Yet Untitled 088 - Without a Crutch
Thoughts around hoodies, being the youngest sibling and 'shoten-zenjin'.
Prologue
It’s early in the morning. My yoga teacher explains an asana to me. He has his hand on my chest as he speaks and he applies pressure on either side of my sternum with his index finger and thumb, as if opening out my chest. The action has nothing to do in particular with the asana he’s telling me about, but I know that in the past he’s told me and the rest of the class about the importance of moving our shoulder blades towards each other in all asanas to open the chest.
Hours into my day, the sense memory of his fingers opening my chest lingers.
Ten years later, I can still feel him doing it.
Dearest Yet Untitler
I was packing for a trip and I caught myself looking at a hoodie; not just any hoodie but my go-to hoodie, the one that always accompanies me wherever I go. Recently, on impulse, I bought another zippered semi-warm garment that - because of undeniable fluffiness and formidable packability - began to encroach on the territory occupied by my go-to hoodie. I began to entertain the thought - shall I leave my go-to hoodie behind and take the new one?
The go-to hoodie found itself packed and unpacked several times. I balked at the thought of the subtle problems that may arise if I was away from home and I did not have the comfort of this garment. There’s nothing particularly special about this hoodie, by the way, other than the fact that it has just the right footprint and just the right utility for this humble writer of weekly newsletters. Not too warm. Not too flashy. Light. Does the job. Keeps me warm enough on a flight. Keeps me cozy in a studio.
The same process repeated itself for a selection of camera equipment. And toiletries. And medicines. In the end I found myself thinking about crutches. And in a sudden moment - thunder clapping and lightning flashing - this instalment was born..!
The thought of leaving my go-to hoodie behind, I noted, was a minimalist version of ‘embarking on an adventure into uncharted waters’. I know that versions of this micro feeling happen every time I travel. Hard decisions have to be taken because I cannot carry everything that gives me comfort everywhere. There’s always something important being left behind and this gives me this same micro-dose of anxiety. I find myself thinking - will I still manage to achieve maximum utility with this particular configuration of articles that I have carried? Did I do the wrong thing by not carrying that set of shoes for this particular trip?
Crutches. Is there a negative connotation to the word? Crutches are used when you are impaired in some way. I recently directed a narrative series for the first time (of course you know, I wrote about it till the cows came home!) and I was very glad to have a very senior director directing alongside me. Would I consider her a crutch? If a crutch is something that could allow me to walk if my legs weren’t doing their job, then yes, my beloved co-director who held me up and taught me to thrive despite the challenges I faced, was a sort of crutch.
Now - I’ll be directing again soon. And I’m fretting, thinking - I do not want to leave home for the film set without my beloved, encouraging director-friend beside me.
I do not like the word - ‘crutch’. But the word surfaced nonetheless. I’ve spent some time thinking about why this particular word surfaced in the context of the feelings around leaving my go-to hoodie behind.
It’s pretty clear to me that the word is surfacing because of a sense of inadequacy - that I’m somehow less capable without my hoodie, or the good people around me who catch me when I stumble.
Somehow, I know that this is rooted in the way I relate to being a youngest sibling. As the youngest in my family, I have been at the receiving end of my family’s (bless them) protective instincts. I can see myself replicating those same instincts towards my daughters - to not let the sharp edges of the world graze them. But the passage of time invariably nudges me towards the front lines of life - as a dad, as a director, as a responsible adult - more and more without the usual suspects present to absorb the shock.
Interesting.
Now I can understand this instinct to occasionally and deliberately leave my various small comforts behind. Maybe it’s me trying to show myself that despite those little pinpricks of disorientation I feel without my little comforts - my go-to hoodies, my camera clips, my various backpacks, my bullet-journal - I will be ok. I’m hoping that somewhere - at a deeper level - my life sees that even if…when… I’m on my own on the front lines without these/them, I’ll be ok.
However.
Ringo Starr sang eloquently about Getting By With a Little Help from (his) Friends. I have a theory that all the eldest brothers and sisters among us gear themselves to be alone on the front lines of life, because that’s what life asked of them. Mostly, because of this internal acceptance, they press on and do their best not really expecting any help from anyone. As a youngest sibling, however, I find myself more equipped to ask for help, never really seeing any shame in doing so. Usually - like my beloved director friend, and so many others who I just don’t have the space to name here - help emerges for me from all quarters.
Interesting.
I feel I’ve always been lucky in finding the support I need for anything, and here I am, realising that I am slightly embarrassed about this.
There’s a beautiful phrase in Buddhism - Shoten Zenjin - that refers to the protective functions of the universe, usually manifesting as helpful humans around us, appearing to safeguard those who serve to protect life themselves. My seven years of Buddhist practice has taught me to be aware of Shoten Zenjin around me, also making it a kind of imperative to be grateful for these shoten zenjin, and for any kind of protection received.
Perhaps it’s my ego that starts to play havoc when faced with feelings of inadequacy. I realise as I write that this is a useless feeling, especially when seen in the light of the alternative possibility of gratitude.
Thinking in terms of faith, in terms of gratitude - in terms of shoten zenjin rather than Crutches - feels so much more truthful, so much healthier. It counters all any feeling rooted in a lack of faith - in a life that has time and again shown me that it’s got my back - mostly via the wonderful people it’s thrown my way. It makes this writer of weekly newsletters stop thinking of himself as a perpetual junior and count himself among every other ordinary person like himself - all of whom could invariably use a little help from their friends.
Thank you for listening!
Lots of love
V
Epilogue
It’s late in the evening. I’m on holiday and I’m angry with one of my daughters. She’s behaved badly and I worry for her. In an unnecessarily philosophical moment, I tell her that we only have a limited amount of time together to influence each other for the better. She uses the opportunity to change the topic, asking me where the hell I’m going, veering the conversation towards sadness. I stop, returning to the memory of her bad behaviour, running up against my anger that I thought I’d sidestepped.
Then, I remember my yoga teacher. I remember the impression of his fingers on either side of my sternum, opening my chest.
I start again with my daughter. I decide to do my best knowing that one day - I’m just going to be an impression, nothing more. A silhouette sitting against a pink, darkening sky. But, oddly, this doesn’t make me sad. I sharpen my senses, tap into my ingenuity.
I determine to do better.
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What a beautiful essay. You were very much my hoodie, my shorten zenjin, like a solid ROCK by my side when I needed you. On shoot and now as we go through life. I’m an “eldest” but I def need my friends to journey through the ups and downs of life. It’s the best thing of NOTORIOUS that you and Neha came into my life. Love you V from the bottom of my heart.
I have a favourite hoodie too. I hate it when it becomes a little too worn out to be decent. And then it is time to buy another