Somewhere between those two lines — a clinging love, an exhausting hell — lives my past 4.5 years of work.
Starting today, I’m no longer between them. Who knows what side I will end up past, but I’m happy to assuredly be no longer between.
“No matter how much we want things to stay the same, life is all about change. Sometimes change is for the better, and sometimes it’s not.”
#iamgrateful and #iamthankful that time is unavoidable, unstoppable, and relentless. Because it also only moves forward. All the things we can’t control move forward. All of the things that move backwards, are a product of our own choices.
Today was a can’t lose, bye hell, hello change kinda day. And I will raise my glass to it.
The greatest measure of a person’s life is found in love.
Warren Buffet, some 18 years ago, defined it further as whether or not the people you want to have love you, love you.
I used to believe that. Until I realized that approach can be gamed. You can pursue only the reciprocal. You can choose to stop loving those who don’t love you back. I don’t buy Warren Buffett’s advice.
It’s selfish. It sets us on a path where we are judged by the way people see us. That’s great for history books. It’s not a great way to move forward in life. It’s downright unhealthy.
I believe he’s onto something; he just got caught up on the validation. On outcomes. Outcomes aren’t always ours to take credit or blame for. What is ours is our effort, our motivation, our approach. Give me the right work over lucky outcomes any day. Really.
Which is why I see it differently. At 44. With two kids. Who I struggle with on a moment to moment basis between who I want them to become and what I need them to know: which is that I love them, no matter what.
And the latter point is where it clicks.
To me, that’s the greatest measure of success today. Loving. No matter what.
At scale.
I wonder then: Have I found a way to love everyone I meet? For some reason? Have I found a way to love more no matter what you get back?
You don’t love so you can be loved. You love simply to love. Love isn’t something you can channel, or direct, or choose.
Love Just is.
The greatest measure of a person’s life is how much, how far, how wide — how truly and honestly, you love.
In year 44, I vow to love more, regardless. I vow to just love. And I believe if I can do so, it will be my most successful year ever. And if I can’t. I’ll be back here writing the same thing for year 45.
I’m gonna take a shower in a bit. #iamgrateful and #iamthankful and #wemissyou Life will never be what it was but it will move forward and we will squeeze the hell out of every moment.
A year ago I wrote a post about how grateful and thankful I was for the opportunities 2018 presented. Two days later, my father died.
My life changed profoundly on that day and I’ve spent the past year thinking about how to live a more deliberate life. I decided to document that here and I’m working hard to translate this to our team Crazy Egg and to the people who we work for every single day.
2018 … was not easy. Personally. Professionally. It was a year that shook me to my core.
Upon heavy reflection, specifically the past 6 weeks, I realize it’s no coincidence that it ran in parallel with my stepping back from public, daily, gratitude. So today, on the first day of the year, I want to acknowledge the role I played in defining 2018 (on all of the wrong feet), and I want to set the footing…straight. I’ll start with celebrating two people for whom I have no words.
Mom and Dad.
Not those of blood and birthright. But those of luck and choice. Priya KC Bhatt‘s parents. More powerfully, my parents for the past decade plus.
Today…they were there for me, my sis, and my mom … and to them, they’ll think nothing of it.
How do you explain tonight? New Year’s Eve? For my entire childhood I remember my parents making a go at whatever America threw at us, for us. Halloween. Valentine’s Day. Birthdays. Christmas. Thanksgiving. July 4th. You name it. They absorbed, adopted, acclimated, and served my sister Anu Kiran and I a platter, a feast, of moments. But New Year’s Eve? That was theirs.
They partied and threw down in a way that would make the most velvet of ropes feel inferior.
Until February 4th, 2018. When Dad skipped the line and entered the next venue a bit before Mom (she’s destined to enter that party at some point, some days she’s more eager than others, but we know he’s already paid her way and is merely inside, holding a hightop table, with her drink ready … Gin & Tonic … hell, he probably told the barkeep how to make it). New Year’s Eve was them. Until it wasn’t. Today. It wasn’t. How do you fill that void? You bring two amazing kids along for the ride. And wow. Anaiya and Jaanu …they fill voids. They fill canyons. They’d turn the Grand Canyon into a Nebraskan highway.
