Red Hot Wheels: Cycles of Life

Find me a man who is sane, and I will cure him for you---Carl Jung

My colleague and Friend D, who has been helping me since I got here.  I never ask for help.  He just calls and says, 'hey the bike is on sale, and I know you need it.' I don't complain or question or argue.  I know he is right. 

He comes over, with a borrowed trailer that needs to be returned by the evening.  We go to the store.  We buy the bike and throw it on the trailer and return home.

For the next 90 minutes he puts the bike together.  So, within about 6 hrs of waking up, one fine Sunday morning in May, I have new bike, new red hot wheels, that take me places. Allow me to venture a little farther than I normally do.  Absolutely no effort from my side.  How could I ignore this abundance and focus on the not so positive? 

There are several notions about life. About living.  About being on your own. About being what people call 'single' and especially a 'single expat.'

Then there are notions about educated, sort of professionally successful people who live alone.

Are they mentally (un)fit?  Do they have issues with being with other people? May be emotional issues?  May be someone hurt them real bad at some point and they never got over it? Why would they want to be alone? 

As if all of these 'oddities' have not touched each one of us, at one point or another?  Whether we live alone or not, fit into the 'right' mode or life or not.  And could we grow, without pain and confusion?  

But no one ever stops to think that may be for those who have had to be on their own for a long time-- it is a combination of 'circumstances and an adherence to integrity'.  May be there is a lack of integrity in the gloss and gild that we see around us.  

For some of us, we get the bulk of oddities of life.  We all are a a little insane, a little odd, a little difficult to be with, a little hurt from before, a little damaged and we have all compromised in certain aspects of our lives.  (Just depends in which direction).  If you believe in reincarnation, then our current state is due to our own pasts and baggage.  If you don't believe in reincarnation but believe in a God, then, due to divine grace.  My problem with the latter is that it does not explain, the 'why'.

And the problem with the former, the idea of reincarnation is that it makes us feel like a victim and does not allow the freedom of choice (although once you go deep into it, karma is not written in stone either).  Why should I pay (bear the fruits of) for what happened lifetimes ago?  Or in another way of thinking, why should I take anything God dishes out without a complaint?

But the fact of the matter is there are several other ways of thinking about this.

The two former ways, could be explained, if one so wishes to go into depth.

Reincarnation view:  Divine time is not our time.  We perceive time differently than the universe does.  Energy can neither be created nor destroyed.  What we put in motion will come to a head.  The present is a culmination of what we sowed in past lives.  The only interesting thing about this for me is that, 'we all were something else.....the king could have been a pauper in another life, a blue-eyed diva, could have been a poor african mother, large and voluptuous, but so concerned with her children that she had to sell one of them to provide for the others, a self-righteous monk could have been a playboy in his past life.. atoning his past sins by a life of abstinence in this one ...So in the end we are all equal.  Or so...

Divine purpose view:  We should do our best, but also accept what is given to us.  For our Lord Father knows better, He (I prefer She or It) knows what is best for our soul.  So we are given only those struggles we can handle.  If we are getting much more difficult times than we see others around us getting, then it is a testimony to our soul's strength.  So in the end, it is all a glorious process, albeit, comes short of explaining...

But there is way to combine synthesize the two, and move beyond ---may be there is no purpose, no redemption, no paying of debts.  It is what it is.  And media and other stories have often focussed on, 'Once there was a King......who had a beautiful princess or a handsome prince....' but there are other stories,  that are loved to a lesser extent, 'Once there was a young beautiful girl, born in a poverty stricken hut, situated in a drought fraught land...'

Is one story more glorious than the other?  We have no clue what the end is going to be.  But for some reason, we assume the former is a happier story than the later one.

So, the point is that we have no idea how the stories unfold and what their end will be.  And we will never know.  The sheer idea of purpose is subjective. 

Then the focus is, on 'this is life, this is now, this is me. an expat, sort of confused about what is home, what is community, questioning my own strategies towards life...but it is only sad if I put my subjective blue-lens on it.  I could, if I choose use that pink lens, that has a gold rim...and make it seem like a story with a fairy-tale ending.  May be the best is not behind but ahead of us....'

