Finding My Zen During Quarantine

Bhadhra Raghunath
3 min readApr 13, 2020
Image credits: https://www.instagram.com/rohilnair/

I’ve been quarantined. As an introvert who’s dealt with anxiety issues for years, there’s nothing new to see here. Nothing new to do, except recover.

Recover from what?

Everything that’s made me feel like this quarantine is just an extended vacation. Every emotional blocker, every conscious thought that remains suppressed, too big and too scary to be brought into the light, to be made sense of.

And how to recover?

Learn and unlearn. Learn new things. Happiness’s in particular. There was a time when I would have scoffed at the very thought of being significantly happy. Having been creative in some form or the other since childhood, although never having had the nerves to admit it, I always associated creativity with a certain amount of anxiety and unhappiness. To my mind, the two were inseparable. Not just the inevitable, but something meant to be held on to, something meant to be treasured and romanticized. Given the choice between leading a healthy, happy life and leaving my scarred, shattered name on the face of the World, I would have chosen the latter. Every. Single. Time.

So then, what changed for me? What continues to change me?

Life. Life outside of the books I’ve loved for years, but never lived.

Life in its entirety. Living in the present. The sheer beauty of which I haven’t even begun to fathom, but am now honoured to have the smallest understanding of. The simple, but profound wisdom that must be the cornerstone of every artist’s life, which is that creativity, is not a product of melancholy; creativity is something that happens in spite of it. Creativity is living in and celebrating the moment. Creativity is overcoming. Creativity is joy, purpose and fulfillment. This is what I am learning. And one day, this, in its entirety, I shall have learnt.

Then there’s the flip-side of my little coin. The things I have to unlearn. What are they? Past prejudices. Present insecurities. Future anxieties. This process isn’t something I could master in days, weeks or months. It’s the achievement of a lifetime. The trick is to never keep stopping. Never stop trying. It is to recover, to spring back up; every moment, every second you falter. And in those moments and seconds that you accumulate over a lifetime, will lay your strength. Therein will lie your lessons.

Now that we’ve made this clear, let’s address the pertinent question, which is the whole point behind my writing this in the first place. I’m quarantined. Days and weeks lie past me and days and weeks lay ahead of me.

What shall I do? What shall I do that simultaneously supports my learning and unlearning? How shall I spend my time?

I shall leave out water bowls for the birds, to drink their fill in this sweltering heat and I shall change them faithfully every two days. I shall wake up in the mornings and see pink skies. I shall water the plants and sprinkle small droplets over their leaves to give them that added relief. I shall exercise till I breathe out sweat and I shall find solace in the tiny patch of outdoors granted to me.

I shall re-watch movies that were old favourites and sleep away to lovely music. I shall read comics, dry herbs, tell stories, donate to the needy and celebrate digital birthdays.

I shall practice everything that matters, everything that needs to be done and everything that is in the present moment. And perhaps, most importantly, I shall have comforting and soothing conversations with the people who need it the most now. I shall extend a helping hand to the ones who are confused or troubled or simply need help proofreading a piece. I shall help people find their consolation, while I learn how to find my own.

Because, and this is the truest thing I know; happiness, real happiness lies in being able to assist where it is most needed. To bring a smile to a face that hasn’t seen it in ages. To help an exhausted hand. To say one word of reassurance.

And the kicker here is that you’ll always be able to do it. In the middle of a flood, in a burst of sunshine, amidst a lock down or a prospective end of the world. As you should.

--

--

Bhadhra Raghunath

“I’d always thought her half-baked, but now I think they didn’t even put her in the oven.” — P.G. Wodehouse