Thoughts on Adulting (I)
Some Lessons from the Mundane
Hello! Hope you are keeping well. I apologize for writing so late. Past month has been extremely challenging to say the least. The thing called adulting is becoming more real than ever. I recently shifted to Delhi for a new job. My first job actually. And it was chaotic to say the least. From shifting cities overnight, searching for a place to live, falling repeatedly sick, settling in, to slowly adjusting as the chaos of the word does not pause for anyone. Having lived away from home, for about 4 years now, surprisingly this was the first time I felt home sick.
It's almost been a month, and yet I am trying to understand the timing of these feeling that I have not felt before. This mystery got me thinking about home, a topic that never ceases to be off my mind. It also got me wondering about adulting. And so, I decided to write down my thoughts.
- Adulting is realizing the value of goodbyes. It's about coming in terms with the fact that every hello is a goodbye in the making. It's about unlearning that goodbyes aren't bad. Goodbyes are necessary for saying new hellos. Goodbyes teach you a lot about life. More specially, they teach some very important lessons about acceptance.
- The other day I came across this statement by Cheryl Strayed
"Acceptance is a small, quiet room"
Adulting is all about travelling from one small, quiet room to another. It's about sitting in silence with yourself in this room. It's about decorating this room, whichever way you like. It's about making this small, quiet room, yours and yours only. It's about accepting that your room, the one back in your home, is long gone. The room you grew up in is only a memory. A memory that you shall forever carry with your luggage from one city to another, from one room to the other.
- Adulting is that period in life where we learn to create our space. I cannot emphasize enough on this. This was perhaps the first thing I learnt, as I passed through my 20s. The creation of a personal space was the only constant thing in my life, as I kept moving places. The only act that gave me a sense of stability, control, and power. It was also the realization that this space was the closet thing I had to something resembling home. Something I could call mine and mine only. Home is long gone. To find that one physical space, worthy of calling home, is futile. I always refused to call my rented rooms, home. To imagine that there was someone before me living here, making this place, and calling it their own, was weird. How there will be someone else after me, who'll live here, and still make that place their own. Rented houses are fascinating that way. Yet, all of us, in that briefest moment, made that place that was never ours, ours. I think that's what making space means.
- Home is not a place, its this space. Home is here and now. Home is what I make of it. Home is the objects I carry from my home. Its the bedsheets my mother bought for me. The bag that I have been using since college. Its the clothes I bought together with my mother. I guess, home is the memory of my mother.
- Adulting is carrying a bag that can never be filled enough with memories, longing and yearning. It's telling yourself everyday that you are grieving, and its okay. Somedays it's remembering your old classrooms, the break hour where you would roam around the campus. How 4pm was the best time in college to be alive. Catching up with friends from other courses, eating fruit bowl, drinking cold coffee. Somedays, it's the memory of travelling to Cubbon park and having my little picnic. Its walking randomly on the streets on Koramangala just for a glass of sugarcane juice. Each passing moment is a memory in making. Each step forward, leaves behind a mark, that always reminds you of what was. Empty spaces can never be filled. We only end up making more empty space.
- Much of your adulting happens in a routine. I have been a longstanding fan of the beauty that lies in our daily lives, the rozmarra. But, it is only recently that I am seeing how much value this routine life holds. Many people may find it constricting. I find routine very liberating. Probably because it's the only thing that feels remotely stable, and certain, in a pretty much chaotic world. The metro journey back and forth from work, dancing sneakily while walking the great hauz khaz interchange, making inside jokes with your colleagues each day. Honestly, it's these little things that make much of the dread quite liveable. It's wonderful how it's not just the people around you who become a part of your routine, but how you become a part of everyone else's routine. Saying hello to the grocery auntie every morning at 9, as I leave for work, and she opens the shutter. Meeting sharp at 1pm in the kitchen for lunch, which quickly becomes a hub for gossip. Packing your bag right at 7pm, so that didi can clean the office, and go home. Diligently making small talk with your sabzi walla at 7:30pm, right when he is about to leave your neighborhood. It's truly amazing how the routines of a bunch of strangers get organically intertwined. Maybe everyone is seeking some stability in a routine.
- Adulting is about distances, but more importantly about transcending those distances. My old friends from college, keeping me up to date about life in Bangalore. Calling my mother each night, and exchanging a list of interesting things we found in grocery stores. As much as it hard to accept the growing physical distance, it is easy to remind oneself that these distances are only and only physical. Phone calls becomes such an important part of the day. Sending messages about your daily happenings never felt so good.
- Lastly, adulting is all about you. Gosh there is just so much of you. Living alone is an art that is practiced and mastered during adulthood. It teaches you so much about self-reliance, finding your way, enjoying your little moments, I can go on and on.
थक गया हूँ मैं
हर रोज़ चलते-चलते
सुस्ताना चाहता हूँ मैं कहीं भी कुछ घड़ी
कोई है जो दे दे एक पेड़
दे सके तो दे बस देह भर छाँह!
~ उदय प्रकाश
I don't know why, but I wanted to share this poem with you today. This was one of the most toughest piece to write. The moment I started writing about my experiences with adulting, I was all over the place. There was SO MUCH that I wanted to say. But alas! I would however love to hear your thoughts, and your experiences with adulting. Anything that you would like to share :)
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When Life Gives You Melon
Choose Water over Choly 🍉
Aakash xx