The way you do anything is the way you do everything

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Who knows someone who is so focused on their own goals that they totally forget how they’re showing up in the other parts of their life?

For example, the friend who no longer turns up now that they’re in a relationship. Or the colleague who is so caught up in work that they fail to see that the deadline is not actually life-or-death.

It’s annoying right?

Well, newsflash. This also includes you.

The concept of consistency in action is well known. Yet even then, we fail to do what we said we were going to do. We want to lose weight, but we fail to take the actions needed to make it happen.

So often, the idea is to overcompensate. We decide to suddenly commit lots of time and energy to that one thing of weight loss to get the results. We go through the fad of health shakes, gym classes in the morning and skinny salads.

Aside from the fact that these behaviours are not likely to last, they also fall into the trap of over-absorption into a single goal.

When we write ambitious goals, we forget about the context of the rest of our lives. And so suddenly, we start to neglect other things. But these things are important – spouses, friends, family, health, wellbeing.

As a coach, I invite people towards a different way of looking at things. Let’s look at your life as a whole. Because that’s where the real clues will come up on what is holding you back.

The reason this is so powerful is because it demonstrates the unhealthy behaviour that is probably the reason we’re not attaining the goal in the first place. To carry on with the weight loss analogy, we might get so hyperfocussed on it that we forget to actually listen to our own body. The sudden shift of diet leads to dramatic mood swings and unhappiness. But rather than listening to ourselves, we power on, through ‘willpower’. Until we don’t. Because this is not a system for success. If we’re not listening to our gut instinct when it comes to health, well no wonder we’re still also in a relationship with someone who doesn’t treat us right.

Most fundamentally, I see people who are frustrated that they aren’t getting the things they want in life. Issues around finding a suitable partner, or wanting a better role or promotion. Yet what they also fail to see is how the way they are showing up in their life is having a large impact on that.

I know a lot of people who disappear off the face of the earth for a few months. Now, I’m empathetic to mental health issues, and I understand the importance of taking time if we need it.

Yet, there is a failure to see that this also has an impact on their relationships. Unsurprisingly these people feel lonely, when they return. This leads to a period of intense socialisation, often with new people. But to cultivate truly valuable relationships, there needs to be a better level of reciprocity, even during ‘difficult’ periods.

I’ve made a conscious decision to spend less time with certain people, because I know that the energy flow was based upon only when the other person was available. Honestly, I’m recognising that I can do much better.

In a workplace setting, the one thing I never understood was how acceptable it became to simply not reply to emails. It’s a systemic failure – so many people don’t know how to manage their email inbox (despite spending over 30 hours a week in front of them, and will do so for the next 30 years). And so they miss crucial information. These are letting key opportunities go by, and it comes from a lack of recognising that sorting out your email inbox ought to be much, much higher a priority if you want to be more effective in your job.

These same people also want promotions. Sure, I’m not naive to the realities of how promotions work, in that it is often very much not meritocratic. Yet, it doesn’t hurt to actually demonstrate that you’re good at your job. And most fundamentally, it’s worthwhile to get to a place where you can actually manage your newfound responsibility because you’ve actually worked on your blind spots.

I replied to an Instagram story asking for advice in Brussels: they were visiting the week after. I received a response today – 3 weeks afterwards about something different (probably because they forgot about the request). It’s an extreme example, but it’s what we do so often.

The most successful people are the ones that realise that life is beyond just getting good at a single goal. It’s about building a wider life, and building ourselves as well-rounded, good human beings with a proper support system and life perspectives.

So take this as an opportunity to really look at how you’re showing up in your life. If you’re struggling with your goals or with finding clarity, it’s probably because you’re neglecting what other areas which are crying out for your attention.

Maybe we don’t actually need a purpose

Photo by patrickltr on Unsplash

Photo by patrickltr on Unsplash

On Monday, I facilitated a session for a local Toastmasters. The aim of it was to be motivational, and help people strive for their purpose. Or at least so I thought.

My instinct was that people could do with a bit of a pep-talk. A reminder that there is something bigger out there for them. This wasn’t necessarily bad, but it wasn’t actually what most people wanted.

