Quiet reflections
March 31, 2025
-Karthik Gurumurthy
Sometimes it is better to say nothing and be quiet than saying the wrong thing.
-Karthik Gurumurthy
Sometimes it is better to say nothing and be quiet than saying the wrong thing.
-Karthik Gurumurthy
I've discovered a profound truth about personal power: no one can truly hurt me emotionally without my consent. Even in situations where someone shouts abuse, I ultimately choose how to interpret and respond to what's happening.
I've learned that when someone irritates me, the irritation doesn't come from their actions alone but from my response to those actions. When I feel provoked, I remind myself that it's actually my judgment of the situation that's causing my distress, not the incident itself.
This realization has been liberating. Instead of letting my emotions flare up based on appearances, I now try to step back from my immediate reactions. I've found that pulling back from the situation and taking a wider view helps me maintain composure. By creating this mental space between stimulus and response, I reclaim my emotional sovereignty and prevent others from dictating my internal state.
This approach doesn't deny that difficult interactions happen, but it affirms my power to choose how they affect me. The freedom comes in recognizing that I always retain control over my own responses, regardless of others' behavior.
-Karthik Gurumurthy
From my perspective, the foundation of all meaningful relationships—whether with my spouse, children, friends, or colleagues—lies in my ability to truly listen. I've come to understand that genuine listening requires significant emotional strength on my part.
When I reflect on my most successful relationships, I realize they flourished when I practiced patience, maintained openness, and genuinely desired to understand the other person. These aren't casual skills but highly developed qualities of character that I've had to consciously cultivate.
've noticed how often I fall into the trap of operating from a place of low emotional investment while simultaneously offering what I think is high-level advice. The irony isn't lost on me—it's far easier to dispense wisdom than to engage in the emotionally demanding work of authentic listening.
The times when I've set aside my own agenda, quieted my internal dialogue, and fully attended to someone else's perspective have led to my deepest connections. This kind of listening transforms not just my relationships but my understanding of myself as well.
-Karthik Gurumurthy
We all get stuck in these mental loops that become so automatic we don't even notice them anymore. We're the "authors of our lives" - our repeated words and behaviors become our life scripts. If these patterns make us happy and help our relationships, awesome! Keep those going. But when they lead to frustration and unhappiness (which is super common), we need to change them.
The crazy thing is how hard it is to break these patterns once they're established. They become this "natural part" of how we operate. Sometimes we don't even realize we're following negative scripts because they're so ingrained. Other times, we know our patterns are unhealthy but feel completely powerless to change them - so instead, we expect everyone else to change around us (how convenient, right?).
Our current commitment to negative scripts is the best predictor to see we'll keep following them. We like to think we're flexible and open to new ideas, but our actions tell a different story. We get comfortable in our familiar patterns, even when they're making us miserable.
if you're constantly feeling frustrated, angry, or unhappy, it's on YOU to rewrite those negative scripts. That might mean stepping outside your comfort zone and breaking away from patterns that have defined you for years.
-Karthik Gurumurthy
I've come to understand that my reality is shaped by my concepts about reality itself, regardless of whether those concepts are accurate or not.
The way I approach each day will influence what I receive from it. My expectations will manifest in my experience, which means I possess the personal power to direct my thoughts and consequently my actions. It's both empowering and exciting to recognize that I am responsible for my circumstances. I'll either navigate them with ease or encounter difficulties according to my established patterns.
What I perceive in any moment directly reflects my vision of that moment. If I desire more joy, enhanced freedom, or greater achievements, these remain within my reach—they won't escape me unless I allow them to. However, I must first determine my direction and then deliberately guide my steps along that path.
I go where I choose to go. I see what I choose to see. Everything can transform instantly with a shift in my perspective.
-Karthik Gurumurthy
In moments of clarity, my path seems true,
Life's blueprint unfolding as it's meant to do.
Plans neatly arranged like stars in their place,
A comforting map I'm eager to trace.
Then comes the tremor, unfelt until here—
The ground shifts beneath me, vibrations appear.
Like Los Angeles gleaming under golden light,
Masking the fault lines running deep out of sight.
From distance, how perfect the landscape appears,
A postcard of promise that drowns out my fears.
Yet under the surface, tectonic plates slide,
Creating upheavals impossible to hide.
The only true constant: nothing stays still.
Certainty crumbles despite strength of will.
In this understanding a wisdom takes form—
Embrace the unsettled, weather the storm.
For life, in its essence, refuses to settle,
Testing our spirits, proving our mettle.
Perhaps in accepting what cannot be known,
Lies freedom in dancing on ground that has grown
Familiar in shifting, reliable in change,
As fault lines of existence continuously rearrange.
Meaning:
Living in this world, I've come to realize the inherent unpredictability of existence. At times, everything seems to align with my plans and expectations, creating an illusion of control and stability. Then, without warning, unexpected disruptions emerge, shaking the foundations I thought were secure.
My experience reminds me of Los Angeles area—beautiful and appealing from a distance, with its promise of sunshine and opportunity. Yet beneath this attractive surface lies the reality of fault lines and tremors that can activate at any moment. The city's geography serves as a fitting metaphor for life itself.
Through these experiences, I've recognized that uncertainty remains the only true constant. Despite my best efforts to plan and prepare, I must acknowledge that unpredictability is woven into the fabric of existence. This understanding, while sometimes unsettling, also offers a certain freedom—the wisdom to hold my expectations lightly and find resilience in adapting to life's inevitable surprises.
-Karthik Gurumurthy
I've been thinking about this whole idea of aging and making mistakes lately. There's this comforting truth that as long as we learn from our past mistakes and try not to repeat them, we're doing okay.
I'm realizing that the rules that apply to me apply to everyone else too. We're all getting older together, and not necessarily getting much wiser! Once I accepted this, I found myself becoming more forgiving and kinder to both myself and others.
The good news is that time really does heal, and things do get better as you age. The more mistakes you've already made, the less likely you are to make those particular ones again. That's why youth is so valuable - it's basically this period where you can make tons of mistakes and get them out of your system early!
But here's the thing - this idea that we automatically get wiser with age? Not exactly true. We keep being just as capable of messing up, we just make different mistakes. It's like there's this whole "pickle jar" of fresh mistakes just waiting for us to fall into. The real wisdom is accepting this and not beating yourself up when you inevitably screw up something new.
I can look back and clearly see all the mistakes I've made, but I'm completely blind to the ones waiting for me around the corner. That's just how it works. True wisdom isn't about becoming perfect - it's about learning how to mess up and still walk away with your dignity and sanity intact.
When we're young, we think aging only happens to "old people," but it happens to all of us, and it seems to accelerate the older we get. The more adventurous and flexible we are, the more new territory we'll explore - which means more opportunities to make entirely new and creative mistakes!
In a way, making new mistakes is a sign you're still growing and trying new things. It's all part of the "getting older but not necessarily wiser" journey that we're all on together.
-Karthik Gurumurthy
I find Kahlil Gibran's quote really profound: "I have learned silence from the talkative; tolerance from the intolerant and kindness from the unkind. I should not be ungrateful to those teachers."
This resonates with me because of specific experiences in my life. For example, I once had a coworker who would dominate every meeting with endless talking, interrupting others and rarely pausing to listen. Initially, this drove me crazy, but over time, I began to notice how others disengaged when someone monopolized conversations. This "talkative teacher" inadvertently showed me the power of thoughtful silence - I became more deliberate about listening fully, creating space for quieter voices, and valuing quality of contribution over quantity. Their excessive talking taught me the importance of silence in a way that a naturally quiet person never could. It's such a powerful flip of perspective to see difficult people as teachers rather than just obstacles.
Similarly, I encountered a particularly judgmental family member who seemed to have rigid opinions about everything from politics to how I should live my life. While their intolerance was frustrating, it made me examine my own judgments more carefully. When I found myself starting to make snap judgments about others, I'd remember how it felt to be on the receiving end of that intolerance. This difficult relative became my unexpected teacher in developing a more open-minded, tolerant approach to differences.
