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Observations on Human Connection & Contribution

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#126: Purring our way to strength

I woke up today in a deeply satisfying cat hug. My cat had installed herself on my pillow overnight, and I hugged her as I slept. As I woke up to this realization, I couldn’t help but move my hands through her silky smooth fur. Her softness is quite addictive and I have to make an effort to tone it down and not escalate the pressure, especially in response to that cute purring. So she purred and I cuddled…and the purrs became louder and consistent, like the engine of an idling SUV.

Then a forgotten fact popped into my head: cats purr for many reasons, including contentment, communication, and even to self-soothe during stressful moments. The frequencies at which they purr (25-150 hertz) are similar to the frequencies used to treat bone fractures, pain, and joint flexibility issues in humans. The thinking is that purring helps cats self-heal in similar ways.

So does this mean the more I love and cuddle with my cat, the better she can heal herself? My hugs, kisses, snuggles and squeezes make her stronger? It’s not so hard to believe, because it’s certainly true for humans.*

Another thing I notice with her: she only purrs when I give her high quality attention. It doesn’t happen when I’m multitasking. If I try to read or watch something while playing with her, her initial reactions are more muted and then she completely tunes me out. She only responds when my words, play and touch are in lockstep with her.

When I miss her subtle cues, she realizes that I’m not with her and in turn loses interest. Again, not so different from humans.

“Love is a canvas furnished by nature and embroidered by imagination.” ― Voltaire, French philosopher and writer

*People with healthy relationships and strong social connections tend to live longer and healthier lives; more here.

**Happy love day, to my Tim ― co-purrer, co-cuddler, and co-imagineer

#121: Internal alchemy

It was my birthday this week, so I had an in-built opportunity to reflect on my life as I start another trip around the sun.

My experience of being me has silently shifted in the last few years. There is a part of me that holds back on doing the things I love because they feel selfish at some level. Engaging with them requires shifting focus away from something that I believe is serving others towards something that only seems to benefit me. This includes physical, creative and intellectual activities like swimming, dancing, traveling to a culture I really want to experience, or immersing myself in a book; instead of working, doing chores, or helping someone.

Until a few years ago I was mostly unaware that this internal dynamic was at play. I simply prioritized things that made life feel more secure in some way for myself or another. There are many psychological layers here and my goal isn’t to dive deep into them. The gist is that this suppression of self was immensely detrimental to my own well-being and my ability to contribute to others. I recall feeling little resonance with the life I was creating and how I was using time in my everyday. I remember thinking that I didn’t feel like myself, dress like myself or look like myself. I felt lonely but wasn’t sure why. I felt like something had gone wrong but I didn’t know what.  

In 2020, I started tapping into the ideas that spoke to me. I then started pursuing the activities and interests that drew me in. My everyday thoughts and actions started mirroring my deepest curiosities, interests and aspirations; creating a uniquely personal constellation within which my days started nesting and sprouting.

Over the last few weeks I’ve realized that doing this has literally produced energy within myself. I’ve noticed an increase in my mental energy for attention, absorption and problem solving; in my emotional energy for joy, resilience, and navigating change; and my physical energy for movement and recovery. And then there is the profound spiritual energy of connection: to self, to others, to all of nature’s cyclical patterns. With all these energies finally at concurrent play within me, I feel more integrated, well-resourced and joyful. My psyche doesn’t feel so fragmented. I don’t feel the need to chase every shiny object or idea. I know what I am made for and what I am not made for. My internal curiosities and nudges have led me to a level of self-knowledge I didn’t have before. This loving connection to self isn’t selfish. It is freeing, stabilizing, nurturing and joyful. It is the definition of thriving.

And I am better able to contribute to others from this place of thriving.

“This is an invitation to join your life.
Without fear or bravado.

No performance or perfection, bring the real you.
Imperfect. Evolving. Fully here.

Like a gangly wildflower, root into who you are.
Then show up for other wildflowers, just as they are.

Each of us different and unique.
Fully growing and glowing.

Just like plants.
We root down to rise up.
Whatever that means uniquely for each of us.

