By Vega Subramaniam
My mom and I immigrated here from India in 1968 (my dad preceded us in 1966), solely as a result of the 1965 Immigration and Naturalization Act. Which means I owe my life and my bounty here … Read More
By Vega Subramaniam
May is Mental Health Awareness Month. To my fellow travelers along our bumpy, shifting, treacherous path of survival, I see you and salute you.
Job loss, financial stress, and social isolation: three of the biggest predictors of depression and suicide. Well played, dystopian universe. Well played.
On a personal note, early May—as a time to mark the value of mental health and to honor the role of friends and community in nurturing mental health—has layers of poignancy for me and for Mala. In early May of 2007, Mala tried to take her life. As it turns out, and to my everlasting relief, her life refused in no uncertain terms to be taken.
Which means that every year since then, early May has been a gift—to remind me what’s important. To give gratitude to my community. And to reconnect with what keeps me afloat. Read More
By Vega Subramaniam
In the days when a human could casually imagine doing this (read: before March 11th), Mala and I love(d) camping. We love the wilderness, the fresh air, the birds.
And when we camp, naturally we build campfires. While building a campfire might not be my favorite part of camping, there are certainly enjoyable aspects of it. The thrill of self-reliance, the sense of adventure and resourcefulness and grit, the anticipation of warmth and coziness.
So then the fire’s built. And it’s warm and cozy, and we’re roasting marshmallows, and the sun is gently setting and the air is turning pleasantly cool and sigh, this is the life.
…Until it’s not, because now it’s legit cold and kind of dark actually, and the s’mores are gross and extra, and we’re almost out of firewood. So now we have to go find more firewood, except now it’s cold and dark, etc., see above. And though it’s tempting to call it quits, I know that I’d rather keep the fire going now than suffer the chilliness of no campfire a couple hours from now.
So, somehow, I find the stamina to withstand the cold, head off for more firewood, and keep the fire going. Read More
By Vega Subramaniam
What a difference a month can make, eh?
I’ve found myself cocooning for the past several weeks.
For one thing, Mala and I (and her mom) moved a couple weeks ago, from Silver Spring to Laurel, MD, … Read More
By Vega Subramaniam
To add to the growing list of places that are closed, I just now got a notice from our apartment building that the fitness center is closed for two weeks (to be clear: I don’t actually use the fitness center; it’s just yet another place that’s closed). As a capital-E extrovert, I do not approve. I do not approve, and I am bored. I am here to tell you how garbage this is, this “social distance,” this “self-quarantine” (not to be confused with isolation), this “abundance of caution.”
Scary times. Uncertain times. Panicky times.
I’ve got two surefire ways to cope with scary, uncertain, panicky times.
By Vega Subramaniam
There’s a writing fellowship I’ve had my sights on for…well, for at least a few years now. Every once in awhile, I’ll go to the website, check out the next application date, salivate a bit over the photos of the location, and then watch another episode of My Life is Murder.
Applying for the fellowship sits toward the top of my annual goals almost every year. I think, well, I’m one or two degrees of separation from folks who’ve gotten the fellowship; maybe I’ll reach out to them for advice. Or, even if I wouldn’t qualify for this fellowship, maybe there’s a lower-stakes one out there that I could vie for. Or, what the hell, let me at least go through the exercise of applying for the fellowship; even if when I don’t get it, the exercise itself will have been worth it.
I keep not doing it, though. And it weighs on me. It sits there in the back of my mind taking up far too much space, especially considering how little work I put toward it. It basically just sucks my energy and makes me feel low-key lousy about myself all the time.
Something holds me back, despite it being on my “annual goals” list…and on my calendar…and in my DropBox. Read More
By Vega Subramaniam
Lately, I keep running into a particular situation. It has to do with this moment when something we’ve been wanting for a long time suddenly occurs almost without us noticing.
Let me explain what I mean by that.
Situation 1
I was at a board meeting recently when our board chair, Hilary, noted how remarkable it was that, after years of talking about but not actually recruiting new board members, that very month two new people joined the board. As if by magic. And Hilary said, “It goes to show, you can’t mess with the timeline…But you can’t give up, either.” The process takes as long as it takes, even when we become discouraged or despairing, and there’s not a whole lot we can do about it—and yet, the process continues, even when we’re not noticing.
Situation 2
I’ve wanted for years now to reestablish my decades-long habit of daily journaling. I missed it sorely, I felt better when I was in the practice, and it was a way for me to tap into my creativity that was unmatched by any other practice.
I tried a hundred thousand tricks and experimented and tested and made efforts and proceeded in fits and starts. And I let time go by and didn’t do things and gnashed my teeth in frustration at not doing things and tried writing groups with this set of people and that set of people and set writing dates and missed writing dates and resolved on daily writing times and failed to write during those daily writing times, and more or less just could not figure out how to crack that nut.
