uncertainties

leading by example

I’ve written a bit about Nipun, but this guy is really something. The more I get a chance to indulge in some of the projects he’s set up – by reading more DailyGood newsletters, looking more thoroughly through the helpothers.org community, serving at Karma Kitchen, partaking in Wednesdays – the more I realize how amazing it is how he influences the people around him. All of the talks he gives, he doesn’t talk about ideas or theories, he just shares stories of kindness – things that inspire him, things that make his life awesome.

The Nipun effect makes the people that are inspired by him practice kindness, generosity, and pursue service-minded projects. He does nothing to tell them what’s right vs. wrong, what they could be doing with their skills or anything like that. He just leads by example, and his example inspires people.

I just thought it was really fascinating. Some of the most well-respected leaders of the last century didn’t necessarily TRY to create a movement. They just led by example and scaled up when more people wanted to support them. Really interesting stuff.

why let your gifts get taken away?

First, the guy to my left, Somik, shared a story about his New Year’s Eve – spent at a hospice with a monk. He described two of the elderly men there who repeated the same phrases to him. One repeated asked him, “Are you Eli? Are you Eli?” The other reached out to him and just kept saying, “Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!” He had done nothing to induce conversation with any of these people, and it was clear that they had lost some mental capacity that they once had.

The monk took Somik to the side. “So many of us live long enough to watch as our gifts are slowly taken away. Wouldn’t it be something if we could spend our years giving them away?”

I don’t know what it was, but something about that story hit me so hard. I teared up for a few seconds, but I was next in the sharing circle so I needed to step it up and share like a man. The idea of giving away your gifts is something that really resonated with me, and that’s something I really want to be more conscious of this year. 

smile more

The guy to my right, Pancho, radiated with love. He chose to pass in the sharing circle, but I had heard of him well before Wednesday. I still don’t know him as well as I’d like to, but we’ll be working together at Karma Kitchen on Sunday J.

What I gained most simply from Pancho’s presence, however, is that it’s important to smile more. We get old and develop furrows in our brow because we work so hard. Pancho has a million and one wrinkles on his face, but none of them are in his brow. Every one of them is on the sides of his eyes. The wrinkles from smiling too much. Simply being next to him made me smile more, and I honestly believe that forcing a smile makes you happier. I don’t know what happens physiologically, but it doesn’t matter much to me.

Less of a story, more of an observation.

types of resolutions

Aumatma made the funny point of how everyone in the circle that shared their resolutions had these super meaningful goals – focusing more on the present moment, meditating more, searching for their personal source of negativity and eliminating it, being more conscious of x – so she broke that cycle saying she wanted to shed some pounds. Obviously a joke, but it made me aware of the different shapes resolutions can take. As far as my perception takes me, I broke them down into three types – self-internal, self-external, selfless.

All of those deep resolutions would be self-internal. The weight loss, the exercise more, redesigning a house, getting a project done or whatever – those are self-external. Selfless would be a resolution to serve, to do something in the spirit of compassion without expectation. That can take form in many ways, but I think that it’s this last type of resolution that doesn’t get enough attention. I think it’d be great to make one type of each one of these resolutions a year.

I’m a big believer that you can make a change whenever you want. There’s little significance to January 1, but what’s really special about it is the spirit of change that’s in the air. The communal change that’s being made (or at least, attempted) is really inspiring, and I think there should be more organized attempts to leverage the power of communities. One of these attempts is something I’ve been working on with Chaz Howard, the chaplain at Penn called Resolution11. It’s a humble attempt, but I think it has the right idea (if I do say so myself J). 

lessons from wednesdays

The Wednesday night meditation circle at Nipun’s parents’ house works as such:

• 7pm – 8pm: sit anywhere any meditate silently
• 8pm – 9pm: sit in sharing circle, discuss passage of the week or any thoughts you might have
• 9pm – 10pm: vegetarian dinner served to everyone and enjoyed in silence

Anyone and everyone is welcome, and they’ve been doing this every Wednesday for 13 years. On average, 30 – 60 people show up.

