Advice from Your Nepalese Auntie
Boys and girls, ladies and germs, gather round for Auntie Keely has a story to tell.
Yes, Auntie Keely. For the next four minutes (or however long it takes you to read this), I ask you to please picture me as your Nepalese auntie.
Why Nepalese? Because of my friend Sneh. According to her, a Nepalese auntie brooks no bullshit (name the show) and that’s the attitude I need to channel at the moment. So imagine that I’ve handed you a nice warm cup of chai (you WILL enjoy it) and I’ve asked you how you’re doing.
Let’s continue to imagine, for the sake of storytelling, that you tell me the truth. You don’t give me a polite, “I’m fine, auntie, how are you?” You take a sip, then open up.
“Something’s off, auntie.” You might say, if you’re feeling how a lot of people in my life are currently feeling (me included, when I’m not in the role of Nepalese auntie, that is). “I’m struggling to access my joy. I’m feeling downtrodden. The ups and downs of daily life are hitting me harder than normal.”
“My resilience is low,” you might continue, if you’re into wellness terms. “I don’t like feeling this way and I don’t know why I can’t shift out of it.”
That’s when I’ll hit you.
Yes, that’s right. A sharp smack to the side of the head.
Please know that I myself have never been to Nepal. I don’t know the warm joy of having a Nepalese auntie serve me a cup of chai while inquiring about my life, but I’ve learned enough from Sneh to know that loving slaps are allowed.
And I, for one, appreciate that.
Because when I slap you, it’s not going to be from a place of punishment. It’s not going to be from a place of disappointment, or anger, or wanting you to suck it up.
It’s not going to be because you’re wasting time talking to me about your feelings when I think you should be out working extra hours at your job.
It’s going to be because you’re being a fool and I want to help you remember what you know.
“Beta,” I’ll say. “I sit on my porch every morning and watch you leave for work before the sun rises. Then I watch you return home at 9:30. Your mother tells me that you spend that whole time at the office and you don’t even have a window there.”
“When did you last go out with your friends? How many walks did you take this week? Have you prayed or meditated in the last month?”
“And how about me, huh? When is the last time you stopped by for a chai and a chat? Have you brought me flowers in the last year? Do you stop by to ask me if I need anything from the market?”
“And your brother. He moved to Hyderabad to work for that no-good company and you haven’t seen him in eighteen months, have you? How are you to be happy if you don’t see your brother, hmm?”
I’ll go on and on, telling you what’s wrong with your specific situation. Maybe you’re eating too much McDonald’s when you should be eating home-cooked meals. Maybe you never took the time to heal your broken heart after your last breakup. Maybe you’re working the wrong job. Maybe you don’t see your parents enough. Maybe you never learned how to meditate and your monkey mind is driving the show.
The ailment – irrelevant.
What I’m going to do as Auntie Keely (besides slap you) is fill the role that elders filled for millennia before we started living in isolated little boxes, spending our days chasing after more expensive cars instead of connecting with others.
In this case, I’m going to fill that role by reminding you that humans have needs. And when those needs aren’t met, you can’t expect to feel good.
The reason I’m doing it today is because I need the reminder. I have very little resilience in my tank. I’m spending the weekend at a stunningly gorgeous Vietnamese resort, able to dip my feet in the Gulf of Thailand any old time I want, and one subpar conversation took me from a soaring “wow, isn’t life great?” mood to full-on funk in less than ten minutes.
I could sit here and question why I’m such an ungrateful wench. I could scold myself, wondering why I can’t just appreciate the tremendous good fortune the Universe has offered me in this lifetime.
I could pretend to be confused about why I feel this way.
Or I could step into the Nepalese auntie role and have someone remind me what matters. I haven’t seen my husband in a month. I’ve been doing horribly destabilizing trauma resolution work. I’m spending most of my days doing things that I don’t want to do in order to achieve my long-term goals. And life hasn’t been as rich, rewarding or fulfilling in the last few weeks as I’ve gotten used to. Then, on top of that, I know this isn’t ending anytime soon. I have months of travel ahead of me when all I want is to have a home and be there.
I’m out of balance. And one day of dipping my feet in the ocean isn’t going to fix that.
So, if you happen to spend sixty hours a week working a job that you hate and you don’t spend time with your friends and you can’t remember the last time you moved your body in a way that feels good and you haven’t helped another human in the last year and you spend zero time training your mind…please don’t pretend to be confused when you feel off.
You feel off because a human being isn’t meant to thrive in the situation you’re in. Do you know when you’ll feel better? When your situation changes. When your human needs are met.
Now would you like another cup of chai? Because I sure would.
