Category: Myself

APS, Myself

The Meaning of I

Sanjay Sabarwal

Lately, I have been on auto-pilot for a lot of things. From drowning in noise on Facebook, to not reaching out to my real friends. I have let others and other things determine my days.  I have let too many things to lead me rather than me grabbing life by its throat, and getting things done.   This year has started out rough. A few days after my 41st birthday, I suffered a relatively serious illness due to my condition. I have Antiphospholipid Antibody Syndrome conveniently called APS syndrome (what is it with doctors and their long ass disease names?!).  Simply, I have an auto immune disease where my blood thickens and creates clots.  It was discovered several years back when I woke and could not talk out of the side of my mouth, and drove myself to my primary who immediately saw the signs of a stroke (surprise, now I am a stroke survivor! Who would have thunk it!), and admitted me into the hospital.  So I am sick.

Now I have had two choices. I could either roll around and moan that I am sick, or I could keep moving.  Anyone that knows me knows what I picked up.  Yet, it hasn’t been easy. I cannot take my days for granted anymore.  It is something that I have to remind myself that although I look and mostly feel 100%, I am not.  That’s hard to take for me.  Each morning, I have to wake up and be reminded that I have to work towards being well. Not just physically, but in my thoughts and actions.  There is too much I have allowed to build up.  Too many thoughts and feelings towards people and myself that I have left unsaid.

Yet, it is not easy starting over. In fact, it sucks.  I hate the fact that I cannot work out or that I tire easily after 6 to 8 hours. I hate that I have to parcel out myself to others because I have a nasty habit of blowing up at inconvenient times. I have to relearn a lot of things.  The main thing I have to work on is the word “I.”  I am constantly struggling between just focusing on my pain and being there for others. I have failed many recently because I have been too caught up with myself. The word “I” rules my world and while some days it is justified, it does not make it OK to NOTIMG_0698 see others and their pain.  I know I am better than that.  I have to be better than that because there is no point in life if you cannot contribute to others. So each day starts with a TO-DO list. A list of things I need to do, and be.  A list of reminders that there is more to the world than just me.

So each day starts with the reminder that I am sick.  But each day also starts with “I can be better.” I will be better.  There is no middle ground.

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Myself

The Wondering Lawyer…

Sanjay Sabarwal
English: Icon of Law Firm--owned by user.
English: Icon of Law Firm–owned by user. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Yesterday, I attended the LACBA’s annual wage and hour symposium, and the first thing that struck me was the amount of lawyers who showed up the millennium Biltmore, but more than that, how almost all of them dressed alike. Men in suits, and he women in business outfits with some calves showing and business appropriate beige or black low heels. A majority of them with the obligatory iPhone/blackberry, and/or laptop, the low light of the devices making it feel as I was on Krypton.   Of course, there were some outliers. One wore a Hawaiian  shirt, and another came with a hat, suspenders on blue jeans.  I was in the middle, no jacket, business shirt with no collars and almost too tight pants (that’s what I get for eating all the chocolate I can at night).  The glow of the devices filled the darkened conference room, and I only felt one feeling: Glad.

I am glad, I don’t work as a lawyer. I am glad that I am not in uniform. I am glad that I don’t have to report for duty. Yet, there was a nagging feel that perhaps, just perhaps, I was missing something. And then it hit me that I missed law school.  The camaraderie, the kosher food with my friend Elias, and the nick name “The Three Wise Men” that was given to us by our class mates.  Well, I was Indian, my best friend was black, and the third was an orthodox Jew.  We made quite an impression when we walked the aisles.  Yet it was more than that. I missed knowing the law as an intellectual exercise, but more so I regret never getting actual practice at a law firm.  So I know why I was looking down at the attorneys now, I was preempting my insecurity before it got the best of me.  In some ways, I couldn’t help thinking that they were REAL attorneys while I played one at my business.

Yet as my best friend pointed out, I am selling myself short. I know the basics, and been around issues at my workplace to have a good grasp of employment law as it relates to my industry.  The nagging feeling left after I finished the conference, but I can’t help feeling that I missed out on some parts of being an attorney.  My only consolation now is that I can learn as needed, and I don’t have to punch a clock. Some days, that has to be  enough.

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Journal, My Past, Myself

Oversharing

Sanjay Sabarwal
Image representing Facebook as depicted in Cru...
Image via CrunchBase

I talk too much. I post too much. I tend to do everything too much that pleases me, and when I do something that pleases me, I like to share it. I never thought much about how it affects other people. I just know how I feel, and when something moves me, I like to forward it to people who I think would benefit from me.  A friend of mine advised that perhaps of just blindly forwarding, I explain why I am forwarding to that particular person, because to some it may just look like over sharing.  I know I am struggling with things personally, and I have an inkling that others are too. I just read something that hit me, we are all bozos on a bus.  We all pretend that we are OK when we talk to each other, saving our real feelings only for a few or none.  I lived that life, and it got me an unhappy life.

Yet, my friend has a point. If I quietly forward an email or share on Facebook, what will that person get out of it?  I guess I am afraid of offending them. “Does he really think I need help with exercise?” or “Who does he think he is telling me about depression.”  I create their response in my head and so I forward in silence because I am too afraid to really tell the person what I feel.  It’s also because I am afraid of being rejected if I reach out to the person.  Or it could be that I have this tendency to want to tell people how to live their lives.

