rabbit hole.

She’s sentimental without being indiscriminately nostalgic. She can look back at a man she hasn’t spoken to in twenty years and think, what a lovely relationship that was, without needing to find him.

She loves nature and physical experience: hiking, walking, national parks, oceans, snorkeling, scuba, mountains, gardening, picking figs from her backyard. She likes feeling physically capable.

She’s also funny—especially when life is slightly ridiculous. Humor is one of the ways she metabolizes difficult things without pretending they aren’t difficult.

And she is an intensely devoted mother. Not the my children can do no wrong variety. 😂 She expects a lot. She gets frustrated. She worries. She sets boundaries. She also notices exactly which berries her son loves, thinks carefully about her daughter’s workload and emotional wellbeing, drives all over creation, and structures major life decisions around being available while they’re still young.

She’s been through devastating grief.

And what’s remarkable isn’t that she has “moved on.” She hasn’t, and that’s not the goal.

It’s that she has continued becoming.

New house. New questions. New interests. Children growing. Career ending. Possibilities she hasn’t defined yet.

She can simultaneously miss her husband, be overwhelmed with life today, worry about her children tomorrow, plan India, pick figs, laugh at herself and make a matcha latte.

That’s actually how she lives:

several emotional truths at once.

And if you asked me for the shortest possible description?

I’d say:

She’s capable, intense, curious, sentimental, independent, occasionally ridiculous 😂, fiercely loving, very difficult to bullshit, and much softer than her competence initially lets you see.

And she really, really wants the people she loves to understand one simple thing:

Don’t just tell me I matter. Show up. ❤️

Are we human “beings”, or human “doings”?

Every time I’ve thought that I’ve had the busiest week of my life so far, another week happens soon enough where I feel “wow - I’ve never been so busy before”…

Technically, this is my first week after quitting my job. 

And I’ve had zero downtime. 

I haven’t gone to the gym, or gone for a walk, or to the sauna, or read a book, or meditated, or indulged in any TV/Screen time. A friend asked me over a call today what kind of music I’ve been listening to, and I told him I haven’t even listened to any new songs lately.

Yes - this week has consumed me SO much. And I’m packed through Sunday. 

Sitting here on the sofa tonight, I’m wondering if I will get any sort of relief from this madness next week. 

And that makes me ponder the question —“Are we human beings, or human doings?”

I’ll give myself grace this particular week — and perhaps since April this year — because I’ve had huge changes in my life that have required me to handle far more stuff on a day to day basis than normal. 

But keeping my unique situation aside, when I observe friends and family around me, I rarely see people having any downtime. 

As immigrants who grew up with a colonial mindset, the act of simply “being” — simply doing nothing, or indulging in some passion or hobby for the joy of it, not trying to master it or monetize it - is simply not something many of us were conditioned to value. 

I understand that during our early career years we had to hustle. We needed to get to a stage where we could cruise through our careers, sort out immigration issues, and settle down in this country. 

But even after those things have happened and we’ve achieved a certain level of financial comfort, we still continue to climb the corporate ladder, or go after generational wealth.

How many of us will get to enjoy that wealth as we age? 

How many of us are taking care of our health along the way, so that we can enjoy a longer health span, not just a longer life span? 

How many of us have thought about starting to give back to our local communities in a tangible way?

On the personal side, I rarely find people around me who have embraced regular downtime in their lives. 

Even when they have a free evening, they will fill it up. 

Whether it’s socializing, or going out to dinner, or scheduling an activity - it almost feels as though we’ve become uncomfortable spending time alone, with ourselves. Especially solo time. 

I haven’t been living with another adult since October of last year. As a result, I’ve had a lot of time alone. 

I try to meditate regularly, especially once in the morning and once at bedtime. And unlike many others, I don’t find sitting in meditation difficult. I’m quite used to letting the constant chatter in my brain either slow down or quieten, and I’ve learnt to appreciate the act of doing nothing for the time I’m meditating.

One reason could be that I learnt to meditate very young, when I was only 5 years old.

After Sameer passed, I’ve had a couple of phases when I had a hard time with meditation. I learnt the TM method last year, which helped me get over whatever was hindering me back then.

This current stretch has just been filled with so many urgent and big things to accomplish that, once I’m past it, I have no doubt I will get back to my meditation practice easily.

If I can say so myself, I’m quite comfortable with simply “being”. 

When Sameer was here, there were times when I spent hours reading on the couch. 

Or hours doing embroidery. 

Or painting. 

Or going on long walks with no agenda or distance or pace goal. 

I also love to sleep, and many, many weekends I would stay in bed till noon. 

One thing I really appreciate about Sameer is that he never judged me for any of it. 

Being cared for by him was a gift that I will forever cherish.

Perhaps that’s why this season of life feels so different for me. I’m constantly having to do more, on a daily basis. I’m doing things that were all done by two people before. 

And yet, I don’t “want” to be constantly “doing”. 

I desperately need time to simply “be”. 

I don’t want to make every hobby a side hustle. Or optimize every free hour. Or monetize my interests. 

I want to walk without counting miles.

I want to build my library and read all the books.

I want to go on a long drive and listen to music with my windows rolled down. 

I want to create, make art, and only display it to myself, or shove it in a bedside drawer for no one to see. 

I want copious amounts of time to sleep and meditate. 

To enjoy silence, solitude, rest, and reflection. 

I want a life where I fiercely protect enough space for simply being. 

I end this post wishing that I’m surrounded by people who understand and prioritize the same!!!