The most powerful lesson came from a neighbor who rarely returned greetings and seemed deliberately unkind in small interactions. Their coldness initially made me defensive, but eventually, I challenged myself to respond with consistent warmth regardless of their reaction. This practice of offering kindness without expectation of return strengthened my ability to choose my responses rather than just react. The unkind neighbor taught me a deeper, more unconditional form of kindness than my naturally friendly connections ever could.
Gibran's wisdom helps me see that sometimes our best teachers aren't those who model what to do, but those who show us what not to do - and in that contrast, we find our own path more clearly. Every person I run into and every situation I face is basically offering me free life lessons if I'm paying attention. I've noticed I learn what I truly value in people when I pay attention to what bugs me about them. And I discover more about myself when I'm honest about the stuff that doesn't sit right with me.
It's so easy to dismiss experiences as "worthless" just because they're boring or annoying. I do the same with people whose backgrounds are different from mine. But it takes real intention and effort to see the value in every moment. Each one is teaching me something if I'm willing to pay attention. And it's funny how the lessons that help me grow the most are usually the ones I appreciate the least when they're happening.
I'm trying to remember that whatever annoys or upsets me today is probably going to teach me something I wouldn't learn any other way.
-Karthik Gurumurthy
You know, I've been thinking about how we respond to people's problems. Sometimes, we hear about issues that don't actually have neat solutions. But that's not why people share them with us in the first place. They're including us in their process, inviting us to be part of their journey.
What they need might be sympathy, a shoulder to cry on, or just some basic kindness. I've learned that knowing when to offer a comforting cup of tea and a listening ear versus when to roll up my sleeves with practical tools is a real skill. I try to get it right, but honestly? I still mess up more often than I'd like to admit.
And about conflicts? I've decided to always be the first to say sorry. Doesn't matter who started it or who was right. When both people are acting like stubborn children, someone needs to be the adult in the room.
We all have disagreements sometimes—it's just human nature. But I've made a commitment to myself that I'll be the one to extend the olive branch first. Why? Because I'm secure enough in myself that apologizing doesn't diminish me. I can say sorry and still stand tall, still keep my dignity intact.
When I apologize, it's genuine. I'm truly sorry that we got caught up in an argument that probably made us forget what really matters. By the time a disagreement escalates to a falling out, we've already made several mistakes along the way, no matter how small the initial issue was.
Strong people don't hesitate to apologize first. It's not weakness—it's actually one of the strongest moves you can make.
-Karthik Gurumurthy
I've discovered this about making positive life changes: don't preach about it! Keep it to yourself.
It's funny how when you change your attitude and start feeling better, people naturally notice and ask what you've done. The trick is to just say "nothing" or "just having a good day" without going into details. People don't actually want the full story - they're just making conversation.
It's like when someone asks "How are you?" They're expecting "Fine" as the answer, not your life story. If you start unloading all your problems (or your amazing transformation), they'll back away pretty quick! I am guilty of giving a long reply when I landed in US three decades back-:)
I'm learning to be someone who makes positive changes without broadcasting it. I have witnessed people who quietly applied the principles without bragging about it were much more successful.
Even when you're excited about your changes and want to share them, you should resist the urge. Let others discover things for themselves. It might seem unfair, but people tend to shy away when they feel they're being preached at.
It reminds me of ex-smokers who suddenly become evangelists for quitting and drive all their smoking friends crazy. Nobody likes that person! Better to just quietly go about your life, making your improvements with a bit of private smugness rather than public preaching. Make your positive changes, enjoy them, but don't become a smart-arse about it!
PS: Even this blog post, I wanted to keep it short but somehow we have a way to share more than what's necessary. I will stop now.
-Karthik Gurumurthy
I've been reflecting on Merle Shain's insight that "one often learns more from ten days of agony than from ten years of contentment," and it resonates deeply with my own journey.
When I look back at the periods of intense struggle in my life – I experienced a profound sense of betrayal upon discovering the lack of transparency within the business venture I had committed myself to, that painful misunderstanding with a relative of mine, or my dad's demise due to cancer that forced me to reevaluate everything – these concentrated moments of difficulty taught me more about myself than the long stretches of smooth sailing ever did. During my comfortable years, I was on autopilot, rarely questioning my direction or examining my values. But those brief periods of agony? They cracked me open.
Pain has this way of cutting through the noise and forcing clarity. It strips away pretense and reveals what truly matters. When everything hurts, I can't hide from myself anymore – I have to face my fears, my weaknesses, and ultimately, my capacity for growth. I don't usually welcome these changes (who does?), and sometimes the change actually makes things hurt even worse for a while. But given enough time, I usually look back and think "oh, now I get why that had to happen." I'm not saying I seek out suffering, but I've learned to approach difficult times with a different mindset. Instead of just enduring the pain until it passes, I try to remain open to its lessons, asking "What is this teaching me that contentment never could?"
The wisdom gained through suffering has a different quality – it's deeper, more embodied, and somehow more authentic than intellectual understanding alone. These lessons stick with me because they were earned through genuine struggle, not just passively received during easy times.
The chill, peaceful times in life have their own purpose too. They give me space to catch my breath, adjust to all the changes, and nurture this "new me" that's emerging from all the hard stuff.
I've been working on seeing all my experiences - good and bad - as necessary parts of my journey. When I can do this, I drop a lot of the negativity I'd normally attach to difficult situations. Sometimes I can even appreciate those tough times, recognizing how they've helped me grow into who I am today.
A positive attitude today will definitely make everything I experience more valuable. And the cool thing is, that attitude is totally my choice to make.
-Karthik Gurumurthy
King Midas's story is a Greek legend that powerfully illustrates the danger of getting exactly what we wish for.
In the ancient tale, King Midas was obsessed with accumulating wealth, particularly gold. When granted a wish by the gods, he wished for the power to turn everything he touched into gold - the famous "Midas touch." Initially, this seemed like a dream come true - every object he touched instantly transformed into solid gold, makintg him unimaginably wealthy.
However, the tragic consequences of his wish quickly became apparent:
The story reaches its climax when Midas realizes his "blessing" is actually a curse. He becomes desperate to rid himself of this power, understanding too late that his obsession with wealth had cost him everything that truly mattered in life.
I see modern versions of the Midas touch all around me. Take my friend Alex's father, a successful tech entrepreneur who, like Midas, was obsessed with turning everything into 'gold' - in this case, monetary success. He pushed all his children toward high-paying tech careers, regardless of their interests. Just as Midas discovered the terrible cost of his wish when he turned his daughter into a golden statue, Alex's father realized too late that his singular focus on financial success was turning his relationships with his children cold and lifeless.
The story's wisdom particularly hits home when I think about parenting patterns I've observed. I remember Elika, a student o f mine whose parents were so focused on creating a 'golden' future for her - prestigious college, law school, partner track - that they inadvertently turned every family interaction into a performance review. Like Midas's power, what seemed like a blessing (their resources and connections) became a burden that stifled her authentic self.
What strikes me most about the Midas story is how it exposes the confusion between what we think will make us happy and what actually brings fulfillment. I've experienced this myself when I was so focused on achieving certain professional milestones that I nearly turned my passion into something cold and lifeless - much like Midas's golden touch. It took a personal crisis, my own version of Midas's wake-up call, to realize I was pursuing success at the cost of what truly mattered.
The key lessons I've drawn from this ancient tale feel surprisingly relevant:
These lessons become particularly poignant when I think about how they apply to parenting and mentoring.
I've seen the opposite approach work wonderfully with another family. My colleague Lisa's parents gave their children what I call 'fertile soil' rather than a 'golden touch.' When their son showed interest in becoming a chef instead of joining the family's engineering firm, they supported his passion while ensuring he understood the practical challenges. They provided resources for growth without dictating the direction - more like gardeners than goldsmiths.