But how else do you fill that void? You marry into the Chadha family. And you watch Satinder Chadha and Daljit Chadha step into the most complicated of spaces and bring smiles, fun, love, happiness……they act like they had no other place they’d ever been and no other place they’d want to be.
And actually, there’s no acting. There’s just them.
We’re blessed. I’ve got nothing else to say. We’re blessed. #iamgrateful and #iamthankful for Mom and Dad C and have been from day
1. But even moreso, on days like today, I’m beyond thankful and grateful.#iamspeechless
Daddy went back to the bartender tonight. He asked for some extra ice cubes. “She’s going to be a while” he said.
Happy Birthday, Ba. I had a pretty good week; which means … you’d have had an even better one. There’s something incredible about a grandparent’s love. I witnessed it first-hand with you, and I’m seeing it first-hand with our kids too. All love gets magnified; all missteps get marginalized. It’s not even rose colored glasses … I think it’s parents getting a second chance to look at the kids in their lives and thinking “you know, maybe I would have looked at the world more like this, knowing then what I know now.” It’s something I’m working on experiencing before my second time around. Because of you. Because of them.
We’re taking the kids to Candytopia tomorrow; all for you. For all I know, I know the one thing for sure — Candytopia would’ve been exactly how you’d have wanted to celebrate your birthday with these (or any) little monkeys around. We’ll roll with less rules for that reason, tomorrow. Love you, Ba. For teaching me the word unconditional.
#iamgrateful and #iamthankful for that feeling you gave us, and how unavoidable it is at the best and worst of times — just enveloping love when it’s needed or welcome the most. Hope you and Daddy had a great dinner tonight.
Sometimes…things, videos, clips, all, just speak for themselves. #iamgrateful and #iamthankful for Graham Norton getting what matters and brings us all together on days when sometimes, life and trends are trying to do the opposite.
Jump on it.
May any hill we all climb together, as a crew, a gang, be, at the very list, sugary by nature (not cause I hate ya.)
We distributed your ashes today. There’s so much I want to write and say but I don’t know if I have the energy for it: too much life happening recently.
I do want to share a few things, though.
For example, when we took your body down in India and prepared you for cremation, the sky opened up and refreshed the earth with rain. Quickly. Just while we carried you down. It stopped precisely when we hit the ground floor. Well, today, we took those ashes from that day for distribution. And when we sat in the car, and turned away from our cul-de-sac, our windshield began to be spotted by rain again. Just for the drive. Just for those 22 minutes. It was beautiful. It’s too poetic for me to leave it as a coincidence. Instead, I used it as a crutch for the ceremony. I needed crutches. My knees were ripe to buckle a few times — mom’s face, Tita’s tears…most powerfully when your grandkids were participating. Throwing your ashes to the wind and water. Oh wow. Then. Yes then.
Those rain drops. Ami Chhatna, gave me some strength. It was beautiful to see even Mother Nature bow her head and shed some tears for you.
You’re also, all space and air and memories and legacy now. Your ashes are no longer in our house. That was a crutch for all of us too. It sounds silly. But that box in the house … that was comfort. It’s no more. And that’s hard. That’s really hard, Daddy.
Mom said it. “It’s real.” And she said so much more. Yes, we are going to be fine. But yes, it’s still so hard.
Finally. I wore your shirt today. I shaved this morning. I had my glasses on. And when I saw myself in the car window I startled myself. Honestly. I did a double take. I thought I saw you. And then I looked harder. I saw what looked like a wire hanger holding up your shirt. Hollow. Two dimensional. Empty. There’s so much legacy, love, life, to fill. If I have to be honest, which I have to be, I’m not filling it. I’m just not close to filling it.
You are your legacy longer than you are your self.#iamgrateful and #iamthankful for how you are being carried forward. How people are keeping you alive. How your presence is being maintained even as your person moves More permanently into the past. That’s beautiful. That’s a crutch. When people talk about you and remember you. Those are little crutches too.