It turns out, a lot of people are actually exhausted in being told that they need to chase their dreams and have a big purpose.

It’s why I love being in contact with people. It shows us the real challenges they are facing, rather than what we assume that they think or need. So many policies and programmes go awry because they don’t take the time to see what people actually want.

When I opened the floor up, it became apparent that the idea of having a big purpose was actually making some people feel more stressed rather than motivating them. We’re so bombarded with the idea that we all have to go out and change the world that it’s actually more giving feelings of inadequacy rather than actually helping us.

It reminds me of something I read around goals. The only reason to have a goal is for it to be a fun challenge. When it’s fun, we have a good drive to achieve them. Through this, we improve ourselves and gain a greater level of mastery. But the moment a goal stops being a motivator, it no longer is actually useful. If a goal is actually making us feel miserable, we’re better of just not having the goal at all. That doesn’t mean giving up at the first sign of trouble, but it does mean that holding on to a goal for 10 years which is only making us more depressed about our current state really isn’t worth it.

Perhaps we should forego the idea that we need a purpose. When we played with this idea during the workshop, the goal then could be simply living a happy and fulfilled life. I really enjoyed this idea – we can simply put ourselves wanting to be happy first. After that, everything else is simply a bonus.

Yet the idea of not having a purpose can quickly lend ourselves to some big existential questioning. Is it really true?

Well, in some senses it doesn’t really matter. It’s what we choose to believe. If believing in a purpose is helping you right now in your life, then great. If it’s putting pressure on you, then, well it’s not something you have to believe.

The thing with working around our mindset is to use the tools at our disposal to give ourselves greater clarity with the world. It doesn’t really matter what internal mental gymnastics we use, as long as we create the peace or motivation that we’re looking for.

I personally see it that there is some sort of life path for all of us. We’re going to end up where we’re going to end up one way or another, but the way that we get there is up to us. We can choose to take pleasure in it and enjoy the fruits along the way, or we can try to deny it. We can have great success in the things that we want to do, or we can shy away because we are held back by fear.

So my invitation for you this week is to play with some of these bigger ideas around purpose.

You may not realise it, but these beliefs can actually be playing a massive part in the way you’re living right now.

Daring to dream of a crazy, beautiful life

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The more I talk to people, the more I’m struck at how every one of us have beautiful dreams for our lives.

Unfortunately, many of us get resigned to the idea that such ideas are simply the tale of fiction. After all, we could never ever achieve something as preposterous as that.

But we were born to dream. It wasn’t a mistake. Nor was it a cruel torturous method to dangle a carrot in front of our faces that we were never destined to reach.

Instead, it’s life’s way of pushing us out of our comfort zone. To yearn for something bigger, better, more exciting, more fulfilling. Without the dream, we would stay sitting where we ar3e right now.

Dreams don’t need to be something crazy or radical (but it could be). What this is really about is you living a fulfilled life without regrets for never having tried. This means overcoming the safety in seeing our dreams as unachievable. If we simply label our dreams as impossible, we renege on dealing with our real fears.

I’ve become a Chappell Roan cult fan over the last few months (#callmehotnotpretty). On her Instagram, she posted a Facebook post in 2011 saying that she was determined to be on Saturday Night Live. She starred on it yesterday. Such things are possible.

I crossed back to the poem by Marianne Williamson this week, which encapsulates it so beautifully:

Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, ‘Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous?’ Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won’t feel insecure around you. We are all meant to shine, as children do. We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It’s not just in some of us; it’s in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.

― Marianne Williamson, A Return to Love: Reflections on the Principles of “A Course in Miracles”

I find this poem so powerful because of how confronting it is. One of the biggest things holding people back is the idea that we could actually be something totally amazing. But the idea of expressing greatness would mean coming out of our comfort zone, and entering a new arena. If we’re truly great, we can no longer be the big fish in the small pond.

What I particularly love about this poem is that it also puts the imperative on us to share our gifts with the world. It’s bordering on a moral obligation – it explicitly states that playing small means we are not serving the world. And it also demonstrates that when we become our full authentic selves, it nourishes other people too.

