How To Deal With Depression - One Simple and Effective Method

How To Deal With Depression - One Simple and Effective Method

https://youtu.be/U1fiWTbRGiI

Is Your comfort Zone Killing you without you even knowing it?

Muru  https://youtu.be/ZXFNz-m_erY

#SelfHelp 

Is Your comfort Zone Killing you without you even knowing it?

How to break free of your comfort zone?

Is Your Comfort Zone Killing You, even without you knowing it?

This video explains how we fall into the comfort zone trap and how our comfort zone is limiting our growth. 

Break out of your comfort zone and live your dream.

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Youtube Video - How To Deal With Gossips and Toxic Comments

In thisYoutube Video I talked about 'How To Deal With Gossips and Toxic Comments'

Youtube Video - How To Deal With Gossips and Toxic Comments 

This is the link. https://youtu.be/RAs-4r0NH7A

Online Interview with First Malaysians to summit Everest

Online Interview with First Malaysians to summit Everest 

During the MCO  interviewed the first Malaysians to summit Mount Everest. I have edited and uploaded the Video on Youtube. I have also added some photos. Can watch the video here. Please subscribe to the Channel for more such videos.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OZ_U1eoTYLI

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OZ_U1eoTYLI

The Old Papaya Tree

The Old Papaya Tree 

I have a tall big papaya tree at the back of my house.  Probably 20 feet tall. The tree has gotten old and its’ roots has become a threat to my drain.  Besides, the fruits were getting smaller and irregular in size.

It is time to cut it down and so I did. I threw the chopped up trunk and leaves into a compost heap. As I saw the pieces of the tree on that heap, a feeling of sadness came over me.

I do not know how that tree ended up growing in my back yard. I didn’t plant it. Probably grew out of some seeds that I threw or from some bird droppings. First saw it when it was about 6 inches tall. It grew. I allowed it. Didn’t water it, thou. It gave fruits; big ones, over a foot long. Tender, mildly sweet fruits. I ate it all up. And it kept giving fruits. That tree has nourished me, my family and friends. Nothing in return was asked of me. That tree has given me so much, unasked and unconditionally. I am eternally grateful for it.

The tree trunk and leaves will decay and become part of the soil, one with the earth. It came from the earth and to earth it shall return. Even then, it will nourish other plants. 

Perhaps some of its’ seeds that I have thrown in the yard will sprout and come to life again as another tree. 

A part that plant lives in me. It lives as molecules in my body, from all the fruits that I ate. It lives as memories in my mind, in its giving, in its unqualified generosity and love.  

One day, this too will die. The body will return to the earth and nourish other life forms. Whether it lives on in anyone’s memory, depends if it has given itself when living, in kindness and love. 

Life is a circle.

Muru

https://www.wattpad.com/864164534-the-world-is-my-classroom-the-universe-is-my

https://medium.com/@murugesansinnandavar/the-old-papaya-tree-43b304303772

If Ants Can Do It, So Can We

28th March, 2020

If Ants Can Do It, So Can We

I have a compost pit at the back of my house. I throw dried leaves and cut branches into it and let it decompose. I dug the pit two years ago and have kept heaping cut vegetation in it from time to time.

Now that I have ample time and in dire need of exercise, I decided to dig up  the pit and collect the compost. I saw nice black soil as I cleared the top layer. 

There was an ant nest partially built in the black soil and partially in the yellow soil that formed the wall of the pit. I must have disturbed the nest as little black ants were scrambling all over as I was digging. 

Being the brave warrior that I am, undeterred by the vicious ant attacks, I collected the rich black earth into three large plastic basins. 

I moved the basins to another place and started removing dried twigs from the heap. Ants were still scrambling in the basins as I combed the soil with my garden fork.

As I progressed to the third basin, I noticed something strange happening in the first basin. Tiny white dots, barely noticeable, as if by magic, started appearing on top of the black soil in the first basin. The same thing was happening on the second basin, only this had less white dots but steadily increasing as time went by. Tiny little dots started appearing on the third basin as well as I left it alone.

