False Emotion Appearing Real - FEAR

False Emotion Appearing Real - FEAR
Something my sister told me once, I don't know where she heard it, however it was her response to me expressing insecurities. She helped me through the process explaining that it's in my mind and not true, and once I realized that I was free. I was not captured by my own fear.

Truly what do we fear, it is an emotional reaction to help us preserve our selves, often unfounded. We make ourselves believe things, and we begin to protect ourselves. That could be good or bad, but realizing the process of this (metacognition) is utterly valuable, for it then opens doorways which we otherwise would not have been able to cross.

My fear: climbing. And yes I am a climber.
Every time I am up there, the fear that I will fall clutches at me. I can't make a difficult move, I over analyze it. I stop trying, because I am too busy thinking, and my hands begin to sweat, my mind thinks, ' now i will definitely slip and fall'... the circle of fear begins. The whole time I know that my belayer has me, and I truly have nothing to worry about. We check the gear, we double checked everything, so this fear is for the sake of fearing? Silly me.
I am working hard on mentally overcoming this. I can climb outdoors fine, I just can't deal with the exposure (example: a cliff, my bane Seneca Rocks, WV, and other such "structures").

So how do we work with our "FEARs"  and get over it?

1- stop thinking (distract yourself - read, draw, movie, friends, puppy... any number of things. use your imagination!)
2- when you are in that position of "FEAR" / scared/ anxiety/ stress - think about what it really is "False Emotion Appearing Real". Question it, logically, understand it, understand yourself.
3- Face it - if you are afraid of spiders - go to a petting zoo and pet one; dogs - go find a puppy and ask to play with it; being alone - go spend a day with your favorite person (yourself) and do it more often; the basement - put on the lights, take a knife with you and go downstairs and then realize how silly you are
4- there are things we are all afraid of, and there's nothing to be ashamed of. My silliest fears are clowns, balloons, thunder, and fireworks (they all go pop/boom which startles me, and makes me rather upset. the clown uses balloons to make pop sounds which are supposed to be funny? associated fear). So what I try to do is I expect it every second, and become less afraid. I Try. But once you accept your fear, face it, come to terms and understand it, it gets easier from there.

I'm still "afraid" of climbing up Seneca Rocks, but I will do it someday. I have to understand that although the exposure is pretty crazy, it is doable, and my belayer has got me (the thought still makes me sick). One key aspect of me overcoming this is me becoming a better climber and having more confidence. Once I can do "difficult" moves, I should think that the rock is no problem for me. Hearing 5.8 or 5.9 level climbing right now, does scare me a little. So I start small and dream big, and work hard to get there!

breathe

My sister spinning poi

A Day in the Valley

History, so much history to a place!

My history with the towpath, and Cuyahoga Valley National Park began in 2003 when I moved to Ohio, and began exploring parks. I had no idea there was a National Park in our backyard (not literally, but a few miles off). I finally began going there knowing it was the National Park in 2005, till then I just thought it was a nice forested area (Brecksville portion of the park). I began biking the towpath in 2005, and then got my first serious bicycle in 2009. I also had my first serious bicycle crash in 2009 in the park! I worked at CVNP from 2007 to 2008 as an Interpretive Seasonal Ranger. It the most amazing experience and amazing to serve the country in that way, in a peaceful yet protective way. Yes, we get to protect and inform the visitors and the natural resource.

I visit the park as often as I can, we climb near there, job, hike, bicycle. There is tonnes to see and do, so much wildlife, and the culture in the valley is amazing. (Below are links for planning your visit, and information, history etc.).

Yesterday Ryan and I biked the towpath, about 40 miles, and the interesting things we saw. Earlier that week we went to an event called "Music in the Meadow" which is a free concert by a local band, at Howe Meadow. There is nothing like listening to reggae, Celtic, folk, blues, while sitting in the nature and enjoying a snack, or tossing a frisbee.