I’d tried so many, many things, and while sometimes I’d write regularly for a few days or weeks, it never stopped being a slog.
And very occasionally, by which I mean over and over again many many times, my entry was some version of, “Dear Diary: I’m wiped but I’m writing today just so I can check it off my list. Good night, Dear Diary. See you tomorrow. Maybe. I mean, I’m not promising or anything, except of course I am, so…yeah, be ready for another entry just like this one. Kthxbye.”
And now, suddenly, as if by magic, I’ve been journaling regularly again for months. So much so that I don’t feel any concern that I’ll drop off; dropping off feels unthinkable.
Situation 3
A few of us were meeting up recently for our personal intentional life planning process. It’s a thing we do every year about this time. We start with a review of the previous year: what were our goals, and which did we achieve? What did we prioritize or neglect? What still matters and what’s no longer relevant? It’s rejuvenating and clarifying and inspiring, every time.
During this process, my friend Anjan noticed a goal they’d set last year that they’d completely forgotten having written. And yet, they’d actually accomplished it over the course of the year. That led them to remark that, “sometimes you just have to put your intention into the universe—and then it ends up happening!” As if by magic.
We all laughed and laughed and laughed, ha ha, wouldn’t it be nice if it were that easy…and then we paused, and thought about it, and agreed that actually, yes, sometimes it is “that easy.”
When you say a goal or an intention out loud, into the universe if you will, then it’s already achieved Step One. It’s already…not birthed, maybe, but conceived.
And once it’s conceived–then what happens? Read More
By Vega Subramaniam
Mala always tells me that I have a really strong intuition. And I’m inclined to agree with her. I remember when we searched for a place to live together for the first time in 2000. We had our carefully constructed list of criteria, sure, because obviously we did, and it was probably on an Excel spreadsheet as well. Because obviously it was.
But when we looked at places that more or less met our criteria, as often as not, I’d know within nanoseconds of walking in the door whether I even wanted to see the rest of the apartment, much less live in it. “I don’t like it. I just don’t like it. Nope.”
Mala was both impressed and puzzled annoyed. Impressed because, she would say, there’s no way she could access internal information that would tell her within nanoseconds that this wasn’t the right place. How did I do that? And annoyed because, wait, this apartment meets all of our painstakingly constructed criteria; why would I so cavalierly dismiss it within nanoseconds? But what about how open and airy it was? How close to the main drag? How easy it would be to have friends over? Wait wait wait, let’s at least look at the rest of the place, who knows? It could grow on you. Right? I mean, right?
Wrong.
Mala learned early on in our relationship that if the vibe of something just felt off, then there weren’t words that could be used or arguments that could be made that could convince me to ignore my gut.
When it came to places to live, that is. In those circumstances, I am aware that I have a gut feeling, and I refuse to ignore it. Contrast that with the way I chose jobs. Chaotic at best, utterly misinformed, some might say delusional, at worst. Even though my gut is screaming at the same decibel level.
So, what’s the difference? And does Mala really not have access to the same gut feelings that I do? Read More
It’s the new year, dear friends. You might or might not be the kind of person who’s inclined to use this moment to reflect on the past year and dream and plan for the new year. But I am, for sure. I always find it comforting to pause, look inward, and then focus outward/forward.
I love the cycle of learn–create–experiment. It’s something I do naturally anyway, when it comes to self-improvement. I have an unquenchable thirst for the latest research on what makes us tick and feel called to share whatever’s had the greatest impact on me. Read More
By Vega Subramaniam
“Embrace failure.”
Most of us are probably familiar with this appeal: to embrace failure. To not feel bad about ourselves for failing, to not let failure stop us. To see failing as a vital component of learning, growing, improving.
To exactly no one’s surprise, I have had my share of failures in my life. Failed classes. Failed relationships. Failed jobs. Failed failed failed tra la la failed failed.
And there’s certainly plenty of evidence out there to support the idea that the best way for us to improve is to fail…well, to fail, yes, but more importantly, to learn from the failure.
I certainly have a much healthier relationship to what you might call “small” failures now than I have had in the past. I can take a “no” from a potential client in stride. If I give a presentation and it flops, I’m able to pretty quickly pick myself up and figure out what I’d do differently next time, with a fair degree of psychic neutrality. If a workshop doesn’t go as planned, I happily receive feedback about what didn’t work.
And to be clear: all of that came through a lot of hard internal work and no small amount of coaching and peer support. It wasn’t that long ago when any one of those things would send me spiraling into months of self-recrimination and self-doubt. Read More
