“It’s Time To Trust My Instincts, Close My Eyes & Leap! It’s Time To Try Defying Gravity”: New Year, Old Challenges

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Today’s Mood Ingredients: Determined, Fearful, Obstinate, Risky, Adventurous.

Happy New Year! It’s taken me the past 10 days of January to decide if I was even going to make any resolutions this year. I, along with many of you I presume, am notorious for making a resolution & promptly forgetting it ever existed pretty much within the same week. This year I decided to “trick” myself. I’ve never broken a promise to someone, but I always shatter the ones I make to myself with some excuse or another. However, if challenged..by anyone, including myself..for better or worse, I rise to the occasion. Therefore, for 2018 I made those pesky little resolutions, but I’m going to take them as challenges & hopefully gain even more insight & clarity into what kind of a person I want to evolve into. So, here we go:

I. Anxiety: My very own version of a “Dark Lord” (you know I can’t go too long without an HP reference). This is my biggest struggle. I am plagued by this never-ending sense of abject terror when it comes to my family & them either being hurt or lost to me. My creative imagination (a bane & a boon, depending on when it acts up) goes from zero to catastrophe before I have any chance to try & make some sort of logical sense of any situation. The scenarios I’ve come up with in the midst of an anxiety attack are truly capable of earning quite a few creative writing prizes (or of getting me committed with a straitjacket, but I choose to see the positive – it’s new)! I’ve taken this challenge upon many times before, but this is the year that I’m finally truly fully focused on my mental health. Anxiety can be crippling, & my goal is to not only to keep it at bay this year, but to get a handle on this shitty thing once & for all. Goals: Write in a journal (not like Dear Diary, I like this boy), meditate more (Tibetan monks chanting playlist on YouTube, though!), think things through with a little more logic & actual thought (more Sudoku, less Word Search), & a little less death & destruction. I’m gonna be anxiety’s Avada Kedavra (sorry, last one).

II. Diet: Yeah, yeah, we all have this one. Mine is not to lose weight, it is to stop being internally toxic. Going to have to swap the daily Doritos & Taco Bell & never-ending pasta bowls for kale chips & quinoa this year so that my genetic tendency for “35-children-at-a-time bearing hips” does not come into fruition any time soon..or ever. Also cutting out liquor in 2018. I hate how it feels the day of, the day after, & I can’t be taking shots of anything that isn’t wheatgrass anymore. HOWEVER, touch my beer & lose a hand! 😛 Soda’s gone by the wayside & therefore my waistline is going to do the same. Goals: Meal prep (Can I pay someone to do this for me?), H20 toxicity (the new “chug chug chug!), & more green shit that isn’t a jalapeño pepper.

III: Friendships: This one is the hardest. I’ve spent my entire life being a Golden Girl (I prefer Sophia – sarcastic & scrappy) & in that, I’ve constantly gone out of my way to do/be the friend who will pull out all the stops for a friendship. My nickname is “Doormat,” & I’m way over being the base for muddy prints. I’m slowly learning to (& recommending to) remove toxic & “taker” friendships from my life. The energy it requires to keep people around just because you’ve been friends for years is taxing & unnecessary. I prefer a symbiotic relationship with the people that I spend my time & heart on (don’t be gross) & that doesn’t necessarily mean that I need to “get” something out of the other person, but someone else doing at least half of the advice-giving/taking interest is really the key to my healthy 2018 right now. Goals: “You may hate me but it ain’t no lie, baby, bye bye bye.”

IV: Relationships: A lot of the above, but maybe actually put time & effort into finding a long-term homie to hang with. Goals: Re-title my online dating app folder on my phone from “Painful” to something slightly more positive. 😛

V: Fear: Just face it. Look that beast in its beady little eyes & be my actual self before experiences & relationships & the darker parts of life dulled my innate fighting spirit. Goals: Do things that scare me (for me, that’s like not calling my mom the whole day or something). :O

VI: Creative Integrity: For all of the paths I’ve taken in my life, professionally or personally, I’ve always only had one true ambition; to be happy & content by living creatively. More than that, to extend my creativity outwards, rather than keeping it in its tiny bubble that no one else can experience but me. This is my year. This is the year that I post about something or say something to someone or articulate an idea & follow through. Not just think about it & “try” to do it & fail for whatever reason be it lack of time, support, or any other excuse. Uphold my creative integrity & see how far I can fly. Goals: Don’t talk about it, be about it.

