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Hymn For My Soul

T. SHER SINGH

 

 

 

DAILY FIX

Thursday, May 31, 2012

 

 

Sing a hymn for my soul
Stand by me as I grow old ...

       [from a song by Joe Cocker]

 

They say, if you let the universe know what you desire, the universe then conspires to make it happen.

Well, that was not in my mind when I wrote the following piece three years ago.

*   *   *   *   *   

This is a landmark year for me. At the end of the summer, on 9/11 to be exact, I turn 60.

I have no idea why, but I seem to like the idea and am looking forward to it.

Ever since I turned 59, I've been puzzled by my enthusiasm and have pondered over it from time to time.

Maybe because it's something one's been waiting for all of one's life. You know you're going to hit it sooner or later, but it's always on the horizon ... always in sight, but beyond reach.

And now, I'm almost there!

Or is it that, in a day and age when ‘old' really doesn't get into gear until you're 80, the milestone of ‘60' marks the end of youth and the beginning of middle-age?

And does that mean that I can finally indulge in an official mid-life crisis, something eccentric and foolish and extravagant, and be forgiven for it with a shrug of the shoulders, a sad shake of the head, and a gentle tsk-tsk?

But that wouldn't work, because I've been in crisis mode all of my life.

When I turned 10, I decided I'd had enough, and took on my class-bully and injured him enough to have him keep away for ever thereafter.

When I turned 20, I upped and moved all the way from India to Canada

When I turned 30, I dropped everything and went to law school, with a 2-year old daughter in tow!

When I turned 40, I fled the big city and settled in a small town, where everything is "five minutes away".

When I turned 50, I confronted my life-long struggle with vertigo - by taking a tour of the moon-scape in Cappadocia, in a balloon! Then, allowed myself to be flung through space over Venezuela in an ultra-lite plane, a contraption consisting of a bunch of sticks held together with a few wires! And then, switched my brain off again, and willingly submitted to being buffeted around in a para-sail, a 1000 ft above the terra firma in Mexico. [Never again, any of this, I've promised myself!]

Approaching 60, I've already closed down my 20-year old law-practice and hung-up my briefs ... for good!

I've pulled out of the rat-race, and decided to do something completely different. I've turned my priorities topsy-turvy.

Health, not wealth, is the all-important goal now.

Next, I've turned to things I really want to do, as full-time pursuits. I figure I do not want to let the tail wag the dog anymore. No, I don't wake up in the morning to make money any more. No, I am not willing to spend my life preparing for retirement.

Since I'm lucky enough to be alive at this juncture, I think it is time to live. It is no longer good enough to slave all year, and then take a few weeks off for a vacation to charge your batteries. Charge them for what? - to go back to the grind?

I am now learning the lost art of wasting time. To be useless. I've had enough of usefulness for a lifetime. And work - for the sake of work, the so-called 'work ethic' - is, believe me, over-rated.

So, I now write full-time, and do things that give me satisfaction and pleasure. Or things that I feel are truly meaningful. Things that will do more than just put bread and butter on the table.

I walk and I hike. I write. I read. I study. I research. I contemplate. I edit. And, I learn to do new things with this extraordinary thing, the computer.

I am even doing a class on painting. Three hours every week, I lose myself in oils and canvas. It's therapeutic like nothing else is ... for three hours, the world disappears.

I've tried to learn Mandarin. Had fun. Hope to go back to it some time.

I did a course in Spanish. Loved it ... and have forgotten it all already. It was fun doing it, that's all.

Only a few weeks ago, at the turn of the year, I sat down and did my annual introspection and retrospection:

Made a list of the ten best things I thought I had done or achieved during the preceding twelve months. And then, made a list of the ten best things I thought I had done or achieved in my lifetime, to date. And then, a list of ten things I would like to do or achieve most in the coming twelve months.

I laid the three lists side by side, and compared them and analyzed them.

And I liked what I saw.