One thing I did randomly this week was an Instagram story with a ‘send me any comments’ annonymised or not (sidenote, if you don’t follow me there, my account is https://www.instagram.com/tahmid.chowdhury/. I actually post a lot more there than LinkedIn)

Two comments I got were the following:

“I appreciate the way you are genuine. You don’t bull***t around”

“I really admire your way of being so free to express yourself. It’s inspiring :)”

It’s both heartwarming to hear how people see me, but it also demonstrates the effect I am having on their lives. This is also intentiaonl. I work on myself and share what I do with the explicit intent to inspire others. On my deathbed, I want to be sure that I’ve done more good in the world than harm.

My experience in being more forthright with who I am is that it tends to shock people at first. When I want to change, it can elicit surprise, and sometimes a negative reaction. But when I hold firm that this is who I am, it actually elicits a shift and often a newfound respect.

Weirdly, relationships often improve rather than get worse the more that I am bold with who I am. Some disappear, but that’s okay too. It gives space for people with a higher energetic resonance that lift me up rather than pull me down.

So my simple message to you this week is this:

Dare to dream. Maybe, just maybe, your incredible, beautiful, crazy life is waiting for you.

Getting clear on what you really want

Photo by Gary Walker-Jones on Unsplash

I don’t doubt you do a lot of different things in your life. But have you ever stopped to ask why you’re doing them?

Whilst it may sound obvious, if we’re not clear about what we want, the chances of us getting it are nigh on impossible. We can easily end up meandering through life. We get ourselves into activities, relationships and jobs without really knowing why we ended up there.

But to have a truly meaningful life, it’s so vital to get really intentional about what the ‘why’.

For me, I had a reexamination of a few different areas of my life. Most notably, I had an appointment with a personal trainer at my gym for the first time. Health is an area that has really gone up in the priority list for me. I’m about as physically active as I’ve ever been, and I feel healthy too. Yet I also have actually gained a bit of weight rather than losing it.

Whilst some of this is weight gain is muscle, evidently there’s some level of misalignment. Talking to a personal trainer made this fact obvious, and so now I’m shifting to actually addressing my nutrition in a much more meaningful way.

My biggest challenge is satiety. I generally eat clean and at home these days. Yet dealing with hunger is very difficult. I can eat healthy, but the issue for me has been still feeling hungry. So the switch up now is really focusing on increasing protein in my diet.

The magic touch is making it fit into my life and my peculiarities. I’m happy to eat very similar food regularly, so I’ve ended up stocking up on tin lentils and beans rather than carb heavy food of oven potatoes. The key here is that I know I can make it easily without much thought, but with some flexibility for creativity. The two are key for me. Early signs are positive, though I think I need to add more texture – I crave crunchy foods. Perhaps I can add some peanuts or croutons on top.

This theme also came out with my coaching clients. When we are so caught up in our world, everything feels so complex. There are so many different things to consider amidst the external pressures and opinions around us. When I first ask people what they want, the answer is often just a solution to the problem in front of them. But that’s not what they want. Well, not really.

Deep down, our desires can be actually very clear. Usually, these things are spoken from the heart, rather than the mind. The sign of this is that they’re usually short, simple statements, rather than complex ones.

For example, it’s the difference in me saying:

“I think I should lose some weight because I am getting older and my BMI is high, so the doctor advised me to do it so I probably should. It will also stop people commenting on my weight”

to:

“I want to lose weight.

Why? I want to be able to do more acrobatic moves in pole dance and fit into a wider range of clothes.”.

It’s very clear, and simple, and the difference is even more stark when saying it out loud. The next step after this is putting in place the ‘how’. But we can only put in place the ‘how’ when we’re clear with the ‘why’.

The magic to making great change in our lives is getting clear around our desires. It cuts through so much of the noise in our lives, as well as our own internal b******t.

If this is something you’re looking at help for, drop me a message.

Navigating the challenges of being different

Photo by Steffen Junginger on Unsplash

I’ve known for a long time that I’m different.

Growing up in the UK from a Bangladeshi background, I was one of the few non-white faces within school.

But it was only until I got to my first office job that I first realised that my differences would provoke additional challenges. Before that, I naively thought that the workplace was a space that was genuinely open, and driven towards the most effective way of working.