VII: Positivity: Goes hand in hand with number 1. I’m a natural-born pessimist trying to transform into my brother. That sounds weirder than it is. He’s this ball of possibility & positivity, kind of like The Secret spit up all over him. I’m more like Eeyore meets Daria meets Chuckie (the Rugrats one, not the creepy psycho doll one) trying to be Olaf meets Happy dwarf meets Dory. I’m a true believer in you get what you put out into the universe, so I’m going to actively make it a point to do some drugs. JKJKJKJKKK..I’m going to actively make it a point to change my negative mindset so that I want to hang out with my mind more often. Goals: Think happy thoughts.

I truly have no idea how much of this I’ll be able to have success with, but if I don’t challenge myself now, then I know I’m going to become this old complacent lady with nothing to show for myself but mediocrity & that’s just a longtime fear that I’m not willing to realize. Wishing you all a kick ass 2018..full of lots of Netflix bingeing, granola eating, juice cleansing, booty shaking, fear facing, goal fulfilling insanity.

See ya on the flip side, y’all.

Today’s Interlude:

Would you hold my hand..if I saw you in heaven? I’ll find my way through night & day..beyond the door, there’s peace I’m sure: A Love Letter

Today’s Mood Ingredients: Angry, Heartbroken, Lost, Relieved.

True Life: I Don’t Process Grief. I pretend nothing ever happened & run to take care of the person who may have been affected the most, and then one day, I feel personally victimized by the Regina Georges of the Kübler-Ross Model & explode all over my nearests & dearests. Here is a hopeful attempt at not having that happen this time around..mostly thanks to my “baby” brother’s influence. “Just write it out”..the Shiv Vaishnav version of UNK. This isn’t for clicks, likes, or shares. This is for my family..& for all of my hearts that are hurting right now as much as I am.

My Ba’s (grandma) letters were legendary. Coveted hot commodities that the whole family would earnestly hope to receive when there happened to be a big event in their lives. The only reason I have ever thought of rushing to get married was so that I could get one of those handwritten scrolls of love, advice, and strength from my best girl. Now, she’s gone..& it’s time that I wrote a love letter to her instead.

Dear Ba aka My Miss Universe,

I’m mad at you. You weren’t supposed to leave me..ever. The educated part of me seems to have disappeared because all I can think of is that you were supposed to be way past chronological aging and live longer than even me. Back to back strokes at 88 and you were up and writing and walking and feeding your crows. Triple hip fracture surgery at 92 and off you were strolling around Gamdevi like you were still 80. You spoiled us; I selfishly thought you were indestructible & that no one would dare take you away from me. 100 was so close & I had already planned everything we would do together for that big day 6 years from now. And then you left more than 6 years too early. And then you left without me. And I’m mad at you.

Married nearly pre-pubescent in a time where women were uneducated, timid, and there solely for procreation, you did more than give birth to 6 children. You taught those children the importance of character, dignity, self-respect, & especially a sense of humor. You taught them the difference between truth and falsities, you gave them principles, you taught them empathy, you showed them how to live with honor. You educated those children, you disciplined those children, you taught them how to be open-minded and open-armed to one and all, and you gave those children unconditional love that I’m sure I’ve seen in every mother, but just somehow not like your special magical kind. And those children have passed along the priceless lessons to theirs and those kids to theirs and so on. You have a strength and a will power I have never seen in my entire life and I’ve been blessed this whole time to be able to feel it and witness it and have pride in it. And I’m mad at you.

You taught me how to not be afraid of fear. You taught me that a woman could do anything with the iron will that you made so infamous in our world. You showed me that tenacity and a pure heart are all you need to get through this life. You made me see that action is greater than intention. You expressed the unbreakable bond between a mother and her daughter and gave me the gift of having that particular relationship with both you and my own momma. You showed me that freedom of speech is more than okay, that it is necessary in this life. You allowed me to see that respect is earned by the life you live and the unselfish deeds you do. And I’m mad at you.

You sang to me more sweetly and with more talent than Lata Mangeshkar ever could. You held my hand when I slept next to you in a single room with a ceiling fan; you being willing to turn on the AC for me even though you knew you’d need extra chaadars (sheets) for yourself. You stood over a hot stove at odd hours because your grandkids wanted only your thepla, no one else’s. You gave me a miniature Hanuman Chalisa because I told you I was suddenly afraid of flying but I’d do anything to traverse the 10,000 miles to see you & to this day, when I’m on a plane I pretend that Hanumanji is holding the plane up & leading it safely to its destination. You told me that marriage isn’t the be-all and end-all because in the words of Beyoncé, “All the women who independent throw ya hands up at me.” (you said that part a little differently than I wrote it just now). You also told me that I deserve love because I have the capacity to give love..and that’s all you really need (that, and a non-ass significant other). 😛 You tried to read the English headlines of The Times of India while I tried to read the Gujarati headlines of Garvi Gujarat and we both succeeded because we are both stubborn and persistent and obsessed with learning new things. You made sure you lit the deevo (lamp) every time I left Bombay for protection and for safe travels. You knowingly let me walk into a flying cockroach because you thought it would be the most hilarious thing, and it was..to you. And I can still hear that jingly giggle as you watched 17-year old me flail about in abject terror, you mischievous child in a geriatric body. You let me play in your saris..the one I still sleep with..the one I made sure always stayed with your fragrance still lingering within the threads of the feather-light fabric. The sari that used to comfort me for the past decade & a half..the same one that now half-comforts me and half-tortures me as of this week. And I’m still mad at you.