I've noticed three critical patterns:
The irony, much like in Midas's story, is that parents and mentors who hold too tightly to their vision of success often end up with exactly what they didn't want - children and mentees who are either rebellious or unfulfilled. The real gold, I've learned, isn't in the outcomes we can control, but in the genuine growth and discovery we can nurture.
-Karthik Gurumurthy
Let me share my perspective on how this fear of mistakes plays out, something I've observed closely in our educational and professional circles.
I see it all the time - bright students who are genuinely fascinated by pure sciences, perhaps physics or molecular biology, but end up choosing engineering because it feels like the 'safer' path. I think about my friend Vidya, who loved theoretical physics but opted for computer engineering because, in her words, 'At least I know I'll get a job.' I've seen brilliant minds who light up during chemistry experiments or astronomical discussions, but choose engineering because it's the most-trodden path.
I think about my friend Newman, who spent ten years in corporate finance not because he loved it, but because it felt safe. He had this brilliant idea for a technology startup, but kept saying, 'What if I fail? What if I lose my savings? What if people think I'm foolish?' He was so afraid of making a mistake that he made what I consider the bigger mistake - not trying at all.
I see this pattern play out in subtle ways too. There's my colleague Priya, who excels at creative problem-solving but keeps quiet in meetings because she's afraid of suggesting something 'wrong.' Or my friend Mahesh, who stayed in his hometown because moving to pursue his dreams in a bigger city seemed too uncertain. Each time, the fear of making mistakes becomes a cage that limits our potential.
But here's what I've learned: those who achieve the most remarkable things often have the messiest journeys. Take my friend Alex- he left a prestigious law career to start a tech company, had a lot of hiccups, and then finally succeeded. Each 'mistake' taught him something crucial that contributed to his eventual success. If we refuse to cut ourselves some slack for messing up, then we'll be disinclined to take chances.
The irony is that playing it safe doesn't actually protect us from mistakes - it just limits our potential for growth and discovery. I've started to see that the real mistake isn't failing at something new - it's letting the fear of failure keep us marching along with everybody else, never discovering what might have been possible if we'd dared to step off the beaten path. If we're afraid that the beat of our own drummer might lead us to a misstep, then we can only march along with everybody else.
-Karthik Gurumurthy
I've come to realize that finding your true calling is less like following a GPS and more like exploring an unmarked trail. Take my friend Gikku's journey - he started as an accountant because it seemed logical and secure. Few years in, he felt that nagging emptiness, despite his years of investing in the field.
He first tried working on umpiring, thinking it might fill the creative void. Then he explored sport journalism which led him to realize he loved the sports aspect more than the Journalism part. Each 'detour' wasn't really a detour at all - it was a necessary step in understanding what he truly wanted.
I see this in my own journey too. I spent years in Chemistry, then in Bioinformatics, then program management and coaching. Each role taught me something crucial about what energized me and what drained me. Like my Gikku's experience with accountancy - where he had to fully understand it wasn't his true calling before he could embrace sports journalism - sometimes we need to fully explore and even exhaust certain paths to recognize they're not quite right.
What fascinates me is how our minds work in these strange ways,. We think we should have clear, logical progressions, but often our hearts know things before our minds can explain them. It's like my colleague Sarah, who kept taking art classes while pursuing her PhD in biology. Everyone, including herself, saw it as just a hobby until she realized her true passion was in scientific illustration - a perfect blend of both worlds that she couldn't have planned for.
The process is often complicated by external expectations and internal guilt. A former coworker of mine had a prestigious law degree but found himself drawn to opening a small bakery. The hardest part wasn't learning the new skills - it was giving herself permission to want something different from what he'd invested years preparing for.
What I've learned is that this messiness is not just normal - it's necessary. Each 'failed' attempt, each pivot, each moment of doubt contributes to our understanding of ourselves. I've noticed that true calling often reveals itself in those small moments of lost time - when you're so engaged that hours feel like minutes. Like when you're breaking down the periodic table into a story that makes students' eyes light up with understanding, or when you find yourself sketching molecular structures on napkins at dinner because you're excited about making a complex concept clearer.When we finally find our true calling, it often comes with that unmistakable feeling of both responsibility and joy - a gravity that holds us in place not through obligation, but through genuine alignment with who we are.
The key is to stay open to these seemingly random explorations while paying attention to what truly resonates. Sometimes our calling finds us while we're busy looking somewhere else.
-Karthik Gurumurthy
I've been reflecting deeply on what privilege truly means, and it's fascinating how it goes far beyond just material comfort. While having a comfortable home, good food, and financial security is important, I've come to understand that the real essence of privilege lies in having choices - the freedom to explore different paths in life.
This reminds me of two contrasting stories that really illuminate this idea. First, there's my friend Charu, who comes from a well-to-do family and attended an elite university. On paper, she had everything - financial security, excellent education, and clear career paths laid out before her. But her privilege paradoxically became a constraint because her family had such rigid expectations about what constituted an 'acceptable' career. They'd given her a universe of possibilities with one hand while taking most of them away with the other, pushing her toward traditional prestigious professions like law or medicine, regardless of her own interests.
Then there's this other story that really resonates with me - about someone who took a wonderfully meandering path to find their calling. They started in mechanical engineering, then followed their curiosity through physics, mathematics, fine arts, and finally to architecture. What strikes me is how each shift wasn't a failure but a necessary step in their journey. Despite their parents' anxiety and friends' confusion, each change brought them closer to understanding what they truly wanted.
This journey particularly speaks to me because I've seen similar patterns in my own life and those of others around me. I have a cousin who started in Commerce, switched to psychology, and eventually found his passion in Marine Management . At each step, he was told she was 'wasting' his opportunities, but really, he was using his privilege exactly as it should be used - as the freedom to explore and find his authentic path.
The real insight for me is that true privilege isn't just about having opportunities - it's about having the freedom to explore them without being constrained by others' expectations or rigid definitions of success. It's like having a map with multiple possible routes rather than being forced down a single predetermined path.
This makes me think about how we often mistake 'the right choice' for 'the safe choice' or 'the obvious choice.' Real privilege is having the courage and support to wander through that labyrinth of choices until you find what truly resonates with you, even if that path looks messy or unconventional to others.
-Karthik Gurumurthy
I've been reflecting deeply on this parenting philosophy of giving children 'enough to do anything, but not enough to do nothing.' It's like providing a robust launching pad while ensuring they still need to build their own rocket.
I see this in how my friend Priya parents her children. She pays for their college education - giving them the freedom to pursue their dreams without crippling debt - but expects them to work part-time jobs for their personal expenses. This teaches them both the value of education and the importance of work ethic. The 'enough to do anything' is the education; the 'not enough to do nothing' is the responsibility for their own spending money.
Another example that really strikes me is how my colleague Dylan handles his family business. Instead of simply handing his daughter a executive position, he first required her to work elsewhere for five years. He gave her 'enough' by providing the opportunity to eventually join the family business, but not 'enough to do nothing' by making her prove herself in the outside world first. She had to earn her way back in, bringing fresh perspectives and proven capabilities.
I've also observed this principle in smaller, everyday situations. Like my friend Visu who helps his son with a down payment for a house but expects him to qualify for and pay the mortgage himself. Or another family I know who funded their children's graduate school but only after they'd worked for two years and could articulate exactly why they needed the advanced degree.
What fascinates me is how this approach creates a perfect balance between support and challenge. It's like installing training wheels but making sure they come off at the right time. Too many training wheels for too long, and the child never learns true balance. Remove them too early, and you risk unnecessary falls and lost confidence.
I've noticed that families who practice this principle tend to raise children who are both confident in their abilities and realistic about life's challenges. They understand that while they may have advantages, those advantages are tools to build with, not cushions to rest on. They learn that privilege comes with responsibility, and opportunity must be matched with effort.