The bike ride: starting at Botzum Trail head, we headed north, through Peninsula, to Canal-way Visitor Center 36 miles round trip. However we did take a few side tours to outhouses, and picnic areas, snacking areas, so it took longer than if we kept at it.
The wild life: we saw turtles, great blue heron, doggies on leashes, chipmunk, fish, duck, geese, the great bald eagle etc.
Other things to do: We spun poi, and relaxed, watched people, biked hard, and stopped by at trail mix for a snack or two. We got ice cream and some granola bars, which were yum! There was a live Owl, Falcon, and Red Tailed Hawk display at Hunt Farm. It was really cool, lots of rangers and volunteers, being seriosuly close to some awesome birds of prey!

The towpath was ridiculously crowded, it was a Sunday! There were people with their families, little children winding around the towpath on their little bicycles, casual riders, first time riders, so many different types of bicycles and people. Lots of joggers, dog walkers, and families with strollers. Lots of traffic, and serious bikers like us needed to be careful. We did not go above 15 mph.

Weirdest moment: So I sing when I bike, its better than having a radio, which annoys the wilderness as well as fellow journeymen, but nothing like live music, right? Well I was singing "Colors of the Wind" from Disney's Pocahontas. "come run the hidden pine trails of the forest, come taste the sun-sweet berries of the earth, come roll in all the riches all around you, and for once, never wonder what their worth! the rainstorm and the river are my brothers, the heron and the otter are my friends, and we are all connected to each other... in a circle in a hoop that never ends... " etc.
My mouth opens wide as I sing loudly and peddle ferociously so, and lo and behold, something from above falls into my mouth. I am usually used to bugs and such, good source of protein. However this texture was wrong, not buggy at all. I know it was bird poop. How it found its way into my mouth could only have been an act of god, or nature herself! Cruel cruel joke! Luckily and unfortunately I only had my camelbak, and 18 more miles to go. So Ryan and I had to come up with a strange adult bird feeding the baby bird method of rinsing my mouth out, without getting the camelbak mouth piece dirty.

What is a good day in the great outdoors, without strange experiences and adventures such as this?



It is such things that make life interesting, and gives you stories to tell, and makes us more innovative.


We took a potty break by Ira trail head, where I decided to break out the flag poi. I began spinning, and had a lot of spectators, and encouraging comments, curious passer by's who wanted to try it too! It was my pleasure to explain to them and tell them about it. A Chinese family, remarked it was much like the Chinese art of dancing with the ribbon. Kind of true, except Poi is usually done with fire. I can't wait to try fire.


We ended the bike ride, sore, lactic acid consuming our muscles, badly needing of hot showers, and massages! Oh and maybe some dinner, to replenish some of the lost calories. Despite the pain, the how hard it was to walk later, it was well worth it. To more, and longer bike rides in the valley!

Looking to the horizon

Rest Stop

Grub

Birds at Hunt Farm

Flag Poi

Game of Frisbee

Day in the Valley - Website for all events

Cuyahoga Valley National Park
The Scenic Railroad
The Conservancy for CVNP
A different website for the park
Trailmix Store
Hiking Trails and More
Ohio Erie Canalway
The Towpath

Jammin' on the Bass

I always wanted to "jam", ever since I was young. I would see my mom jam with singers, percussionists, while she created sweet sounds on her Hawaiian guitar (Fender). She played mostly Indian classical, but also popular musics of that time. She could rock out, if she wanted to but her passion was in Indian (Hindi and Bengali songs). My uncle plays the tabla, and had the privilege to learn under the most renowned Tabla Pundits. Through him I learnt somethings about rhythm, Indian music, appreciation for classical music... Classical Piano was something I was sent to lessons for, however I was really bored, as my progress was very slow, mostly because I did not enjoy the pieces I had to practice. This as well as some other negative experiences, created a dislike for piano lessons. Perhaps I never found the piano teacher that could teach me the way I needed to learn. However this did lay down my foundation in music. I never got to jam with anyone however.

In high school, the boys would jam during break, one on the piano, guitar, and drums, and a singer. I so longed to jam, but I was not equipped with the skills to do so. It was a lifelong longing.