When I put the pictures up on this draft, about two months ago, I had something else in mind, as the theme.  Something to the extent of place of wheels in our life, and how even a simple form of accelerating our movements makes a difference in our disposition.

But when I started writing today, all I could see in the pictures was the richness of my community and friends, around the world.  And here I am talking especially about those who I never had to ask for help.  They just show up. Or ask me, 'Hey, tell me how to help you.'   For example, the last year my house was practically empty.  I have no car, and unlike the US am not aware of where to buy things etc.  Somehow  now, I have all the basic the furniture need.  People would call, take me shopping or simply drop things I need at my place.  

My Swedish mom would call and simply let me know what things were on sale and that she was coming to pick me up and take me to IKEA.   Slowly my house became a home.  My neighbors who were moving came and gave me a bunch of furniture that was in good shape but they would not need in their new apartment, since their children were all grown up.

As I slowly started to notice there is richness to this life that people with family and (romantic) relationships may never have, my head and shoulders grew heavy with gratitude.  While a 'family life' is always celebrated, and is desirable, the other, not so glamorous (on the surface) is not what the media, stories and fables give us as the 'Zenith'.  That even though I, and many others look through the misty window in the worlds of those whose stories are spun repeatedly and told umpteenth time, the world that I have my back towards is much wider.  That world, which often escapes focus, because I am a like a fish breathing in the same water (of stories) for generations, does not cease to exist simply because it is not acknowledged.  But the world behind my back is more varied---It is a prairie one day, with children playing fearlessly on the lush grass, the other day, it is a jungle, unpredictable and scary.

May be, I should turn around and look at that world.  The one that I have inherited, due to Karma or Divine grace.  And see it in clear light.  May be this is where I will find the door to the home that I have been searching for!  Am I afraid?  Because it has no boundaries, no strings?  No picket fence? 

But it has compassion without strings, generosity without expectation, and platonic love that is more giving than demanding.

So, in other words, I want to stress on the fact that being alone and lonely are not the same.  I would rather be former than latter.  In all my years, although I have truly done all the things and moving practically on my own, from town to town, state to state and continent to continent, I have always gathered some of the kindest people in my life.  

For example, I have a friend (well two) from Germany.  Both of who at some point suggested that if need be, they will come up to help me organize my house.  I was so touched by that offer.  We are in Europe, but we are not a convenient ride away.  My friend from Spain, who I befriended only through our talks outside of rushed restroom visits, checks on my regularly despite having a few rough years with jobs and work, and now being a new mom.  My host mom from the US never forgets my birthday --not for the last two decades, and was a major support during my MS and when I returned to the University to teach.  When we could not meet, sometimes I would wake up to chocolates hanging on my door handle, because she came really early to go to work, did not want to wake me up, dropped something at my door and was off to work.

Similarly here, my Swedish mom checks on me every two weeks and calls me to remind me 'the sunlight is going to be drastically reduced in the next few weeks.  We wont have real sun for months. Please spend time outdoors to absorb some light.'  My neighbors, who have actually spent a year in Penn State (not the main campus, but they have been there) are always informed when I am leaving, and now I do not even have to formally inform them.  They come to realize when I am out by the plants that I leave at their door so that they would take care of them.  When I return they hand me my mail.  Not a word said, not a word explained.  Just a part of our existence.  An acknowledgment that we can only move forward by recognizing that we and the other are in this together.

I also remember from years ago when I moved back to State College, a friend simply said, 'let me help you', when I was in town only for a day, and needed to look at the apartments.  That one afternoon we drove about 4 straight hours from one apartment complex to another.  But by the time I returned home, I had one  major entry to check off my list, 'look for an apartment.' Just like that.

Another time I had to look for hotel for a conference in New Orleans, and I was running frantically since I had little money and time to organize.  A friend who is a New Orleans native told me to stay with her parents.  She, herself was in Indiana at the time, and I had never met her parents before. But there at the airport was her mom waiting for me, with a praline box as a gift for me. 

My students here have been tremendous help.  I have been told to not be close to students. But i do not know how.  Students, teachers, mentors, alike, we are all people.  This is been both my strength and weakness. To me, people are people.