With my recent autism diagnosis, I feel like I’m having this experience all over again. With this new lens, I’m seeing all the ways that I’ve been navigating additional barriers, often without even realising they existed.

On Tuesday, I went to a ‘begin to workout’ gym class. The description stated it was a light class to help people begin strength training workouts. But in practice, my personal trainer decided to do what was essentially a High Intensity Internal Training style class. There was little explanation, instead it was about doing several different movements in quick time to maximise an ‘efficient’ workout.

I was p***ed off. The trainer kept trying to ‘motivate’ me by telling me to have less breaks and just to try harder. At one point I actually explained to him that the reason I came to this class was just to get a basic introduction to strength exercises and see how I can add them into my practice. It was not push my body to its limit. He then explained to me that this was not possible, as there were too many people (there were four of us, in a class with a max total of 6).

I did the class, only to find myself barely being able to walk the next day. I had to subsequently cancel a dance class that I really wanted to do because it would have been a terrible idea.

The really annoying thing about this was that I knew this was the case as it was happening. A lesser, younger version of me wouldn’t have dared question a personal trainer. But now I knew that some of the exercises were pushing me beyond a reasonable limit.

My autism diagnosis has helped me make sense of episodes like these.

For starters, when I follow instructions, I take them literally. My tendency is to carry on, even if I’m overexerting myself. Because I thought that this was what everyone was experiencing, I would push through anyway. Unsurprisingly, I would injure myself a lot.

I also find the instructions in classes so contradictory. On the one hand, I had this personal trainer telling me that ‘everyone goes at their own rhythm’, but then we went to the next exercise which explicitly was around ‘no breaks beyond 15 seconds between exercises’. These two facts are very contradictory.

My modus operandi is to follow through on instructions. This means I will try very hard to do what I’m told, to a fault. the actual advice I’ve needed is not to go harder, but actually to go slower. Unfortunately, this sort of advice doesn’t seem to exist in Personal Trainer training 101. The answer to everything seems to be about pushing people harder. This has meant I’ve experienced a cycle of pushing myself so hard I get injured. And when I return, I’m even further away from my fitness goals than I was in the first place. I then blame myself for not being able to follow through with an exercise regime. At no point did anyone tell me that these are meant to be moderate workouts where you aren’t meant to always feel terrible after them.

I’ve felt betrayed by the experts that have guided me in many situations. Rather than properly assessing what I need, I’ve been instead told to follow a cookie-cutter solution that was not meant for me.

When it doesn’t work, I internalised the idea that it was my fault because I was too lazy. Even now, when I push back around poor advice that I know won’t work for me, I end up getting judged for this. Either I’m making excuses for being lazy, or I’m too arrogant to take people’s advice.

For better or for worse, I’m learning to accept that people will judge me for being different. It won’t necessarily be directly because of things such as my skin colour. Instead it will be the fact that my needs and truths are very different. For example, I will know in my heart that someone’s well meaning advice would be terrible for me. Expressing this however, will simply mean that the narrative of the ungrateful, aggressive minority gets further forged.

There is no silver bullet that will magically dismantle inequalities. But recognising these exist are an important step. For me, the autism diagnosis set this out clearly.

For those of us who are different, being clear in who we are and what we believe becomes even more paramount. Following the crowd will probably not work for us, so we need to be able to actively stand for our particular needs.

It won’t be like a Hollywood movie. Backlash happens, friends are lost.

But if we want the best life for ourselves, we don’t have any other choice. We must learn to take a stand for what we really need.

Moving on from the mediocrity of our living

Photo by Alex Plesovskich on Unsplash

Try having some fruit, that will give you some good vitamins’.

During my burnout period, I went basically into total hibernation mode. My eating was repetitive, easy to make food.

Fruit slowly disappeared from my meals, whilst vegetables also were less visible in my plate. It’s essentially been whatever I can put in the oven that requires minimal effort.

But in this one moment of eating an apple, my body suddenly felt a surge of energy. Rather than relying on a sugar boost from a fizzy drink or falling back on an energy drink, I was getting genuine, healthy nutrition.