I feel like Voldemort. Like my soul has been torn into multiple pieces, but without the darkness or the whole immortality situation..& definitely not on purpose. You always had blind faith in your Kanha that he would lead you where you needed to be and where you would be peaceful..& you left me and mom during Ganeshotsav..so I’m kinda mad at Them all right now too, for tainting mom’s favorite time of the year. But I must get by and “move on”..at least that’s what they tell me. I think what I’m going to do instead is just listen to your voice in my head over the past 3 & a half decades..& be confident and safe in the fact that you will lead me to the place of acceptance without the anger or bitterness of losing one of my best friends in this universe. I’m a little less mad at you.

You loved me like I love you..limitless-ly, abundantly, inimitably. You have finally been granted your last wish over the past few years..to be yourself again; free, independent, strong, and angelic. Your legacy is something that will last long after my own last breath because all of your 6 children, 14 grandchildren, and 18 great-grandchildren and so on will make sure that no one in any lifetime forgets Ramaben Chimanlal Gandhi, and more than that, no one will ever tarnish this future lifeline that you have built. I miss you more than I can express in any possible medium, and your Krishna only knows when I will be able to return to Bombay again, let alone to your home and your room. But all I can give you now is this..

I love you immensely, Miss Universe. In this and every other life..past, present, & future. And..

I could never be mad at you.

Love,

Siddhi

Today’s Wisdom: “No one ever told me that grief felt so like fear. I am not afraid, but the sensation is like being afraid. At other times it feels like being mildly drunk, or concussed. There is a sort of invisible blanket between the world & me. I find it hard to take in what anyone says. Or perhaps, hard to want to take it in. It is so uninteresting. Yet I want the others to be about me. I dread the moments when the house is empty. If only they would talk to one another & not to me.” -C.S. Lewis

Today’s Interlude:

“And creativity, it soaks my soul, I ask not to be alone”; The Artistic Struggle Is Real

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Today’s Mood Ingredients: Unfulfilled, Yearning, Striving, Undone, Explosive.

It’s taken me a long time to feel affected by something enough to unload it onto the internet, but this is one of those long-simmering slow boils that is about to finally pop the top off of the pressure cooker. What is “a creative?” Is it someone who only works in the arts? Is it a social media director? Is it someone who works in public relations? An editor of a magazine? I have no idea as to what concretely defines “a creative” anymore, but I know that I am one. It’s an innate knowledge, probably the only thing I was born sure of, but what I’ve also learned is that at times, it is a G-d damn pain in the ass. Life in the arts, of any kind, is the furthest thing from a smooth ride into a sufficient paycheck & contentedness. It’s definitely easier today than back when I was growing up (and no lie, I’m so envious of these kids attending performing arts high schools and summer dance and drama camps and such, that sometimes I wish I could just be reborn – I’m Hindu-ish, I’m sure it’ll work – and do it all over again).

On any given day, when I go to my routine job in order to fund my passions in design and dance, I’ll be half present. It’s a job that requires organization, work ethic, and some brain power, but not enough that my mind isn’t wandering into my next “masterpiece” of some kind. What’s the strangest ensemble I can put together that I’m sure will push the boundaries of normal construction? What’s the most out-of-the-box movement I can push my body to make in some new choreography? This thought process usually very rapidly progresses to “Why am I not in the arts full-time?” “Why is this not where my life’s funding is coming from?” “Why am I still in healthcare when I quit medical school 7 years ago?” And then come the influx of emotions; disappointment, despondence, whys & what-ifs, sadness, inspiration, rallying, excitement, enthusiasm..lather, rinse, repeat. And those last three words are why as each day goes by, I feel my flame extinguished little by little, slowly but surely.

