Today, 97 years ago he was just a few days old. But this morning at 3am he passed away.

We had to take him to the Hospice at Bellevue two days ago, when his situation began deteriorating. The first night when I visited, he was semi-conscious but restless. Last night he was on medication to make him comfortable, and resting peacefully.

I hope he went peacefully.

He was A-ok in his favorite spot on the couch

Unfortunately, I cannot say he lived peacefully. He was like the Colonel of Kvetching. But at least now I can say say that whenever I complain, he lives on. That is quite a legacy, considering that I have inherited my fair share of complaints.

No doubt, he had a difficult time growing up during the depression. I’ve written about that before on this blog.

He used to write me poems in French. I wish I still had them, as proof that he could be tender-hearted. I was always scared he would shoot off a criticism, which was so second nature to him that he would barely bat an eyelash.

He was a veteran traveler and spoke several languages. He grew up speaking Yiddish so could get by in German. My grandparents spent much of their later years in Baden Baden, Germany. He spoke Italian and shared stories about their adventures in Florence. He saw much of the world while in the Navy. He hitched rides on freight trains.

He was a gourmand to the fullest, and it was rare when things were up to his mark. But I will surely relish my food in his honor.

He had more than three closets full of clothes; he spared no indulgence when it came to designer fashion. Although I was headed in that direction, my detour in India somewhat curtailed my clothing cravings to a certain extent. But I should surely enjoy shopping in New York more for him, since I’ve come to see it more as a chore.

And, I will always think of him and my grandmother when I listen to classical music, which they had playing most of the time.

Grandpa's 97th on Sunday

6pm Ritual Dinner at Forest Hills, 2010

with grandkids, 2008

Now it’s up to us to create the Fenster family of the future!

Most of us know the familiar tale that we came out of Africa, but do we really understand what this means? This means that all of our so-called differences are superficial, and we are more alike than not. I recently watched the above National Geographic show on The Human Family Tree, and was amused to see it was based in my diverse neighborhood of New York: Astoria. I moved here after spending nearly five years in India, where my husband is from. The show traces the common ancestry of those participating in the genetic experiment, and explains the different migration patterns of groups as they left Africa.

Throughout my own life journey I have had plenty of migrations and have spent lots of time exploring questions of culture and belonging. I am constantly struck by the irony that despite being surrounded by crowds, it’s very easy to drown in a sense of separation. Without knowing many people in a new place, I have searched for a community in which I can belong.

On the surface, we are all unique. Yet rather than cherish our individuality, we constantly strive to fit in to our perception of what is socially desirable. We need the validation of others. Rarely do we relish our innate qualities.

Dig a little deeper though, and there is not too much that distinguishes us from each other. From the cellular or genetic level, to the more metaphysical level of thoughts and emotions, we are all humans.

Why is this so hard to see sometimes?

I also wrote a guest post on this blog called Lesson 127: We are All Connected (But Who am I?).

2011 New Year in Varanasi

We spent last New Year’s in the holy city of Varanasi, India with a friend from college and his friend. It was truly a magical way to welcome 2011–we got a fire ceremony/puja at one of the most powerful temples in India called Kashi Vishwanath, as well as rooftop fireworks from the hotel next door!

After returning, I completed a consultancy with Jaipur Rugs Foundation. It was one of my first professional projects after being a full-time volunteer, and they put their trust in me although I had little in myself. I explored new territory of rural Rajasthan while learning about how the organization operated and made suggestions for improvements in communications.

After expressing interest in launching NetSquared in Jaipur, I was invited to attend the TechSoup Global Contributors’ Summit in Santa Clara, California in February. It was a total game-changer for me. Not only did I get to meet great people that I had admired online for years, like Beth Kanter and Peggy Duvette, but it provided me the inspiration and motivation to finally make a leap and decide to return to the US. I was able to develop those relationships further and make contributions to the work they are doing.

The spring and summer went by in a blurry dream. Or should I say the summer and summer. In Jaipur, it started getting hot in March. It was hard to believe we’d finally be going to the US! Fittingly, I attended an International Organization of Migration conference locally. I started organizing meetings for NetSquared Jaipur. And updating my resume for job-hunting in the US.

We had a lot of preparations to make. I started packing two months early, so excited was I. By May we just had one month left to go, and my husband finally decided he’d come on the same flight. Up until that point, he thought he might go later. So once again we were rushing to get everything done, especially with the bank accounts. I went to the Isha Yoga Center to have one last look, enjoyed myself but got terribly ill and barely made it back in one piece. It was a good reminder of why I wanted to return to the US, as if I needed another one…

For us, the new year started back in June. New country, new rules. Learning how to play the game in New York city, or at least pretending. Had one apartment, then moved to another before the hurricane struck. Submitted my husband’s immigration paperwork. Went to Mashable’s Social Good Summit finally, which I’d longed to attend since the year before. Had an internship in the fall and a couple interesting consulting projects which followed.