It didn’t take long for my body to start craving fruit again. And so, without necessarily trying too hard, I’ve been buying more fruit.

None of this is exactly mind blowing. We all know eating fruit is generally good for us. Yet when I was stuck in a rut of mediocrity, I lost sight of what is genuinely nourishing.

The striking thing about mediocre living is that how easy we can become comfortable with it. Yet once we get a taste for a higher form of living, returning back to mediocrity is no longer be appealing. Suddenly my desire for a more rounded diet is returning, and in the meantime so is my energy and a more rounded lifestyle.

I’m not ‘trying’ to eat healthier. I’m just naturally being pulled towards doing it. I don’t need a bucket list of accountability statements, affirmations or manifestations. I’m in sync with living better, so I just do it. It’s like getting a whole package of benefits without needing to even try.

Understanding and self-compassion is important. My mediocre living was necessary for that moment – it was a period where I was toughing it out. By accepting this, and treating myself with kindness and grace, I don’t feel guilty for living this way.

Guilt-tripping ourselves into change is very rarely successful. It takes far more effort, is far less fun, and can have adverse negative effects. Whenever I guilt myself, It also only serves to add to my unhappiness. The unhappiness can then undermine my original intent. If I’m feeling so low that I want quick comfort food, well I’m going to find it hard to eat healthy the next time. Worse, it’ll just fuel a next cycle of guilt.

As I start socialising with people again, I’m seeing far more instances of people living in a mediocre way. Rushing around, often being stressed, or just being unable to really get a grip of their lives. The issue is never that people don’t have hopes and dreams, it’s that the hopes and dreams are buried under a pile of life admin and stress.

But change is possible, and often easier than you think. Often, the change is not actually about the subject itself. Instead, it’s about how we view and treat ourselves. Shifting our internal feelings does wonders for dealing with the practical elements of our lives.

For example, today I woke up early, and ended up spending an hour or so tidying my room. It’s something I haven’t really done in months. I’ve been kind to myself to allow my room to be messy, instead foccussing on my basic needs of energy and sustenance. But as I have became more content with life, my desire for better also has reawakened.

My want for a clean room drove me to tidy it up. I can already feel the benefits that this gives me. What was nice is that this wasn’t something I had to force myself to do either.

My room is just an analogy for a wider point (which I actually made in an article a year ago). When we create the right conditions for ourselves, change can be remarkably easy. We end up making changes within weeks that we thought would take us years.

If you want better in life, it’s possible. If it’s something you’d like to pursue, drop me a message and I can see if there’s anything I can do to help.

Understanding our own body’s unique preferences

Photo by Lucrezia Carnelos on Unsplash

I’ve just woken up after 12 hours of sleep.

Apparently, my body was much more in rest than I had realised. I’ve had an intermittent cough the last week, been running on less sleep, and have some bodily wounds which are healing too.

I feel better after sleeping so long. My brain’s functioning also feels like it is returning to a heightened performance again – I noticed that I was making errors in the phrasing of sentences, or forgetting words (especially in foreign languages).

Over the last week, I feel like I had a revelation around my body. It might sound quite obvious when I say it out loud, but it has blown my mind all the same.

My body has it’s own personality. It has likes and dislikes, strengths and weaknesses. It is not a piece of clay which I mould into whatever I feel like.

In a lot of ways, my body matches my own personality. There are certain things it particularly likes (e.g. physical contact, warmth, tenderness, sometimes strong sensations). Meanwhile, for example it lacks confidence around using its strength, and can often feel quite weak.

I’ve spent a long time trying to fight with my body. I’ve wanted to be thinner, and I’ve been frustrated at the times where I feel like I have an insatiable appetite, or that it’s felt too tired to push it into doing more exercise.

Yet, my recent experiences when I’ve gotten cuts and wounds has made me remark at how resilient my body is. I very rarely get red marks, and I also heal from cuts very easily. I can take a good amount of pain, and my body stays pretty relaxed during things like surgery. My skin is broadly healthy, and I generally like my physical appearance too.

The main difficulties I’ve had with my body has been around trying to fit it into a mould that I don’t think it’s suited to. I’ve wanted to be thinner and more nimble. And whilst this is not impossible, my practical experience of a larger, South Asian autistic being has made this tricky.

