Year Nine

In numerology, each year carries the vibration of a specific number, ranging from one to nine. This means that one cycle consist of nine years, and towards the end of a cycle, we enter a new period. For the year of 2016, when you add up the numbers (2+1+6), you get the vibration of nine. Therefore, whatever happened this year, consisted of finalizing the old chapter, and getting a new chapter ready for the year of 2017. If you felt apprehensive and/or noticed that things were shifting drastically, then you know why.

For many individuals, the shift happened at the very beginning of the year, and for others, the shift will be happening (very drastically) during November and December. Some people may have had their chapter's ending in the beginning of the year, and spent the rest of the year preparing for a new beginning. When I state shift, I mean major life event occurrences such as marriage, new business opportunities/growth, ending of old relationships/divorce, conclusion of a large project, moving to a new country or city, beginning a long-term relationship/marriage, finding a new employment place, moving to a new house/apartment, and etc...

The year nine will make you tie up loose ends and close the door to the past completely. It has been heavy transformational year for many which may have caused us to question our old belief systems and re-visit the past. All the memories that you've been shoving under the table come forth for healing, and all the achievements (small or large) that you've had want your recognition. There may have been times where you were dealing with the past, present, and future all at once (think in one day or week). You might have learnt some important, painful lessons as well, because the vibration of nine is making sure that you won't repeat your mistakes in the next cycle. You may have realized or received the courage to achieve some big dreams in the next cycle. 

Spiritually speaking, nine is also an awakening of consciousness and realization of your true purpose. All the light workers and humanitarians are being called to take action in the new cycle, and any remnants of karma and ego are being cleared off completely. After these two months, we will be entering the vibration of one with all the wisdom that we acquired along with a fresh perspective on life. Move through November and December gracefully and know that all the pieces are being put together for you. In other words, think of it as the season finale of your show. Don't be disheartened, because the upcoming season is going to be much more epic than the last one. 

5 Life Lessons I Learned

1) Acceptance

It's important to be aware that we cannot control situations and people to be the way we want it to be. This is why we must learn to accept situations and people for what and who they are. At the end, we can only control our actions and responses. 

2) As cheesy as this may sound, do everything with love

If you love what you do, then every aspect of your life will depict this. By working from a sense of compassion and love, people will be drawn to your positive energy and your world will be filled with small and large forms of inspiration. 

3) Your internal world is reflected in your outer world

What do you see? Chaos? Fear? Joy? Bliss? 

If you don't like what you see, then it's time to polish your internal mirror. It's time to let go of thoughts that are wearing you down or making you feel fearful. Dig deeper within you to understand how you can heal. Be watchful of your self-talk, because it manifests experiences in your outer world (your environment). 

4) Choose to be happy 

Yes, happiness is a choice. Everyday, you have the option to follow this route. When you consciously make this choice, it will become much easier to manifest what you seek and to have experiences that you truly want to have. You need to feel good to attract better things in your life. Feeling good does not necessarily come from your external world, accomplishments or material purchases. It comes from being authentic, doing what you love, pursuing your life purpose, and aspiring to improve your well-being. 

5) Speak only the truth

When you're honest with yourself and towards others, your heart becomes clear of worry, stress and fear. Always fight for the truth, this will keep your spirit free. 

 

Risk Takers and Our Society

How many people have told you that you need to take risks to make changes in your life? 

How many people have told you that the most successful people took risks to become great leaders? 

How many people have put these risk-takers on pedestals, hoping that they could (one day) break-free from the reigns of habit? 

However, what happens when you want to take a risk?

The same people will shiver and give you reasons why it's not OK to pursue that risk. The same people will slowly back away from you. The same people will pretend that they do not know you. 

When I speak of risk, I'm not talking about gambling your money or endorsing an addictive lifestyle. I'm talking about making positive changes to your life, such as starting your business, changing your career path, moving to a new country/city, putting your mind/heart/soul out there, and/or restarting your life all over. These major changes are all risks. 

Our society is fear-based, and it's ironic, because it's envious of those who take risks. Risk takers seek freedom from the constraints that our society has built to keep us safe from harm. Our society loves creating business cases and presenting them in classes as inspirational information. However, the minute you are out of school, society is going to try to force you back into safety. 