What unfolded was fascinating. Little worker ants were bringing the white   little ‘dots' to the surface and go back into the soil, probably to bring up more. In about ten minutes, all the three basins were sprinkled with tiny little white dots.

I decided to leave the basins in the garden and call it a day. It was getting dark.

I went back to my garden two days later to check on the basins. All the white dots were gone. So had the black ants from the basins. I looked around and noticed a new ant nest at the other end of the pit. The ants have moved and  were building a new nest. I just destroyed their nest two days ago and they had a new colony up and going in no time.

I googled about the tiny little white ‘dots’. They were eggs. Ant eggs. The little black worker ants had instinctively rescued their unborn young. That’s the first thing they did, besides attacking me. I don’t think the Queen Ant or anyone else in charge gave out the orders. The worker ants just did what had to be done. They saved their eggs or the next generation so to speak.

They must have regrouped over the night or the next day. They are rebuilding now. No complaining. The ants just did what needs to be done. First, salvage. Second, regroup. Third, rebuild.

Those tiny little black ants in my garden, with tiny little brains had survived their equivalent of a Singapore sized asteroid strike.

If ants can do it, so can we. 

Yes, we too will survive this Covid-19 Pandemic and come out of it better. In the long term. Immediate hardship is inevitable. Whatever said about humankind’s stupidity and greed, I believe we have an in-built self correcting system in us, as species. 

At the moment our front-line workers are fighting tirelessly to contain the virus and heal those infected. They are salvaging the situation and securing our future.

We are regrouping was we speak and are pushing back hard. Countries are reaching across borders to help one another. Neighbours are looking out for each other. I see young volunteers stepping forward to feed the helpless. Opportunists are being frowned upon and bigots are told to shut up. Everyone is standing up to be counted and that is by staying at home.

I see light. And rebuild we shall. Lessons need to be learnt. Our arrogance as a species must surely be tempered with humility. 

Mother Nature is holding us accountable. She always does; only we keep forgetting. Today it is this virus, tomorrow it can be another virus, or climate change or something else. Different time, different drama but same lesson - respect and love one another and all of God’s creation. 

Time and love will heal everything, even this. Let time take care of itself. Let love heal mother nature, heal relationships and most importantly heal oneself.

I leave you with the wise words of the Great Master Yoda “Do this, we must, eermmh.”

Muru

P.S. I came across an interesting article whilst googling about ants. A research was done by University of Lausanne, Switzerland on colonies of ‘Lasius niger’ ants. The study showed that when foraging ants were exposed to a fungal pathogen, they reduce their contact with workers inside the nest and thus reduce the spread of infections and protect healthy workers and the queen from disease. 

We are in this together

22nd March 2020

We are in this together.

We didn’t ask for it but here it is and we have to deal with it.

I see nurses falling from exhaustion and doctors crying in frustration.

I see calls by constables and my King falling on deaf ears.

I see small traders close shop and worry about the next month’s bill.

I see shows cancelled and artists suffer in silence.

I see bigots attempting to interpret the situation to suit their dogma.

But I also see a silver lining.

I see workers sweep the road and bikers deliver food, not just to make a living but to keep the system going.

I see security forces keeping calm and keeping peace.

I see families having meals together.

I see fathers playing with their kids and mothers cooking lunch. 

This too shall pass one day. 

And we will be left with only memories. Some won’t be so lucky, through no fault of their own. 

How we deal with this today will be recorded in our memories and in history. Let’s do this right and do our part.

We are in this together. We can only win this together.

#stayhome #staysafe #staypositive #wecandothismalaysia

Silver Lining - Movement Control Order

Silver Lining

Its the third day of Movement Control Order

This is what I noticed so far:

1. Listening from my room, the noise of morning traffic is reduced.

2. I can hear more of the birds chirping. But that could just be me, not hurrying to work every morning. I wake up as I wish and go to bed when I wish.

3. We have lunch and dinner together as a family, now that no one is out for one reason or another. 

4. This is the best ‘holiday’ I can ask for. I don’t have to rush from one tourist spot to another to cover everything. I don’t  have to worry about the price of meals at tourist eateries  and I don’t have to worry about the odd client calling on some outstanding matter.