Why do “creatives” have to struggle to make their contributions matter? We are progressive, we push boundaries, we help people think on alternative planes, we force people to delve deeper into themselves, we sometimes gift people to have the confidence to look deeper into others. So why isn’t creative input as socially important as, for example, a doctor’s? Now, before everyone dumps on me, realize this; I obviously know a doctor has indispensable life-saving skills and they go through a lot to get to that point where their patients trust them enough to literally put their lives in their hands. And yes, of course, a musician or a dancer will need a doctor at some point. But use your right brain for a minute. Have you ever thought about how a musician could possibly be saving a doctor’s life? What about that surgeon in that OR who has been awake for 48 hours not having seen his/her family with someone’s mortality in their hands? What about his/her favorite musician whose labor of love is what they’re playing in the OR to calm their nerves or keep them awake or reach into some emotion or memory or whatever the case may be in order to focus and keep their patient alive & well? We need each other.

The stigma that an artist is a wishy-washy hippie with no real focus or destination is what keeps us all down, the non-artists included. This creative life is an unforgiving, difficult, lonely, misunderstood, emotionally-turmoiled typhoon..that is also the most fulfilling, evolving, magnetic, identifying, truthful, cathartic, satisfying, authentic one. To not be able to wholly live it is soul-crushing..like a permanent Dementor all up in your face. But those with the tenacity and voracity to live that roller coaster, no matter the cost, are the ones that fly. They are the ones who make change happen, not because they are creative, but because they are full of grit & blind determination & the optimism that tells them everything will happen for them in time.

I want to be that person. I have to be that person. And I’ve given myself a deadline on when I will be that person.

Stay tuned..changes, they are a’comin’.

Today’s Wisdom:

“There is a vitality, a life force, an energy, a quickening that is translated through you into action, and because there is only one of you in all of time, this expression is unique. And if you block it, it will never exist through any other medium and it will be lost. The world will not have it. It is not your business to determine how good it is nor how valuable nor how it compares with other expressions. It is your business to keep it yours clearly and directly, to keep the channel open. You do not even have to believe in yourself or your work. You have to keep yourself open and aware to the urges that motivate you. Keep the channel open. No artist is pleased. No satisfaction whatever at any time. There is only a queer divine dissatisfaction, a blessed unrest that keeps us marching and makes us more alive than the others.” -Martha Graham

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Today’s Interlude: “Pure Imagination” from Willy Wonka & The Chocolate Factory

OOTD OD: Street Style Edition

FASHION: Outfit Of The Day Overdose: Street Style Edition

Today’s Mood Ingredients: Trendy, Unique, Weird, Quirky, Vogue-ish.

Even before I turned into a fledgling designer, fashion was my happy bubble. I cut and sewed dresses for my Barbies, made purses from scraps of my mom’s unused fabrics, found pages and pages of sketches in my biology binder, and even made my family watch my “Madame Four Seasons” fashion show set to a Barbie & The Sensations cassette tape when I was 8. As I’ve grown, my style has evolved & it’s become less about trying to wear all of the “it” trends back in school and more about incorporating the “it” trends into my personal wardrobe, and that too, only if they fit my personality. A current Fall 2014 trend calls for purple lip color; I couldn’t even pull that off if I was Barney the dinosaur & it blended in! Another popular trend is the crop top; now that, I can manage for the time being (but mostly while high-waisted bottoms are also still “in” because, let’s be real, no one has those high school abs anymore..except high schoolers and Alessandra Ambrosio).

Certain investments are worth it when it comes to staple wardrobe additions (a black leather jacket, the perfect white shirt, black suede boots, a denim jacket, those perfectly fitting, perfectly worn in jeans, the ideal pencil skirt, some sequins-use discretion there, please, and obviously the classic LBD) because they will either never go out of style or always come back at some point (check out the department stores right now & if you’re my generation, you’ll see a lot of what you probably remember wearing in high school; HELLO, PALAZZO PANTS!?). And by the way, repetition is not the fashion faux pas you think it is. Most of us are everyday folk and not Anna Wintour nor André Leon Talley nor Eva Chen are quite paying attention to what we’re strutting around in. A lot of true style innovation happens when you mix & match things you already own and see them in different ways with a variety of other pieces.

Below are some of my favorite street style looks where I’ve been able to combine pieces from high school (that I’ve hung on to like a pack-rat) with income-friendly additions from your everyday stores like Forever 21, Bakers, Guess, etc. Add one or two trends that you’re comfortable with, a high-end splurge here & there, and some vintage pieces or acquisitions from your travels, and you can still be non-Stepford Wife fashion forward while embracing your own unique flavor (mine is “champagne & cookie dough”). 😉

If there is any ensemble you want more details about, please comment below. Otherwise, I’ll be writing more fashion posts every Tuesday about designers, trends, faves and fauxs, and more, so please stick around! 🙂

*I’m terrible at formatting, so just picture yourself in your favorite street style look in that little gap in photos down there!!