Questioning Beliefs - Our Inner Stock Market !!

Just as the stock market rises and falls in response to what people are willing to put their money behind, we have inside ourselves an inner economy that rises and falls in response to our beliefs about what is possible. Sometimes the degree to which we are willing to challenge our belief systems determines the success of our inner economy. For example, imagine that your family of origin had a belief that musical talent was not something they possessed. As a member of that group, you would likely inherit that same belief about yourself. As a result, even if you had a great desire to create music, you might be hesitant to really get behind yourself, fearing that your investment would not pay off. Even if you had the courage to follow your passion, your inner belief that you are not inherently talented would probably be a major obstacle to investing your energy in your dream.

On the other hand, if you found a way to release that negative belief, a great flood of energy would pour forth, greatly increasing the likelihood of your success. How much energy we are willing to invest in the various ideas, dreams, and visions we carry within is like the money people are, or are not, willing to invest in the various commodities available for trade on the stock market. And in both cases, belief plays a key role in determining how willing we are to get behind something. One way to open up the possibility for greater success in our inner economies is to understand that belief is not the reliable guide we sometimes think. There are other more reliable indicators of success that we can put our faith in, such as passion, gut instinct, and intuition. Some of the most successful investors in the stock market are the ones that go against the grain, trusting their instincts over the prevailing opinion about what will work.

In the same way, we can learn to trust our heart's desires and our instincts to guide us, questioning any beliefs that stand in the way of our ability to fully invest in ourselves. As we withdraw energy from limiting ideas about what is possible, we free up the resources that have the power to make our inner economy thrive.

Meeting Of The Minds - Fragments Of The Self

Sometimes it feels as if we have many different people living inside of us, expressing themselves in voices that seem distinct from one another. There is the inner child with its wants and needs, the angry voice that expresses its opinion and probably several more as well. With all these different parts of ourselves express differing desires and needs and opinions, we may begin to feel as if we have no clarity. It is difficult to know which voices to pay attention to and which ones to ignore or dismiss. Even if we manage to move forward amidst the confusion, doubts and concerns may linger in our psyches simply because they have not been fully expressed and examined. As a result, we may have trouble being at peace with the decisions we do make.

One way to handle this dilemma is to consciously make time for a meeting of the minds within our psyche. This can be done as a guided meditation or as a journaling exercise. In both we can summon the many fragments that make up the whole of who we are and give them each a chance to speak. This can be a helpful tool in the face of a decision we need to make, and it can also be a fruitful path to take in the interest of self-exploration and self-care. When we gather the many fragments of our psyche together, the health and power of the whole is greatly increased.

We can imagine a roundtable in which we gather all the various representatives of our being, allowing them to name themselves and giving them a chance to speak. We allow each one to weigh in, fully expressing the perspective they represent, and we listen without comment. As we listen, we may be amazed at the wisdom and energy stored in these fragments of our self. This gathering brings the fragmented pieces of our psyche into a closer relationship, enabling us to move forward as a unified whole.

Building a wall over a slice of cake and a cup of coffee

My aunt was born and brought up in Kanpur. Her mother was one of the first female ticket collectors with the Northern Railways. after my aunt's marriage, they settled in Delhi. Two and a ahalf decades later, I came to the national capital to complete my higher studies. My aunt helped me a lot in the new city. During our weekend talks, she told me how Delhi has changed over the years. It has become extremely populated and congested.

Over a slice of cake and a cup of coffee, she would tell me how 'Delhities' are pained when 'outsiders' take their jobs away. She even suggested that a wall be built around the national capital to stop 'outsiders' from pouring i n.....

Umar was born and brought up in kargil. His father was a weaver. Umar did not want to stay in kargil. The conflict had ruined his life. He had lost his friends and relatives in the war of terrorism. He wanted to go somewhere more peaceful. He wanted to go to Delhi. He never expected his father to agree. But his mother consented. He came to Delhi and joined a local university. Between studies and friends, a beautiful girl fell in love with him...

Esther is a usual twenty-two year old girl. She works as an executive with one of the leading BPO's in Gurgaon. She works hard to support herself and her family in Manipur. The AFSPA(1958) turned her world topsy-turvy. Her elder brother was picked up for questioning. He never came home----Esther's aunt was raped....so her father decided to send her to a safer place,Delhi.....

