Tuesday, November 29, 2016

The Uneasy Feeling

It seems like something that is difficult to shake.  At every life stage we go through, we continuously have an uneasy feeling, and it’s sort of there constantly in the background.  Nagging us continuously creating doubt, fear and making us question our abilities.  It is an invisible dialogue we have no matter how successful or confident things seem on the outside there is that ever pervading doubt.

I think this may be a survival mechanism, an animal instinct to always be on the lookout.  Nobody likes to acknowledge this side of themselves, it puts you in a vulnerable spot.  It’s the social media world now, where what is posted is perfection, happy faces, continuous highs and good moments.  We are bombarded with images and thoughts which make us feel like that is the true reality, when it is really just a small subset of positive emotions.  What is shared is not the whole spectrum of sentiments or authenticity, not only is it a limited view, it is a filtered reality of that small window.

The human experience is very difficult to capture, we try in our own ways.  Pictures, videos, writing, art yet nothing can ever describe emotions completely.  There is always that part of our experience that only we know that only we live and that only we actually feel.  That is our inner truth, our unfiltered reality.

That uneasy feeling is actually our reality that we ignore, that we consistently refuse to engage in discourse with.  The participation of understanding yourself, your true inner self is the first step of spirituality.  It is the step that seems the most difficult because we are so used to living externally, our image our reputation, our looks, everything creating noise from the true reality of who we really are, and what our real purpose in life is or should be.

Facing anything takes courage, but facing yourself is the most daunting task of all.  It is why most refuse to do so and continuously live in a state of superficial reality.   We create a numbing environment full of things around us, and put value on temporary objects.  Our self-worth becomes less of the inner truth, rather more about what we can project to society. 

Our worth is not in our things, it is not in our relationships, it is not in our accomplishments.  Our worth is something we have within, that we are born with, it is just given to us for free and that is probably why we take it for granted.  It is too simple so we make it complicated that is a gift we have as human beings, to complicate simple things.

The only way to cure the uneasy feeling is to embrace it, own it, and understand it.  Applying the coating of acceptance will begin to bring some peace and contentment.  In an otherwise noisy world silence is the key, it is the only truth.

Monday, December 14, 2015

The Average Sikh



They say the average American does not know the difference between a Sikh and Muslim.  They tell me the average American associates a turban and a beard with ISIS, Taliban, or Bin Laden.  That’s ok because the average Sikh does not have fear in their vocabulary.
We are not the victims of mistaken identity, we are in fact doing exactly what our identity was supposed to do.  It was supposed to absorb hate and ignorance so others would not have to.  See, you mistake us for something we are not however you do not know exactly who we are.  Our heritage teaches us tolerance, to love the enemy and to protect even those we do not agree with.  These seemingly progressive values, of equality, freedom of religion, justice for all that you thought were American are actually something Sikhs have been living, and dying for centuries overOur history is full of examples how Sikhs protected others before themselves, put humanity first and their own life last.  We are taught from a very young age that our identity comes with responsibility, it will come with its own set of challenges, and we are in fact ready for anything and more your hate can dish out.
We have learned through our forefathers that hate does not last, and love, and truth eventually overcome.  You may feel big by attacking us, but with each blow you only strengthen our resolve.  You have bullied our children in schools, attacked our places of worship all in your skewed misinformed and small view of the world.  Yes we look different but we are not foreign to this type of treatment.  Everywhere a Sikh goes they know they stand out, they know their identity comes before all else that is presented about them, and even in the face of extreme intolerance they are willing to not reciprocate the hate but shower love instead.
You think if you intimidate us we will go running ‘back to our country’ as you heckle commonly, however we will not go back but only dig our heals stronger to prove that not only are we not afraid but we have the resolve to overcome your anger.  Our religion provides us the guidance that there is no other, there is no difference, there is no better, there is only divine light which shines in all. 
A Sikhs strength lies in their identity, it goes hand in hand with their existence.  You might use images of the media to shape your world view through the bias lens, but we use spiritual power to shape our resolve.  A Sikh will stay steadfast in a  storm because we know the real battle does not rage externally rather internally is where the conquest really counts. 
My hope is of a better America, where tolerance is not just a word that is thrown around, but actually practiced by every individual.  Where diversity is not seen as a weakness but our core strength and what makes this nation great.  Till then you will never see us hiding, the 'Average Sikh' will be out there with our turbans and beards easy to spot and ready for any challenge that may be presented.