This balance seems particularly crucial in today's world, where we're trying to prepare children for careers and challenges that might not even exist yet. The goal isn't to give them everything, but to give them just enough to develop the capabilities to figure things out for themselves.
-Karthik Gurumurthy
Lot of people think of luck as an opportunity that lands in our lap - but what we do with that opportunity is what truly matters.
For example, someone gets introduced to an influential person at a random networking event (initial luck). They could either let that connection fade, or they could follow up thoughtfully, provide value to that relationship, and turn it into a meaningful professional partnership. Those who "earn" this luck often send relevant articles to their new contact, offer to help with projects, and maintain genuine communication.
Another example is receiving an unexpected job interview through a friend's recommendation. The initial luck is getting the interview, but earning it means thoroughly preparing for the interview, researching the company extensively, and then working diligently once hired to prove the recommendation was warranted.
Think of a musician who gets a viral moment on social media. That's the initial luck - but turning that viral moment into a sustainable career requires consistent content creation, engaging with fans, and continuously improving their craft. Many viral sensations fade away, while others "earn" their lucky break through dedication.
There's also everyday luck, like having good health. We can earn this luck by maintaining healthy habits, regular exercise, and proper nutrition - or we can take it for granted and potentially lose it.
The key principle is that initial luck opens a door, but it's our subsequent actions that determine whether we walk through that door and make something meaningful of the opportunity. This perspective invites me to ask myself: How am I honoring the advantages I've been given? Am I using my own "grace" - whatever form it takes - to create value for others? It's not about feeling guilty for our advantages or resentful of our disadvantages, but about recognizing that the true measure of our worth lies in what we do with whatever circumstances we've been given.
Even in everyday situations - maybe you stumbled upon a useful professional connection through a chance meeting. Humility is understanding "I didn't strategically orchestrate this meeting - it was random luck." But action is following through, being reliable, adding value to the relationship, and building something meaningful from that initial lucky encounter.
The power lies in this dual recognition: we can simultaneously acknowledge the role of chance in our lives (keeping us humble) while also taking full responsibility for what we do with our circumstances (spurring us to action). It's about saying "I may not have chosen my starting point, but I can choose what I do from here."
-Karthik Gurumurthy
I'm struck by the deep wisdom about life's fundamental randomness and what we make of it. By Life's fundamental randomness, I mean the inherent unpredictability and chance elements that shape our existence - where and when we're born, the opportunities or challenges that unexpectedly arise, the people we happen to meet, and countless other factors outside our control.
-Karthik Gurumurthy
Let me tell you about Shoba, a seasoned public speaker who discovered three magical secrets about transforming time. It all started when she was preparing for what seemed like just another corporate presentation.
Staring at her blank slides one evening, Shoba caught herself asking that age-old question: "How am I going to fill these 60 minutes?" Then it hit her - she was asking the wrong question entirely. It wasn't about filling time; it was about filling minds. She remembered watching her favorite teacher in school, who never seemed concerned about the clock but instead focused on lighting up eyes with understanding.
But Shoba's story doesn't stop there. One day, stuck in a two-hour flight delay, she noticed something fascinating. While everyone around her was mindlessly scrolling through their phones, muttering about "killing time," an elderly gentleman next to her was writing heartfelt letters to his grandchildren. "I'm not killing time," he told her with a twinkle in his eye, "I'm mining it for gold."
The final piece of Shoba's time transformation clicked into place after a particularly chaotic week. She'd been beating herself up about "making up for lost time" when her wise friend Sofia stopped her in her tracks.
"Lost time?" Sofia asked, raising an eyebrow. "Tell me, Shoba, can you change what happened yesterday?"
"No," Shoba admitted.
"Can you control what happens tomorrow?"
"No..."
"Then why waste today worrying about either?"
From these experiences, Shoba learned three powerful lessons about transforming time:
Now, whenever Shoba speaks, trains, or even just waits in line at the coffee shop, she remembers these lessons. She's become something of a time alchemist, turning ordinary moments into golden opportunities for growth, connection, and purpose.
And here's the best part - she discovered that when you treat each moment as precious, you never really waste time at all. You just keep transforming it into something better.
-Karthik Gurumurthy
Hey, let's get real about New Year's resolutions - they usually crash and burn faster than a TikTok trend! Instead of saying "I'm gonna lose 10 pounds" (and giving up by February), let's talk about building habits that actually stick.
Think of it like building a house: you don't just throw up the walls and hope for the best. You need a solid foundation. Here are some game-changing habits that actually work:
The Secret Sauce? Don't Try to Change Everything at Once: It's like trying to juggle while riding a unicycle - you're gonna fall! Start small. Maybe begin with one habit, like reading for 10 minutes before bed. Once that's solid, add another.
And here's the real talk: Your willpower is like a phone battery - it runs out! That's why you might crush your healthy eating goals all day but demolish a bag of chips at night. When this happens (and it will), don't beat yourself up. Just recharge and start fresh.
Remember: The goal isn't to become perfect - it's to become better. As they say, Rome wasn't built in a day, but they were laying bricks every hour. What brick are you going to lay today?
-Karthik Gurumurthy
-Karthik Gurumurthy
Hey, want to unlock your hidden superpowers? Here's the deal: we've all got this massive reservoir of potential just waiting to be tapped into. Let me break down some cool ways to make that happen!
-Karthik Gurumurthy
I just read a heartwarming story in Times of India about learning to let go! So this retired Indian Air Force veteran had accumulated quite the collection over the years - we're talking eight different uniforms, six types of shoes, and enough headgear to start a hat shop! His first big decluttering win? Making his wife super happy by emptying out his wardrobe.
Then came the really tricky stuff. Moving from a 4-bedroom house to a 3-bedroom apartment meant he had to part with all kinds of things, from kitchen stuff to curtains. The toughest part? His massive collection of books and magazines - we're talking hundreds of Reader's Digests and National Geographic! (That would give Marie Kondo a run for her money!)
But wait, it gets more touching. After his wife passed away, he cleared out her cupboards in just three days, donating everything to orphanages and hospitals. Though he admits his heart skipped a beat seeing her empty cupboard the next day. Now whenever his son asks for something, he sweetly says, "It's in your mama's cupboard."
The final decluttering mission came after his cancer surgeries, when he decided to embrace the simple life. He's now down to just eight sets of basics and five pairs of PJs in his travel bag. But here's the catch - he ends his story wondering if he can declutter his memories as easily as his possessions. Pretty deep, right?
Best part? He's still writing and sharing his story, showing us all that sometimes having less stuff actually gives you more life. How's that for inspiration to clean out our own closets?
-Karthik Gurumurthy
As I sit here on this crisp December morning of 2024, watching the sun peek through my window, I can't help but reflect on the incredible journey that brought me here. You know, life has this funny way of teaching us lessons when we least expect them, and over the years, I've collected quite a few pearls of wisdom that I'd love to share with you.
Picture this: We're all like unique snowflakes drifting through life. Even identical twins, believe it or not, chart their own distinct paths. It took me years to realize that comparing myself to others was like comparing apples to shooting stars – completely pointless! As my friend Robert would say, "Don't strive to be the best; strive to be the only you."
Speaking of journeys, I've started keeping this fascinating little habit. Every evening, I jot down my daily victories in what I call my "celebration journal." It could be something as simple as dragging myself out of bed for an early morning workout or my failing student excited about a new concept. You'd be amazed at how these little wins add up! It's like building a personal highlight reel of your life.
But here's something that might surprise you: being a jack-of-all-trades isn't such a bad thing after all. Take Roger Federer, for instance. Did you know that as a kid, he just wanted to meet Boris Becker and maybe win six grand slams? He wasn't obsessed with being the GOAT like Tiger Woods was. Life has taught me that having multiple interests and skills is like having different arrows in your quiver – you never know which one you'll need to hit your target.