5. I get to watch all the television I can take, practise my sitar and read till I doze off, all without a tinge of guilt.

6. The supermarkets and grocers are open. I can buy almost any food that I want. Bought milk, ice-cream and chips for my kids. They ran out of kuaci. That’s the main reason I walked up to the grocer in the first place. That’s OK, I can’t have it all, all the ti

7. Like the waters in the canals of Venice that are clearing up as the sediment settle, so is my mind. Things look clearer. Priorities are sorting themselves out and are settling into their rightful order.

8. I feel for my sister. Her daughter, my niece is working around the clock at the Segamat Hospital. She is worried sick about her daughter’s well being. Her son who just graduated from Medical school might also be called up anytime soon due to shortage of doctors. The previous generation sent their sons to battle-front and waited anxiously at home to keep everyone safe. This generation is sending out their sons and daughters to  the battle-front in the form of doctors, nurses, policemen, lorry drivers, cleaners, supermarket cashiers and all the other essential service workers to keep us safe. The least we can do is not to put them at risk by our own sense of self-entitlement and foolishness. We owe it to them to bring them home safe. We are in this together. 

A Dollar and a Dream

A Dollar and a Dream

Chandran woke up as usual that morning. The thing was, it wasn’t just another day for him. It was his birthday.

Chandran does not a make a big deal out of his birthday. The night before, at around midnight his wife mumbled “Happy Birthday” to him.  Both of them  half asleep half awake. He mumbled back “Thanks” but he was distracted after that. He lied in bed wondering what has he achieved in the last 51 years. Sure, he had all the trappings of a successful man but somehow that wasn’t enough for him. He always felt there was something more to life. A sense of unfulfilled promise lingered on until he dozed off.

Chandran felt his way around the bedside table to get his glasses as he got up. He saw a piece of A4 paper with something written on it and a US one dollar bill on top of it. 

“So, Appa, it’s your birthday today. So, Happy Birthday! I honestly don’t know what to get you. So, I thought of giving you something meaningful; meaningful to me at least. My favourite rapper, J. Cole, wrote a song called “Dollar and a Dream III.” That has been my motto for years now. I started 2018 with nothing more than a Dollar and a dream. Literally, I had ‘0’ in my bank account and RM6 in my wallet. I went to Jusco and changed RM4 to a dollar and used the balance for parking. This was on the 31.12.2017. I told myself that I will never be in that situation ever again and never looked back. Literally started 2018 with a Dollar and a dream.

Since you are in the next chapter of your life and you’re trying to figure out what that chapter may be, I figured I’d give you a Dollar as well. I have a dollar and a dream. Now, you have one too. It may be small but my “Dollar and a dream” has always kept me going for a long time and I hope this dollar of yours will help you as well.

With that being said, I would like to thank you for all your guidance and sacrifices you’ve made for me and our family. Nobody can ever dream of a better father as you. Thank you for everything appa. I hope this Dollar will help you as much as mine did for me. I have my Dollar and a dream. You have a Dollar now. Time for you to fulfil your dreams. I love you Appa, more than you’ll ever know.
Signed"

“Your son gave me this” said Chandran to his wife after he read it, showing her the letter and the dollar bill. 

“Well, it’s good to know that your son can write a few paragraphs.” He went on.

Chandran didn’t expect  this from his son.

“You know, your son has either given me the best gift ever or he just settled my birthday gift for under five ringgit” said Chandran.

Chandran felt light as he showered and got ready for work. He was sure that it had something to do with the gift but just couldn’t put his finger on it.

The part where his son said that he loved him made him feel good. Still, that wasn’t it. He always knew his son loved him despite the difficult times they went through. Chandran, being a father as fathers do, always leaned heavy on his son when it came to his son's laid back approach to life. He worry that his son might find life tough after he is gone.

“My son is now encouraging me to chase my dreams” thought Chandran as he  drove to work. 

“Not bad, he is giving me the talk I should be giving him at this age.” Thought Chandran of son his college going son.