Tuesday, May 05, 2015

Happiness



Today while driving to work I read a very intriguing bumper sticker.  It read: “ It’s never too late to have a happy childhood”.  Needless to say my mind always needs something to ponder and with a 45 minute drive I lowered the news radio I normally listen to and thought about that bumper sticker.  My thoughts quickly drifted to many questions:

What makes me happy?

What is happiness?

How often are we meant to be happy?

Why is happiness so important?

Why is it so difficult to obtain or keep that happy feeling?

As I pondered it, I reflected on the moments in my life that were the happiest.  It was in those times that I really felt alive, that my life felt like it had purpose and meant something.  Happiness defines us, in a way we are exactly what we are happy about.  Our personalities, priorities, time, all is spent to fulfill some sort of happy moment we seek. 

Having young children reminds you of your own childhood, and one of the first things parents begin to understand is how happy children constantly are.  They seek happiness in every moment, this is why they cry easily too, because when they don’t get to their happiness it is devastating.  For them the only expression left if something is not fulfilled is the emotion of crying or throwing a tantrum.  As adults we ‘mature’ in thought and this brings about two fundamental changes in the way we pursue happiness:

1)      We don’t pursue happiness as often – we begin to realize that happiness is not guaranteed, therefore we limit our tries, and we calculate our moves to effectively manage our failures.

2)      We become jaded and less and less disappointed when we don’t get to our happy place – when we don’t get to our happiness we hide our disappointment and emotion with a strong face, or a careless attitude of telling ourselves, we really didn’t want it anyway.

So though we are all constantly seeking happiness, it becomes an elusive element in our lives.  The main effort is not placed on the feeling of being happy but on how we can get there.  Therein lays our problem instead of focusing on the moment of being happy, or in a happy state we begin to tell ourselves, I will be happy when….

We begin to call these, goals, achievements, but we are just masking the truth about setting destinations of happiness.  Of course there is no harm in trying to achieve success and pushing ourselves to become better in whatever realm we deem important, the fault comes because we as humans begin to see those destinations only.  Our happiness is then offset for another time, not the current moment, not every moment we are living, not every experience we are having, but only those we are striving for.

This is the reason children can find happiness in just playing with dirt, they do not care about the end product of playing with that dirt, what they can build with it, or what goal they will achieve after playing with it.  They only care about that moment, about that current state their mind is in, they are doing something they want to do, and to them that is their happy state.  Sadly we begin to live our lives as adults and then we teach our children the same thing that happiness is a destination, not every moment.

In our fears we tell them that happiness is found in success.  In better grades, in being the best at everything, in putting rewards at the end only if certain conditions are met.  You will get ice cream if your room is clean, which means happiness will only come ‘after’ you have achieved some level or satisfied a requirement.

I am about to turn 40 and maybe this is my midlife crisis talking or just my normal insanity.  This whole notion is crap, it’s full of shit, and honestly it makes me sick to know that it’s what we teach our children.  Instead of learning from them, to live each moment and in a constant happy state, we teach them that the happy state will only come if we accomplish something.

Don’t get me wrong I’m not saying we should teach them to be lazy; however there should be rewards, there should be celebrations at random for no other reason than we have that moment.  It would benefit us, and them if we started to take away some of this ‘achievement’ based happiness.  It would benefit us if we ourselves started to enjoy moments of happiness at every breath, not because our goals have been reached, but because we actually have this moment, this particular second in time to let ourselves feel good about our journey at its present state.

