90 days of Intentional Living

I pushed my adulthood for a very long time—longer than a normal adult—in the name of a Ph.D. I had the privilege of being a student, receiving a stipend, and managing life with it. The beauty of being a student is that you are a student and still have time for a hundred different things. I was performing, teaching, sitting and ruminating, lamenting, soaking in all my emotions a hundred percent.

When I reflect back on that phase of my life, I say to myself—wow, what a luxury. Even after joining a job and getting married, I could retain some part of that life. But life really began to run when my daughter was born. And once she became a toddler, I became a hundred percent someone who could not afford not to juggle a hundred things—less sleep, more cortisol.

For someone who hadn’t done this for a very, very long time—for thirty-odd years—this felt like something was lit under my bum and I was forced to run. I did not like the rush. I like my laid-back coffee/tea mornings. Alas! I am not even an IT employee who can stay home and work for a few days. I am that professor who has to show up every day in class by 8 a.m.

I am also a mother—with guilt, for not always being there. Also a dancer, with guilt—for not practising enough. And so many other roles, each carrying its own guilt—for not being fully present. I am doing everything, but mostly on autopilot.

Now, on the days I eat well, I don’t get to sleep well. On the days I exercise, I don’t get to eat well. Oh, and there are no “sleep well” days at all. It has been more than three years since I’ve had a truly beautiful sleep.

I could have had time if I were doing only one job. But I also teach on weekends. I also practise. I also want to do great things. I want to have the cake and have it all. Hence the anxiety.

But how can I give up on any of these things?

The regret would be heavy if I didn’t follow my passion—an incorrigible kind of regret. Hence, I try to do it all, however much I can. Maybe I can, because in history many women did do it all. Not with ease, but somehow, they did.

I started to think: if doing is inevitable, how can I make it effective? How can I be the opposite of “autopilot” living—meaning, conscious living, intentional living—in everything I do? How can I be more self-aware, in ways that bring authenticity to my everyday routine, even in the rush?

So I want to softly challenge myself to be more intentional, more authentic. And blogging is my good old-fashioned way of recording things. I love writing and reading blogs—whether anyone reads them or not. I know hardly anyone reads, but I still love it.

Hence, I will blog all days, or some days, of my intentional living, and how it is going.

“Wherever you are, be there totally.” — Eckhart Tolle

Winter Favourite
On winter mornings, every day, there’s one thing I look forward to—the sky at dawn. I watch it bloom into orange, sometimes light purple and pink. Beautiful to look at, yet impossible to capture on my phone. And then, on my way to the university, I see the bright sun playing hide-and-seek with the fog.