Yes, he has a dollar and a dream, a gift from his son. He was proud, no doubt, that his son had the presence of mind to think of such a gift. Still, the peace he felt went deeper.

Fathers carry an unspoken burden. To prepare his child for this world - for the boy to be a man, the girl to be a woman. The thing is, one is never sure. Most fathers agonise over this one question till their very last breath.

Chandran felt peace. The unspoken in the letter told him. His son is now a man.

Muru

https://www.wattpad.com/839478677-the-world-is-my-classroom-the-universe-is-my

https://medium.com/@murugesansinnandavar/a-dollar-and-a-dream-ecd44b4d0c1b

Kaizen - It All Adds Up

Extracted from ’The World is My Classroom, The Universe is My Teacher 

Kaizen - It All Adds Up

I accompanied a group of musicians and dancers to New Zealand a few years back. Beautiful country. We were there for around ten days. The artistes had a few shows and we had a lot of free time in between. 

There was a professional tabla player in the group. He has accompanied some of the best musicians in the world, has performed in the most prestigious of venues and has won numerous international awards. He is a much sought after tabla teacher as well. 

Every day, without fail, whether we were travelling or just hanging around the house, he practised on his tabla. He will do it first thing in the morning after breakfast; before we got started on the day. Every single day.

I asked him, “Prakash, how come? It’s not as if you need the practice.” 

He could probably play the instrument whilst doing a head stand and juggle three balls with his feet, blindfolded, without missing a beat. He can make his tabla sing “Happy Birthday To You”, I kid you not.

“Muru, small things matter. I have made it a point to practise every single day, no matter what. It all adds up” he said.

I once attended a talk at a local university about the environment and what we can do to save our planet. The speaker was an activist from Germany. He has been in Malaysia for some time and has picked up a few words in Malay. According to him, the phrase he found most meaningful in that language was the simple “sikit-sikit lama lama jadi bukit.”  Literally translated it means  “little by little makes a hill”. He was using that phrase as his motto in his crusade to save our planet. Sometimes, we don’t value what is staring us in the face until someone else points it out to us. Have to hear that from a German!

The Industrialised Japan is built on the hard work of its’ people; and a concept known as ‘Kaizen’.

‘Kaizen’ refers to continuous improvement. Small positive changes  accumulated over a period of time. They focus on improving both the product and the process, one small step at a time. They just keep adding on minor improvements to the one before; brick upon brick, layer upon layer. Toyota transformed itself from a tin can car company to Lexus on the strength of this concept.

We tend to dismiss small changes. Too insignificant to make a difference, we say. We wait for those “Aha!” moments for inspiration and revelation. We want to make that dramatic decision and alter the course of our life. We wait for the moment of truth, not realising that the truth is in the moment.

This concept of incremental improvement is counter intuitive to what most motivational gurus preach. They talk about paradigm shifts and try to convince us that we have been looking at life, or whatever that they want us to look at, all wrong. It works if you need a knock on your head, but not otherwise. Minor improvement just isn’t sexy enough to sell, too insignificant to be noticed.

It is precisely because they are too insignificant to be noticed that they are effective. 

The mind fights change. The bigger the change, the bigger the struggle. Anyone who has been on a crash course diet knows this. How the lost weight is quickly regained, with a vengeance. It’s a never ending battle.

Small changes are indiscernible and because of that, there is less resistance   by the mind; less push back. Small changes are do-able and hardly takes effort. Strength in simplicity.

Want to cut down on caffeine addiction? Don’t cut down cup by cup. The mind will revolt. Cut it down sip by sip. Yes, just one sip less, a day. Take one less sip today. The body won’t feel it. The mind doesn’t mind. Another less sip tomorrow. And the day after.  Bye bye caffeine. 

Want to start a reading habit? Start with one page. No, one paragraph. Just one paragraph a day. Before you know it, you would have finished “War and Peace”.

Want to start saving? Start emptying coins from your wallet into a jar at the end of each day. Start with spare change, the money you won’t miss. Just keep adding it up.

Little things do add up. Just ask the German activist, Prakash Kandasamy or Warren Buffet. They will say “Sikit-sikit lama lama jadi bukit!”