Until...

Ryan, was setting up his guitars, 9 months after moving, finally taking out all his guitars, acquiring a new electric drum set, and other little creatures of guitaring. I wanted to play the drums; I tried; I was not too good at it. So he handed me the bass, and it seemed to be my calling. I rocked out! We jammed several songs and I loved it. I have been learning, playing, and composing with Ryan since then. To me it is a kind of meditation, it is very deep, and  relaxing to me. It brings out my creative energies, and helps with catharsis.

One day our musician and wildlife documenter/naturalist friend, Miles Reed, invited me to come over and teach me a few bass tricks. I knew this would be an interactive learning experience with a very experienced musician, so we took our instruments over and jammed! Ryan on Rhythm , Miles on lead, and me on the bass! it was fabulous music making, so much fun, relaxing. I was so nervous prior to, although this was a dear friend, just because I didn't know what to expect, and jamming with Miles and Ry turned out to be great.

It was like group meditation if I may say. We were all into this groove, and going with it wherever it would take us. We shared a few of our own compositions with Miles, and sang a few tunes for him, although I was still shy to sing in front of other people (although I frequently leave close friends and family "singing voicemails").

Music no matter what instrument it is, has so much more meaning when coupled with other instruments, and the pleasure of it multiplies with the more instruments you add to it. I feel so lucky to be able to share in this intimate experience with music. Yes it is much like a tango! Though challenging at times, but mastered through practice, music has never brought me more joy.

Practice:
someone once told me - "don't practice - one day and you know it

two days and the critics know it

three days and the public knows it"

So practice everyday!

and remember to 

Breathe!

Worlds Apart

Something so particular to India... is the ambiance of it all. That's what clings to you - the noises, the spirit in the air, the smells, ... the earth just feels so different there. Its so rich in the way that it is more than just a natural resource, it is the home to all... from the pavements, dark corners, beaches, mountains, under bridges, and train tracks.

At first one experiences the stench of dirt, overpopulation, and the blasted heat of the tropics. After extended exposure one grows used to it, and begins to love it, for it has character, a wholesome character. In the heat of the summer, in the afternoon when one just wants to enjoy a siesta the black crow caws - kaa kaa kaa. You fall asleep to its not so melodious voice. In the mornings however you are sure to be awakened by the birds in the trees, not just one, but every bird in the neighborhood. They know the meaning of getting busy.

The monsoon is the refreshing stage of the country. Things just seem a little more relaxed, as everyone enjoys the cooling down from the hot summer. The trees glisten from their recent shower. The roads are flooded, and everyone hikes up their clothes so as to not get wet. Those are the days that running out in the rain and getting soaking wet is the most amazing feeling in the world.

The food is incomparable: Indo-Chinese is exotic, South Indian food gets your blood pumping, North Indian food makes you comfortably lazy, the intricate tastes of Bengali cuisine, The sweet delicate nature of Gujarati food, the fun of Chaat... Only after leaving India does one realize how tasty, nourishing, fulfilling, satisfying, diverse the food is.

The people, the masses of people - overwhelming. Sometimes it feels like being in a packed concert. Sometimes in the mosh pit. After a while you get used to it. Then when you come back here you feel naked walking around. Anyone can just become a part of the crowds, just watch your belongings. The people may be rough around the edges, but they are simple, and warm. They are just like anywhere else in the world, but a different shade of skin color, and different language.


The culture is what makes the place and people what it is. Although becoming westernized rapidly, the traditions, beliefs, and culture stick on.


Culture... I am Indian/ American. I am what connects two of these worlds. Sometimes such a wonderful conglomeration of two vastly different things, sometimes so torn. It's a delicate balance within me. I am lucky to be both, enjoying the best of both worlds.

