Arpita Sharma

I have started taking a course called Life Changing Practices by Marlysa Thomas recently. In our first meeting, she talked about the ways in which we center whiteness in our lives. For me, that used to be how I said my own name for many decades. I came to this country when I was six and grew up surrounded by other children of many cultures and many teachers of different ethnicities. But one thing remained true – everyone called me “Arpeeta” and I never had the heart to tell them how I wanted it pronounced.

I had no one I could have those conversations with when I was growing up. And it always seemed like such a small issue compared to other big life problems like income, stability, and trying to get by. It was only when I got to college and I had a roommate that also was born in India that called me out on it that I realized what I was doing. I wasn’t even giving people a chance to pronounce my name correctly because I had become so accustomed to being “Arpeeta”.

It’s funny to look back on now – but still something I still struggle with living in a culture where being white is the norm. It almost makes you feel like a caricature of yourself. You feel the need to always appease and accommodate instead of standing in your own power and calling out. It is particularly hard when you are low-income, an immigrant, or disabled. You feel extremely vulnerable in a community that is well intentioned, but hurts you in ways that are hard to process.

I will leave you with some of the tools Marlysa shared with me and I reflected on. The three questions she asked were:

1. How is whiteness being centered?
2. What are practical ways I can decenter whiteness?
3. Why do I feel like this/think this and where I learned it?

Maybe these will give you some fruit for thought. If you are interested in taking this course, check out her website and new youtube channel.

Let us continue to learn and grow together this year.

My older brother died of a terminal illness when I was 24 and he was 26. It’s been 6 years and a few months now. For the majority of his life, he was paralyzed and lived in our living room surrounded by medical equipment and pills to keep him alive. When he finally passed away, he was living off a breathing machine and his heart had been working at 10 percent for three years. My whole life had centered around my brother’s existence until then and I had never grappled with what death would mean. Needless to say, I had a long and hard grieving process and it took me a couple of years before I really accepted the permanence of death. In the process, I have gained some important lessons that have really shifted my perspective on life and made me a lot healthier and happier since then. These are the lessons:

Death teaches you compassion.

When I was growing up, I had a lot of expectations of how others should behave and was often critical or judgemental of their behavior, expecting their actions to conform to what I viewed as the “right way” of doing things. This came from my deep insecurities about my own self-worth and lack of self-compassion during my upbringing. And, it came to bite me big time while I was grieving. Every argument I had after the loss of my brother started to feel like I was being stabbed in the chest with knives and daggers. It made me regret every mean or hurtful thing I had ever said to my brother or my family during our arguments. It was only when I sat down to meditate with Spring Washam, a meditation teacher in the East Bay Meditation Center, that I was able to finally acknowledge that I needed to be more compassionate towards myself and others in life. Since then, I try very hard never to be purposely hurtful or mean to anyone – while clarifying my boundaries. I’ve found that this shift in the way that I approach my life has filled it with much deeper love and healthier and more authentic relationships.

Death shows you your inner voice.

Before my brother’s passing, I wasn’t very aware of what I desired in life. I was just floating by and prioritizing being successful to the outside world. Like most people, I wanted to achieve a high academic status, a job, and a secure income. I had chosen my career field in the public policy world because I thought that my role in life was to always advocate or serve others. While I still believe this today and my job is aligned with this – I also learned to listen to my inner voice after his death. I had always pushed through difficult moments in my life until then because there was no other option, I had accepted that suffering and misery were just a part of life. When he passed away, I had a moment of deep reflection where I realized that while I could never control what happened to me in life, I will always have control over how I respond to it. As a result, I now focus on training my mind to be resilient in the face of challenges. I still struggle with this in some aspects of my life – for example, I really wanted to pursue getting my black belt in taekwondo. It was a goal that I had set for myself to reach by 32. Since the pandemic began, I stopped pursuing this dream because it felt overwhelming to try and teach myself the skill of self-defense. But, as this new year has started, I’ve decided that I will push through and find tangible ways to practice even if I don’t have my crew. I just have to focus on building consistency and developing new skills over time. Nothing has to be perfect.

Death teaches you that you are not alone.

Before the passing of my brother, I felt lonely and a bit neurotic inside – thinking that people were always judging me for small things – when in reality, no one actually cared all that much – they were much more focused on themselves. I realized this when I built new connections with people who shared stories of losing a loved one with me. They would share the profound impact the loss of this person had had on their life – and how much they have learned and grown from it. I remember speaking to my wonderful guy friend who shared how he woke up crying on his wedding day thinking about the absence of his father. How his father would never be there to witness this beautiful moment in his life or be part of the journey. His willingness to share deep personal stories about himself helped me realize that I was not alone in my suffering. We all suffer in small and big ways – ways we keep hidden in our hearts lest people find out what a fraud we are. But we are not frauds – we are just human beings who are learning how to exist in the world in the ways we know how.

This post is dedicated to my brother. He was the most important person in my life for decades. His memory will live on with me forever and his presence has altered my perspective on life in deep and profound ways. I was lucky to be witness to such a beautiful and strong human being. And while he may be gone, his presence will always exist in my heart – helping me to stay strong and always strive for more.

Sometimes we really need someone to open up to us about their inner struggles. I know many people have lost so many loved ones over the past year. I hope this post gives you some solace if you have lost someone. You are not alone.

With love,

Arpita

Ps. If you are struggling with the loss of a loved one and want to connect, please feel free to email me. I will try my best to be a listening ear.

Also, I’ve started a Patreon account. Please consider donating if you read my content regularly and you feel it helps you. It would further incentivize me to keep writing, creating art, and making films consistently.

I was listening to one of Spring Washam’s talks today. She is always a source of comfort to me when I am struggling on my spiritual path. Her words reminded me of the importance of finding the joy in kind acts – even when there is no impact.

There are too many lessons to list out from this talk – so I would recommend just listening to it. If you would like to check out other talks by her, click here.