I look at all you’ve left behind. Your legacy is incredible. It’s humbling. Mine pales, Daddy. #truth. It’s been a lot to process. But truth is truth. However when you see those grandkids of yours I think the world sees all the best of you carrying forward. That’s also your truth. They are some of the best of your legacy. And that too…is perhaps my strongest crutch. You. In them.
That’s beautiful too.#iamgrateful and #iamthankful for that We miss you, Daddy. It was chilly today. You’d have hated the weather. But loved the day.
Love feels good. Life feels good. It does. Yes. There’s so much to do and just…so much to love. I’m good.
I know my last post was heavy. Life is sometimes just heavy. It’s not a bad thing. It’s a life thing. No need to shy away from it. I’ve had a few folks ping me to see if I’m ok. I am folks. Always. I’ve always loved writing. It helps me think and process. And FB is the easiest platform to write and think simultaneously.
If WordPress made it this easy to flow and post, I’m sure I’d dive in there but for now, from my phone, this is what I’ve got. As for tomorrow? Why step into the weekend when we can circle slide, kick, and MJ spin, right?
Enjoy this brilliance (and the message is so darned true). #iamgrateful and #iamthankful for you all.
I desperately wanted to make it through today. September 11th.
It’s an eerily odd year because the days (the 9th, the 10th, the 11th) all fell on similar days as they did in 2001. When life synchronizes emotion with progression with time with numbers, things become more real. When September 11th falls on a Thursday or a Saturday it means a lot to me but it does, very honestly, mean a little less than it does when it falls on a Tuesday.
When it falls on a Tuesday my September 11th starts on Sunday. When we grabbed breakfast while watching football. And when we roamed NYC. Or when we caught a friend’s one-man show before hugging on the corner Christopher and West 4th for a “see ya later” … that turned into a “goodbye forever”. I was young then. I’m old as sin now. Forever is way more probable than later. With life happening as fast as it does. Forever is way more possible than later. These days. This year.
F*ck you 2018.All I wanted to do was pour a Guinness down my throat and say goodbye to this Tuesday in September that’s graded on a curve, that’s weighted on a curve.
That’s all I wanted to do. Until I heard your news, buddy. Luke Haseloff you’ll be sorely missed. I called you every time I swapped jobs. We were going to make Jersey City happen (hell, from that email exchange last night it was going to happen in September or October! But it was going to happen.) WHOA was it going to happen. A month away from this birthday. Networking events in full swing….and I guess that’s the problem. It was probably going to happen. It was possibly going to happen. But now it won’t happen, forever. And there’s the rub. Forever is now more likely than possible or probable.
And I hate my new normal. I’m not doing enough to fly in the face of it. 2018 has presented a new challenge what feels like every other week. But as I explained to a friend this weekend who suffered through the tragic death of a loved one — so young, at the peak of life — as I worked through with a friend … I realized, this is our new normal.25 years ago it was sweet sixteens.22 years ago it was turning 21.20 years ago it was graduation.10 years ago it was weddings.5 years ago it was birthdays.
Today. And forever. It’s not possible. It’s not probable. It’s forever.
Today. It’s about remembering. That’s scary as hell. Until you realize it’s not probable. It’s not possible. It’s truth. And when it happens. Your forever is based on what you were. Not what you thought you were. Or wished you were.
Just what you were. My answer: not good enough. Not good ENOugh. TO EVERYONE we’ve lost. To everyone we’re with.
NOT GOOD ENOUGH. As I whack my head against my monitor and my computer screen and my past 10, 15, 20 years.Am I doing enough? For the people I love. Even like?
It’s a simple answer. No. NOT enough. It’s a start. Learn from loss. Learn. From. Loss.
Or it’s just loss. #iamgrateful and #iamthankful for … whatever time life affords me. I don’t have anything else to say. Good. Night. Goodnight.
I am folks. Always. I’ve always loved writing. It helps me think and process. And FB is the easiest platform to write and think simultaneously. 
Suneet Bhatt 