Learn to postpone worry! Be in the moment!
Yesterday,
I got some quiet time to myself at a café. I find it absolutely necessary to
remain silent for some spells – at least one – daily. I use this time to pause,
reflect – and importantly to postpone worry!
To be
sure, I make a list of all the stuff that worries me – and I have enough and
more to worry about, just like you have – and bucket them into two lists. Stuff
that I can act on and resolve over time. And stuff that I can’t resolve. Those
that I can work on and solve, I convince myself that I need not worry about
them. And those that I can’t solve myself, I convince myself again, that I must
not worry about them either. This is how, methodically, practically, logically,
I postpone worrying on a daily basis.
The
biggest benefit of postponing worry is that you are available to the now – and are
present in the moment. No past. No future. Which means no grief, anger or guilt
over what has happened – the past. And no fear, anxiety or worry over what may
happen – the future. No past. No future. You are just present in the moment.
In the
present moment there is just beauty. There is complete magic.
Last
evening, while at the café, it rained like crazy for about 40 minutes. It was a
very heavy downpour. It was also the day after Diwali here in the south of
India. Most services were still not available as most people were on an
extended festive vacation. I wanted to get back home. But no Uber cars were
available. And it was impossible to step out because the rain came down
pelting. I stepped out onto the balcony at the café to gauge the intensity of
the rain.
A cat
meowed incessantly in a corner of the balcony – perhaps feeling wet and cold in
the rain. The café had festive, decorative lights running around the trees on
their premises. In the rain, these lights came alive differently – they felt
surreal. And the rain created a music which was at the same time intense and
sublime.
I was
reminded of the opening lines of a Kumar Sanu number from Sir (1993, Mahesh Bhatt, Naseeruddin Shah, Pooja Bhatt, Atul
Agnihotri) which goes: “Sun, Sun, Sun
Barsaat Ki Dhun Sun…”. It means, “Listen, listen to music of the rain…!”
I spent
several minutes staying immersed in the music that the rain made. At another
time in my Life, in such weather, I would have preferred to drink my favorite
whiskey while watching Amar Akbar Anthony
(1977, Manmohan Desai) – perhaps for the millionth time! But, over time, I have
learned that you don’t need an induced, artificial intoxicant, to get a high. You
can get an inexplicable, unputdownable high if you know how to get drunk on Life
by being present in the moment. Perhaps that’s why Jalauddin Rumi, the 13th
Century Persian poet has said this of Life: “Be aware
of the pure wine being poured. Don’t complain that you have been handed a dirty
cup!”
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