I’ll be happy when I get to high school, when I get to the college I want, when my career is set, when I have money, when I have no mortgage, when I retire, when my kids are set, consistently we push our happiness away, instead of embracing it. 

Happiness is not a destination; happiness is in every moment of our journey.  It is in fact our natural state, when we take away judgments about ourselves, or comparisons with others.  When we focus inward, we find that within ourselves there is a treasure of great happiness that we began to ignore when we became ‘adults’ as we matured we buried that treasure even deeper.  We forgot how to look up at the sky and marvel at the clouds, listen to the wonderful sounds of the chirping birds, feel the wonderful/warm the sun rays hitting our face.  We forgot that it is our maturity that causes us strife, our intellect that causes us stress, and most of all our inability to be satisfied with the moment of time we are given, the present, to feel blissful in every situation.  The beauty of life is in every second, and somehow we miss it because our attention is not in that second but some hour/day/year in the future.


Happiness can be found in every breath, moment, touch, glance, and smile, in the simplest and most natural way, all we have to do is stop trying so hard.

Friday, October 31, 2014

SPOTLIGHT PROFILE: GURPREET SINGH – COMING FULL CIRCLE


Photo : Vicky stylin' and profiln'!

My first encounter with Vicky aka Gurpreet was outside of my house on my driveway, it was 2 days after my marriage. Just a little clarification, Vicky is the husband of my younger sister and also the Brother in law of my Cousin brother Raj. So double relation, my first impression of him was he was tall and had a very strong handshake.

As time went on I noticed him at my cousins get togethers (since he was a part of their in-laws) one thing always stuck out that he was the only turbaned guy on their side of the family. Besides hello and hi at family functions I rarely took any time to talk to him and vice versa, he was a very pleasant family oriented guy and always left a good impression on those he knew and didn’t know!

Once we all went to the amusement park together, all extended family and Vicky was also their with Raj and Keenu (Keenu is Raj’s wife). The only thing I shamefully remember is when I saw Vicky in a baseball cap, I called him ‘Topee Vala’, not sure if he remembers this but I do!! It was pretty mean thing to say but sometimes arrogance clouds your judgment, and you judge people on their looks and limited actions.

A few years later, at Gurudwara I saw a guy who looked like Vicky in the langer hall. I thought maybe he had another brother because this guy didn’t have a turban or a beard. I looked more carefully but still couldn’t see that it was him. It wasn’t until one of my cousins told me that that’s Keenu’s brother he cut his hair. At that second my heart sank, all of a sudden I remembered all the times and opportunities I had to talk to him, maybe get to know him or see how he felt about Sikhi, I had past those up, and today he was here in the langar hall with no turban and no beard.

Photo : After he cut his kesh

It's always a sad feeling I get when I see someone let go of their saroop, even if I don’t know them I sometimes feel I lost a close brother. It’s a difficult thing to swallow even though I am open minded and understand everyone has their own path, but when it happens there are some emotions which are triggered. I believe this to be the inherent connection that all Sikhs have with Guru Gobind Singh, this bond is stronger than we know and through that bond we are all connected.

Afterwards I still kept seeing Vicky in family functions and get togethers yet I always imagined him with a turban, I couldn’t take that image out of my head. It was tough at times to see him but after a few times I started handling it better inside myself and came to terms with it.
I am going to skip the part of this story where Pinki and Vicky fell in love, because that is not for me to tell, and on top of it I probably just know very little!

After Pinki and Vicky were close, he started talking to me online. It was there that I felt his strength, his love for Sikhism, it was evident even in our conversations. He shared some deep feelings he had for Sikhi, and eventually I mustered enough courage to ask him why he cut his hair. It was a tough question but after seeing how much love he had for Sikhism it was one that I selfishly asked. To this his reply was on the term of “moment of weakness” or something like that, it was a few years ago so I cant remember the exact quote.

