Srishti Kumari

Tag: emotional baggage

  • Is Time Really The Greatest Healer?

    I don’t think so.

    Photo by Cristhian Benitez on Unsplash

    I know it sounds different from what you have heard, but I genuinely think about this sometimes.

    People say that time is the greatest healer. That time heals everything. But, is it really so? Does time really heal everything? Today, I feel it’s not the complete truth. I feel it’s not only about time, but it’s more about us. It’s more about us with time.

    Time can only heal us if we are ready to accept in the first place that we are wounded and we need to heal our wounds. That we can’t carry the trauma of our past wounds to our future selves.

    The acknowledgement of pain, the acceptance of prolonged sadness, and the decision to break the vicious cycle of ruminating over our past, coupled with a good amount of time, surely can heal us. Time alone can’t do much, I feel. The onus is also on us. On you and me.

    I have seen people in their thirties and forties having grudges against their parents. Yes, their emotions can be valid. But for how long are we adults going to behave like giant children and complain about all the bad and terrible experiences we have had with our parents and in our families? For how long? Till the 50s? Till the 60s? Till the 70s? or till 100? Because time alone won’t heal us unless we are ready to forgive and let go of the baggage we have been carrying for years.

    We are not going to become the enlightened ones in our 60s or 70s one day. No, it’s not gonna happen. I have seen even people in their late sixties who still have a few unresolved fights in their hearts with their late parents, and somehow, they never got the chance to heal themselves.

    It’s unfortunate, but true! Are we going to repeat the same cycle? Or will we break this cycle? The decision is ours. Sure, time is with us today to help us. But we can’t get away without doing our part.

    We have to take the responsibility to heal ourselves. Time can only help us a lot, not heal us on its own.

    Well, this is what I think sometimes. What do you think?

    Tell me.

  • The Relatability You Feel In Stories

    They make you feel seen and heard every time

    Photo by Priscilla Du Preez 🇨🇦 on Unsplash

    You know, whenever you read someone’s story — be it on their blog, their linkedin post, the instagram story, or anywhere, and you feel a part of you being described there, that feeling of connection and relatability makes you feel valid for your actions, feelings and emotions you were finding to get from people around you, is my friend a miracle in today’s life.

    Miracle, because everything — when you see someone succeeding, someone going gym every day, someone waking up at 5:00 am consistently, someone running marathons, someone earning in crores, and someone always looking so pretty and aesthetic, you deeply feel so behind, alone, isolated, and bad for yourself every day.

    Perfect pictures are for performative goals. They are perfect online because they can’t afford to be seen as anything less than that. Those perfect pictures from perfect angles are actually trying to hide many blemishes, dark spots, and unevenness that everyday life throws at us.

    And poor us! We believe in the perfectly captured, edited, filtered, and carefully curated corners of someone’s grid, as it is the reality of life.

    The reality is, humanness comes with a lot of insecurities, confusion, failures, tiredness, hopelessness, slow days, mood swings, low periods, edgy feelings, anxiety, stress, and nerve-wracking, vulnerable moments as well. And that, my friend, is not pretty and aesthetic. That is bad, ugly, cruel, silly, confused, sad, with a generous amount of existential crisis. And we feel like we are alone.

    No, we are not. We are not alone. Yes, a 10-step skincare routine may have a million views online, but you also have the stories where people openly share about their bad skin days.

    When someone shares their raw, real, personal, mostly unpopular, and normal stories of spending weekends at home, Netflixing, reading, gardening, and living through the days instead of performing, I feel more connected to those stories naturally.

    And I think that is what connection requires. Simple truth. Simple ways. Simple acts. Everyday life. Mundane days. Fleeting moments. Us. And our stories.

    There is a strange connectedness in everyday stories of people you are not connected to in any way. And maybe that’s a shared connection we possess as humans.

    So simple, so subtle, so powerful.