Roti, aloo and begun (Flat bread, potato fries and eggplant)

Muri and Aloo Chop and veggies

Veggies

Ma Durga

Mishti

Chaat

Bengali cuisine-  Maacher jhaal and sorshe (spicey fish in mustard oil)

South Indian Thaali

Shopping

Friendly neighborhood Langur

To Be a Writer

I wanted to be a writer ever since I had an imagination, and I could scribble characters which were alphabets to me. I first expressed myself by drawing, and then writing. My little 3 year old head had such thought and imaginations; I was fed books, cartoons, movies... and my brain would create a new world for myself from those ideas. It was truly glorious. I have always wanted to share it with the world.

The catch is, being a writer is like being an artist... you might as well be a poet or a penniless sitar player (Moulin Rouge reference). The profession of being a "Writer" was not in my parents vocabulary. Like all Indian parents, the idealized profession for their kids is: Doctor, Lawyer, Engineer. So hackneyed, so trite, yet it is the norm; so sad. However other occupations that lead to an abundance of wealth, and a "normal" life is acceptable, in example - business person, computer technology, research, etc. As long as you are able to follow the formula- Graduate, Get a Good Job (which pays enough to sustain you, parents, spouse and children, accomplish the following- buy house, car, get kids college educated, paid time off etc.). Cookie cutter houses, cookie cutter lifestyle. Life pattern: set. This is the best and safe route: take it. Best advice ever?

I like being safe, but I don't want the above. I've been searching my whole life, for more than what is presented to us by society, family, media, popular culture... There is more, but it's a risky jump away from my clutches. My family and society have never accepted this route/ idea, it's not safe, we don't know where it will lead, it is unconventional. (Just a tiny insight into my inner struggles with identity, family, cultures, life, and self).

Writing, though many a writers do exist, is still an unconventional career. How will I make it work? I am used to a certain lifestyle. Am I willing to give it up and live below my standards to become that independent yet awesome writer I yearn to be. No one believes I can, but I believe in me. Yet I have been seeking support for years now. That is the path I need to take, when no one has faith, I do, and I go with it. I know people who believe in God know God believes in them and it makes it easier. So I will just have to create my own imaginary being, maybe it's gonna be Higgs.

Writers need time, and space, and that's another lifestyle change most families have a hard time accepting. The aloofness, the quiet, ie. why would someone want to go solo, away from family and friends? Especially for a very chatty/clingy/emotionally dependent  family. It is funny cause we start out life as us, and then we mold to our families, and then realize we have to become us again. I always was quiet, shy, introspective, and friendly; somewhere that changed and I became social and chatty, and now I long to revert back to default settings.

I want to write, I can't wait to. My mind is a mess, 29 years of ideas floating around, unharnessed, connecting at points, needs filing and organization so bad. I wish I could hire an assistant to help go into the deep dark cupboards in the back, which has fresh ideas locked away, and bring them to the forefront. I need to grease up my writing hand and pick up a pencil, eraser and sharpener and draw the thought flows down

In the middle of the 29 years of mental story planning and building, a lot happened - personal growth, life, college, education, college English classes, artistic influences, dark times,  travels, meeting people from all walks of life, experiences and relationships. All this influenced me tremendously in my blog writings and non- online writings. Especially the "imagination- killer"; I love fiction, fantasy and everything beyond this world, that keep us locked in a so called reality with rules and such (law's of physics, science, religion, politics, civics etc.). This person was so grounded, that he condoned my imagination, that "pretending" was silly. However all thinking is imagining anyway, (later I realized). For a while though my imagination was killed, and I sought to be grounded in reality (which I might say is boring, and can make you age faster than the higgs boson!).

This is my choice. This is what I will do.
I will write.

Breathe


PS: found this when I was researching short life spans (reference, see last paragraph of blog)
Animals with short life spans - http://akorra.com/2010/03/04/top-10-shortest-living-organisms/

This happens to humans when they tune into "Reality" too much.




So what should I write?

Not Lost in Translation

After much reflection, I am finally ready to write about the wonderful country of Japan.

The realization of me going to Japan, the country I longed to go to, the country I studied about in geography, martial arts, anime, people/friends, singing class etc... had not sunk in. I did not believe it, would not believe it until I set foot in Tokyo.