Hey baby, be safe and get a safe job where you can work safely as long as the work gets done on time. Ok? Love you forever. Stay safe my baby. -Society

Eventually, you may realize that you want much more from life. Much more than what is being offered to you. However, the minute you decide to break the news, you might hear a speech that sounds like this:

Excuse me? Baby, we are not supporting you in this decision. You are on your own. How exactly do you think you will take this risk? Do you have a plan at stake? We are here, trying to make safe changes, and you are trying to disrupt our safe environment! We can guarantee you that you are going to fail, and when you do, then don't come back crying to us. We don't love you that much anymore. -Society

What's going to happen when you take a risk?

At first, you might regret it very much. You might hate yourself for getting out of your comfort zone. Remember that this is a matter of perspective. You will have to remind yourself that you have a purpose, and that to reach the peak, the climb will be slow and painful but consistent. You need to take risks (may it be small or large) to attain your dreams. 

Who will support you?

Maybe your parents, a few friends or no one. Whatever it is, it's going to make you a very resilient person from the very beginning. Eventually, your close friends will catch up to you and support you in every way they can. The ones who doubted you may come back and want to be part of the movement as well. One aspect that you will remember is who was there from the very beginning. 

I want to take a large risk, but I don't think that I have the personality for it. 

Start by taking small risks, such as meeting different types of people, trying new cuisines, attaining smaller yet atypical goals, going to unusual events, reaching out to people you usually don't, taking a class that you never thought you would and etc.... The options are endless, but start small. This will help you gain confidence and inner-strength. Basically, take baby steps to get out of your comfort zone. Sometimes it takes people years and years to get where they want to be. However, the key is persistence and to never give up in what you believe in. 

F1 Student Visa

Around the end of April 2008, my classmates and I were getting ready to apply for our F1 student visas. For many international students, this is a pivotal moment, because the outcome of our visa interviews would be key to determining our future. Several of us were biting our finger nails, scavenging to get our documents together and hoping for the best. In my case, I didn't even want to go to the interview. 

"I'm not going to this. What's the point? I don't want to go to America," I said to my mother. 

"Keep your options open and just go. You don't have to go, but it's good to have your visa ready. You never know what could happen," she replied.

Finally, the day had arrived for me to head to my interview at 8:30 AM. I crawled out of bed at 6:20 AM on a Saturday and walked miserably to the bathroom. 

"I can't believe I'm doin' this on a Saturday when I could be sleeping in and chillin' and doing nothin' and livin' in peace and why are we doin' this in the twenty-first century and why is it such a process and why do I have to wake up so early on a Saturday? I just want to go back to bed," rambled seventeen-year-old Shikha.  

Outside the bathroom, I could hear my father say, "Hurry up Sona, I have to drop you to the embassy. Your mom is busy. I have to give you these documents, and you need to eat breakfast before you go. Hello, tu toilet ke upar so gayi (Translation: Did you fall asleep on the toilet)?"

"That's not funny," I responded as I walked back to my bedroom. 

"Your mom said to make sure that you don't fall asleep in the bathroom or that you don't go back to bed. She said that you have the tendency to do such things." 

In reality, I felt pretty anxious, because I didn't know what to expect or even how I would respond to any of the questions they would ask me. At that point, everything felt too real yet uncertain. Soon, I was going to venture out of my home into another country. The future seemed frightening and uncomfortable. 

As I ate my breakfast, wondering what would happen in the next few hours, my father dropped a stack of folders on our dining table. 

"Make sure you take all of these folders with you. These are all of our business documents and bank statements. You never know what could happen."

"How old are some of these documents?" I asked as I stared at the dust caught in between the folders. 

"Maybe as old as you?" 

I sighed, "Papa, do I need to take all of them?" 

"I told you, you never know what could happen. Where is your backpack?" 

I watched my father precisely put the set of dusty folders in my backpack as I continued munching on my toast. I tried to tame my anxiety in my mind:

It's OK.It's OK.It's OK.It's OK.It's OK.It's OK.It's OK.It's OK.It's OK.It's OK. OK. OK. OK. OK. OK. OK. OK.OK. OK. OK. OK.OK. OK. OK. OK. You're OK. You're OK. You're OK. You're OK. You're OK. You can do this. You're OK. You're OK. You're OK. You can do this. 