I don’t know when I became so afraid when before I would blurt out whatever came to my head.  That also got me in trouble because I usually ended up revealing something about someone that probably shouldn’t have been shared.  That’s been my problem my whole life. I either over share, don’t share enough, or not at all.  I am struggling with my own thoughts and feelings on a constant basis. I realize how whiny this post may seem to some, but I’d rather share than err on the side of not really being myself.  So you’re gonna have to bear with me while I share because I’d rather been seen as a oversharer” than someone who did nothing.

That does not mean I will forward blindly, but if you do happen to get a forward from me that’s not a joke, perhaps, just perhaps I am trying to say something to you politely, or just reach out to you in my way.  If its unwelcome, tell me, but no matter what, tell me something, anything rather than the deafening silence I continually face in my forwarding marathons.

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My Past, Myself

Three Words

Sanjay Sabarwal
A hoodie with the University of California, Lo...
A hoodie with the University of California, Los Angeles trademark. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

 

I don’t know.  The three words I can always count on in my life. I have struggled with who I am for the longest time.  I think that the only time I was sure what I wanted to be was when I won a writing competition in high school (the NCTE) that allowed me acceptance into UCLA. After that, it was one giant slippery slope.  I became unsure if being an English major was enough, then got caught up in promoting and creating events in college (South Asian Youth Conference, Bruin Bhangra,etc) , and I thought I had a knack for it. My family couldn’t afford for me to go, so I took on being a dishwasher as well as doing dorm security to make tuition. I became even more confused. Did I want to just become a write? How will I survive?  So I added Political Science as well, because I thought I was special and could do both. That added another year so I took almost 5 years to graduate.

I still think that college was perhaps the best time of my life because it allowed me to almost figure out who I am, yet in some ways it spoiled me. I avoided real life, and so after college I took on Americorps and ended up in Lexington, Kentucky where I tutored juvenile delinquents in English for a year. Again, I got busy in volunteering, and not really facing myself.  After coming back, I somehow decided on law school at the Southwestern University School of Law, but not in old program, the SCALE program, the only 2 year law program in the country at the time.  I decided to go with being unconventional because it allowed me to avoid real life. So went the story of my life, yet I also know I am not being fair with myself.  I make not knowing seem a bad thing, but what I really mean is my hunger for knowledge has never died.  I like to think it keeps me young. Sometimes saying “I don’t know” is also saying “I want more.”

 

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Myself

Mistakes

Sanjay Sabarwal
Candles
Candles (Photo credit: magnuscanis)

 

I hate when I have to learn from repetitive mistakes.  It seems pointless, even hateful that I continue to make mistakes that seem so clear AFTER the fact.  Yet, that is how we get better, grow and perhaps at some point stop making those mistakes. I never thought I would stop making mistakes, but I did expect that I would get better.   Well, so much for that notion.  It’s not even the continual mistake that I am sorry about, but the fact that I let someone down who expects me to rise above being my usual self. I am too caught up in my pain to see theirs.  Too self-involved.  Too hurt.  Too deep in my self-pity. Too everything as long it involves just me, me, me!

 

Yet, all those are rationalizations. They are nothing more than excuses after the fact.  I am at a loss as to how make the person feel better, and that could lead to even more mistakes.  I thought I was better than that.  That I could learn at any age, and be a better person.  I know I can, yet I also have to deal with the aftermath of my carelessness.  It wasn’t meant to be spiteful but leaving someone alone in their time of need can feel that way to the person.  I was recently told to become more aware of what I say and I do, ad I have to say I still have a long way to go.  I am still too often on auto-pilot, and saying and doing things that are completely unnecessary and hurtful.

 

At this points, words are the assurance I feel I can offer someone, yet even I know that is not enough.  It is time for action. Sometimes being and acting sorry are not even close to being enough.  Sometimes you have to be an adult!

 

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Brownness, Myself, Writing

Spring Cleaning

Sanjay Sabarwal

 

I read somewhere the best way to spring clean is one small area or cupboard at a time.  Yesterday, I started with my medicine cabinet, one of the smallest in my house.  It took me an hour to get rid of expired medications, open packets of various sorts and 15 different kind of pain patches (both wife and I have had at one point or another back spasms), and try to coordinate what medications go on which shelf.  One hour.  And I still wasn’t quite happy with it. It wasn’t as clean as I wanted it to be. It wasn’t shining or perfect the way I wanted it to be, but I finally let it go because I was tempted to go on to another cabinet.  All the while, I could not believe how much crap I had stored in the house ( I can’t blame my wife since I lived at this house by myself for a long time). I wanted at that moment to clean it all!

Feb Challenge Day 24_inside your bathroom cabi...
Feb Challenge Day 24_inside your bathroom cabinet 6 (Photo credit: raganmd)

It kind reminded me of my writing.  I start with a blog post, and the next thing I know I want to write a novel.  Yet I know, it’s a step by step by process but somewhere I fall off. I can’t seem to figure out between doing too much, too little or nothing at all.  I don’t know how to be steady. I don’t know how to take it step by step. It’s as if I am hardwired to either sprint a marathon or sit on the stand and watch others go by me.  I have always been the type to need the recipe or manual on how to do things.  Well, guess what, life doesn’t come with one (no shit Sherlock), and so I flounder. I don’t look at what I have accomplished: a clean drawer and a blog post, but more at what I did not get to.  I read somewhere that you have to acknowledge your successes no matter how small. I think I am more afraid that I will become content with just that, and that is something I am just not willing to accept.  So I push myself. I will spring clean the whole house, and I will be a writer.  There is no middle ground!Back Camera

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