I've lived a blessed life, with more than my fair share of gifts, most of them undeserved windfalls.

I pored down the lists and marvelled at my good fortune:

Loving parents. Education. A wonderful childhood.

Fortunate to be born in a rich culture, and instilled with values and traditions of an extraordinary heritage.

The aura of Sikhi, handed down to me at birth, with no price or burden attached. It keeps on growing and growing, with no expectation of merit or achievement. The bulwark of Faith ... unwavering, unfaltering, unshakeable, through thick and thin.

Extricated from a sad country and plunked into the most civilized place on earth - not a perfect land, but the best one I have seen in a lifetime of travel.

The joy of fatherhood and the love of a caring daughter.

A satisfying career, and a noble profession. And the gift of seva.

All the wealth I needed, all the luxuries I could handle.

Love of words ... and of the Word.

Honour and accolades galore, coupled with the ability to keep my feet on the ground through it all. And then, an even greater gift: dishonour - albeit unexpected, undeserving, unfair - and the strength and humility to take it with equal aplomb.

Let me pause here and explain:

Honour, during the youthful years: it encouraged me, gave me self-esteem and confidence. Made me brave. Kept me busy. I enjoyed it, appreciated it through every moment of it, and was eternally grateful.

But it fed the ego, and became distracting.

I prayed for release, without knowing from what, or how.

And it came. Through the gift of dishonour.

And miracle of miracles, it came to add to my life, not take away from it. In a single, fell swoop, I was relieved of all of my burdens ...

Burnt out, I had voluntarily closed my practice, having long decided to move on from a life steeped in Law. And then, out of the blue, came an allegation ...

I learnt to embrace it - even though it was unexpected, undeserved, unfair - having already let go the accoutrements of fame and fortune.

I now had all the time in the world to do what I wanted to do. I realized that nothing I had was earned, thus beginning a long-overdue, long-needed wrestle with the ego.

While honour had somehow become a burden, its opposite - dishonour is the right word - truly came as a gift.

It taught me patience. Contentment. Compassion. Forgiveness. An understanding of what was really important in life, and a letting go of things that weren't.

And, it weeded out false friends who quickly found excuses and scattered to the winds. On the other hand, true friends stayed steadfast, nay, came closer.

And, I grew closer to my family. The love of my daughter, now 30, remains my greatest joy.

I look at the three lists and realize that I have received, through my life, every opportunity I had ever dreamt of, and more.

I always wanted to travel ... "like water". And did, to the most interesting and far-flung nooks and crannies of the globe. Now, five decades of intense travel later, gone is the hunger to roam, though the pleasure of travel remains. Age has brought contentment.

And all the things that gave me so much joy:

University, over and over again. Law. Writing. Publishing. Public Speaking. A string of loving and joyous relationships. Friendships. A stable life, full of challenges and interesting times - in the best meaning of the words.

My needs have shrunk. I look at all the material things I own and now know that almost all of them are unnecessary. Some I will keep because luxury is addictive, comfort a dependency. But, one by one, they are all becoming dispensable.

Is this freedom?

Most of all, today I feel as loved as always, surrounded by those who are loving and giving and who seek nothing in return. And, joy of joys, I love those who surround me.

Is there more to life?

I can expect the inevitable, of course. The ominous words of Baba Farid will acquire real meaning. The flesh will mature ... and ripen. It's a race against time from here on.

You know, I think I'm ready for my next adventure!

*   *   *   *   *

As I said at the outset, some beileve that if you tell the universe what you want, it then gets busy and, step by step, makes it happen.

I'm not sure what I had in mind when I wrote the words above.

Less than a year later, I ended up doing something I hadn't imagined I would do, at least at this stage in my life, in my wildest of dreams: I moved an hour north into a small village of 5000.

My next adventure had indeed begun, almost on cue ... in Mount Forest. 

 

First published: February 3, 2009. Revised, May 31, 2012

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