As the passage of the week was discussed, I was getting increasingly nervous by the philosophical nature of it. I understood maybe 20% of it. I remembered about 5% of it. Way beyond my head (how’s that for an ivy league education?). As we went around the circle, some discussed their thoughts on the passage, others shared their new year’s resolutions, others shared their thoughts on…whatever was resonating with them at the moment.

There were four things that really struck me during the sharing circle, which I’ll describe in the next four posts.

beneath the surface

There are some life lessons that are preached so regularly they are overdone. No one cares anymore and consequentially, they become one of those things everyone knows but nobody acts on. One of those lessons, for me personally, is that everyone has their own story. You never know where they’re coming from. You might not acknowledge that they’ve lived for as many days as they have, and there were a lot of things happening that shaped who they are today.

For me, that reminder came the other day in the shape of a dog. And the smell of a dog, feel of a dog, and…well, it was a dog.

There’s a dog at the office that Monsoon works at in conjunction with another guy. I don’t know what he does, but I think his name is Jimmy, and he always brings his dog to the office. When I first walked in, I saw the dog and semi-freaked out. I love quiet dogs, but I am terrified of that ring-the-doorbell-and-induce-five-straight-minutes-of-nonstop-barking-and-foot-sniffing-and-potential-licking-and-or-biting effect. I saw the dog through the glass door and was ready to tense up and hold my breath until it left. Instead, the dog just looked at me and walked away. For the next few days, I grew quite fond of the dog. It just roamed the office quietly. Never made a peep.

It was so quiet that I even made an attempt to reach out and let it lick my hand. That kind of behavior is absolutely preposterous for me, but I thought I’d give it a shot. The dog looked at me funny. I got closer and it ran away. I was really confused, but I thought little of it.

The next day, I find out that the dog was a victim of animal abuse. The previous owner treated it like shit and instilled within the dog a fear of humans getting close. I’d never interacted with a dog that was scared of people. Then again, I consciously choose to interact with dogs…close to never.

I’m not the first to admit that I do let first impressions affect my impression of people. I also won’t deny that I just judge people based on appearance, passing them on the street, but I think it’s really something special when you try to learn about someone’s story to understand them. At the least, understand that there’s a reason behind everything. 

gather

This has nothing to do with inspiration, but everything to do with one of the most phenomenal meals I’ve ever had.

I’ve been lucky enough to spend my working days having lunch with Sandeep, who’s been gracious enough to hook me up with some baller lunches (on the company, of course :P). On Tuesday, we went to Gather, which is, according to Sandeep, the best restaurant in the world. Setting the bar pretty high, I was really hoping his hype would be met with food of equal deliciousness. 

And it was.

I saw the menu, and there wasn’t a single thing that didn’t look appetizing. After skimming through the various pizza and sandwich options, I decided on the mushroom pizza with a kale salad appetizer, washed down with house made pomegranate kombucha. I saw a few people eating the pizza while I walked in, and it looked like nothing I couldn’t handle.

To my surprise, I was satiated after half of pizza, made with the most unreal dough I’ve ever experienced. It had a way with melting in the mouth while managing to stay just perfectly chewy. It didn’t make sense to me, but I let it go as I noticed how well the cheese’s texture complemented that of the dough. Unbelievable. The different types of marinated mushrooms was just icing on the cake (or…mushrooms on the pizza).

I quit the pizza for a bit as the kale salad on the table was giving me those “eat me” eyes. I couldn’t resist. Tossed together with an appropriate amount of olive oil, sea salt, shredded cheese, some relative of squash and carrots cooked just right, olives (THAT I ACTUALLY LIKED; I normally cannot stand olives!), and tomatoes that you knew were vine-ripened, it was delightfully heavy. I stomached all of it just fine because, well, I’m something of a tank when it comes to taking in good food. Nothing really stops me on that end.