My dad, boss, and travel partner asked me why I was not excited, as it was both of our first times going there. I acted nonchalant and tired, but inside I was excited. Inwardly, I was collecting and priming all the information I knew about this country - geography, language, cultural nuances...etc. I should have been born Japanese; I have dabbled and obsessed of all cultures around the world: I love people, places, language, culture... of all types. It is fascinating.

On the plane, it was the old type of 747, with TV only on the top of the cabin. We flew to the west coast from where we followed the west coast up to Canadian west coast, Alaska, and the Kamchatka peninsula down over to the Japanese Archipelago. There it was Shikoku, Kyushu, Honshu and Hokkaido, the four main islands of Japan. There was Narita International Airport; we landed. We were here. It was still an hour to Tokyo and I was exhausted, however our Japanese colleague was meeting us there. I was unsure as we suddenly didn't have working cell phones, did not know the language, disoriented, did not know the place... I was a foreigner in a foreign land! He was there though, sure enough, waiting, with a very welcoming smile. I was so pleased to see him. It was familiarity, a friend, in an unknown land. I welcomed it and embraced it.

When we reached the hotel, I was eager to rest, shower, however now we were on official business, so 5 minutes in the room, then we go for dinner. Lucky for me drinking sake was a custom in Japanese business. We had great food, which was highly exotic, however I do not recollect through the haze of jetlag and lots of sake! I rested well on an extra firm bed, and a very special pillow which had some rice/beans/beads in it. I have never slept that well in my life! I want that bed, and pillow back.

The toilet was exceptional - it was so interactive - there was a bidet - spray for the front and the back. There was a dryer, there was a toilet seat warmer, there was a constant flushing noise, there was different spray levels, I forget what else there was. However it was the best experience ever, and I wish we, in oh so developed USA would have that too. If only.

In Tokyo, everyone stands on the right in the escalators letting the people in a hurry pass on the left. People keep the city, public places, everywhere clean just out of common - civic sense. The people never show negative emotions in public, perhaps very rarely if so. This might seem oppressive, but it is just the way they are. It's the discipline they follow. It is just their culture.

Sometimes I really missed rocking out to rock music, and just dancing, but when do I ever do that here? I was on constant business mode, and having to "behave", this is hard for me to do, so I was on edge at times. On the edge of just bursting into song, or going loco in public... I imagine I was an oddity in general, as I usually am anyway. However I did enjoy the tranquility that came with this culture, discipline etc. When we went to visit a temple in Tokyo, and a little garden that accompanied it; it was just beautiful, and peaceful. I never felt or saw anything like it.

The food, and our hosts were exceptional, and the business went better than planned by everyone. In the end nothing was lost in translation, it was at times difficult, but with a smile, gestures and basic Japanese words one can get by. I learned that knowing the words for "bathroom" "food" and "water" are the most important. In fact enacting "bathroom" is so difficult to a person who has no idea what - loo, restroom, toilets, washroom, bathroom, shower means... After quite a bit of gesturing she understood, (I enacted washing my face, brushing my teeth, and then I was gesturing sitting down to potty, and then she got it!).

 The people in restaurants are so happy, even early in the mornings... I was so curious about this "happiness" all the time phenomena, however it was explained to me that "would you want to go to a restaurant and receive bad service?" The answer is, obviously not, but all over the world it happens. However in Japan it doesn't as far as I experienced. Also despite the awesome and pleasant service, no one tips. Coming back to USA, it is so hard to tip, when service is usually sub par. I wish I could express here how I was greeted, and how huge the smiles of everyone was, but some of the pictures would hopefully depict that.

Everything is seen to perfection. Everything is perfect as seen in the food served below. Its not only delicious but looks good, tastes good, and served in pleasant atmosphere. So this is what zen eating is.

It was in all an awesome experience. I would go back any day!If you can, GO THERE!

Sashimi

Sashimi almost every night

Yummy fish!

Me in Tokyo!

Friends!

My new friends and Japanese photo booth!

Hiro and I!