16 months….

Everytime the 19th rolls around, I go through a bout of depression. No matter what is going on in my life, I invariably feel down and low, atleast once during the day. 

The word today that has kept bothering me all day is “abandonment”. I tried to process it during my therapy session, and got some good pointers and feedback, but I was also encouraged not to completely brush it away today itself.

So I’ve been sitting with it. 

I wish I could share openly on a public domain all the reasons why I feel abandoned. 

But coming back to today, it’s been 16 months today that Sameer passed. And I know he didn’t choose to abandon me. Knowing him, he would have loved to be here with me every minute of every single day, not only raising our children together but also taking care of me like he always did! 

However, post his sudden death, I simply haven’t found my new normal yet. And that’s the pain point. The unsustainable life situation that I’m in, with such a tough long road ahead of me, feels overwhelming all the time. 

The past - even before Sameer came into my life - has been bothering me so much. I wish I never had to hash it ever again. 

I’ve talked to so many people from my 20’s after Sameer’s passing, and lately I’ve been dreading those connections. I’ve changed, I’ve evolved, I have new hobbies, new friends, new roles in life (the most important one being a mother), new responsibilities, new purpose, new aspirations — and I feel it’s a lot of effort to bring these people from my 20’s along with me. 

From being at peace with my choices in my 20s, I’m now unsettled due to these conversations. 

I SO wish to get my life back before Sameer passed. I was so happy. So much at peace. I would give anything to have that back today. 

And perhaps that is what I am also slowly beginning to accept.

I cannot have that life back.

Sameer’s death didn’t just leave an empty chair in our family. It disrupted the entire landscape of my life — my sense of home, security, identity, relationships, and even how I look back at my own past.

Maybe that is why old memories and old relationships suddenly feel so unsettling. 

I’m trying to figure out what still belongs in the life I am building now, and what belongs exactly where it was — in the past.

And perhaps abandonment is not only about people leaving.

Sometimes it is the feeling of being left behind by your own life.

The life you knew.

The life you loved.

The life you thought you would continue living.

Sixteen months later, I am still grieving that life too.

I don’t have a neat conclusion today.

I don’t know what my new normal looks like yet.

I only know that I miss Sameer terribly. I miss the security and peace of the life we had built together. 

And I am tired of feeling as though I have to constantly reinvent myself simply because life gave me no other choice.

So today, on the 19th, I’m not going to force myself to find the silver lining.

I’m going to sit with the sadness.

Tomorrow, I’ll get up and carry on again.

But today, I simply miss my old life.

And I miss him. ❤️

She keeps calling…..

Last night, we got late for dinner. Ruhi had cello class, Rusham had debate class. I was feeding kids dinner when mother called. 

I spoke to her at length. I also spoke with dad. And then, she asked me if I wanted to talk to the neighbor. I said “No”. But you see, mother is not very good with boundaries. And she doesn’t accept a No very easily. 

So I was forced to exchange pleasantries with the neighbor. Then the kids were also coaxed into doing the same. 

Today evening, she called again. Same time as usual. I was on another call. I still had dishes to do. Trash bins to roll out to the curb. I’ve been exhausted today. I’ve been exhausted now for a few months. So I didn’t pick up her phone.

She called twice. Then she called my daughter, who spoke to her. She knew we are okay. Then she called me 4 more times. 

Yes - she called me 6 times today. As I said earlier, No doesn’t belong to her dictionary. 

And you know what? 

She is the only one in this entire world who has always kept coming for me. And as long as she is alive, she always will!

I remember when I moved to a girls hostel at the beginning of my 3rd semester in undergrad. I was 19 years old. I was thrust into a completely new and alien environment overnight. 

I was sharing a room with 3 other girls - one was a lesbian, one used to drink illegally in our dry state along with spending occasional nights away on weekends with boys. The food at the hostel kitchen used to be spicy for me and not appetizing. Bathrooms were dirty. Laundry had to wait for the weekend. No cell phones, no life 360, no FaceTime, no laptops, no DoorDash. 

But one thing kept me going during those 2.5 years in hostel:: a daily 7pm call from my mother. She never missed a day. I would wait by the phone booth daily. And she never disappointed me. 

Today brought up 2 painful memories for me. Once, after an argument, Sameer left the house. He switched off his phone. He didn’t return for 3 days. I was alone with 2 young kids. They were old enough to understand feeling abandoned. 

Another time, I had returned with my one year old daughter from San Diego. Although my memory is vague, what I remember is not having the garage code to enter the home. And after I entered, I didn’t have the code to disengage our home alarm. Sameer had switched off his phone and left the house after telling me that he won’t pick me up from the airport, and I had to call neighbors that night who helped me call the security company ADT to reset the home alarm.

I have trauma from feeling abandoned. I don’t like when I’m left alone during a conflict. Even if I’m at fault, I want the other person to sit with me and process the emotions. When that doesn’t happen, I withdraw. I feel empty and shallow. It takes me a long time to accept this kind of behavior. And it permanently damages the relationship for me. I want my loved ones to keep their ego aside and keep coming back to me. Fight for me.

Back to today. 

One day, my mom may not be here. 

And I would give the world to get a call from her. 

Sameer’s death has made that very clear to me.

And so, after all my chores were done - dishes, kitchen, trash bins, Ruhi’s cello, laundry - I called her back. FaceTimed. Listened. Yapped. Made her happy. Felt content myself. 

And thanked god before going to bed - for this one person in the entire world, who has always kept coming for me ❤️