Raghopur is the only constituency of the former chief Minister of Bihar, Rabri Devi. Mahendra Mahto was born and brought up in Bihar,Raghopur. When the world was celebrating the coming of a new yaer, his pregnant aunt and five cousins were burnt to death. The Chief Minister announced a compensation of a sum of two lacs to the next kin of the dead and twenty thousand rupees were promised for the injured. Mahendra was the only known relative. The District Magistrate hand over a cheque of twenty thousand rupees, with a promise to pay him two lacs later. A loan of five thousand was paid off to the local moneylender. The hospital doctor demanded a 'donation',Mahendra gave him two thousand rupees. The head constable wanted some thing for 'chai-pani'. So Mahendra paid him another thousand. After losing eight thousand rupees in one week Mahendra decided to leave Raghopur as soon as possible. His friend Bansi Yadav, who was an auto rickshaw driver in Delhi had told him about its plying roads. Today, Mahendra lives in Delhi, he could never buy an auto-rickshaw, but he does pull a hired cycle-rickshaw there, enabling him to earn three-four thousand rupees a month.

It has been more than three years since I left Dhanbad, my hometown. I returned only thrice. Rest of the time, I have tried to become a 'Delhitie'. I have my plans- I want to work for a Multinational Company. And my children will never be called 'outsiders'. Over a slice of cake and cup of coffee, I wonder whether having built a wall around Delhi would have been worthwhile or not!

A Hundred-Rupee Note

It was a hot noon in July. I had risen from my illness and so decided to go for a shave. The barber wasn't too busy and so immediately I occupied the place. In the mean time, a dark woman of around twenty-five entered the saloon. She was perhaps a begger.
To my surprise, the barber was exceptionally quick in doing his job after that woman arrived and both of them were having a fine conversation with each other. After I paid him, the barber made a nod asking me to move out. His expression made me suspicious but having no other option, I moved out. I had hardly stepped out when the shutter behind me came scratching down. I knew that we people were in isolation on the other side of the shutter and this made a chill run down my spine. My heart snak and I stood frozen, then came the cry, that of a groaning misery - perhaps helplessness...

The shutter reopened after a few minutes. The woman slipped out, her eyes wet with submission. I steamed thinking that why had she agreed for this disgraceful act. Then, I saw a hundred rupee note clutched in her hand and I instantly knew that she was drenched in the misery of harsh conditions. I was left dumb seeing her helpless eyes and creeping feet. I too moved away, for I could not do anything.

Me, Reshma

"Aye hero,give me ten rupees,"I said clapping and tickled the young man lying on the top berth of the train. ""Chi...chi...go away," he reported. I went closer to him and started pulling his cheeks. There was pin-drop silence in the compartment as everybody looked scared. The boy handed over a ten-rupee note to me and pulled himself together again. As I left the compartment clapping and singing a popular number, I heard suppressed giggles.

My tears had dried up, not a drop fell from my eyes and I started tugging and nudging people in the next compartment. Dressed in an orange salwar-kameez with a wig tied to my hair and lots of low-quality make-up applied on my face, I chewed a paan, I was aware of the fact that as I moved from one boggie to another, I stood as a complete entertainment package for on-lookers. The saddest part was that the people who made me the butt of many of their jokes very well knew that I was not responsible for my present predicament. I was so because God made me thus. Sadhus, handicaps, children, old people..all collected a few coins playing on the emotional frequency of the people but when I spread my hands before people, all their sympathies evaporated and I was made to realize what I was.

As I moved to the next bogie, Tikli called out to me,"Reshma, ours is the next stop." "Oh! Yes..." Today we had to get down early as we had to attend a birth ceremony. A bigbusinessman had begotten a son after daughters, so he wanted us to come and bless his son. Needless to say, we would dance for the guests' pleasure and we would be given food and money in return.

That night, as we returned to our kholi for the first time in my twenty-seven year old life, I felt a terrible pain. I went to Lalita Devi, he leader of our group but my beloved 'Amma' and rested my head on her lap. She had brought me from South-India after my parents handed over to her since then she had been my mother, my friend, my beloved, my everyhing. "Amma, why did my parents leave me?", I asked wryly. "How many times will you ask this question?" She sounded irritated. "I want to know Amma, how could they abandon me for a fault I did not commit. I saw the parents of the child today at the ceremony, they loved him so much. Didn't my parents love me? Why do people laugh at me? Why can't we live like normal human beings? Why aren't we given jobs? Why do we to beg? Why can't we go to schools and colleges? Can't I love someone? I want to breathe freely Amma, I want to breathe freely."

My throat was choking and I couldn't speak any further. All I could feel was Amma's tears dropping on my face.