Searching For True Loves

That 'Loves' in the headline is not a typo. The current trend in the self-help literature, especially by and for women, is the idea that a single romantic partner need not fulfill all your emotional and physical needs. It doesn't advocate polyamory although I imagine it is not necessarily opposed it. It is more the idea that one can have more than one soulmate and the soulmates can be of any age or gender. The aim is to build a cocoon of emotional support to weather this crazy world. The job that was once done by one's extended family/village/community--networks that one was automatically a part of--has to be done by other people now. And, if you don't find that one person to do the job, you should cast your net wider.

While most of this literature is by and for young women, who face much more pressure than single men to couple up, especially in India, it resonates with me as well. I believe we all have so many strands to our personalities that to expect someone to come along and embrace all those strands is a tall ask. Have you ever had a close friend who has another close friend whom you are completely indifferent to? You keep asking yourself "How can they be such good friends, what does he/she see in him/her?" I think it is because you have embraced one aspect of their personhood while this other person whom you don't get along with has embraced another. You are all like overlapping circles. So searching for a romantic and sexual partner who is also your best friend is like searching for a circle that is congruent to your own--the same size, colour, texture, etc. And you if you are wedded to this idea, you might try to squeeze your circle to fit someone else's, which I  don't think is a good thing (I  notice that I am sliding towards innuendo territory, so I am going to stop now.)

On a related note, I keep getting asked if I have made friends in Bristol and my answer is always that it depends on how you define friendship. So the logical question is "how do I define friendship?" (although no one has asked me). Quite simply, someone you don't need to think about twice about reaching out to. You don't have to think about whether too little or too much time has passed since you last talked, whether you are being a "burden" on them, what will they think, whether they will think you are romantically interested in them, etc. Within this circle of friends, you can have a wide variety of people--confidants, counsellors, people who light you up, make you mellow, contemplative. I am extremely fortunate to have such people in my life. Some people in my family are also in this group, but I will talk about them in a separate post.

Modern Love

I discovered New York Times' Modern Love column around the end of last year. It describes itself as a collection of stories about the joys and tribulations of love, and not just romantic love. Some of the stories really resonated with me and the personal situation I was going through at the time. But, this post is about personal essays, or rather the difference between personal essays and therapeutic writing. All the modern love columns I have read so far were very emotional and most of  them had a lot of angst in them. Loneliness, grief, heartbreak, guilt were in abundance. But, angst by itself isn't very interesting. To write a personal essay, one has to move beyond angst. If the angst is overwhelming it is probably better to opt for therapeutic writing (or other forms of therapy) instead of writing a personal essay. Or at least wait for the angst to  subside enough that you can step outside of it and look at it somewhat dispassionately. Many of the essayists waited for years after a particular incident or episode to write about it in their essays, possibly as time and space can give you a better perspective.

The reason that stories about angst are usually boring is because there is little in it for other people. Most people have enough angst in their own lives to desire to wallow in that of others. Your description of your angst may chime with someone, as a result of which they might feel less alone. That can be valuable, and I don't want to dismiss this possibility. But for it appeal to people that are not going through the exact same thing that you are, there needs to be something more. If one can write about the journey from angst to a better place (which is not freedom from angst but a new perspective on it) then it has lessons for other people. It is good to learn from the angst of others instead of trying to learn everything from your own angst.

Of course, angst can be beautiful too, but only in art. Some novels and poems bring tears to my eyes, not because they are sad (which they are) but because they are beautiful.  

Hygge

Apparently, the oh-so-perfect also have a strategy for coping with  the winter blues. It is a concept called 'hygge' (pronounced hooga) which means warmth, coziness, intimacy. Basically, living in tune with the season and allowing life to slow during the long winters. There is also a social aspect to it and the best way to hygge is to surround yourself with dear ones for long intimate chats. In principle, it sounds like a great way to fight the winter doldrums, better than sun-lamps and wine.

But, for me, the efficacy of hygge would depend on two things--place and company. It is one thing to hygge if you are in a cozy house with a fire place and a large window looking out on to a nice garden. If you are in a cheerless terraced apartment with a window that looks out onto even less cheery apartments, more difficult. Also, if you lack company, cozy solitude can turn into aching loneliness surprisingly quickly. 

What is really working for me are the good old-fashioned remedies--physical activity and good music. I have started doing yoga after returning from uni instead of in the mornings to keep myself active during the long dark evenings. And, it seems to be working.

Knowing Versus Feeling

My first post had a quote about how there can be no knowledge without emotion. Today, that rang true again. As I was trying to think of what to write today I came across my ideapad on my phone. For a while now, I have been in the habit of jotting down ideas on my phone so that I don't forget them. When a idea strikes, it is usually so strong that you feel like it is impossible to forget. But, it evaporates from your mind just as easily.
So, as I was going through my ideapad I was struck by how similar my old ideas are to my new ones. I thought the past year and a half has made me wiser, but it is amazing how little my thinking has changed. What has changed is that I have felt many of the truths that I knew before. For a truth that you might have arrived at through intellectual labour to become your truth, you have to feel it. And, that makes all the difference. It can be incredibly frustrating to know a truth and not feel it. 

Chronic Pain

A few days ago, a fellow PhD student was talking about how his roommate has chronic back pain, which has been diagnosed as being in his head. To which another student responded that chronic pain has a physical element which is amplified by psychology to the extent that it becomes a primarily psychological condition.