Muru

https://www.wattpad.com/837611619-the-world-is-my-classroom-the-universe-is-my

https://medium.com/@murugesansinnandavar/kaizen-at-all-adds-up-59ece2411490

'On The Basis of Sex'

Extracted from ’The World is My Classroom, The Universe is My Teacher 

I watched ‘On the Basis of Sex’ over the weekend. 

Well, almost half of it. I caught it halfway when I was switching between channels to see if there was something nice to watch.

That’s when it caught my attention. It’s the story of the young Ruth Bader Ginsburg. 

I have heard that name before. I heard it being mentioned on CNN several times. She is that lady US Supreme Court Judge, right?

Technology is wonderful. I quickly googled her up on my smart phone and was up to speed about her. Whilst the movie was still playing. Yup, she is the one. The US Supreme Court judge. The one that fought discrimination against women.

Ruth Ginsburg challenged laws that on the surface appeared beneficial to women, but in fact reinforced the notion that women needed to be dependent on men. That women were somehow inferior.

The story was set when she was  a young law professor. She is in the midst of preparing a brief to appeal a decision against her client.  The Commissioner of Inland Revenue was on the other side.

Good movie. Captivating final speech in her submission before the Appellate Judges. Heavy stuff, the kind that will make you jump up and start clapping if you were in the court-room.

At the heart of the argument was whether it was unconstitutional to enact laws that treated women differently from men. 

In the pivotal courtroom scene, all the arguments about break in the fabric of society, the end of civilisation as we know it, not being the American way, will cause earth being conquered by the Andromedians and other such grave concerns were thrown at her. By the judges. 

“These laws merely recognised what is self evident,” they said. “Won’t there be anarchy if we ignore nature?” they questioned her. 

  

She daringly stood her grounds and turned the whole argument on its head. We lawyers love that stuff. To be able to sweep our opponents  (we are not allowed to call them that, by the way) and judges off their feet in one smooth motion and do the powerslam on them.

That case set the precedent for other cases. Legislation after legislation that treated women differently were subsequently challenged and nullified. Based on that one case.

The irony of it all is this. 

That case, the one that started it all, that beacon for gender equality, wasn’t about discrimination against  women. It was discrimination against men. 

In that case, a man named Moritz hired a nurse to care for his aging mother so he could continue to work. He was denied tax deduction for the nursing care because at the time the Internal Revenue Code specifically limited the deduction to "a woman, a widower or divorcée, …” The Commissioner ruled that as man who had never married, Moritz did not qualify for the deduction. 

So he challenged. On a matter of principle.

Interesting, the entire legal battle on discrimination against women was started by a case that fought discrimination against men. Well played Ruth.

We men, have been having it easy all this while that we keep forgetting this simple truth. What is good for the goose is good for the gander. 

I am lucky. I have my wife to remind me of that. All the time.

Muru

Wattapad
Medium

Hoarding

(Extracted from 'The World Is My Classroom, The Universe is My Teacher")

I have a small confession to make. I am a hoarder.

Yes, I hoard things. Not the ‘lets collect the plastic water bottles’ type - the environmentalist; or the ‘lets save the gift wrapper to be re-used’ type - the frugal; nor the ‘lets keep the movie ticket in a book’  type - the sentimentalist.

I am the worst type - the contingency planner. The ‘what if’ type. “What if I need it later?”, “What if I need it for parts?” , “What if someone needs it one day?”, “What if my 18 other survival knives don’t work?”

Bad as it sounds, I am not the top dog. That distinction goes to an old pal of mine. He is the undisputed Heavy Weight Hoarding Champion of the World. A plane crash site is more liveable than his apartment.

That was last month, before we ushered in the new year. He decided to throw away some of his stuff and tidy his place up. At least someone is keeping to his Vision 2020.

He had a bit of an early start. He started at around Christmas Holidays. Worked at it through the New Year, the Chinese New Year Holidays and every weekend. He is almost there, he tells me.  It’s February now. Give him time. His is a work in progress. 

