I'm in Bangalore right now. It's a cool city. It's a busy city, and traffic is a nightmare and reminds me of why I never moved to London, but it's cool. There's a craft microbrewery and a yoga café within a stone's throw from where I'm staying. There's the buzz and hum of an energised start-up scene, with tech and social change high on the agenda. People are friendly, you can show your shoulders and hold hands with a loved one in public and drink cocktails with real liquor, and in some ways it reminds me of home whilst in others it reminds me how far from home I am.
On Sunday, I went to a the most sweet yoga flow in Cubbon Park under tree 695 hosted by Yoga Matters and Kiki. On Sunday, a friend back home in Edinburgh gave birth to a beautiful baby girl. On Sunday, David Bowie died. Today, on Tuesday, I'm considering my whereabouts and about where I am.
I'll admit, I am sometimes confused by mass outpourings of grief for a celebrity that often happens after someone well-known has passed away. Not because I don't believe they deserve to be mourned. But more because everyone deserves to be mourned and often I find one celebrity's passing overshadows the many births and deaths that occur on a daily basis. But also because often everyone jumps on the bandwagon of "I'm sad, a great loss" when until the moment of this person's passing, there was no apparent care or real attachment to said actor / musician / public figure. The advent of social media has made public mourning fashionable, which in turn can make it seem a little false or fabricated for the sake of fitting in. (Not to say that it is false, but this is the impression the mass mourning gives).
However I realised, after paying attention to the many outpourings of grief and bemoaning the passing of Bowie that he did really have an affect on a great many people's lives; the way in which music can be written and produced, the way in which an individual can express themselves both physically and in what they say about themselves. He served as a huge inspiration to generations of musicians, artists, and individuals trying to find their voice and self-expression. The overwhelming outpouring of grief at his death makes sense to me. A moment of 'what would the world have been like had David Bowie not been born' made me realise it would have been very different, and lacking a lot of sparkle.
And so, when I read this quote that was floating around the internet amongst the many posts showcasing the beauty of his life at the moment of his death, it made sense to me in my current whereabouts:
I don't know where I'm going but I promise it won't be boring.
That quote makes perfect sense in life, as well as in death. No one knows what lies beyond the veil, and no one knows what lies ahead in the next day, week or month. Not really.
Leaving a much-loved job and a wonderful city I call home was very much an outward expression of embracing that unknown. Two months and twelve days in to these travels, and I can now say pretty confidently "I have no fucking idea what I'm doing." It feels good to say it out loud.
I had a job I loved, friends I still hold so dear, in a city I was quite enamoured with. It could be said at that point I did know what I was doing, and in one way I did. But I outgrew certain elements, had a relentless urge for going, and underneath the elements lining up nicely for a life lived with purpose, I didn't really know what I was doing. Case in point: take away the job, the friends, the city, and I don't know what I'm doing. And that's ok.
Accepting that, and even attempting to embrace it, is what's allowing me to be here and begin conversations with others and myself I probably wouldn't have otherwise. None of us can really know what's coming next. Even if we line up all the pieces nicely, something outwith our control can change it all in an instant. Like a birth, or a death. Or a flood. Or international politics, like border control and immigration laws. Life as it plays out is beyond our control, so make the most of what you can do and be prepared for anything.
I get the feeling I'm not the only person who has no idea what they're doing. Yet culturally we all feel the need to pretend that we do, to make-believe and live out that fairytale we've spun to fit in. If you’re open and vulnerable and speak out about not knowing, you invite in far more opportunities for growth and change than you would if you just said you had it together, everything was fine, and you’re not looking to change a single thing. How will things change if you act like you want nothing to change, when underneath you’re craving the new and unknown? So here I am, admitting that 10 years after a successful University education, a successful career in entrepreneurial education, working for a San Francisco start-up and starting-it-up in Edinburgh myself, after all those things that can be called success, and appearing to know what I was doing, I'm hitting reset and figuring it all out again. Except I'm not starting over, because I have those 10 years of work experience, life experience, friends and contacts behind me. I'm so grateful for them all.
So, I really don't know where I'm going next. I have an idea of what I don't want to do, and an idea about the things I would like to do. The fun part is figuring out how to fit them all together.
First on my list is seeking out inspiration. Travel brings new horizons and faces and people with their own stories everyday. The internet brings new blogs and articles and journals and TEDtalks. My kindle brings me new words and worlds to explore. And I've told myself if all I manage to do in January is read and write every day, get on my yoga mat and breathe and move, and keep in touch with the friends I hold dear, then I'll consider it a success for myself. I have no idea what February holds, but what's the use in worrying or planning until January has blossomed in the way I hope it might, but with the curiosity of not knowing what else might come up in the meantime.
It's January, I'm in Bangalore, and I'm in the process of discovering more things about myself and who I could be and who others are and what this world is and how I could fit into it in some meaningful way that can make a difference. That's my whereabouts, in the midst of my walkabout. Sending love from here to wherever you are x
Bits & Pieces // Inspiration
Alok Vaid-Menon's TED Talk We Are Nothing (And That Is Beautiful) which not only includes a sublime spoken word performance, but why it's ok to fail and why we should embrace failure in a system that defined success for us without giving us the choice to decide if that's what we want.
The key to changing the world is to find a way to fail to live up to its expectations.
Brené Brown's TED Talk The Power of Vunerability which reminded me that it's ok to admit I don't know what I'm doing and to open that conversation so that I can invite in more meaningful connection and communication, that might lead me closer to knowing (for a while, at least).
Mark Manson's blog on 10 Life Lessons to Excel in Your 30s which reassured me that no one has any idea what they're doing, and that's ok. The fun of life is figuring it out as you go, into every decade of your life.
“Unless you are already dead — mentally, emotionally, and socially — you cannot anticipate your life 5 years into the future. It will not develop as you expect. So just stop it. Stop assuming you can plan far ahead, stop obsessing about what is happening right now because it will change anyway, and get over the control issue about your life’s direction. Fortunately, because this is true, you can take even more chances and not lose anything; you cannot lose what you never had. Besides, most feelings of loss are in your mind anyway – few matter in the long term.”
Here's to failing and figuring out where you might be tomorrow.