The Trap of the Tranquil Smile
There was a phase when I believed silence was the answer to everything.
Breakup? Meditate.
Business loss? Light an agarbatti, chant “Om Shreem,” and sip tulsi tea like I didn’t want to scream.
Spiritual people told me: “Detach, Sandeep. Don’t react. Be still like water.”
But what if my water had waves? And what if that was okay?
We’ve wrapped “balance” in Himalayan salt lamps and Instagram affirmations. We want to be calm, collected, cucumber-level chill — while juggling meetings, breakups, social anxiety, and that one family WhatsApp group that won’t stop sending forwards.
Here’s the truth no one’s telling you — balance doesn’t look peaceful all the time. Sometimes it’s messy. Sometimes it’s loud. And sometimes… it swears in Hindi.
When I Tried to Be Buddha and Became Burnt Toast Instead
It was 2019, Goa. Monsoon season. My startup had tanked. I had just come out of a relationship that ended with the classic, “It’s not you, it’s your shadow work.”
I checked into an ashram. No phone. No carbs. No eye contact after 6 pm. You get the vibe.
I told the guru, “I want to be free of my anger, my fear, my ambition.”
He looked at me like I’d asked to return my soul for store credit.
He said, “Beta, you want to be free of your fire? That’s the only thing lighting your way.”
Boom.
There it was. In one line, he shattered my Instagram spirituality — the idea that peace is the absence of fire.
The next few days, I sat with myself. No pretending. Just raw, sometimes ridiculous silence. The kind where your mind serves you every memory you didn’t want to revisit — and then asks for popcorn.
I wasn’t zen. I was cracked open. But I was finally honest.
The Real Lesson — Peace Isn’t Always Pretty
Let’s get this straight. Zen doesn’t mean emotionless. It means anchored.
Still waters? Sure. But also… ocean storms that know they’ll settle eventually.
The obsession with “balance” — this idea that you should never feel too much — is just another performance. A spiritual flex. And in our culture? Oh, we love a good act.
We’ve grown up watching our elders suppress grief like it’s shameful. Anger? Not sanskari. Sadness? Beta, go do yoga. Be grateful.
But these emotions — they’re part of the human curriculum. You can’t graduate life skipping the hard chapters.
So no, you don’t need to “maintain balance” all the time. You need to hold space — for the joy and the mess. For the rage and the calm. For the contradiction that is you.
Chaos, Crowds, and Conscious Living — What This Means for You
You’re not broken if you cry during a gym session. Or if you yell at your phone before your morning meditation.
You’re not off-track if your spiritual journey includes Netflix binges and carbs.
The myth of balance sells us a polished version of self-care — drink green juice, journal in a Moleskine, wear linen. But real self-care?
It’s calling yourself out on your own crap — lovingly.
It’s choosing rest over revenge.
It’s breathing through shame instead of silencing it.
Modern life isn’t designed for perfect peace. The city honks, your laptop crashes, and your delivery guy judges you for ordering dessert twice in one day (yes, Raju, I saw that eyebrow).
But through all that — if you can come back to yourself, again and again — you’re doing better than most monks with Wi-Fi.
So, Where Do We Go From Here?
Here’s what I’ve learned after 15+ years of spiritual faceplants and breakthroughs:
Balance is not a destination.
It’s not something you “achieve” and post a reel about.
It’s a dance. A practice. A dialogue with your ever-changing self.
You don’t need to be zen all the time. You need to be present. That’s enough.
Sometimes present looks peaceful. Sometimes it looks like a mild breakdown in your parked car with Arijit Singh on repeat.
Either way, it’s divine.
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