I went to his house a few times, and there I got to know Vicky, and I saw such a beautiful person. He is a huge giant and he has a HUGE heart, and it was at that point that I had accepted him as a better Sikh then I was. He had a passion for Sikhi, for Seva and more over the way he talked he just motivated me to seek more of his sangat. We spent a few weekends together, going to Gurudwaras together, then after wards just going to his apartment for chips and salsa, while we talked. I really hold those days close to heart and as moments in which I gained so much understanding and appreciation for his genuine love towards Sikhi, that inspired me!

I remember one of those weekends we were sitting on the floor at his apartment when he told me that he has decided to keep his kesh again. I don’t have the words to explain the feelings I had at that moment, so I wont even try to express them here!

Photo : Transformation first stage.
Photo : Transformation 2
Photo : Transformation 3
For someone to come full circle it means that they have seen all the sides. I believe that Vicky came full circle with his saroop, from having it and not appreciating it, to losing it, and then coming back even as a stronger Sikh. It is really special to see when a person is transforming into Sikhi saroop; you can actually see the Guru’s light coming through them. As their hair grows, and you see that part of their Sikhi blossom you can only feel blessed to be in their presence. The first day he tied a turban again we went to his house, and took pictures before heading to Gurudwara.

Photo: Comming full Circle, first day wearing Daastar right before Gurudwara
When I look closely at what Vicky has shown, besides courage, besides the humbleness to change and besides the great and deep Sikhi which was inside him, he showed me that Sikhism is not just a state of being, it is an experience. That living even through the tough times when you're down you can actually come back stronger, better, and more dedicated.

BOLE SO NIHAL!!!
SAT SRI AKAL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Photo : I like this one because he looks content, or tired ! lol!

Tuesday, September 30, 2014

You look like God

I walked into Himmats class early and began going through what I was going to talk to the kids about.   His teacher walked in and greeted me she asked me what I would need, I told her just the projector and I would setup the rest myself.  As I began to unpack my laptop for the presentation, the class started to walk in from recess .  I got the normal

 “who are you?”  - I’m Himmats dad
 “Are you HIM MATT’s DAD?”  - Yes I am!
“You have a long beard” – Yes I Do J
Then I heard…..
“You look like God”

I did not know how to respond. So I pretended to ignore it.  I knew the direction from where that comment came but did not know who said it. 

When the presentation began I started with my normal ice breaker jokes, and then I asked the kids what they noticed about me, or what was different.  I have gotten all sorts of answers to this question….from your beard to that thing on your head, to you look like a genie and even some that were brutally honest, you look scary or dangerous!  Anyways I am used to the response that question brings.

Hands immediately went up and the responses came in, all that I had heard before until I called on a little boy to my left.

“You look like God” he said again. 

This time it was in front of the whole KG classes and all the teachers.  I laughed and thanked him, I told him it was the best compliment I had ever received.

Later I thought about that moment, it was a child being totally honest and upfront, but more importantly there was a message.  In our hectic lives and our own small worlds we forget that everyone is in the image of God, that we all have that light inside of us.  Each person has the same worth no matter what their bank account states.  Each person has the same value no matter what family or linage they belong to.  In hustle and bustle we forget the simplest things that in each spirit there is the essence of one.


When is the last time we looked at someone and saw God?  Or told them hey you look like God?  Trust me it’s the best feel good comment you can give someone.  

Friday, April 25, 2014

The Man without a face

There is no opportunity that should be passed up to teach your children. Today at take your kids to work day both Baltej and Himmat accompanied me to my work.  During lunch I decided to take them to the mall of course it was packed in the eatery at lunch.  As I grabbed our food I started looking for a table to sit but could not see one.  I finally spotted a section where there were a few seats empty; it seemed a little odd because of the rush to have so many empty seats in one section.  As we got closer I noticed why, sitting in the middle of the table was a man with a disfigured face.  It seemed like he had been burned or in some sort of serious accident.  He was just sitting there alone both tables next to him were empty.

