Multi-Tasking, Multi-Feeling

Daniel Tiger has taught my little one that it is perfectly alright to feel more than one emotion at a time. No offence to the toon tiger, but I'm beginning to resent the human ability to multi-feel. 

How simple life would be if one could feel just a single emotion at a time. What if happy weren't entangled with fear or, joy with guilt or, hope with regret? Oh how blank the palette of my mind would be! But that's how I know I'd love it the most- minimalistic.  

Once upon a time, we didn't own a sofa. We owned a rather cosy mattress that was the only seating in our otherwise spacious living room. Over the years, we've added many furniture pieces to our list of 'essentials' in the house. 

But I still miss the bare room with that one mattress, that I had so enthusiastically covered with a sheet and kitschy cushions.

Why do I keep going back to that vignette every now and then? Do I crave the simplicity of that space or the youthful vibrancy of that time? 

I've been wanting to get organized for a long time now. To edit 'stuff' out of my home and life. If I haven't used it in a year, I am cold-hearted enough to mercilessly cut it out of my life. And with each item that exits the house, I feel a little free. 

But why do I feel a sense of relief every time I toss something out? I am no ascetic or hermit. Could it perhaps be reflective of the journey to declutter the mind? I don't know. 

But the pandemic has forced me to really want to go back to the basics. Not just because I've had to take up the role of a maid and the lesser I have to manage, the better it is for me. But because the period has forced me to take stock of my life, realize, and prioritize. 

The early days of this period had me turn into a control freak. Seemed to me that the only way to find a semblance of meaning in the chaos was by having everything around me in perfect order. But Stressville isn't too far off from Control Station. And eight months down the line, I'm able to accept that sometimes, it is okay that a pile of laundry is staring at you. That down-time is a legit need of the hour no matter who or how old you are. And that dal-bhaath is a perfectly acceptable alternative to paneer or pasta.  

I've been many roles rolled into one for an extended time now. And I don't see it changing anytime soon. Anyone having doubts about split personality disorder need only to look at the next homemaker. We're too many at one go these days. And it's maniacal to keep track. 

And so by the end of the pandemic, I wish I could walk away learning the fine skill of editing tasks down to the basics, stripping feelings of their fluff and simplifying everyday life to maximize living.