Perspective Shift
I feel different this side of the India trip. Trips have shaken me up mentally before, a bit - once, after coming back from Texas, I found I was a much more patient commuter for some reason.
This time the change is that I feel like my mind has been revived. Over the past few years I've been increasingly anxious, depressed, and cynical. I've lost some interest in things that used to fascinate me. I enjoy the outdoors less and less, don't spontaneously visit museums often, sing less, and spend less time with family. It's been really hard to make it through works of fiction without nit-picking them to death. It's like I always feel like there's something greater that I should be doing, and all these things I love and enjoy are just distractions, so I devalue them.
In India there really wasn't anything greater I could be doing. I didn't constantly wonder what I needed to take care of, because everything I did was either prearranged or taken care of by Ravi's family. There were little things, like needing to find a place to shop for toiletries or an opportune time to do laundry, but they were very immediate concerns.
Plus, there was a lot of discomfort. I don't want to put anyone off India, because it's an amazing place full of incredible things to see, and I had a great time. But it's certainly true that it lacked many of the creature comforts I'm used to. Stuff like carpeting, soft mattresses, enough time to get a good night's sleep, omnipresent air conditioning, an uninterrupted supply of electricity, and the consistent presence of toilet paper in every single bathroom. All the little discomforts made me more physically aware of my body and surroundings, without the possibility of escape into cyberspace.
And they made me really appreciate the good things in life. That spiritual awakening I posted about so flippantly the other day? Was not really a joke. I have tended to look down on suburbia, not only because there are probably better housing arrangements environmentally speaking, but because they weren't cool. The houses were too much alike! The siding was ugly! That snobbery is gone, replaced by appreciation for the quiet, comfortable, orderly-yet-free life I am able to lead by living where I live.
Perhaps that's it in a nutshell - some of my snobbery has been replaced by appreciation for, and knowledge of, the things I truly love.
This time the change is that I feel like my mind has been revived. Over the past few years I've been increasingly anxious, depressed, and cynical. I've lost some interest in things that used to fascinate me. I enjoy the outdoors less and less, don't spontaneously visit museums often, sing less, and spend less time with family. It's been really hard to make it through works of fiction without nit-picking them to death. It's like I always feel like there's something greater that I should be doing, and all these things I love and enjoy are just distractions, so I devalue them.
In India there really wasn't anything greater I could be doing. I didn't constantly wonder what I needed to take care of, because everything I did was either prearranged or taken care of by Ravi's family. There were little things, like needing to find a place to shop for toiletries or an opportune time to do laundry, but they were very immediate concerns.
Plus, there was a lot of discomfort. I don't want to put anyone off India, because it's an amazing place full of incredible things to see, and I had a great time. But it's certainly true that it lacked many of the creature comforts I'm used to. Stuff like carpeting, soft mattresses, enough time to get a good night's sleep, omnipresent air conditioning, an uninterrupted supply of electricity, and the consistent presence of toilet paper in every single bathroom. All the little discomforts made me more physically aware of my body and surroundings, without the possibility of escape into cyberspace.
And they made me really appreciate the good things in life. That spiritual awakening I posted about so flippantly the other day? Was not really a joke. I have tended to look down on suburbia, not only because there are probably better housing arrangements environmentally speaking, but because they weren't cool. The houses were too much alike! The siding was ugly! That snobbery is gone, replaced by appreciation for the quiet, comfortable, orderly-yet-free life I am able to lead by living where I live.
Perhaps that's it in a nutshell - some of my snobbery has been replaced by appreciation for, and knowledge of, the things I truly love.