I quickly walked toward the table that was closest to him. I had Baltej take the seat right next to him and Himmat right next to Baltej.  I sat facing the man and said hello, he nodded his head.  Baltej kept staring at his face, I reminded him its rude to stare (the perks of knowing a second language!).  Soon the kids were buried in their food and I noticed the man looking over and smiling at their silly questions and conversation.  I also noticed Baltej glancing over and sneaking some peaks of the man.  He was done eating but just sat there and listened, at first I thought he was waiting for someone, but that was not the case.

He observed us and as I answered some of their funny questions I noticed him laughing.  Nobody else occupied the table on the other side of him, even though it was fully crowded during the lunch rush.  While I was looking down at my food Baltej tipped his milk over and it all spilled on Himmat’s shirt, pants and shoes.  I quickly got Himmat to stand up but he started crying very loudly saying its cold and Baltej did it on purpose.  I only had about 3 napkins and as I was wiping Himmat down the man next to us quickly grabbed some napkins and handed them to me.  I thanked him and he smiled, he told Himmat it was an accident so he would stop crying.  

The man could barely speak clearly.  After I calmed Himmat down and we started eating again he began to have a conversation with us.  He said he loved the fact that Baltej was eating with his hands and he did the same when he was his age.  He asked them what sports they like to play and what other foods they liked.  I noticed Baltej begin to open up to the man and the kids were also laughing at his questions.  After a small conversation the man finally got up and started to leave.  After he left I told the boys that everyone is the same on the inside, no matter how they look we should never judge them from the outside. It’s a simple lesson but one I felt really hit home because of that man.  He really didn’t have a face but inside he was just like them and then I told them look at the table next to him nobody was sitting there he was sitting all alone, and its our job to make sure nobody feels left out.  Baltej smartly remarked is that what a good Sikh is supposed to do?  I told him yes, more importantly that’s what a good human is supposed to do.

Tuesday, April 01, 2014

The Right Parent at the Right Time

There are many things in life that are tough, but I have not come across anything yet that is tougher than being a parent.  This is my third time and you would think one would have things figured out, but no, there is no experience that can prepare you for different personalities.  Each child is different each unique and for that reason all the strategies that may have worked before do not apply.  You are constantly reinventing things and trying to control something that seems uncontrollable.

To add to complications you yourself are not perfect, something you are reminded of constantly as a parent.  There are expectations you have for them that even you did not fulfill yourself!  There are things you don’t really want to enforce but have to because it’s your job.  Not wanting to be the bad guy or the hated personality you take on this role just for the sake of what you think may be better for the children. 

There is no exact science, books are written parents talk about experiences, heck there are even seminars you can attend which teach you how to deal with this new role.  But nothing can really prepare you for the daily challenges internal and external you will face.   Nothing can prepare you for the love and overwhelming emotions you feel when you see them smile or cry.  Nothing can prepare you for the way you feel when you punish them even against your own desire.  Nothing can prepare you for any of this; even having this experience several times it is new every day.

Normal things you can master in one or two attempts, if you are slow it will take you three, but eventually you understand logically how to approach challenges.  This challenge is something that constantly morphs, they are changing, they are growing you are also changing, yet one thing is constant, you are the guide, you are the one responsible, and so you have the stress to make this work.

It can be difficult from the most complex to the most simple situations.  Last night I put the boys to bed, which in and of itself is like corralling a herd of unwilling mischievous and energetic creatures.  There are routine things that need to get done like the bath, brushing, flossing (or they tell the dentist I don’t help them floss!) and changing into night suits, to the unscheduled challenges like breaking up a fight on who sat on the toilet first when both of them are pants around knees half sitting on it.  