Underneath the surface, we are holding hands.
Reaching out and reaching back.
Feels like another’s hand is on our back.

To create societies that come alive.
Touch this invitation to join your life.

Join. Your one life.”

— Suparna Chhibber
     Written in 2021, as I was starting to tap into myself

Photo credit: Suparna, using DALL.E

#118: Let it flow

Guidance on imagination and creativity is often designed to help us unblock what’s already there within. We are nudged to trust ourselves, tune into our unique expression and—bit by bit—let go of the debilitating psychic poisons we’ve accumulated over time. These could be unkind words or harsh circumstances that left an imprint and now bottle us up when all we really want to do is flow more freely.

You might be thinking this doesn’t apply to you, but think again. I’ve had to bust some of my own creativity misconceptions over the last few months. Here are a few:

  • I’m not an artist so this doesn’t apply to me: Creativity and imagination aren’t just for people whose professional bios include the term “artist”. They are our resting state as living beings. Have breath = will create. Whatever we see out in the world, even the most analytical and left-brain activities are born out of someone’s imagination and creative action. It’s easier to apply ideas around creativity to Hollywood than it is to companies listed on S&P 500 but Tesla prototypes, Chat GPT and annual business plans involve countless people embracing possibility and their creative expression.
  • I don’t hold back, look at all the chances I’ve taken in life: I’ve taken some big detours and gone against the grain at pretty much every turn in life, but I still hold back in many ways. I notice it’s easier to hold back as I gain more life experience. Unlike plants and animals that can’t help but evolve into their next iteration, my intellect gets in the way of creating. It tries to protect me by nudging me to “please be quiet” or offering an even more insidious “not yet”. The mind very easily takes over the pure, joyful and messy acts of creation.
  • But…I create art so freely!: We live contextual lives. I may be very free playing with watercolors but when things really count, like in my work, do I really let it rip? I feel the need to have my act together before I allow creativity to shine through. I over-strategize at the expense of joy and flow. The grownup me thinks the childlike me is wasting time when it’s actually deep in problem-solving mode. The play we do in low-stakes spaces doesn’t always translate into behavior in high-stakes spaces. Bringing joy into serious, grownup workspaces is challenging work. Creativity wants us to be ok with messy first and fifth drafts, and the doodles in the margins they come with.
  • I don’t think I’m afraid of what others think, I like people: If joy unlocks creative expression, trust keeps it going. I may like people but creative blossoming needs a specific type of incubation. The work starts in the dark and ideally sees light progressively. We first share it with trusted others who understand us emotionally and the work practically. They share honest, generous and kind feedback with the sole objective of making the work more potent. Such combination and input is a gift, and an important part of the process because it fertilizes our vision and confidence. We then need to share the work more broadly. This is by far the scariest part of the process, because some of the broader audience will not be kind. But we have to share because nothing of consequence takes life without seeing light. As simple as that. We will get injured and when we do, we’ll have to find ways to recover quickly, otherwise we’ll circle back up to point #2 above and start holding back.

Creativity takes us to our existential core: What am I here to contribute? Will it be of any value? What if I totally butcher it…will they laugh at me, ignore me, hate me?

We can’t wish these questions away. They probably come up for everyone at some point. We can only do them away. Notice them and do, notice and do, notice and do and their self-protective hold weakens in time. Especially when we see that these doubts are choking all the joy inside. Let it flow and maybe then it’ll start gushing out.

“Everyone is born a genius, but the process of living de-geniuses them.”— Richard Buckminster Fuller: architect, systems theorist, inventor, philosopher, writer and futurist.

PS: Highly recommend the Artist’s Way by Julia Cameron for creative recovery.

#114: Recalibrating the everyday mundane

I find it easier to notice and make space for the big events in life vs. the everyday mundane. I found it easier to line up my attention with intention, and my actions with hopes when I was planning to relocate to a different country, give a job interview, or build exciting new friendships.