For example, going to yoga classes has generally done more to make me feel like there’s something wrong with my body rather than accepting it. Ironically. body acceptance is what yoga is meant to be about, before it became co-opted by the 5 trillion dollar wellness industry which is designed for white women rather than me. A lot of yoga now uses ‘spirituality’ to hide the real goal, which is actually to show off in sexy yoga leggings. Just ask someone from India what they think about the fact that teachers say ‘Namaste’ at the end of the classes.

Over the last five years, I’ve spent a lot of time practising yoga. It’d be a lie to say it hasn’t helped at all, yet certainly not as much progress as it ‘should’ have given considering all that is said about it. I miss my teachers from London, where I felt there was a more legitimate connection to the deeper meaning from within. In Brussels, or at least at the studio I’ve gone to, it’s felt shallower, and more close to a fitness class. I feel like the odd one out in a sea of white women, despite the fact that the origins of the practice is actually far closer to my ancestry.

More recently, I’ve been taking more dance classes. Now that I’ve overcome my absolute panic at the idea of dancing, I find it quite fun. I’m not quite the type for hyper-energetic spins and dances (maybe in the future), but I enjoy the slower, sensual movements. It fits well and I don’t really feel like I’m having to do something grueling, or difficult.

It also means that I don’t have to feel ‘behind’ with my body. A lot of fitness based classes means that my weight makes it much harder. Balancing myself or lifting myself up is tricky, despite the fact that I’m somewhat muscular. It’s rather logical – weighing more means more effort is required to hold myself up.

Some people are more naturally suited to certain exercises. If I was a skinnier, petite woman or a lean muscular man I would find a lot of modern yoga classes easier. But I’m not either of those, so it’s not particularly helpful to hold myself up to those standards.

I’m learning that my body can function in two ways – being very static, or being very much on the move. It can be quite dramatic in the difference between the two. I don’t seem to have much of a ‘moderate’ mode, so it can be quite all or nothing.

I’ve realised that I’ve learnt to essentially ignore the signals of my gut health throughout my life. Unsurprisingly, my relationship with my body up to this point hasn’t been great.

My brother told me about how genetically, us South Asians are born to basically constantly eat rice. We do not get full on it, making dieting in the modern world tricky.

But rather than cursing my genetics, I can look at what my body is saying with this. If I fuel myself correctly, I can essentially operate as a labourer would have done in the past. Rather than overly trying to restrict my eating, I might just be better off working with it, and being more active.

Perhaps my current hypothesis is pseudo-scientific, but I think it’s worth a try anyway. Either way, I’ll learn much more about my body this way, which can only serve to help.

The biggest revelation I’ve had is looking to treat my body not as something I ‘own’, but instead like a human partner which has it’s own thoughts, feelings and preferences.

I’m now looking to build a better relationship. This one will feel much more like a partnership.

Re-evaluating the games we play in our lives

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I’m not very good at being ‘normal’. I tried it.

In fact, I tried very hard. But the more I tried, the more I ended up seeming like a paid-actor hired into a sample group. I didn’t really fit in, so I learnt what I should say. But then, my rehearsed, polished answers were a little too good to be trusted.

In my mind, I’ve been following what I’ve been told to do. Speak with clarity. Be careful with emotion (but use it as a leader). Structure difficult conversations correctly. Research the best way to approach the project. Improve in skills required for the task. Yet I still find that I’ve had a lot of disconnect with the people around me.

One of the benefits of now having an official autism diagnosis is seeing why the disconnect takes place. When many people recommend certain actions, they don’t often expect you to do it. The rate of follow-through is so poor that actually doing what is recommended in society can turn out to be quite suspicious. For me, promising something and not following through gives me a deep sense of anxiety and guilt. The feeling can be so painful (even for relatively little things) that I feel like I need to vomit. So I very much avoid not doing what I said I would.

For a long time, I’ve felt like I’ve been playing a game where there was no way real way to win. I could learn the rules, and work on getting very good. But once I became good, I was seen with suspicion because I was a little too good. When the solution then shifted to being more authentic, well I tried that too. Unfortunately, authenticity is only fine if it’s the right kind of authenticity. Many of my traits – concern about unconscious biases, accessibility and a (too) strong sense of justice isn’t what they meant.

