It is whatever I make it to be.
It’s Monday morning. I am short on time. I am waiting to catch a flight. I am still not back in Dubai. I am grateful to be writing this little memo that a few of you ardently read and always message me about (THANK YOU <3).
I, I, I…
Having finished The Fountainhead this week, I can’t help but think how a novel that was started in 1938 (that’s 88 years ago), still filled me with immense introspection, annoyance and, eventually, contentment, especially for Mr Roark.
I think I’d read it once before in high school, but 16-year-old Manuja couldn’t even grasp the enormous burden it is to differentiate between individualism and altruism in our modern age. I won’t start a debate or dissection of the story here, but just want to share the reminder Ayn Rand controversially delivered to my conscience.
Don’t live a second-handed life.
There are plenty of threads in the book around individuality and collectivism, but distilling it all down, whether it was living through the Great Depression of the 1930s or the Greater Depression of the 2020s, we live too often (and too easily) for others.
What will they say?
Will they like me?
How can I be included in their inner circle?
When will I be appreciated/celebrated/respected by them?
On the other hand, lending this centre of inner gravity to them, we have somehow mistagged doing everything for others as ‘altruistic’. Now, I am not saying don’t do good - help, donate, contribute, volunteer. But do it for your fulfilment, not for making you look like a decent human to them.
Losing our sense of individualism, our ‘I’, is perhaps the most selfish thing we can do. Because we have fully handed over our sense of existence, our raison d'etre, to others. And acting in one’s own self-interest, adhering to independent judgment, and valuing one's own work above validation from others, is the actual ultimate virtue.
Easier said than done, even for a rebel like me. But maybe, we all can start with a simple question, instead:
What can I say about myself?
How can I learn to appreciate / celebrate / respect myself?
When will I love me?
M.
M’s Currents
A small thing I loved this week: no structure or theme, just sharing some favourites.
Sensorial: Indian weddings hit every sense and emotion, and I have had the distinct pleasure (and overwhelming exhaustion) of attending two in the last week. Heart is full. Brain needs to hibernate.
xx
Manuja
Not for everyone. Never was.