I went back to the pizza and ended up saving two slices for home (which is going to be dinner tonight J), and forcefully followed that up with the house ice cream of the day – something crème cheese something blueberry something awesomeness. I have no recollection of the name, but it sounded so good out of the waitress’s mouth that I had to get it (clearly my taste buds trump my stomach’s desires. It was ready to explode). It was like the best cheesecake I’d ever had, except blended up and served as ice cream with two biscuits that tasted as if they were handmade specifically for me. Unbelievable.

This has nothing to do with revelations, life lessons, or anything of that nature, but this meal was just…really something to remember. I wish I were better at documenting flavor because I don’t think I did this meal justice with this post, and I might just be wasting your time by writing about it all, but man, it was good.

The point? Go to Gather.  It’s good. 

"There is a whole world working together on our behalf."

a poster at cafe gratitude

“i am marvelous” (aka awesome hot chocolate) at cafe gratitude

pay it forward

The idea of paying it forward isn’t one that is at all unfamiliar to me. I’ve experimented with it here and there, but I’ve never been so intensely surrounded by it – Karma Kitchen, the people I was staying with, etc.. I always viewed anything good I did for anyone at all an act of paying it forward. I had never actually taken part in paying it forward with money though.

After a day at Karma Kitchen, I went to the juice bar that Chris and Aumatma run together and grabbed an awesome green smoothie that Chris billed me for with a Smile card. I gave him a look and said, “Come on. You don’t have to do that.”

He smiles and responds, “You know how it works.”

Instinctively, I dropped a $10 on the table. I knew the smoothie didn’t cost that much, and normally, I don’t go to juice bars because I make all the same juices and smoothies myself for a fraction of the cost and…I just don’t like spending that kind of money. The generosity I was stuffed with just pulled that $10 out of my pocket, though, and nothing about it felt wrong. It was really just…good. 

sidenote: pay-it-forward should become a thing. “pif it” for short. i think it could catch on.

community tables

I think one of the most distinct characteristics I’ve noted about some of the places I’ve been here is the community-focused vibe that’s created. There’s genuine purpose behind some of the restaurants and businesses here (and I know that isn’t exclusive to Berkeley), and that purpose is often fostered and maintained by the people that make those businesses possible.

The community tables at Karma Kitchen and Café Gratitude are two examples of how the mission is supported by the people. The environment is created for people to meet, to learn, to inspire one another, and that – to me – is really something special. I never thought of having a table at a restaurant designed for the purpose of community being built. 

Another place where that idea has been illustrated to me was on a tour of an office building here. A concept totally new to me was that of coworking. Office spaces were created for anyone to use, for some amount of money a month, in the presence of everyone else who decided to work there. These were huge, fun office spaces that catered to creative minds and the bouncing back of ideas between people who were working on separate things but just wanted a community to work with. The office space I visited was one filled with social entrepreneurs working on their own projects, but they were working around other social entrepreneurs in a space where they could learn from and inspire one another. It was a really fascinating idea that really struck a chord with me.

I really love how strong communities are here, and if there were one thing that brought me to live in Berkeley after college, it would probably be the power of those communities and how much inspiration there is just waiting to be infiltrate my the pores of the people that make them up.

hippie business

Several times while here, people have asked me if I meditate. I don’t. I like to think I appreciate meditation, but I can’t even say that I do, considering I’ve only given it a shot 2-3 times since 2007. The first time I heard the question, I brushed it off as random hippie business that I would hear in California. I heard it again. Hippie business. I heard it again. Hippie business.

Later in the week, I passed by a bikram yoga joint, and recalling that every bikram spot has a intro week offer (aka a bunch of yoga for a fraction of the usual price), I thought it’d be a sweet opportunity to get back into shape and take part in something that I hadn’t done in a year or two.

I sat there dripping sweat in the first few minutes, constantly being reminded of the heat of Varanasi. The practice is supposed to entail focus and mental stillness. You’re not supposed to wipe the sweat or be bothered by it, really, as the focus is supposed to be on the self. I couldn’t keep my mind in one place, as I couldn’t stop thinking about how unflexible I’d become, how there were drips of sweat waiting to be smacked off the tip of my nose, my cheekbones, my chip, my earlobes, my elbows, everything, how I hadn’t actually taken a look at myself without a shirt on in weeks and how I had a few pounds to lose, how the ripped guy and the girl in front of me – decked out in their yoga gear – put me to shame with every one of the 26 positions.