When we talk about authenticity of the workplace, what we often mean is that we want the straight, white team leader to be a bit more open about the illness his dog has had. This helps explain why he is in a bad mood and helps us empathise with him.

But what we don’t want is an ethnic minority pointing out moral qualms about the actions we are doing. These are often seen as just being too negative. Again, I tried to ‘work’ on this. I learnt to deliver my views in a carefully constructed manner, following a bunch of different tips and tricks I learnt in my own time. Yet after a while, I saw the hypocrisy. Here I was, someone already less privileged, having to neatly wrap up my feedback in fear of a negative reaction. Meanwhile, I did not see this from others, and I rarely saw such care given to me.

There comes a point where we must question whether the games we are playing are really worth it. My burnout has certainly prompted such thoughts for me. If I am constantly feeling like I am on edge and having to be perfect with what I say or do, is that really a way to live? I’ve seen how this has permeated across my life. I find it harder to be trusting, open and really honest.

I previously wrote about how ultimately, life is based upon the games we play. We can often forget that we ultimately have a choice as to whether we still want to play these games. That means that we can choose to change things if we want. It may not necessarily be easy, particularly when looking at all our other life commitments. And in the short term, it may lead to a difficult situation too – whether financial, emotional or even marital.

Yet I’m yet to see an example where someone changes something they were truly unhappy about and didn’t find it was worth it.

An incredibly rapid autism diagnosis (a mere 7 months!)

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‘Based upon everything we’ve discussed, I believe you clearly fit within the threshold of autism’.

I couldn’t help but smile.

I feel like getting my autism diagnosis is a cause for celebration. I can now actually describe myself as Autistic. I don’t need to caveat as ‘probably autistic’ or question whether I really am or not anymore. What I had basically assumed to be the case 7 months ago turns out to actually be true.

Some people will find my reaction quite surprising. After all, isn’t getting an assessment for a neurological and development disorder actually meant to feel bad?

Autism has explained so much about my life, such as the way I can be extremely sensitive to certain things (emotions, touch, people). Understanding that there is an actual neurological difference is such valuable information, and it has already helped make sense about so many things that have happened in my life.

Yet even if I knew this was probably autism, there was always some element of doubt. Getting a diagnosis means I can have confirmed medical expertise that this isn’t something I’ve made up ‘all in my head’. I haven’t ‘decided’ I am autistic due to being an attention seeker. Nor am I trying to explain away my problems away by finding a fake reason.

Instead, I’m someone who has followed my gut when presented with clear information that I spent hours researching. I’m actually proud of myself that I’ve managed to persevere with this, despite the many hurdles to get assessed (not to mention the stigmas attached).

In this sense, getting an autism diagnosis within seven months is actually very fast. I have friends who are looking for ADHD/Autism assessments but will probably need around a year or two to get one done. Getting an appointment for it is nightmareish, whilst the costs are extremely prohibitive. I’m fortunate that I had the support of my parents, as well as finding a service that was cheaper (~£650) compared to the usual amount of £1000-2000+ in the UK.

On top of actually finding a provider, there was also the difficulty completing the assessments themselves. I had a series of joyous questionnaires to fill in, which ironically are not very autism friendly. The questionnaires are rather binary, and it’s hard to critically judge yourself as well. For example, It was hard to describe myself as a very sensitive person, simply because I only know the experience of my own life. I just assumed that everyone experienced emotions this intensely.

There was also the fact that the assessment needed the perspective of my mother. Logistically, this added the complication that my mum doesn’t speak English incredibly well. It also meant having a fun-filled deep-dive of my childhood behaviours between a psychologist, myself and my mother.

More fundamentally though, there are many things that she doesn’t remember anyway. Asian parenting styles were not ones that have deep levels of observation for childhood quirks compared to a more modern, western style. I was worried that this would mean that the assessment would fall in on itself due to a lack of sufficient ‘evidence’.