From all directions your energy gets drained, yet you have to maintain composure, you have to still have enough in your mind to come up with a bed time story that will satisfy them.  After all the pushing, pulling, begging threatening and debating how many stuffed animals they will get to sleep with,  finally they are both in bed.  I make up fake animals and give them names which sound ridiculous, and make them do human like activities, and not just a simple story will do…it needs to be a full production with character development, a challenge, and then somehow overcoming that challenge by these characters.  Oh it cannot be short either, if it’s too short it is met with “That’s it?”  “That was too short” type heckles at the end.

After the story which uses every creative cell in my brain I breathe a sigh of relief 'whew all done'.  I move the what seems like 20 stuffed animals they have in-between them and kiss them good night.  Triumphant I walk away from their room to bury myself in some mindless TV and/or very mindful conversation with the wife (yes she reads this blog too).  After about an hour and half as I am relaxing on the sofa browsing Netflix I hear some noises coming from the kids room.  Immediately I think its 9:30pm and they are STILL awake.  I get up and walk towards their room putting on my MAD Parent mindset, WHY ARE THEY AWAKE on a school night this late? 

As I enter the room I see they have constructed a very impressive fortress.  Using the comforters and the bunk bed they created a tent and pretty much blocked out all access to the outside except for a few small cracks between the pillows and the stuffed animals they are using as walls, light is shining into the dark room and then I see it go off as they realize I had opened the door.  There is complete silence, I go over and look inside this makeshift ‘tent’ and see both of them, the older one has laid down and tightly closing his eyes and the younger one apparently forgot to lay down and is sitting up flashlight in hand with his eyes closed, as if that would fool me!  For a second I think how awesome it is to be a kid, to enjoy this ‘tent’ and this game, they even had managed to find a flashlight from my office and sneak it in to their beds like contraband.  I admired the creativity it took to create the tent, and how painstakingly difficult it must have been to do this all in stealth, knowing a parent could walk in anytime and ‘catch’ them doing something they were not supposed to do. 

For those few seconds I want to be a kid, just like them.  I wish I could join them and sit in their tent and tell stories and joke about something gross like ‘potty’ or ‘farts’.   Then there is the parent side that turns on that tells me to make a lesson out of this, to make sure they understand that they must be in bed at a certain time or they will have a difficult time functioning in the morning.  That parent wants to punish them to make sure that this never happens again.  As I am wrestling these roles in my mind Ive found that there is no right way to respond.  I am in a space where I cannot become that kid, nor can I become that parent, I don’t want to be either because both don’t fit my exact feeling.  I am somewhere in-between, I want to teach them not to do this during bed time, but I also want them to be children to have these exciting moments and to not stifle their creative spirit, that is in essence the truest challenge for every parent. 

It is not that we don’t want to do our job, or know how to do it, it is balancing that job with some reason and logic which provides a positive landscape for developing minds.  Every parent has the same dilemma how to make a human who is better than themselves, who does not have the same weaknesses, or insecurities.  So we hide ours, we try to be or act like that person that we want our children to be yet in this act the kids just see our hypocrisy as we all did with our parents.  We saw stubbornness, and lack of reason, or ability to enjoy life.  With these thoughts I’ve come to a conclusion or somewhat of a defeat, you have three kids and you realize there is only so much one can do.   I don’t want to create a better versions of myself anymore in them, I just want them to a better version of themselves.  There is not much I can do besides provide unconditional love, I can guide but I cannot drive.  I can nudge but I cannot force, nothing positive will come out of something negative.  Of course there are moments I remember this, and there are many more moments that I forget!

So with these thoughts instead of BLASTING them for defying their bed time, being sneaky rascals and creating mischief when they should have been asleep, using an LED flashlight that could BLIND them if they look into it.  I calmly took down the comforter they were using as the tent and said, this is an awesome tent, it’s actually the RIGHT tent, just at the wrong time. 

Being a parent is easy, but being the right parent, at the right time, is probably the most difficult thing in the world.