I have been interested in the mind-body connection for a while now although I haven't done any serious reading on it. However, I have sufficient personal experience to write about it.

I believe the mind and the body are not a dichotomy but a continuum, so that it is impossible to say where the mind ends and the body begins.  Most disease falls somewhere on that continuum but rarely at either end. Someone who hasn't suffered depression or anxiety would probably be surprised by the physicality of both conditions. How crappy someone suffering from them feels physically, with the mind and body each competing with each other to drag the person down. In fact, people suffering from depression often run from pillar to post of the medical world trying to get a diagnosis for their condition. Some physical conditions are telltale signs of mental unease--light-headedness, unsettled but not upset stomach, insomnia. 

But coming back to the mind-body connection, I am reading a book which talks about how babies initially do not see themselves as separate from the world. It is only with the  development of the Ego, the 'I', that the growing baby starts seeing the world as separate from her, as something external to her. 

Similarly, I suppose the idea that the body is separate from the mind, with the latter directing the former, is a very modern notion. I don't know enough psychology  or philosophy to talk about consciousness but I suppose that has something to do with it (the good thing about a personal blog,  especially a little-read one, is that you don't have to worry about saying something stupid).

Of course, telling someone that their physical condition has a psychological root is not helpful to that person. It is only telling them 'I can't help you'. In any case, depression and anxiety are as bespoke as fingerprints.

Love Actually

When I wrote about the guilt-free enjoyment of movies, I also thought of movies I do feel guilty for  having enjoyed initially but don't any more. The movie I was thinking about was 'Love Actually', particularly the thread with Keira Knightley and her husband's best man, who is secretly in love with her. His behaviour is downright creepy--filming her on the sly, turning up at her doorstep and telling her to keep his presence secret from her husband before talking to her through posters as Christmas carols play in the background. The lovelorn nice guy who accepts that he can never be with the woman he loves with dramatic grace. It also chimes with a popular Bollywood trope of the lovesick male who soaks his sorrows in alcohol while singing sad songs about lost love. Romanticizing thwarted love and the resulting melancholy, essentially.

What I didn't get at the time was the extent to which the thread was centered around the man and his feelings without a concern for the women's safety and autonomy. Yes, it is possible to love someone who doesn't love you back. But, it is unacceptable to stalk that person as a way of coping with your feelings. From personal experience, in such a situation, you do your best to move on, not build creepy monuments to her. Rejection is a bitter pill to swallow but everyone has to to deal with it some time or the other. As harsh as it sounds, your rejection is not special. So instead of saying how much he loved her even though he knows they can't be together, he should have apologized her for sneakily filming her at her own wedding. But, of course, that wouldn't have made for great TV. Instead, you  have a movie that tells young men that it is okay to stalk someone who rejects you as long as you are a "nice guy". That  romanticizes rejection instead of normalizing it.

Masculinity

Why is it so hard for men to talk to each other? By talk, I don't mean banter, I mean share. And I'm not even talking about blokey  alpha males. I am talking about progressive, sensitive, feminist men, a group which I would like to believe I belong to and which I am sure my close male friends belong to.

Most of my close friends are women. I have male close friends whom I feel comfortable sharing (most of) my deepest darkest secrets with. But, we  mostly talk  about "intellectual" stuff like politics or current affairs, or we gossip. When the shit hits the fan, I mostly turn to my female friends. One of my close male friends also has a band of female friends with whom he has a very touchy-feely but completely platonic relationship with. He sees them every week and spends hours with each of them. Even I would be much more comfortable spending hours with one of my female friends than my male ones.

Maybe it is do with benign masculinity, the less harmful cousin of toxic masculinity. Even if my friends and I reject toxic masculinity, we cannot completely escape its grasp. We might be comfortable with our masculinity and feel secure about it. But, it is still difficult for us to imagine that there are other men like us. We fill a tinge of shame in showing other men what kind of men we are even though our thinking mind knows that these men are just like us in temperament. 

The other day a female friend read this blog and told me I am full of mush. I cringed so hard my neck started to ache. 

But I have also had the good fortune of meeting positive male role models. Like a guy who was on a group trek with me recently. He was one of those people who is bursting with life, lapping up everything that life has to offer without shame or guilt. Handsome, a proud ballet dancer who would do leg splits at the drop of a hat, a good singer, a good mimic. And, he wasn't effeminate in his mannerisms. (Of course, there is nothing wrong with an guy being effeminate. I merely mention this because it was one of his qualities that I could relate to). An exemplary person. One day, we were sitting next to each other in the mess tent with a few others and he  casually propped himself up one elbow with his torso on my lap. He asked me if that was okay, and I replied in the affirmative. It felt like the most natural thing in the world. (On an aside, bodies transmit intentions very accurately. A lewd touch is hard to mask, even if the body part that is touched is not strictly off limits.) Another positive male role model for masculinity is my father. But I will save him for another post.

But, I realize that men who are good-looking or charming or brilliant or successful or  most of the above can get away with having more "feminine" than masculine qualities without being scorned. Less fortunate men can't. So-called feminine qualities such as kindness, sensitivity, compassion and being soft-spoken are the icing on the cake, not the cake itself. We are still far away from a world in which those feminine qualities are not the sideshow, but the main attraction.