Dear Friend,
This is the new fully fleshed-out set of contemplations based on my time in London till date. I've broken it up into three sections: the city, my work, and reflections on being a young person at this time. It is long, and I feel narcissistic for thinking that this is an acceptable email (rather than an article or book haha). I'm sending it all, because I benefitted from writing it, and there were threads in each of the paragraphs that I thought you might find interesting. You are under no obligation to read it all or within any particular window of time. Just whatever piques your interest.
The City:
London is a city that does not hide its historical and cultural importance! So far, I have ventured out to Camden, Notting Hill and Portobello Market, Soho, Chinatown, Covent Garden, Primrose Hill, and Westminster. All of these places feel like a feast for your senses: so much to learn, see, hear, and taste. The last sense especially—London's a dream for people who love food (ME!), barring the cost and dreadful conversion rate for Canadian credit cards.
Compared to North America's proportional cities, London strikes me for being less isolating. I saw people rejoicing together for major sporting events, the elections, and any day graced without depressing weather. Afternoon tea breaks provide further opportunities for people to check in and affirm one another's existence. I'm not much of a drinker, but the pub culture also contributes to building community: local pubs become third places where people become regulars, instead of otherwise being engulfed in the city's vastness. I loved going out to pubs for both England football games—feeding from the crowd's energy during those nerve-racking last-minute victories!!
Weirdly enough, when I transit through King's Cross station every day for my commute into work, I feel like I have made it. Britain, and by extension London, occupies a complicated place in the Indian imaginary. On the one hand, the British subjugated my people and stole our riches. On the other hand, they positioned themselves as being the pinnacle of culture, replete with poise and nobility. That view has partly stuck around in India, because so much of our modern and social architecture bears British influence. Indeed, my grandfather spoke very formal British English, and I imagine that he would be very proud of me for arriving at the epicenter of culture, in his colonized eyes. I am intrigued, as much annoyed, by our twisted way of admiring the British.
The Work:
I feel incredibly lucky to be working at this mental health charity! Since arriving, I participated in several of their programs including communal gardening, music, art, yoga, and peer support. They also offer counseling and befriending services. The participants attending these events are combating some kind of mental health condition, and they are typically referred to the charity by GPs or other social workers. It's so inspiring to witness the participants attend the groups, find friends, and source greater strength in managing their conditions.
One of the gardening groups takes place at the London Zoo! The communal garden is open for visitors to pick fresh fruits and vegetables from; the remaining produce gets used to feed the animals (did you know that Giraffes love basil??). Attending this program felt especially surreal. Something about the London Zoo felt foreign enough to remind me that I am just a 19-yr-old girl from a city in South India. Things have changed quickly in the last decade, but it's mind-boggling to know that, when I was born, not a single person would have ever foreseen me watering figs, kale, and strawberries at the London Zoo, all while advocating for mental health.
Running my meditation workshop has been formative. There's so much to plan, and you never quite know how your ideas will land with a group of participants, each sitting with unique life experiences. Thankfully, I've designed a program that's resonant with my personality and ways of understanding. So, when speaking about meditative principles and practices, the words have tended to flow right out of me.
My first two weeks have become evidence for the therapeutic power of grassroots work. The power here does not come from scale, but the depth of impact. The volunteers running the gardening and music groups were once attendees of this charity's programs, having diligently worked for three years to gain control over their encounters with depression and schizophrenia respectively. Grassroots actors brought therapeutic outlets to their doorsteps, and this enabled them to evolve into upstanders for others' well-being.
Academics and student activists can often work themselves into echo chambers, bickering endlessly about terminology and minor details. They can grow far-removed from the people that they are hoping to help with their ideas. Grassroots actors are crucial in bringing ideas outside of university circles. This is not as easy of a hurdle as either the academics, activists, or I envision. The charity here has limited funding; participants can say unsavory things; and the group leaders frequently have to manually phone up participants to attend, because many participants are in no position to schedule their time. The work can at times feels cumbersome and unromantic, but it is potent in allowing people to locate the agency and courage to pursue self-improvement.
Being a Young Person at This Hour:
I promise that this section's sub-heading is not designed to taunt you about your age. My two-week review simply felt incomplete without also mentioning the anxieties I experience in finding a vocation at this point in history. For me and many of my peers, the uncertainty of what comes next feels especially scary. Our prospects look bleak for several reasons: rusty political systems unequipped to handle global issues, an ever-competitive job market, and harmful social norms damaging our psycho-social health. Such bleakness weighs me down, and I am sometimes left brooding over whether I am in the right place, making use of my finite time properly. For instance, is there any point in me creating a new meditation program, when there are thousands more resources and experienced authorities out there?
Luckily, Oliver Burkeman and all the wonderful people that I have met in these two weeks have inspired me to adopt an alternative view: perhaps the world feels so scary and hopeless, because we try to consume all of it within a single breath. It may be saner and humane for us to take it in at the community level. My work feels justified, because for THE SPECIFIC participants that show up to my class, I am their primary inlet into meditation. Thus, for the weeks that remain, I strive to be immersed in the magic unfolding in front of me.