It’s the everyday mundane that trips me up. Where I find it harder to see how my current level of attention and action might support larger intentions and hopes. It’s harder to see how my small silent actions will add up over time. Harder to see how that one missed walk with a friend will turn into weeks, months, then years of not seeing her. How long work hours and missed workouts will turn into muscle tightness and loss of flexibility. That a weekly yoga practice will create unexpected strength for heavy gardening. That the sweetest friendship will turn into a life-nurturing marriage. That a few gangly flowers will fill the yard with blazing color all summer.

Culturally too, it feels easier to acknowledge our big visible moments of joy, loss and growth compared to the everyday delight, grief or momentum we silently gather in our pockets. We tend to acknowledge the small moments as children, and for children, but it peters out as we grow. First externally and then even internally. Yet, our experience of life—which is very subjective—is shaped by the ever-flowing quieter experiences.

A moment of misdirected volcanic-anger at a loved one followed by a vulnerable and healing conversation can be as much of a life-changer as seeing someone we love after years. Friendships lost to distance and repeated moves can be as hard on us as breakups. The slow buildup of a beloved new skill as an adult can be as delightful as painting our first full watercolor image as a child. But we’ve internalized the message that experiences capturable by cameras are the ones we should seek.

When driving, we’re only able to notice the big trees and not the small wildflowers. Speed and distance make it hard. That’s modern life in a nutshell. It feels as if we’re being forced to drive through life faster and faster. For this experience to be checked-off so we can jump into the next. It takes some practice, but we can step out of this car and walk amidst the fragrance and thorns. Into the messy field where our joy, creativity and wisdom live.

“Instructions for living a life. Pay attention. Be astonished. Tell about it.”— Mary Oliver, Poet

#111: Making our physical lives more magnetic

I didn’t grow up with internet and didn’t have my own computer until I moved to the States. I remember writing physical letters not out of novelty but out of need. I remember using calling cards to connect with my family in India, and how distant their voices and lives felt. So I immensely value our abundance of tools and technology; and the ease and opportunity they’ve created in our personal, work and social lives. Every part of my life feels more expansive and fluid than it might have been without these tools. I can safely say that I find this tech-supported bounty undeniably magnetic.

And no matter what side of the tech debate you favor, one thing we can all likely agree on is that the massive leaps underway in computing will make our online lives even more expansive and magnetic: whether it takes the shape of generative AI, quantum computing, Apple’s mixed reality headset or something else. There are plenty of thoughtful perspectives out there on the potential and peril of these technologies so my goal isn’t to probe those here. I want to examine our physical and offline lives a bit.

Most of us already tend to live in and through our intellect, and away from our bodies. Our days pull us deeper and deeper into the mind. We read, write, process information, create and communicate ideas, and have conversations. On turbulent and busy days, we hold our breath, clench our jaw, forget to drink water, and don’t move our bodies. When we don’t have time and mental space to tune-in to the body, we very easily tune out. I’ve lived for years in this tuned-out way. In fact so tuned out from the body that injuries and harmful habits went completely unnoticed even when my body―my precious earthly home―sent me the strongest signals it possibly could. Injuries, aches, lack of sleep, stress-eating and workaholism went easily ignored and suppressed for years. Similarly, it has taken years of patient and countercultural practice to learn to hear my body speak, to step out of the fertile world of my mind and into the awe-inspiring world of my body and physical senses.

Our upcoming innovations will cut two ways: they will make our online world more magnetic and attractive, and our offline one feel more tedious and boring by comparison. They will make it easier to forget that we are living organisms with built-in barometers that not only help us survive but thrive. That our bodies are a source of exploration, understanding, connection, and joy. That they deserve respect as the most sophisticated technology ever made. That unlike the online world, our bodies ping in more subtle, nuanced and easily missed ways. 

Our human future depends entirely on us being able to create a physical life that is way more magnetic than the online one.

“Boredom, rooted in a fundamental discomfort with the self, is one of the least tolerable mental states.”― Gabor Maté, physician and author specializing in treatment of addiction.

From the book― In the Realm of Hungry Ghosts: Close Encounters with Addiction