When I was 30…

When I was 30, I aspired to be a published author in a decade. I quit my high profile job with The Times of India when I was 38 because I couldn’t focus on realising my dream. It was a difficult decision. Extremely difficult. Not only was I addicted to my pay cheque but also to the attention and adulation I received as the editor of the country’s leading publication. But then, you can’t swim if you hold on to the shore, can you? So I took the plunge, a leap of faith. It was terrifying initially. From the age of 23, I woke up every morning with the goal of reaching my workplace. Now, with that goal not being the goal any more, I felt lost. We undermine the virtue of routine often. But when we’re out of it with no hope of getting back to it, it’s scary. I was groping in the dark until one day I decided to turn the switch on. The switch of self motivation. But before I got to that point, for several days and nights, I did nothing. And doing nothing is unnerving. I mean, personally I was okay. Finally, I had time to pause and smell the roses, in a manner of speaking. I had time to spend with my 16 year old son who had just entered his college. For the first time ever, I was home when he left and when he got back. I wasn’t in a rush to gulp down food or leave a movie half way because I had a crisis at work. Yet, I felt a void, a deep emptiness, as if a major part of me, like a limb or something was missing. I was moping and it was not for a person! That’s when I was hit by the epiphany that my work had become my identity. Was it good or bad? Like the bard says – There is nothing good or bad, only thinking makes it so. In a nutshell, it took me a long time to let go and go with the flow. My next post will be on life when I turned 40…

Published by Vanaja Banagiri

Author, Editor, Poet, Art Promoter

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