The irony of all of this is that I have an increasing amount of autistic people in my life, and based upon my behaviours, many of them could probably tell within twenty minutes.

I wasn’t sure that I would get a professional who has a modern understanding of Autism. I actually had a neuropsychologist tell me a few weeks ago that I could not be autistic because I was able to make jokes, and liked too much variety in my life. I was essentially too ‘functional’ to be Autistic. It was rather depressing that this is still a prevalent view in 2024.

Fortunately, my autism assessor runs a clinic in London. He told me how he comes across many ‘highly functioning’ people who are actually neurodivergent and/or autistic themselves. The myth of autistic people only being ‘low functioning’ is fading, albeit slowly.

I see getting this autism assessment as more about understanding the differences in my way of being. I certainly do not think it is a disorder. Yet, following a lot of consideration, I would still describe autism as a disability. I don’t believe that there is anything wrong with me, but because the system is so ill-equipped for my existence, it’s about seeing that I am going to be perennially disadvantaged.

The search for an answer that has unexpectedly dominated my 2024 has now come to an end.

I know that having the diagnosis doesn’t really change anything in of itself. But it does now let me close this chapter, and move on with my life.

Burnout, or a mutiny of the soul?

Photo by Jr Korpa on Unsplash

 

‘What you might call a burnout, I would call a mutiny of the soul’.

A curious phrase. I had never thought about it that way.

It was what that John Patrick Morgan said to me this week on a phone call as he was doing his gardening. It’s the second time I’ve had a conversation with him directly, and the first since my conversation last year with him nearly exactly 12 months ago.

My recent months of introspection have been far more scientific medical than spiritual. Whilst the last few years was far more about exploring the existential, 2024 has been a lot more about trying to rationalise and diagnose.

This has been necessary. Going to see doctors and consulting medical expertise is a critical part of modern society. And for a good reason too – our healthcare has vastly improved due to our better understanding of how we function as human beings.

Yet, there was a reason I turned to spiritual teachings in the first place. There are limits to the scientific – the rational can only explain so much.

Treating burnout and mental health is an unclear, often messy game. What works for one person does not work for another. For some, the answer would have been to do more exercise. For others, take more rest was what is needed.

Nothing epitomises this russian roullette more than antidepressants. It feels like taking a gambling swig of chemicals, hoping they might help. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not anti-antidepressants: they serve a purpose and can seriously help people. But I can’t help but think that experimenting with chemicals when you are already in a difficult moment is risky. Ideally, we would have a better measure of what helps us when we are healthy. At least then if we have unhelpful side effects, we can better deal with them.

I’ve been extremely tired. It’s hard to do anything when in such a state. I could see this as a mental burnout, or I could reframe this more spiritually. Perhaps what I am really managing is a mutiny where my own self would prefer to lay down arms rather than continue with what I am doing.

Rest is important, yet if it was the only solution I would have recovered long ago. Instead, there is a clear lack of willingness to do the things I was previously doing. My soul is refusing to cooperate – it does not want to return to my previous existence.

This weekend, I ended up going dancing a few times. I knew I would enjoy this, yet I was worried because I felt exhausted, despite a week of rest. Weirdly, after doing something I actually enjoyed, suddenly my body felt more energetic and sprightly. This was despite lacking a few hours of sleep!

Rationally, this doesn’t make much sense. Doing more physical activity when tired should make one even more tired. Yet in practice it actually kicked my body back into gear. It’s almost as if my spiritual self is far more happy when I do things I enjoy. Who would have thought?

This isn’t a consistent thing either. If I force myself to do things like any old physical actiity that I do not want to, I won’t feel particularly energised by them. My idea of fun is dancing, but running a marathon is not. There’s a subtle but important difference between feeling short term lethargy and a spiritual rejection to doing an activity I genuinely do not want to do.

So what does this all mean in practice? Well, I think I need to get far more honest and radical with my life. There’s no going back to ‘the way things were’, and pretending that I can is only prolonging my own suffering.

Being in tune with our spiritual self power allows us to let go. We follow the path life has in store for us, rather than trying to fight it.

As Pierre Teilhard de Chardin said,

We are not human beings having a spiritual experience. We are spiritual beings having a human experience.