Your environment, oh boy, that's a game-changer! Think of it like being a plant – you need the right soil, sunlight, and water to thrive. I've learned to surround myself with beauty, tranquility, and inspiration. It's amazing how some inspiring books can transform your mental landscape.
Time management? Forget about it! Instead, I've learned to manage myself. It's like being the conductor of your own orchestra – you need to know which instruments (tasks) to play at what time. I've become quite good at saying "no" to the trivial many to focus on the vital few. It's liberating, really.
Let me tell you about this turning point in my life back in 2012. I sat down and wrote what I call my personal mission statement: "My mission is to maximize my potential and help others maximize theirs." Simple, right? But it's been my North Star ever since. It's like having a personal GPS for life's journey.
You know what's funny? We often forget to celebrate how far we've come. We're so busy looking at the mountain ahead that we forget to look back at the valley we've already crossed.
Here's a secret I've learned: success isn't about what others think it should be. It's about what makes your heart sing. I've seen people with all the fame and fortune in the world who still feel empty inside. True success is like a perfectly tailored suit – it needs to fit YOU, not anyone else.
But perhaps the most important lesson I've learned is about love – love for life, love for others, and love for ourselves. Life isn't a dress rehearsal; we get one shot at this magnificent performance. The most touching reflections I've heard from elderly folks aren't about career achievements or material success – they're about wishing they'd spent more time with the people they love.
And gratitude? That's the secret sauce that ties everything together. It's like having a pair of magical glasses that help you see the beauty in every moment, even the challenging ones. Just yesterday, I challenged myself to write down 30 things I'm grateful for. You know what? The first 20 were easy, but pushing beyond that really made me appreciate the little things I often take for granted.
As we venture into 2025, I carry these lessons with me like precious stones in my pocket, each one polished by experience and time. They remind me that life isn't about reaching a destination – it's about enjoying the dance, learning from the missteps, and keeping our hearts open to the wonderful possibilities that each new day brings.
Remember, your story is still being written, and you're holding the pen. Make it a story worth telling.
-Karthik Gurumurthy
I have started seeing everything differently. You know how when you're about to go on a long trip, you get choosier about what really needs your attention? That's how I live now. When I catch myself getting worked up about small stuff, I think "Will this matter in my final moments?" Usually, the answer's no.
Here's a practical example - Few years back, I used to stress about keeping up with the Joneses, always wanting the newest gadgets or a fancier car. Now I focus more on collecting moments than things. Last week, instead of upgrading my phone, I spent that money taking my family out for a day we'll actually remember.
I've also gotten better at what I call "cleaning as I go" - not just physical stuff, but emotional baggage too. I try not to let the sun set on anger or unresolved issues. If I have a disagreement with someone, I handle it pretty quickly now. Because honestly, who wants their last interaction with someone to be a petty argument?
The funny thing is, planning for a good ending has made me better at living. I'm more intentional about telling people what they mean to me - no saving it for eulogies. When my friend did something really thoughtful last month, I didn't just think "that's nice" - I called him up and told him how much I appreciated it.
This mindset has also made me weirdly more adventurous. Since I'm not pretending I'll live forever, I'm less likely to put things off. Want to learn a new thing? Why not? Go for it. The clock's ticking, but that makes every minute more valuable, not less.
-Karthik Gurumurthy
I've been reflecting on Orwell's provocative statement about writers harboring vanity, selfishness, and laziness, with mysterious motives lurking beneath. This got me thinking about how we navigate information in today's world.
We're constantly flooded with information - print, sound, images coming at us from all directions. I've learned to cultivate a healthy skepticism, questioning what agenda might be behind the messages. What does this person, this organization, this advertiser stand to gain by telling me this?
But I've realized there's a delicate balance. While skepticism is valuable, I can't live in a state of constant doubt. I need to believe in something, even when it might seem implausible to others. It's fascinating how in our age of widespread corruption and cynicism, faith still persists - perhaps because it's fundamental to human nature.
Faith, I've found, is actually healthy - it affirms human worth and our connection to something larger than ourselves. I consider myself fortunate to have developed both faith and critical thinking. My belief in people's essential goodness and the fundamental rightness of our world renews my energy and reminds me to treat others with the respect their humanity deserves. And interestingly, when I approach others with this belief, they often respond by respecting my faith in them.
Of course, there are times when my faith is betrayed or when I make mistakes in judgment. But I try not to let these experiences make me cynical. These disappointments are just part of the mystery of being human.
I find comfort in believing in my own capacity for goodness, and with that belief, somehow everything feels like it will turn out alright.
-Karthik Gurumurthy
Ever notice how some people live like they're always getting ready for their "real life" to start? Like that friend who's always saying "I'll start traveling once I get a better job" or "I'll learn guitar after I retire." Meanwhile, time's just zipping by like a Netflix series on autoplay!
Here's the deal: time is like having a gift card with no balance display - you don't know how much you've got left, which makes every bit of it super precious. Pretty heavy stuff, right? But here's a cool way to think about it: death is like the sun - it affects everything we do, but you don't want to stare directly at it or you'll go nuts!
Think about when you're most excited about stuff:
The ancient philosophers weren't being dramatic when they thought about death - they were just trying to live life in "HD" instead of standard definition! They were like, "If you want to really appreciate your Monday, pretend it's your last Monday ever."
It's like when you're at the end of your vacation - suddenly every moment feels more special, right? That's the kind of awareness they were after for everyday life.
And here's the really cool part: what sticks around after we're gone isn't our Instagram posts or fancy job titles - it's the impact we had on others. Think about it like this: your grandma's special recipe, your dad's cricket annotations , your teacher's life advice - that stuff becomes part of who you are, and then part of who your kids become.
So instead of living like you're always in the waiting room for your real life to sart, live like you're already in the main event. Because, plot twist: you are!
Bottom line? Don't put off telling people you love them, taking that trip, or learning that thing you've always wanted to learn. The time is now, folks!
-Karthik Gurumurthy
-Karthik Gurumurthy
-Karthik Gurumurthy
I've been reflecting on Eleanor Belmont's witty observation about private railroad cars - how we're naturally drawn to luxury and privacy. It's made me think about my own relationship with solitude.
I've noticed that at different stages of my development, I experience this pull toward being alone. There's something essential about these moments of solitude - they're when I truly connect with myself and recognize the unique qualities that make me who I am. In those quiet moments, away from the noise of everyday life, I can feel the subtle inclinations of my inner self.
The silence offers a special kind of clarity. When I create space for stillness, the answers I've been searching for often emerge naturally. All those distractions that typically cloud my thinking lose their power when I embrace solitude as a welcome companion rather than something to be avoided.
I'm realizing how much I need these breaks from others - from the chaos of work responsibilities, family demands, and social expectations. Without this distance, I struggle to find the clarity needed to make good decisions about my next steps. It's nearly impossible to hear that quiet internal guidance when surrounded by constant chatter and anxiety-inducing stimuli.
I'm making a commitment to appreciate those moments of silence today. I know they'll reward me with the guidance and mental clarity I'm seeking. There's a certain richness in these quiet spaces that I'm learning to treasure.
-Karthik Gurumurthy
I've been thinking a lot about how conquering my fear of death actually leads to a richer life. It's not just about accepting the inevitable—it's about transforming how I live each day.
I love that quote I read: "Love is stronger than death." No matter how final death seems, it can't separate us from love or erase our memories. Life ultimately wins that battle. And as Sri Chinmoy put it, "Death is not the end. Death is the road. Life is the traveler and the soul is the guide."
Research actually backs this up. People with religious beliefs often have a more positive outlook on death, probably because religion helps us see beyond the event itself. For deeply religious folks like monks, death isn't feared but embraced as a transition to something better.
Whether religious or not, acknowledging death as part of life's natural cycle helps take the weight off my shoulders. It's liberating to realize I can't change the fact that I'll die someday—it removes the burden of responsibility from my hands and lets me focus on living.