Instead of a New Year’s post, this actually feels like one for Thanksgiving. I have so much to be grateful for! Even though I sometimes feel like things are not working out, looking back helps me to see that actually I have gotten or achieved most of what I wanted. And while it has taken time to adjust to my new surroundings, slowly I’m getting the hang of being here.

“Desire, ask, believe, receive.” –Stella Terrill Mann

This summer my aunt said to me, “You’re almost 30. You should know how to clean a shower curtain.” Funnily enough, I missed that lesson in the manual of life.

Most days, I still feel like an ignorant kid. But when I was younger, I had more confidence. I was sure I’d amount to something great, like a famous politician. But once college came around, so did the questioning of many systems, including the political and legal ones, as well as society, ideology, gender… In short, I became confused. Which I have remained to this day.

If that means I still don’t know how to clean a shower curtain, then so be it. I’m busy living my life the best way I know how. And only I can live it!

She was the daughter of a prominent scholar, and so well-educated that she was pretty much deemed unmarriable. This didn’t bother her, because she had such a mind of her own that she didn’t even want to get married. She did marry though, albeit later in life, and she had quite a career in court serving with the Empress. Despite the prestige, she found the lifestyle superficial and stifling, and once her daughter was old enough to be well-settled in court, Murasaki chose to live a spiritual life near a monastery.

I found this account so touching that I felt as though I were there. The details of daily life were portrayed with the utmost attention; the colors of fabrics and flowers played a prominent role in the book. I suppose I have come to view melancholy as a purely modern affliction, but it’s obvious through her poems that, even in the 11th century, Murasaki experienced profound sadness. That time period must have also been the height of Buddhism’s spread in Japan, and turning to spiritual life was common, if not the norm. Yet it is no coincidence that Buddhism is seeing a resurgence now. People are becoming ever increasingly disillusioned with the world, and seeking answers to the pesky questions that our culture cannot seem to answer with to any satisfaction.

1. There’s no going back.  While I had secretly hoped the transition would be smooth and I’d jump back into the mainstream (was I ever even there?), that obviously hasn’t been the case. Even though part of me resisted returning for so long, somehow I thought that I’d resume being my old self once back in familiar territory. A lot has changed in that space of nearly eight years that I was living abroad. It’s more than just that my horizons have broadened; my perspective on life has been dramatically altered. I naively thought I might be able to pick up right where I left off when I’d left the US. I’m more aware of aspects of my former self that haunt me and it’s like I’ve entered a perpetual time warp. I’m struck by the high schooler inside me, and the nostalgic nagging of ancient memories. It’s like a nonstop exercise in taming the “lizard brain.”

2. Nothing is normal. Although I want to get back to some normalcy and stability, I’m also starkly aware that those concepts are pretty irrelevant to my life, which refuses to conform to some standards that I’ve set for it. What is normal is relative, and depends from person to person. Yet, when living in India, I was constantly struck by things that were way too different for my personal set of likes and dislikes.

3. Bumps in the road are not just part of life, they are life. We have a very strong belief that someday, life will go smoothly and everything will be just right. Even if things do eventually work out, the process is usually messy. The more I realize this, the less I struggle against how things are now. For example, the picture below was taken in late August, when we sent off some of my husband’s documentation. We were prematurely  joyous, since there have been delays and we’re still waiting for his papers. They should be arriving soon, though.

4. Get out and meet people. When I first arrived, I was constantly running around to different meetups. This has slowed down somewhat, but it was a good way to force myself to get back out into the social scene and to hear about what was going on. I learned about a lot of interesting new projects and got inspired. I’m also looking for more sustainable, long-term means of interaction in my local neighborhood though. I recently attended a local writer’s group and am trying to help organize another meeting. Although the timing is pretty bad I’m still interested in the community garden which I totally spaced on during the warmer months.

5. Stay in and hibernate. In this city of bright lights, it’s easy to get overwhelmed by the hustle bustle and huge skyscrapers towering overhead. I actually overheard a tourist in a restaurant bathroom say that she felt nauseated by the constant, overstimulating sensory onslaught. Yes, it can be exhilarating and thrilling, but also tiring after a time. Everything in moderation: it’s good to be out, but so is having quiet time at home, too.

6. Laugh and love. Partially because I was running out of ideas, and because I badly need the reminder! When it all begins to feel overwhelming, it’s a good sign that I’m taking things too seriously. Some hugs and some laughs are the perfect antidote. Trite, but true.

On Saturday I watched the above National Geographic show on The Human Family Tree. I was pleasantly amused to see it was based in my diverse neighborhood of Queens: Astoria. If you ever need a reminder of how we are all one, you should definitely watch it!

Seeing the progression of human migrations in the video, I was reminded how humans have evolved as a part of a larger group and as inseparable from the environment. Now, however, we find ourselves removed from the whole in many ways and living lives devoid of meaning and purpose.

