If three people gossip at my funeral, I do not want them to say – Alas, she had so much potential. It would kill me. Maybe that’s the reason I died. Assume non-linear timelines.

I’ve always hated the idea of it. It’s my greatest fear. Basking in the glory of all my potential. And never realising it. Never fulfilling it. Never leaving the world better than it was before 1:27 PM on May 26, 2002.

And the only way to ensure this doesn’t happen is: More doing + Less cribbing.

More doing: Ruthless consistency. Action. Eating the frog. Grit. Putting myself out there. Sticking to my commitments. Trying new things. Meeting more people. Trying more new things. Doing my bit in the compounding equation. Patience. Baby steps. Mammoth steps. Whatever it takes. Risks. Sacrifices. Priorities. Hard choices. Finding bigger challenges. Ruthless. Consistency.

Less cribbing: Patience. Being okay to fail. Trusting the long term picture. Not beating myself over what didn’t happen. Learning from mistakes and moving on. What you can vs can’t control. All that.

Need to be better at both. Learning. Potential ka achaar nahi daal sakti.

Ambiguity

Our biggest un-sell at Decoding Draupadi is insane ambiguity.

Every day, we’re finding new problems and figuring out solutions. There is never a prescribed SOP to solve for these. But we know how to go about solving them. And over the last year and half, we’ve learnt not to give up when faced with the great unknown. And to be okay to fail.

I think about this a lot. Especially in our hiring calls. If there’s one thing everyone who’s applied to work with us, it’s this – We are a super ambiguous setup. We know where we are headed. And why. We don’t know how to get there. That’s why you’re with us. Most briefs will often be a problem. And a possible direction. You will have to find your own ways. There’s no do-this-then-that document to spoon-feed you. Which could either be really fun and exciting. Or super daunting and confusing.

But if you have a mind of your own, enough smarts to Google, ask questions and the patience to try-fail-repeat, you’d enjoy the process. I do.

Nobody teaches you that. No one taught me at least. Not school. Not college. Not family. Not friends.

You really just pick a pretty mountain and decide to move it.

Talking it out

I am terrible at conflict resolution. I am learning. But I am terrible.

I would rather ostrich away in burning hot sand than have to confront. Bring up my feelings. Mention that I felt bad. Etc. Etc. Maybe I am just a closet people-pleaser? I’d only pick a fight if I trust the relationship would find it’s way back. And that there’s space to entertain my silly little feelings?

So, I want to be better at it. Don’t know how. But that.

Hon’ble mention: @ChandniDD. I’ve known C for 1y and 8mos now. And we do a lot of things together. DD is our most demanding baby. And there are SO MANY silly, little, stupid fights. And big, little, sensible fights. And the only reason we’ve not bitten each other’s heads off is by drumrolls talking-it-out. C, thank you for offering me the space, patience and confidence for it.

Frivolity and butterflies

In the Ali Abdaal book where I found this quote by, G. K. Chesterton,

In frivolity, there is a lightness which can rise. In seriousness, there is a gravity that falls, like stone.

And the first image that comes to mind is a bunch of beautiful, blue morphos in a spring garden.

I am a silly, easy-going person. On most days, I am not a fan of it. But it is also my most comfortable, natural way of being. I am honest and genuine and well-meaning and all that. But not serious. Not too particular. Not dull. On most days.

And I’ve realised that the seriousness I want to be dealt with or the way I want to be – I’ve seen it with my family and idealised it. People in places of power, more feared than respected. A picture of sky-high egos. And as much as I’d hate to admit, I’ve inherited that desire too.

So while my best self is a happy-go-lucky butterfly, I’ve been praised + rewarded + taught to be a grim not-reaper. But something serious. A dash of snob. A garnish of pride. Just a tiny pinch.

But here’s the point: While I might reject the idea of pride + ego, I can not break away from it. But I am also the happiest at my chillest. So, the two halves of my brain are always at loggerheads.

If I could intentionally choose one, I’d be sincere. Not serious.

Learning, again. Always a work-in-progress. Or as Buckminster Fuller said, I seem to be a verb.

See you around,

Anshika!