When I was in fourth grade, I met with a major accident. It would have ended my life but somehow because of someone's Prayers and Blessings I survived the car accident. In Tamil we aptly say, "கிடைச்ச வரைக்கும் ஆதாயம்" Whatever I have gotten is a bonus.
I've found that living fully is the best antidote to death anxiety. When I fill my days with happiness, meaningful relationships, and purpose, death becomes less scary. I don't want to hide away in fear—I want to live without regrets, knowing I did my absolute best with the time I had.
Meditation has been another powerful tool. It's teaching me to accept life completely—both the good and the bad—with mental discipline that helps me grow as a person.
I'm trying to maintain an optimistic outlook since research shows optimists have better health outcomes than pessimists. Plus, I try to remember that death serves a purpose in nature's grand design—keeping the world renewed and, for those suffering, offering release from pain.
Taking care of my health, cultivating hobbies like gardening and volunteer work, and surrounding myself with understanding companions helps keep my mind peacefully occupied instead of worrying about the inevitable.
I want to develop the compassion and inner peace that will let me face my end without regrets or grievances. As that Persian saying goes, when death comes to a person of faith, they have a smile on their face. That's how I hope to meet it—with tranquility and acceptance, whenever my time comes.
-Karthik Gurumurthy
Death is something we all face—it's the one guarantee in life. But I've been thinking about how we shouldn't waste our time worrying about it.
When I die, sure, most people will eventually forget me, but those who truly matter—my family and friends—will keep my memory alive. Their love doesn't just disappear when I'm gone.
I find comfort in talking openly about my fears with people I trust. Sometimes just expressing those worries helps ease the mental burden. And if that's not enough, there's no shame in seeking help from a therapist or spiritual guide.
Life is too precious to spend worrying about something I can't control. Instead, I try to fill my days with joy—time with family, good hobbies, travel, anything that shifts my focus from dying to truly living.
Death is the last thing I should worry about. Accepting it as part of life's natural cycle brings freedom. Whether through religious faith, meditation, or simply embracing life's seasons from childhood to old age, understanding death's inevitability can actually be liberating.
As Socrates wisely put it, fearing death is just pretending to know what we don't. Nobody knows if death might actually be the greatest blessing. Yet we fear it like it's certain evil.
The key is living fully in the present moment. When I'm fully engaged with life, there's no room for death anxiety. Each moment I'm truly alive is a moment when fear disappears.
Death comes unexpectedly, without announcement. But by understanding life as a continuous cycle and embracing each moment, I can welcome death when it comes as the natural conclusion to a life well-lived.
-Karthik Gurumurthy
-Karthik Gurumurthy
Hey there! Let's talk about something real - you know that quiet change that comes with getting older? It's kind of like watching the seasons change, but it's happening to you. 🍂
At 40, it hits you - things are different. You know those meetings where everyone used to hang on your every word? Now they're buzzing along without asking what you think. But here's the thing - it's not personal! It's just life doing its thing. The cool part? Your real impact isn't in today's meeting - it's in all those lives you've touched along the way.
By 45, you get this "aha" moment about work. That corporate world you thought couldn't survive without you? Spoiler alert: it keeps spinning! And you know what? That's actually awesome! It's like finally taking off those uncomfortable shoes you've been wearing all day. Now you can focus on the good stuff - sharing what you know, helping others grow. Because let's face it, inspiring someone else is way cooler than any fancy job title.
At 50, it's like society's playing this game of "let's pretend older folks are invisible." But hey, plot twist - it's actually kind of freeing! The younger crowd doesn't know you were once the boss of everything, and that's actually perfect. You can just be... you. No pressure, no pretending. And those old friends who still call just to check in? They're like gold, seriously. Pure gold. ✨
And when it's finally time to peace out? It's all good! It's just the last chapter of an amazing story - your story. Full of laughs, tears, and everything in between.
So here's the deal: while you're still kicking, live it up! Laugh so hard you snort, hug people like you mean it, do that thing you've been putting off. Treat your friendships like precious plants - give them attention, watch them grow. Because when the credits roll, nobody's going to remember your job title or your bank balance. They'll remember how you made them feel.
Just keep spreading those good vibes, be present, and boom - you're basically immortal!
This one goes out to everyone who gets it - time doesn't erase the awesome stuff, it just turns it into something new.
PS: Getting older isn't about fading away - it's about glowing differently. And honestly? It looks pretty good on you! 💫
-Karthik Gurumurthy
I just enjoyed reading the HBR article of "When your Team Bypasses you to get things done" by Jenny Fernandez. This is the gist of what was shared.
-Karthik Gurumurthy
You know what's cool about saying "thank you"? It's like putting on special glasses that help you spot all the good stuff in your life - things you might totally miss otherwise because you're too busy or stressed to notice. Plus, when you thank someone, it's this awesome reminder that you're not flying solo in life. We're all connected!
Now, let's talk about holding grudges - there's this super smart quote from the Talmud that basically says holding a grudge is as dumb as cutting one hand with a knife and then stabbing your other hand for revenge. Like, who are you really hurting here?
When someone hurts you, yeah, that pain is real - no one's saying it isn't. It's like getting a real cut - you can't just pretend it doesn't hurt. But here's the thing: holding onto that pain is like choosing to cut yourself over and over again. Ouch!
Think of forgiveness like gratitude's cousin - it's something you do for others, but really, you're the one who benefits most. There's this great way of looking at it: forgiving means giving up hope for a better past. Because let's be real - you can't change what happened yesterday, but you've got total control over what you do today and tomorrow.
Bottom line? Strong people know where to focus their energy. They know they can't control the past, but they sure can control how they handle it going forward!
-Karthik Gurumurthy
You know what's crazy cool? Being human! And I'm not talking about all the stuff we haven't done yet or what's missing in our lives. It's about celebrating who we are and the wild fact that we can become whoever we want to be.
Think about it - nobody's controlling your path or writing your story for you. You get to choose! How awesome is that? It's like having this superpower to transform yourself, letting go of yesterday's baggage and making each day a little better than the last. And once you get into that groove, it becomes second nature - like leveling up in a video game, but in real life!
But here's the thing - it's not about reaching some final destination. The fun is in playing the game! It's like sports - it's not just about winning, it's about that next serve, that next shot, that next strategic move. Every time you think you've hit your peak, your heart's beating fast because you know there's more to come.
Nothing in this world stays the same - everything keeps evolving. We haven't found the world's best idea yet because there's always a better one coming. Think about music: you could be the greatest musician ever, but there's always a new tune waiting to be discovered. Even the pros who've composed thousands of songs can sit down at their keyboard and create something totally new from the same basic notes.
It's like product development - maybe you just need to tweak one ingredient, change the packaging, or adjust the lighting to make something good even better. And that's the beauty of being human - if we can improve everything around us, then we can definitely improve ourselves too!
So whether you're already at the top of your game or just starting out, there's always room to grow, learn, and surprise yourself. That's the real magic of being human - knowing that even when you're crushing it, there's still something new and exciting waiting around the corner. How cool is that?
-Karthik Gurumurthy
Today I'm reflecting on what freedom truly means - the power to choose my own burdens. I realize we're all haunted by certain fears, and it's only through facing pain that we grow beyond these fears, something I can only fully appreciate looking back.
When I'm in the midst of painful confrontations or overwhelming anxiety, it's hard to feel joy, peace, or security. But I need to remember that no painful burden - whether paralyzing anxiety or a relationship where I feel victimized - has simply "happened" to me without some level of acceptance on my part, however passive.
I have the freedom to reject unhealthy conditions and burdens, though accepting this freedom from pain isn't always easy - it's part of being human.
When I look at my struggles with fresh eyes and take responsibility for them, it doesn't necessarily make them easier, but it does restore my personal power. I'm not powerless or worthless at the mercy of others. In all my relationships, I'm an equal partner with the ability to redefine the terms at any moment.