But my students around the world have been special.  Those from India I am still in touch with, and many keep contacting me on facebook now.  The ones from Botswana are the only ones that I never had any contact with once I left the country.   I have a few from Fiji who keep in touch.  But the ones from Sweden have added another dimension to that relationship.  All those I am close to here, are post graduate students.  By the time I arrived here I was lost, disoriented and confused about so much.  Learning a new country is not like learning to bike or to swim, where we stumble and stagger and one fine morning our  bodies adjust and we are good for the rest of our lives.   Learning about countries is painful, more so with time, when we have too many things running in our lives.  We have to understand the basics of living, where to find what we need to live on, which ones are the best places to buy, how to get the internet, even the names of brands are not the same.  It is quite overwhelming.  I bore that for the first 8 months in the country, since I was not that close to my students at the time.  After that, they just adopted me.  I do not even know how they took care of so many of my tasks.  

'Oh, you need to buy a train ticket?  Just tell us when and your preferred time, we will buy it for you, and you can pay us later.'

"Oh you need to learn how to record this, ok, no worries just tell us and will fix it.'

"Ah, wait a few minutes and we will email you the link to the map for the building where you need to go to get your document.'

In return I would spend much time with them, talking about their work but just as much talking about life.  Now that many of them are not in the country, but they text and/or call to check on me. 

Last month the young person who came to help me, is also a former student.  Who, while I was gone, made sure that the plants were taken care of, and ran a few errands for me.

From nowhere help and support keeps pouring.    

Sure, I still cannot keep a pet, or a have  a regular life that makes the stuff of the movies.  That  particular ongoing day to day life is missing.  But herrgud (my god!!) shall I ignore the richness that abounds me?  

So, the day D called me, I was working on the internet and had a skype meeting.  'Yes, but the sale does not last long, you should get this bike.' It was slight assertion, but I agreed with him and knew he meant well.  He was the one who my first year here brought me pan full of cantrells (yellow mushroom native to this region, --our swedish teacher told us how sacred these mushrooms are.  Swedes go picking their own, and hardly ever share them)  and left them on my door.  

Ok I said.  But in a few hours, (as I have explained above by the pictures) I had a bike, and a new way of life.  I did not ask for it, I did know what a bike would do for me.  But I do not own a car right now and hardly look at the news ads.  It just dawned on me, how rich I am.  How rich in people.  It is my shortsightedness if I do not focus on that.

It does not take away from what we all desire, a home, a family, a destination.  But to ignore the richness of our own lives because we are looking in the wrong direction or have inappropriate lenses is a gross injustice to who we are, what we have acquired, how we have been rewarded, and to those who are significant yarns in the fabric of our lives, just because we have not been taught to use certain lenses that came with the package when we bought our cameras (ways of looking at the world). 

At the end of the day, when I was a proud owner of these red hot wheels....like all my prior bikes, I sent out the following email to family and a few friends.  I hope that if you get to read this, you will rummage through your camera boxes and look for the lenses that you have not used, or have never been pointed towards to see what you have overlooked.  And if this does seem 'rosy' to you, its because I chose to use the 'clear -objective lens' today, which is sort of rosy---and I seem to be enjoying it!!

HI Girls:

I just had to write before I went to sleep.

Today. D, one of my work mates, who has been such a help-- called.

Well he emailed yesterday.

'I am going to Biltema....and they have a bike on sale. .....'

'Biltema is like Lowe's'

'I had work to do, but i knew this would be so easy, he is so helpful, so I said yes'

We bought the bike'

We got home, I made him....vanilla banana lassi/milkshake

And he put together the new bike for me......

Ah....and the color......RED......like my very first bike and the bike I had in the US.......

Later i went for my bike ride.....only 15 minutes but much of it was uphill and I was huffing and puffing.....but what a great feeling to get back to my 

First love....'biking'

but let me tell you , how I had to be dressed in the month of May to for a bike ride...

1. SNEAKERS, OBVIOUS.

2. LONG JEANS OBVIOUS.

3. T SHIRT OBVIOUS.

4. A VERY WARM SWEATER, NOT SO OBVIOUS.

5, A SPRING JACKET....OH MY GOD..

6. GLOVES- DAMN...

7.  HAT.....YES, I AM SERIOUS...:))

I wish you all, happy looking through new glasses and glorious rides on new ways of thinking.....