When I was done, I figured it was a good opportunity to remind myself that I had some work to do, physically and mentally speaking.

I haven’t been able to focus and just…reflect effectively as of late, and that’s strongly due to the fact that I just never give myself a chance to breathe. When I have too much to do, I have trouble focusing. When I have too little to do, I act hastily.

The day after bikram, I went to Wednesday night meditation at Nipun’s parents’ house (more on that later), and I sat for half an hour to meditate.  I was late, so I didn’t get the full hour. I had never really meditated, so I didn’t know what I was doing, but I went with what I’ve always heard – “let thoughts come and go. Don’t hold onto them. Focus on your breath. Just let things be.” All these abstract concepts that I didn’t know what to do with, but upon closing my eyes, I just…sat. I don’t quite know how to describe it, and I won’t bother making that attempt because I’d ramble even more than I already do, but that half hour felt like ages. It was restful and liberating, and I was extremely appreciative that I went to the event, as it taught me that meditation is something that you actually have to try.

It’s not hippie business. It’s not weird or new age. It’s certainly not easy, but it’s worth trying. For me, it helped me focus and be more conscious of the present moment (another abstract concept that I have zero place trying to discuss), and although I’ve regularly been exposed to people who do that sort of thing, I never gave it a solid chance. I’m glad I did though.

the kk krew on jan2

karma kitchen

Almost like the KKK, except one letter short and…not like the KKK.

Within eight hours of my stepping foot in the state, I was on my way to the Karma Kitchen, an Indian restaurant turned service experiment every Sunday. It’s run by ten volunteers every week in the spirit of service where the previous week’s customers pay for the those of the present week. That said, the bill at the end of the meal is $0.00. The customer is given the option to contribute as much or as little as they want, as this is run on the idea of a gift economy. A well-off couple might pay $50 for their lunch while a homeless man might give the $3 in his pocket. Ultimately, the generosity of people ensure that it all works out on the positive side (of the balance sheet and the human spirit).

I heard about KK in 2007 when I first met Nipun and had always wanted to volunteer, so this was my chance. I met the other volunteers at 9:30am, afraid that they’d all be super experienced with this sort of thing and that I might serve as an impediment to the functioning of the restaurant, but it was no such thing. This was a crowd that embraced the intention.

That said, I was one of three servers for the day. I looked forward to the opportunity to interact with the subjects of our little service experiment, but that opportunity soon became less apparent on the surface, as this was a particularly busy day at the restaurant. There were about 40 seats in the restaurant, and in 3 hours, we served ~150 people, which had to be a record of some sort (not that I have any frame of reference, but…it was a lot).  

I didn’t stop moving, talking to people, learning what led them to KK, hearing their philosophies on pretty much anything, thanking them for their spirit and help in making this experiment possible, and, most importantly, smiling. Nothing about the experience was stressful because the community that made it possible did it from the heart. There was no expectation of anything in return.

It’s funny. You might expect the people who would get involved with this to be filled by either monks, hippies, new age spiritualists, or some combination of the above. Sure, we did get our fair share of those, but we also got a traveling group from Spain that heard about this across the Atlantic, a group of Harvard undergrads that were intrigued by the idea of gift economy, and diverse families that loved that weekly dose of inspiration.

Some people wanted to start KK in their own area. Some wanted to just enjoy a meal with family and a beautiful community. Some wanted to come in by themselves and sit at the “community table” – a place for anyone and everyone to sit with people they might not know.

This was a testament to the fact that generosity and kindness of spirit wasn’t particular to any group. It was universal to humans, and sometimes, it just takes an inspiring community to trigger it.

I could probably talk about this forever, but I’ll be there again on the 9^th, so I’ll save more reflection on that for that evening.