He brought a pair binoculars for last weekend’s hike. The ones that were ubiquitous about quarter of a century ago; when the Soviet Union was falling apart and they were selling all those fake ‘Soviet Army Surplus’ stuff at night markets. 

I asked him what was that about and he replied “Oh, I just found it when I was cleaning up and brought it to show it to you.”

“Ahh, I have pair just like that. Don’t know where it is. Must be in the house somewhere” I said.

“You know Muru, I came across some of the mails that Melanie sent me when we were in college” he said. Those were real mails, written in ink on paper, mind you.

Melanie is my friend’s ex-wife and that’s not her real name by the way.

“I read them and tears just rolled down my cheeks. So much love… Don’t know what happened to us” he said in a soft voice.

Not knowing what to say I looked down and kept quiet, for a while.

“You know, we collect stuff, always thinking there is a use for it sometime but you can never find it when you need it.” I said, going off on a tangent.

“Oh, I do find my stuff when I need it,” he said, hitting the breaks at my attempt.

“You know Muru, the thing is, we collect all that stuff, so much so that the things that really matter to us are hidden in that heap, virtually lost to us” he said.

He is right.

Nisargadatta Maharaj, a spiritual guru was once asked by a student, “Maharaj, you are so full of love and peace all the time. Why can’t I have that?”

The Guru replied “The love and peace that’s in me is in you too. It is in every living thing.”

“Why then, you feel it all time but I can’t?” asked the student.

“It is because I only have love and peace” said the Guru. 

We carry so many things in our minds. We carry a little bit of love, a little bit of envy, a little bit of kindness, a little bit of hatred, a little bit this and a little bit of that. 

We carry a little bit of everything so much so that the good we carry is lost in the pile. We allow our mind to become the passive repository of everything imagined, literally.

Time to throw some of my stuff and tidy up my place. And the mind too.

Thanks pal.

Muru

Medium

Wattapad

Keep To Your Rhythm

I was hiking this weekend. I was walking up a hill and this guy was walking down the same trail. He stopped and stood aside the narrow trail to allow me to pass. I thanked him and hurried up the trail so as not to hold him up for too long. As I passed he said “It’s ok, just keep to your rhythm”. 

Sound advice. I knew immediately he must be a seasoned hiker.

In hiking it is never about the speed. It’s about the pace. Your own pace. It’s about finding your rhythm and keeping it.

Often I have seen new ‘hikers' speed up in earnest to keep up with friends. Or  to impress. Only to be out of breath, hands on knees and almost blue in the face after some distance. 

The natural tendency is to compare ourselves with our friends and try to keep up with the pack. It never works. It seldom ends well for you. Your friend’s pace is your friend’s pace. Not yours. 

A true hiker understands his own body and appreciates the terrain. He will find a comfortable pace in a given terrain. A good pace is when you are not out of breath as you walk. Your steps are in sync with your breathing. You are in the ‘flow.’

Each one of us are differently abled; with different speed and different stamina. The terrain differs too. Just like in life. 

We compare ourselves with our friends and are in a perpetual game of catch up. There is always someone who is better; has a better job, a better car or a bigger house. We want that too, only better. And we end up stressed, frustrated and out of breath.

Our trails in life differ. Each one of us, either knowingly or unknowingly has chosen our own path. Some are short, some long, some easy and some more challenging than others. There may be places where our trails overlap; and we become friends and families, to love and cherish. We enjoy that part of the journey together, in laughter or in sadness. And part ways when the time comes. Each one of us living, ever lived or will ever live, has a trail; each different from the other.

Our gifts, our temperament and the baggage that we carry along as we travel in life also differ. Each unique in its own way. No two journeys are ever alike. In fact the very purpose of our journey are different. 

Why then is the urge to ‘catch up’? Enjoy the trail, enjoy the life. After all, what is the purpose of it all, if there is no joy in it? There is no need to rush in reaching your ‘destination’ or your ‘goal’, or whatever you may call it, unless that is your thing. 

You will get there, without being out of breath. In life, as in hiking, it is never about the speed. Just keep to your rhythm.

Muru

Wattapad

Medium