…The power of words as a way to figure out who you are and what you think, and what you believe, and what’s important, and to sort through and interpret this swirl of events that is happening around you every minute.
- President Obama on What Books Mean to Him
There was a time where I would read and write almost every day. When I was young, I read religiously. It was the highlight of my day and night. I remember it felt so natural to me, reading about anything and everything. Current events, fiction, sci-fi, history, comic books, you name it. I truly appreciated and enjoyed the pure act of reading, feeling, thinking and making sense of the world around me.
Going through puberty, reading became writing. Partially due to the language barrier, but most likely because I felt like I didn’t know what to do with myself. All those strange feelings and emotional rollercoasters as a teenager probably freaked me out, especially in a new foreign environment. As an outlet and a safe hiding place for my newly discovered self, I would always secretly carve out some time to write..about my thoughts and inner most feelings.
I continued to do so even through college, less frequently, but always kept it private. I hadn’t even thought for a moment to share it anyone but myself. Partly, I think I felt that my views were too radical at the time, feelings too depressing, opinions too extreme, for me to casually bring it up in a conversation. and I think they were. I have always felt that my own world was small, mundane, and very limited (Self hate or not). But the real world, the big, scary, loud world with innovators, leaders, power players seemed to be a place that was not fit for me, like I just didn’t belong.
Ironically, I have always dreamt about the big world at the same time I was almost certain it did not have a place for me; a person with a rather quiet, timid voice with no strong desires and ambition. If you had asked me what I think my biggest weakness is when I was younger, I would’ve always answered that it is my sheer and consistent lack of ambition and drive. I was touted as the smartest kid in many settings throughout, but I always drifted away. I just always felt like I didn’t belong in the track that I was on. I’m a highly intuitive person. I learn things fast. and I think I’m pretty smart…but I didn’t have a sense of direction. I was lost.
I have been very lucky to have gone through a life that I had so far, but none was intensely prepared or intended. I strongly believed that it was always in my best interest to set out my life’s paths rather naturally (randomly) yet adventurously and I thrive in that natural practice of life, something I always have referred to as ‘organized chaos’. I have always wanted to have a meaningful impact on others (although very vaguely) and wanted to own up to my life’s purpose. I’ve wanted to have a strong, mindful voice, a footing deeply rooted to my values and beliefs. I just didn’t know how or what I can do in order to achieve that lofty dream of mine.
Then as I was turning 30, a couple of things became really clear to me. Through the seemingly random past life experiences, emotional ups and downs, many different countries, different career paths and people I came across on this journey taught me more about who I am and what I had been missing for last 5 years or so.
So I started reading and writing; most of them still unpublished and private. But I hope that will change. Yesterday I was reading NYT magazine and came across an article about how Obama thinks about reading and writing. I t instantly caught my eye, profoundly resonated with me and reinforced what I had intended to practice, going forward. I hope to find out more about who I am…by reading and writing. and in that process I know I’ll be able to have a strong, mindful, independent voice, unique to the core of who I am, that will stand out relentlessly and fiercely amongst all the noise of the world. Achieving that, I know that I’ll someday feel like I belong in this world…and I have a place and a purpose to be.