Thanks to a tweet I came across about the idea of “data smog” leading to depression, I’ve also just started reading Spontaneous Happiness by Dr Weil, and was struck by his main idea that modern lifestyles are the leading cause of depression. It may not be his unique idea, nor anything new, but it helps to remind ourselves how foreign our lives are to the way we have evolved over thousands of years.

He says, “Our lives in the developed world have largely gone from hard and generally content to easy and often depressed.” He also delves into the flaws of the existing biomedical model of mental health, and how pharmaceutical companies basically created a market for themselves. I find it really interesting & hope to share more as I go through it…

Funnily enough, I also happen to like sci-fi and technology so also watched a documentary called “Transcendent Man” about an inventor, Ray Kurzweil, who has many crazy predictions about the future of artificial intelligence and human evolution. Given our tricky relationship with technology, though, I disagree that things will proceed as smoothly as he claims, where we will become infused with bots to keep us healthy and immortal.

One interesting point raised in the film that I would be more likely to agree with is that there will be a group of humans who will worship technology, specifically the god-like artificial intelligence which will be much smarter than us. The problem I foresee is that intelligence is much more complicated than simple logic; the idea of emotional intelligence is gaining traction. But what about other, traditional wisdom that isn’t currently recognized by the mainstream?

Yes, I’ve been taking advantage of Netflix streaming: I also recently watched the Steven Hawking “Into the Universe” series, and the Star Wars movie!

My main impressions of the entire experience can be summed up as the following:

• I feel very badly for the store employees, whose holidays and sleep cycles are interrupted. More than that, their sleep deprivation seemed to cause several pricing and other errors–the cashier didn’t put my paid item in my bag and we had to fetch it the next day!
• I was afraid of how others might behave, pushing and fighting, but actually I surprised myself at how badly I behaved. Feeling rushed, I was more short-tempered with my husband and when I couldn’t find him on a couple of instances I almost began to panic.
• The aftermath was not pretty, and it took me a while to unwind and get out of a quick grab mindset, where I was mulling over whether or not my purchases were worthwhile. My husband and I also spent quite some time discussing the financial impact as we hadn’t previously set a budget.
• I found myself comparing the day to the shopping spree game shows I’d seen as a child. Rather than being like a dream come true, I wasn’t fully able to enjoy the thrill, and was more fatigued than anything.

The whole thing went by in a blur, the rush of extreme accumulation. I thought I had set my alarm for 5:45am, but when I woke up at 7:15 I scurried out of bed, roused my husband and off we rushed with our packed lunch Thanksgiving leftovers. We had carefully plotted out our itinerary the day before, along with our intended shopping list, but I tried to remind my husband that in such situations of 60% discounts, detours from both were not only ok, but highly desirable. Unfortunately, our detour cost us time, the most precious commodity of the day, and we missed a 40% discount by only 30 minutes–in fact, we’d arrived in the store just as it was ending.

I realized that I’d probably interacted with more people that day than I have in the past month. Actually, it seems like shopping is one of the only socially acceptable ways to speak to strangers. That’s one of the reasons that farmer’s markets are such a lovely way to meet your community and connect with your food source.

Which brings me to my last thought: that somewhere rooted deeply inside this ritualized shopping extravaganza is a desire to connect and feel more than our little selves. Sadly, accumulation is not a panacea to our feelings of inadequacy.

 Behance’s 99% blog shares “8 Counter-Intuitive Ways to Improve Your Well-Being & Creativity.“ As if we didn’t know it already, they remind us that sadness is a prime catalyst for creativity, though I would also argue it’s probably the main reason that creative ideas don’t come to fruition. After writing my last post on feeling like an outsider, my mom sent me something on “The Upside of Being an Outsider.” It’s interesting how Lisa explains that these feelings often begin in childhood, asking the so-called deep questions and pondering life’s big mysteries, while most kids are riding their bikes, blissfully unaware.

On the Harvard Business Review Blog, Tony Schwartz explains ”How to Think Creatively,” which to me conjures amusing imagery of CEOs in gray suits doing modern dance to a prompt like “feel the space around you.” Nonetheless, he presents (quite logically) the stages of creative thinking–slightly removing the sexiness from any ideas you may have about the creative process.

But I quite prefer Oriah Mountain Dreamer’s deep exploration of the creative process, where she shows that it’s not all that one imagines it to be. I was particularly struck when I realized that even hit songs don’t just magically appear, and that master artists and writers hone their skills through relentless activity. I guess the “practice makes perfect” lesson is only just beginning to hit me.

Everything seems to take more thought, more calculation. From doing the laundry to travelling by train to shopping for groceries. Finding the right words and expressions for things. Trying to learn the ropes of how to do this thing called life in my native country.

Wondering if I will ever feel settled, or if there even is such a thing as feeling settled, and if there is, is it even desirable? Should I continue to buy into the illusion that at one point, everything will be all right? Or just throw away all preconceived notions about how life “should” be and roll with it? Why is that so difficult?