Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go meditate.
Thought
If we are made of atoms and molecules, and they in turn from smaller particles which are empty space and energy, then what are we?
Are we our thoughts?
Ever catch your mind in a mental loop, replaying some old story, an old hurt, the same pattern? Who are you? The thought or the observer of the thought?
If you're the observer, then what is the thought?
Or are you a thought observing another thought?
Perhaps we're just biochemical storms within synaptic connections in a brain that evolved over millions of years. Or maybe there is an observer, a deeper self. No proof either way.
I'm fine with not knowing. I enjoy thinking about it, but mainly to remind myself that ultimately, everything is theory. I care about what works. What creates magic in my life.
This I know: the mind, left to itself, repeats the same stories, the same loops. Mostly ones that don't serve us. So what's practical, what's transformative, is to consciously choose a thought. Then practice it again and again. With emotion, with feeling, with acceptance.
Lay down the synaptic pathways until the mind starts playing it automatically. Do this with enough intensity over time and the mind will have no choice. That's how it operates. Where do you think your original loops came from?
The goal, if there is one, is to practice until the thought you chose becomes the primary loop. Until it becomes the filter through which you view life. Then practice some more.
Sounds like work. Perhaps. But the nature of mind is thought. Choose one that transforms you, makes your life zing. The one I found, "I love myself," is the most powerful one I know. You might discover another. Regardless, please do it.
It is worth it.
Magic
I finish at the gym, walk outside, and sit on a wall by the driveway. Indian summer evening in San Francisco. Breezy, cool, fog above downtown. Delicious.
I love my life, I find myself thinking, I love my life, I love my life, I love my life. The thought flows as naturally as the wind. I watch the skyline – people ask why I let my long hair fall in front of my eyes…it’s for moments like these, when I watch the world through wisps of silver – I love my life, I love my life.
Clouds move above, the thought shifts: I love myself, I love myself, I love myself, I love myself. I’m smiling, then grinning. All I am, my hopes, dreams, desires, faults, strengths, everything – I. Love. Myself.
If you can reach this point, even if it’s for a brief moment, it will transform you – I promise you that.
The key, at least for me, has been to let go. Let go of the ego, let go of attachments, let go of who I think I should be, who others think I should be. And as I do that, the real me emerges, far far better than the Kamal I projected to the world. There is a strength in this vulnerability that cannot be described, only experienced.
Am I this way each moment? No. But I sure as heck am working on it.
Thousands of years ago, a Roman poet wrote, “I am a human being, therefore nothing human is foreign to me.” I believe it to be true. So if this is possible for one human, it is possible for anyone. The path might be different, but the destination same.
Key is being open to loving ourselves. Once we do that, life casually takes care of the next steps.
Remain open to that one possibility and you’ll experience the beauty of watching the world around you dance its dance while inside, you fully accept this marvelous amazing human being you are. The feeling is, for lack of a better word, magic.
Surrender
I once asked a monk how he found peace.
"I say 'yes,'" he'd said. "To all that happens, I say 'yes.'"
Before I got sick, the last thing my Western mind wanted to say was "yes." I was obsessed with my business, with visions of selling it, making enough money to never work again. You can argue that obsession fuels innovation in our society. True, perhaps. But quite often, behind obsession is fear.
And there was plenty of fear. Fear of what people would think. Fear of letting employees and investors down. Fear of failing and what that would mean about me. I used the fear as energy, driving me forward, pushing to achieve, pushing to succeed, paying no attention to my body, to the present, and I paid the price.
Often, the price for not being present is pain.
Now, I understand what the monk meant. There is a surrender to what is, to the moment. Whenever I notice fear in my mind, instead of pushing it aside or using it as fuel, I say to myself, "it's ok." A gentle yes to myself. To the moment, to what the mind is feeling.
Often, that is enough to deflate the fear. From there, I shift to the truth of loving myself.
Knowing this, I realize that I still could have built a great company, had a beautiful relationship, managed my health, and reached out to my friend before she passed away and told her how much I loved her. I could have done all of this from a place of gentleness, a place of self-love.
But I can't erase the past, only learn from it. It's ok. Applying what I know makes the present and the future a beautiful place to be.
Belief
A side effect of loving myself fiercely was that it started to dislodge old patterns, thoughts and beliefs that I didn't even know existed. Whether having coffee with a friend or reading a book, I would have flashes of insight into myself. They were so clear. It was like my life was a deck of cards, each with a picture of situations I'd experienced, all falling down at me, flip flip flip, and the only thought was, "Oh my God, it all makes sense."
Here's one example. I've always known that growth is important to me. If I don't feel like I'm growing, I'm drifting, depressed. But what I didn't know, until the practice of self-love showed me, was my belief about growth: real growth comes through intense, difficult, and challenging situations.
Can you see how that would define the path of my life?
It was immediately obvious where it came from. The first time I felt like I grew in a way that I was no longer the same, I was far better: US Army Infantry bootcamp. Was it intense, yes. Was it difficult, yes. Was it challenging, every day. Was it happy or joyful, no way. Centuries of military protocol designed it to be miserable. But it's something I've always looked at as a defining experience, one I'm proud of. I went in as an insecure eighteen-year old. I came out knowing I could handle anything thrown at me. That was growth.
What we believe, that's what we seek, it's the filter we view our lives through. I've actively thrown myself at intense and difficult situations. All situations where I grew, but at what price?
Another example. In building my company, I came across as someone who was driven to succeed. Many told me so. I thought that as well until I loved myself. Then, one day, I woke up to a spotlight shining on that belief, except the truth was a slight twist: I was driven to not fail.
Huge difference. No wonder my company went the way it did. The intense and consistent work to keep moving it forward, one step away from disaster, always somehow pulling it off, then moving to avert the next disaster. Never failing, but never taking off the way I knew it should.
The good news is that once the spotlight shines from within yourself, there is no going back. The patterns of the mind that held you back fall away on their own. Like rusty old armor you don't need anymore. With each insight, there is freedom, a sense of lightness. And growth.