"Shikha, take my business cards."

"Papa, why do I need to take your business cards?" 

"You never know what could happen. You could network while you're sitting."

My father dropped five of his business cards in my backpack without waiting for my acknowledgement. 

"Ok, Shikha, jaldi kar (hurry up)." 

All of a sudden, my mother appeared out of nowhere, and announced, "Shikha, jaldi kar! Why are you still eating your toast? We have to go!" 

Ten minutes later, the three of us were sitting in the car without uttering a word to each other. 

I decided to break the silence. 

"How long is this interview going to take?" I asked my parents.

"However long they want to take," replied my father. 

"By the way, did you guys decide to turn this into a group activity at the last minute?" 

"Very funny Shikha," responded my mother. 

"I told your Mom that I can drop you, but she wanted to come." 

"I wasn't going to let you go there by yourself," she said. 

My mother made there sound like a battlefield. 

As we reached the embassy, my parents began to wish me luck.

"Ok, Shikha, good luck beta (child). Text me if anything happens," said my father. 

"What do you want to eat for lunch? You'll be back for lunch, no? Ok, who knows, but when you are done send me a text message or call me. Ok, call me if anything happens. Anything happens, you make sure to call me. Understood? And, what do you want to eat?" said my mother. 

I murmured, "I'll eat anything," and I began to walk towards the embassy's security line (Basically, I was entering the battlefield).

In the background, I could hear my mother say, "Shikha, make sure you call me! Don't just send me a text message. Sometimes, I can't hear it. Shikha, you didn't want to tell me what you want to eat."

"Mom, I said anything."  

To be continued.   

To My Dada ji (Grandfather)

This post is dedicated to my Dada ji who passed away on January 26, 2016. May your soul rest in peace.

My Dada ji was a strong, authentic man, who worked very hard his entire life to support his family on a small salary of a school teacher. His goal was to have all of his children educated so that they could always be successful and respected in their lives. When the grandchildren came into the picture, he wanted to make sure that they were even more educated than his children. 

I was the eldest grandchild who lived 7,488 kilometers away from him, in a city that he had never set foot in. With our language and geographical barriers, communication was scarce. Somehow, our bond was formed when he found out that I liked one thing: books.

"They don't have books over there and Shikha likes books," he said.  Out of concern, my Dada ji made it his mission to send back books during my father's short visits. 

I received my first set of books in second grade when I was still getting used to the English language. He knew that I was learning English, and all of them were aimed to help me improve my vocabulary. My Dada ji sent me my first translation of Shakespeare's work, which became very dear to me. At the time, I didn't even know who Shakespeare was. I was just thrilled to escape into other worlds which lay hidden amongst many words. 

By fourth grade, my Dada ji began to send more books to prepare me for middle and high school. 

Science books were sent. 

Literature books were sent. 

Comic books were sent. 

Philosophy books were sent. 

Math books were sent, but never touched. Math was too intimidating for little Shikha. 

All of the books were lovingly displayed on a tall bookcase. 

In seventh grade, Dada ji asked my father,"What does Shikha want to read now? Tell her to give me her book list." Out of excitement, book lists were sent and on the return of my father from his business trips, books were received. This exchange went on for many years. 

Once, my Dada ji couldn't find a book that I had listed. He went to all of the book stores in New Delhi to look for it, and became frustrated that he could not get his granddaughter a book that she had asked for. "She never asks for anything, and I could not even get this for her," he sulked. My father had to insist that I could live without it, and he shouldn't get too upset about it. 

I remember finally being able to go to New Delhi in tenth grade, and the first thing he asked for was my book list.

"If you give it to me now, then all of the books will be ready for you by the time you leave," he said. 

"Dada ji, nahin. I will come with you to get them." 

Dada ji staunchly refused to be accompanied by anyone to his favorite book stores. With a rikshaw and by foot, he would always bring back a heavy bag that was equivalent to the love and strength of his heart. 

Dada ji is one of the reasons why I can read and speak in English. Without him, I would not have been where I am today. He kept me intellectually stimulated when I felt deprived and introduced me to so many new subjects. Thank you for everything, Dada ji. I will always remember you, and you will always be in my heart.  Rest in peace.