Today, I am free to be who I want to be, to grow or not, to experience joy or pain - the choice is mine.
-Karthik Gurumurthy
I've found that being real about it actually helps. Like, yes, death is part of the package deal of being alive - kind of like how seasons change. Once I started thinking about it that way, it got less scary. It's like what Socrates said (in a way less stuffy version): we're kind of silly to fear something we don't even understand.
I've learned that planning for a peaceful exit is just as important as planning for retirement. It's kind of funny - we spend so much time planning vacations or career moves, but we shy away from planning our final chapter. Like that beautiful quote from Elizabeth Kübler-Ross says, we're all just like falling stars, shining bright for our moment.
Yeah, it's not the most fun topic, but accepting that we're not here forever helps us live better now. I try to make each day count by doing something meaningful - whether it's helping others or just spreading a bit of joy. I try to live in the now. I've also discovered that keeping busy with stuff that matters really helps.
The biggest game-changer? Understanding that love outlasts everything. Those connections we make, the memories we create - that stuff sticks around. Like that philosopher said - death might be strong, but love's stronger. It can't take away the good stuff we leave behind.
-Karthik Gurumurthy
You know, we tend to avoid talking about death like it's some kind of taboo subject. I get it - it's heavy stuff. But I've learned some interesting things about facing it, especially from this amazing story about Ramana Maharshi, who had this wild experience when he was just 16.
Picture this: Here's this regular teenager, sitting in his uncle's house, when suddenly he gets hit with this overwhelming fear of death. Instead of freaking out and running to someone else, he does something pretty remarkable - he decides to face it head-on. It's like when you're afraid of something and decide to look it straight in the eye.
Here's what works for me when thinking about death:
I try this morning practice sometimes - kind of like a thought experiment. I find a quiet moment, usually early morning when everything's peaceful, and just sit with some real questions: "What would happen to my family? Have I taken care of everything they'd need? What would I want to say to them?" Sure, it's scary at first, but it actually helps make peace with the whole idea.
There's this big difference I've noticed between running from death and accepting it as part of life. Like in Jain tradition, they have this practice called Sallekhana - it's not about giving up on life, but about making peace with its natural end. It's kind of like preparing for a journey you know you'll take someday, but without obsessing over it.
The most practical thing I've learned? Live fully now. I used to waste time worrying about stuff I couldn't control. These days, I focus more on creating good memories with my family, picking up new hobbies, helping others where I can. I've found that when you're really living, the fear of death naturally takes a backseat.
-Karthik Gurumurthy
As I go through my daily routine, I sometimes catch myself feeling a bit restless. Every morning, I follow the same pattern - I get up, I grade my students work, tackle the housework, start work, prepare for classes, take care of everyone else's needs, the usual chores, and finally climb into bed. Then I wake up and do it all over again.
At first glance, this repetitive cycle might seem dull. I used to focus on how each day mirrors the last, wondering if I was missing out on something more exciting. But lately, I've started to see things differently.
When I lay my head on my pillow at night, peacefully planning what to plan for tomorrow, I realize something profound: this simple act of calm planning is a luxury many people will never experience. Think of the people in Ukraine, or Gaza. They go to bed worried about basic survival, uncertain about tomorrow, or facing serious crisis. But here I am, with the beautiful privilege of thinking about planning my day choices.
My "boring" life, I've come to understand, is actually a remarkable blessing. The predictability I once questioned is now something I cherish. Each routine task - from the morning alarm to the evening bedtime - represents stability, security, and peace. The fact that I can expect tomorrow to be similar to today isn't a limitation; it's a gift.
In this world that can be so harsh and unpredictable, I've actually won life's lottery. My ordinary, consistent home life isn't boring at all - it's a sanctuary of peace that many people dream of having. And for that, I'm deeply grateful.
-Karthik Gurumurthy
You know how we often look at superstars like Joe Root consistently scoring centuries in Tests on the cricket field, Novak Djokovic dominating tennis, or Elon Musk revolutionizing industries, and think, "Man, they're just naturally gifted"? Well, here's the fascinating truth: it's not just about being born lucky or talented.
There was this brilliant researcher named Anders Ericsson who discovered something amazing - it typically takes about 10 years or 10,000 hours of what he called "deliberate practice" to become truly exceptional at something. Malcolm Gladwell actually wrote about this in his book "Outliers," showing how this pattern keeps popping up among top performers. Though it's not just about hitting that magic number - there are other factors too.
But here's why this is such great news: it means success isn't some exclusive club for the naturally gifted! Think about it - we're living in an age where we have more access to information than ever before. Our grandparents would have given anything for the resources we can access with just a few clicks!
Want to know what this "deliberate practice" looks like in real life? Take Michael Phelps' story - it'll blow your mind. While other swimmers were taking it easy after the Olympics, this guy was still grinding away in the pool. He pushed himself so hard in practice that his goggles would sometimes break! There's this amazing moment where his goggles filled with water during an Olympic race, but because he'd practiced so intensely - even in the worst conditions - he didn't panic. He just thought, "I've been here before," and kept swimming.
Or take Michael Jordan - instead of obsessing over what his competitors were doing, he focused on being so good that they had to worry about him! As his trainer Tim Grover put it, Jordan didn't study the competition - he made the competition study him.
The secret sauce? It's about consistently working on getting better at what matters most in your field. This could mean dedicating time each day to reading up on your industry, soaking up knowledge from podcasts, finding mentors who've been there and done that, getting those important certifications, and sharing what you learn with others. It's like building a muscle - you've got to keep at it regularly to see results.
Remember this: those moments of hard work when nobody's watching? That's what transforms you from good to great. As Phelps said, "It's what you do in the dark that brings you to light."
-Karthik Gurumurthy
I think about the masks we wear throughout our lives. It's not talking about physical masks, but the fake personas we put on without even realizing it. What is a mask after all? It is basically something we do out of compulsion to fit in when we feel threatened or uncomfortable. It's not something we consciously choose - it's this automatic behavior we slip into. Our past experiences color our perceptions in ways we don't even recognize because they're buried so deep in our subconscious.
As we grow up, we kept on collecting masks - from teachers, neighbors, comic book characters - until they had this whole repertoire of personas to slip into depending on the situation. Looking back, I realize these masks were all developed when they were immature, and now it feels "sickening and suffocating" because these automatic responses prevent us from being spontaneous and authentic.
It's like we're all actors on a stage, but behind the scenes, we're crying over the price we pay for wearing these masks. Once we are on a path to spiritual growth , I see us basically entering this "hall of mirrors" where you start seeing yourself reflected in everyone else. Instead of being separate, you realize you're connected to everyone. It's not about some other worldly thing - it's about discovering your true nature and seeing how you're just one reflection of something much bigger.
You're not a human having some occasional spiritual moments - you're actually a spiritual being having a temporary human experience.
When someone really grows spiritually, they become this natural channel for love - not the effortful, conditional kind, but the pure, childlike love that just flows. They see harmony beneath all the chaos and unity beneath all the separation.
It's such a contrast to those suffocating masks we wear - this is about becoming completely authentic by connecting to something much deeper than all our social personas.
-Karthik Gurumurthy
I've noticed how when I fixate on stuff that bothers me, I just stay bothered. And when I'm obsessing over problems, I'm too wrapped up in them to actually find solutions. The truth is, I'm only powerless when I decide to be. I always have the choice to look for something good, even in messy situations.
I'm starting to believe that my progress in life is directly related to how well I can let go of problems and move forward with a positive mindset. It's like my ability to release what's bothering me determines how far I can go.
Too often, I miss opportunities because I've convinced myself I'm trapped by circumstances I can't control. But that's not really true - I'm never actually stuck with my problems. Solutions are always within reach if I just let go enough to get some perspective on what's really happening.
My problems don't have to hold back my growth today. I can choose a different response.
