Rising from the ashes: Taking responsibility for whatever shows up

 I have burrowed my head in self-help books for the past couple of years, and the one theme I found in several of them is this: taking responsibility for whatever shows up in our lives. I found this very hard to accept or internalize, and I often found myself saying: But this is not my fault! It was so and so who was so awful. Taking responsibility for this means condoning their behavior, and why should I do that? After my Dad's stroke, I felt that life had been extremely unfair to me. Here were all my friends and peers, enjoying the prime of their lives, traveling, celebrating, and surrounded by parental and familial love. Contrast that to my life: I already had a grueling schedule with my PhD program, and now I had to deal with hospital visits, logistic, and financial woes, not to mention the huge emotional toll. Even when I slept, I had nightmares. I was at the lowest point in my entire life, and I couldn't see how things would get better. 

And so, when I first read a self-help book that asked me to take responsibility, I wanted to scream at the author: What happened has nothing to do with me! Are you implying that this is somehow a punishment because I did something wrong? I was sure that the author was wrong, and my worldview was correct: I had been dealt an awful hand, and it had nothing to do with me or my actions. I was just the unfortunate soul who showed up on the roulette of tragedy that day, and by that logic, things would get better at some point. But that's not how it went. Things continued to deteriorate on multiple fronts, and I dwelled in more misery than I could have conjured up, even in my worst nightmares. Then, I came to an even more depressing realization: I was doomed by this same worldview I stubbornly held on to. If something was entirely out of my control and had nothing to do with me, then I had no power to change it. I could be stuck in this misery forever. 

I hated how this felt, and I was convinced I was missing something. I turned to books again, searching for the elusive answer. How could I maintain my sense of inner peace and calm regardless of what came my way? I realized that taking responsibility does not mean that the other person did nothing wrong, or that we take the blame for their actions. It just means that we fully accept whatever has shown up in our lives without attributing it to external factors. The moment we deflect blame onto something or someone else, we are no longer in control of our own lives. Taking responsibility allows us to fully "own" our lives, and create in it what we want. It also helps us let go of blame, anger, and resentment, which hurt and harm us more than anyone else. 

I have been working on building this mindset for two years now, and it is still a work in progress. But I see the difference, and I am so grateful for it. An example from last week. I had worked without a single break or holiday for the last three months on multiple paper deadlines in parallel with job interviews. There were days when I slept past midnight and woke up at 3.45am. And then, last week, I accepted a job offer, finished my final paper deadline, and decided to take a weekend off at my in-laws' place in Mysore. For the first time in three months, I had a free weekend. I was relaxed, peaceful and happy. I set off on the train smiling. Less than two hours later, even before I reached Mysore, I got a call from my Mom. Your Dad is in the ICU. He was breathless last night, and I rushed him to the hospital. We still don't know what exactly happened, but I think it's cardiac.

My peace and happiness were shattered in just a moment. I went through a gamut of emotions. Worry, anxiety, guilt, uncertainty. Will my Dad make it this time? What if he dies? I should have been there for my Mom. Should I rush back to Bangalore? Rage and anger at life for the sheer unfairness of it all. Why me? Can't I have a single day of happiness without some crisis? When will all this end? I am sick and tired of it. In the past, I would have wallowed in these emotions for days on end. Regardless of whether I stayed or came back, I would be absolutely miserable. My mind would be stuck in thoughts of gloom, despair and anger. This time, once the initial waves of sadness ended, I heard happy voices. I am grateful that my Dad is still alive. 3.5 years ago, none of us thought that was possible. I am glad that this did not happen during my deadlines and job search, that would have been way more stressful. Thank you, Universe, for having my back. I am grateful that my Mom is so strong and capable. She even insisted that I stay for a couple of days instead of rushing back. I am so lucky to have her as my mother.

I moved quickly from bemoaning my fate to simply accepting it as my new reality. There were moments during that weekend when I still struggled: a work meeting where I was unable to focus, a walk where my eyes filled up, phone calls where I feared the worst, and so on. But my days were far from the pit of despair and agony they once had been. I could still hold on to that feeling of peace and calm. This was a huge change that not only helped me but others as well. When I visited my Dad a day later, he felt calmer in my presence. He held on to my words of comfort and strength and was soothed much more than before. I saw a huge difference from previous times, when I would visit him already feeling miserable, and I had nothing to give. When we attain this state of acceptance, letting go of resentment, blame, and guilt, the world takes on a soft glow. Even when things are at their worst, we are able to stay centered and offer a place of comfort to our loved ones. I am grateful to have been on this journey, and finding these islands of calm in the chaos. To acceptance and growth!