Nikki's Thinking Out Loud
The India Episodes
The Chaos Entry: India is a metaphor for my life.
A lot is going on in my life right now, and this India adventure has serendipitously positioned its chaotic beauty right in the center of it all.
Last December, my parents and I had “the talk.” The one that is hard and emotional, and that signifies and reminds us that life is precious and finite, and that the design of our living and our dying is a gift that we can embrace rather than fear. Through iterations and creative thinking, as an extended family unit of multiple generations, we decided it would be ideal if we could design a space and place that allows us to thrive in this next season of life.
That next season is different for each of us:
Mason, my son, will be embarking on the journey of high school, where he will find both challenges in the academic work but also have the chance to develop even more of what and who he wants to be.
Ella, my daughter, turned 18 and is off to begin her college experience, where she will find her own life and refine her sense of self outside of our family unit.
Michael and I turn 50 this year, which means different things to each of us for many reasons —deeply personal, selfishly superficial, and dutifully pragmatic. We have been through some very difficult moments in the last decade, and we are ready for our next act, partnering together for what we hope is our best run of show.
My parents are finding their way as they navigate the very last season of life. Like every challenge they have encountered, they choose to face it head-on, with grace, fury, brutal honesty, and ultimately, a love for each other and for our family.
So, approaching our India adventure, we have been preparing our homes for sale, uncoupling our collective things that we’ve acquired over lifetimes and inherited from people long gone. We have been scrubbing our spaces, tidying our things, readying each part for what comes next. Letting go, holding on, wrestling with, and approaching uncertainty with as much openness as one can muster when it all seems out of control.
While we traveled through Delhi, photos were taken of my parents’ house, and the listing was created and posted, and an open house was held. As we traveled to Agra to experience the spirituality of the Taj Mahal, we received offers to navigate with a 9-and-a-half hour time zone difference. When we moved to Jaipur, Ella was chosen to perform in the Gene Kelly Awards, Mason completed his stage management of Frozen the Musical at Falk, and Michael managed to go to the memorial for a dear friend’s mom, juggle the 14 million drop offs and pickups of our children and their schedules, facilitate a deep clean of our house, and coordinate the listing picture shoot at our home (while working, managing the dogs, and dealing with my panic-texts at the early morning, and my accidental night calls). In the middle of the night, resting after a safari at the Ranthambhore Tiger Reserve, we reviewed the contract for a solid offer for my parents’ house and signed it. I sent out 2 more resumes for potential jobs (asked for my friends to send a bazillion letters of reference to a job I really want), reached out to my girlfriends at home to orchestrate helping Ella ready for prom (filled with guilt), reviewed commencement details (thanks for the late notice, CAPA), checked in with the clients I left for three weeks abroad, and finished up a grant that is due May 30th. Michael took a video tour of another potential multigenerational home, unloaded more of our stuff at Goodwill, and is trying to maintain a show-ready home for our upcoming open house on June 1.
Oh, and did I mention that we are all collectively trying to move to the Front Range in Colorado?
And yet, we are still standing. There has been crying, fear, cold feet, arguing, and many sleepless nights. Are we doing the right thing? How can we possibly thread all of these pieces together? Why am I scared? Why are we doing this? Can’t we just take an easier path? Why are you doing this now? Can’t you do this piecemeal? It seems like too much too fast; can’t you think about it more?
We have. I have.
It might end up being a big exploding crater, as my dear work wife would say, but it is important to try. What would happen if we didn’t try something new?
This is what India has taught me —nearly 30 years ago and now again, this time with my old lady wisdom wrapped up in my dupatta.
It is in the unknown, the ridiculously uncomfortable, the juggling moments that feel so dangerously uncertain, that I can feel my heart beat, I can see the true beauty in the simple moments, and can feel the anger and intensity of positive feelings that are humbling and human.
I sometimes write panic texts to my closest friends. I have been gifted with the most beautiful friendships, and when Michael and I have been in the darkest of messes, these extraordinary humans shove their way in and put their arms/words/comfort around us without so much as a question.
I had one of those moments a few days ago. And her response reminded me that we are all here to live our best and most spectacular life, and that change helps us grow and discover new things about ourselves and this crazy planet we’ve been lucky enough to walk on.
“I do believe you are strong enough to endure the messy parts,” she said. “I’ve watched you and Mike pull through some hard shit. You are a team, and I believe it’ll make you better.”
“You are brave,” she said.
Uncertainty is the only constant right now, and I think that I’m seeing examples of this daily, with a dose of humility, the power of presence, and the opportunity to embrace the unknown with joy.
As cliché as it might be, thank you, India. For reminding me that chaos can be enlightening, that the unknown and mysterious can be a path to curiosity and understanding, and that I can endure the mess to see the beauty of the big picture and a life worth living.
Oh, and one more thing(s):
I have a new love and appreciation for Ganesh (see above photo). He is the playful god, and one reason he is such a beloved deity is that people believe he can remove the obstacles of life. Now isn’t that beautiful?
If you don’t believe in organized chaos, you should. It is the way that people embrace travel on roads, without judgment, anger, or road rage. Honking is a technique used to communicate, as if it were a language all its own.
What questions do you have? What are you curious to know? Pop a thought or insight or question below…I’d love to hear from you.