-Karthik Gurumurthy
I find it interesting to see how relationships naturally evolve throughout our lives. Think about your own friendships growing up - those friends from high school might have been your whole world back then, but now you might just catch up maybe once a year.
There's also this natural ebb and flow with family relationships. Some people were super close with cousins as kids but drifted apart once they moved away as adults. Others managed to stay connected despite living thousands of miles apart. For the longest period of time, I tried my best to be connected with lot of my cousins even though it was mostly one-sided. Except for my cousin Chitra nobody from my family have attempted much to meet our family. Over time, I've shifted away from measuring others' investment in our relationship. I've gradually learned to create healthy space between myself and others, realizing that maintaining some distance isn't a sign of disconnection but rather of mature independence. I've come to appreciate that relationships don't require constant proximity or validation—it's perfectly acceptable, even necessary, to establish boundaries and honor our need for personal space.
What I found truly fascinating was how our interests and values evolve over time. During the pandemic, I genuinely missed social connections, but when in-person gatherings finally resumed, I noticed a striking disconnect. Many people behaved quite differently in real life compared to their social media personas. The disparity between online expression and actual behavior was jarring - revealing a broader disconnect that made me reconsider the authenticity of these relationships.
The problem isn't that relationships change - that's natural and inevitable. The issue comes when we don't adapt or when we cling to connections that have naturally run their course. Being resilient means having the flexibility to let some relationships evolve, some strengthen, and some gently fade while being open to new connections.
-Karthik Gurumurthy
I find myself returning to Judy Grahn's powerful words about the common woman being "as common as a thunderstorm" - that image of someone walking around quietly all day while containing electric, angry energy inside a passive form. In my daily life, I see this dynamic everywhere.
Last weekend, my wife Shobana showed remarkable restraint when faced with an unsolicited and inappropriate comment from a relative who, despite their misplaced sense of wisdom, felt entitled to lecture her about volunteering. Out of respect for his age, she chose not to respond, though the comment was entirely unwarranted. During my high school years, my mother displayed tremendous grace when a relative of ours who was visiting us made a disrespectful and completely unwarranted remark. Out of deference to his senior status in the family, she chose to maintain her dignity by not responding, though the comment was entirely inappropriate. The parent who calmly handles a child's tantrum in public while internally screaming. We've created a society that often rewards passive acceptance, particularly from women, while providing few healthy outlets for the legitimate anger that builds inside.
I've noticed how many people, including myself sometimes, walk around angry without even realizing it. How I'll nod pleasantly through uncomfortable situations at work, saving my true thoughts for the drive home. How I'll swallow my words when interrupted, the electricity of frustration buzzing just beneath my skin. How I've perfected the art of appearing calm while processing intense emotions. It's like, our jobs and daily life situations make us feel stuck and powerless, and that feeling of being trapped just makes us even angrier.
The Serenity Prayer has been super helpful for me - you know, the one about accepting what you can't change, finding courage to change what you can, and figuring out which is which. When I really take an honest look at my life, I'm often surprised by how many things I actually do have power to change, even when I feel stuck.
For the stuff I just can't change (or choose not to tackle right now), I'm learning that acceptance works way better than just spinning my wheels in anger that goes nowhere or, worse, turning that anger against myself. And it feels pretty amazing when I do gather up the courage to change the things within my control.
Today I'm trying to look at my anger differently - like it's something I'm choosing rather than something that's just happening to me. I'm wondering if my anger might actually be covering up some fears I haven't faced. Maybe if I figure out what those are, I can find better ways to deal with the real issues.
-Karthik Gurumurthy
I share in humanity's common nature, and what benefits one person contributes to the benefit of others as well.
I've come to understand that ecology—the study of how all life interconnects—extends beyond the physical world into our emotional realm. We've all met those emotional polluters, right? That relative who gossips about everyone quietly, the friend who's always the victim in their own story, or that family member who bullies everyone at gatherings. Nobody wants to hang around that energy!
Ironically, these individuals are often talented and sometimes hold positions of authority over others. But here's the thing – we're all connected. So maybe when I stay calm and don't take the bait when my super smart relative starts trash-talking people in their absence, I'm actually influencing them as much as they're trying to influence me. When I don't join in or react, I'm helping clean up our shared emotional space.
I've caught myself being "nice" in ways that actually make things worse. Like when I laugh awkwardly at my smarty relative's mean jokes just to keep the peace at family get-togethers, or when I listen to my friend rant about the same problems for hours without ever suggesting they might need to change something. My politeness isn't actually helping anyone there. I'm working on being genuine without enabling the toxic stuff. Instead of nodding along when someone starts gossiping, I can change the subject. If someone's wallowing in self-pity, I can offer real support instead of just sympathy. That's how I'll try to be truly helpful rather than just polite.
I've come to recognize that prioritizing my well-being sometimes means declining family gatherings rather than attending only to leave emotionally depleted. While social expectations often pressure us to participate regardless of personal cost, I now understand that establishing boundaries around environments that consistently diminish my spirit isn't selfish—it's necessary self-preservation. These occasional absences allow me to engage more authentically during the gatherings I do attend, rather than repeatedly exposing myself to dynamics that leave me feeling diminished or misunderstood.
Among our family members is a relative who consistently distances herself, perceiving our dynamic as harmful to her wellbeing. While we've developed a mutual desire for space, we find ourselves reluctantly reconnecting during mandatory family gatherings. These occasions create an unavoidable intersection of our separate paths, compelling interaction despite our shared preference for distance.
The situation places both parties in a delicate position of maintaining appearances while navigating unresolved tensions. Family obligations create a unique paradox where people who have consciously chosen separation must temporarily coexist in a shared space, often performing cordial exchanges that mask deeper disconnections. This creates an emotional labor for everyone involved—balancing family loyalty with authentic self-protection, honoring tradition while acknowledging the reality of strained relationships, and managing the subtle expectation that blood relations somehow override personal boundaries.
This complex dynamic reflects the challenging intersection between individual wellbeing and collective family identity, where neither complete separation nor genuine reconnection seems possible within the current framework of our relationship. While I've come to acknowledge the regrettable nature of this relationship, I'm gradually embracing acceptance as a form of wisdom rather than resignation. Some dynamics exist beyond our capacity to transform them, and recognizing this boundary has become an essential part of my emotional maturity. Instead of expending energy on what cannot be changed, I'm learning to redirect my focus toward relationships where mutual growth remains possible. My dad always used to say, "What cannot be cured must be endured" So be it.
My dad always used to quote, " What cannot be cured must be endured"
In magic and in life there is only the present moment, the now. We human being have enormous difficulty in focusing on the present; we’re always thinking about what we did, about the consequences of our actions, and why we didn’t act as we should have. Or else we think about the future, about what we are going to do tomorrow.
Past and future only exist in our mind. The present moment, though, is outside of, its eternity.
It is not what you did in the past that will affect the present.
It’s what you do in the present that will redeem the past and thereby change the future.
Our life is a constant journey, from the birth to death. The landscape changes, the people change, our need change, but the train keeps moving. Life is the train, not the station.
Understand what is going on inside you and you will understand what is going on inside everyone else.
Anyone truly committed to life never stops walking.
Bless and you will be blessed.
The knowledge that the willpower and courage are not the same thing. Courage can attract fear and adulation, but willpower requires patience and commitment.
We always tend to value what comes from the afar, never recognizing the beauty around us.
Routine has nothing to do with repetition. To become really good at anything, you have to practice and repeat, practice and repeat, until the technique becomes intuitive.
What cannot be cured must be endured.
What hurts us is what heals us.
Don’t think what you’ll people afterward. The time is here and now. Make the most of it.
If you want to see a rainbow you have to learn to like the rain.
Tears are the blood of the soul.
Love can save everything.
Place all your feelings outside yourself and you will be renewed.
Expand your energies you will remain young.