Celebrating gratitude
Exploring some philosophical concepts of perspective, gratitude and a search for meaning
Happy Diwali!
I want to share with you a story from my recent travels that offered me some perspective I hope will be useful for you. I also want to write this as a reminder to myself, as I'm sure I'll benefit from coming back to this again in the foreseeable future.
But first I need to lay down some foundations, so bare with me as I share some thoughts on some philosophical concepts, the Holocaust and a mysterious interaction with a stranger in Helsinki.
Some foundations
In my last post, I shared some reflections and wishes for my birthday, a day before my birthday, but I deliberately left out a wish that I try to keep in my heart and quietly utter on my lips in Punjabi at least every couple of days with sincerity: sarbat da bhala, which translates more or less to wishing for the wellness of everyone in the world.
It comes from the Sikh spiritual tradition of a foundational prayer called the Ardas that always closes with "Nanak Naam Chardi Kala, Tere Bhane Sarbat Da Bhala."
This translates to:
Nanak, with Naam comes Charhdi Kala and with divine will may there be wellness for everyone in the whole world.
Naam in Punjabi (and many other languages) means name. The meaning in this context in Sikh philosophy refers to 'the divine' and although simplistically it can be taken to mean the name of God, Sikh philosophy is pantheistic in nature and the concept of ‘Naam’ therefore is more akin to Tao in Chinese - the natural way and will of the universe, whose character one's intuition must discern to realise the potential for individual wisdom and freedom from worldly suffering.
Charhdi kala in Punjabi translates to "ascending energy" and is more commonly described in English as positive attitude or being in 'high spirits'. This concept is fundamental to Sikh philosophy as an invitation to maintain a state of resilience and optimism, even in the face of adversity and suffering.
This isn't about denial or other manifestations of toxic positivity, but really what in modern terms we might call being solution-focused or nurturing a growth mindset.
I also find great synergy with this concept and an excerpt from one of my favourite books, The Way of the Peaceful Warrior by Dan Millman:
“Pain is a relatively objective, physical phenomenon; suffering is our psychological resistance to what happens. Events may create physical pain, but they do not in themselves create suffering. Resistance creates suffering. Stress happens when your mind resists what is... The only problem in your life is your mind's resistance to life as it unfolds.”
Easier said than done
Like many others of my generation, I have moments of struggling with all this. My cynicism of the history I'm privy to and awareness of world events around me also invoke me to say, "Easier said than done. What about the divine will when it comes to genocide as Sikhs themselves have suffered on multiple occasions? Or what's happening in Gaza and Palestine right now, or the freaking holocaust!?"
Well, since my last post, I went to Oświęcim, a city in the province of South Poland, more famously known by its German name: Auschwitz. On the morning of my birthday, visiting the former concentration camps, where it's estimated 1.3 million people were imprisoned and 1.1 million died, definitely had an impact.
I'll admit, the experience moves different people differently, perhaps depending on the depth of your connection to the place and history, and I didn't feel like it hit me in the way I saw other visitors visibly impacted by their pilgrimage.
That said, amongst other emotions and thoughts, it did make me also think of the 'charhdi kala' philosophy and wishing for 'sarbat da bhala'. Before you get out your metaphorical pitchforks and damn me for trying to overlay positivity on the Holocaust, allow me to explain my reflection with the help of someone far more qualified.
“Everything can be taken from a man but one thing: the last of the human freedoms—to choose one’s attitude in any given set of circumstances, to choose one’s own way.”
These are words from Man's Search for Meaning, written by Victor E. Frankl, a renowned psychiatrist and Holocaust survivor.
There are criticisms of Viktor Frankl that call for a grain of salt too, but I'll save going down that rabbit hole for another time. The point is that Viktor Frankl's philosophy revolves around the concept of finding meaning in life, even in the most challenging circumstances. He advocates for a positive attitude towards life's struggles and emphasises the importance of looking beyond oneself to find deeper purpose and meaning.
I thought about this during my visit to Oświęcim. And I thought of Dan Millman’s distinction between pain and suffering. And I thought about Stoicism. And many other things. And I thought of my wish for charhdi kala and sarbat da bhala.
The essence of all of these philosophical perspectives and meditating on them, for me, comes down to something I find to be more practically useful. And I haven’t gotten to the story I promised yet.
Celebrating gratitude
Okay, so that story.
Flash-forward a few days and it’s a somewhat wet and very cold and dreary evening in Helsinki. It’s a wonderful city with a lot to appreciate, but as we’re stumbling back towards our accommodation, do you think I was thinking about Nazi concentration camps and how blessed I am in contrast? Nope.
I was thinking, “My goodness it’s a lot colder here than I thought it would be!” and “Wow, I thought I was prepared for how much more expensive Scandinavia is but oh boy!” and “How can we find a cosy bar or cafe at this time for a warm drink without too much more walking because my feet are so sore?”
Don’t get me wrong, I wasn’t nagging about these things and the volume of these thoughts was turned down quite low. Nonetheless, these were the kinds of thoughts and sentiments floating around on the surface of my consciousness.
Suddenly, just as we’re about to cross a dark intersection, a shadowy figure walking from the adjacent street moves closer. As they step into more light it becomes apparent that this is a Sikh man, wearing a turban, a long flowing beard and even traditional Punjabi clothes under his European winter jacket. I change direction and instinctively start walking towards him, offering him the full version of the Sikh greeting.
The lovely man warmly greeted me back and asked if we were living in Helsinki. I explained we were visiting from Sydney and just in Helsinki for a couple of days before we head back home. He asked where we were staying and I told him, and asked him about himself.
He explained that he had only recently moved to Finland, just a few months ago, and was in another country in Europe before this. It was obvious that he had grown up in India and not in Europe. He had to leave and move to Helsinki, and he was still looking for work and hadn’t had any success.
His tone, demeaner and energy became notably sad. I asked him what he was doing beforehand and he shared a little more very superficially but then, as if catching himself mid-sentence from going down too negative a path, said, “Never mind that, please tell me about yourself, about your family.” Whilst I started to respond, this was now feeling a little awkward and it seemed he felt the intuition that he should move on and leave us to be on our way too.
Before parting ways he said, “I don’t really have a place here yet otherwise I’d definitely invite you to come home for some tea.”
And then before I could really process this emotional roller coaster of an interaction, he was gone.
I had so many questions rushing through my mind. What were the circumstances that led him to Europe in the first place? Why did he end up leaving where he was? Why did he come to Finland of all places, and how? Was he implying that he was staying with someone else or that he was actually homeless? Was he asking where we were staying because he needed some hospitality and should I have done more?
For a moment I felt sad and a little guilty, but very quickly I remembered something I had been thinking about over the past week. Something that all the philosophical concepts I mentioned earlier revolved around; a thought that followed me on my visit to Oświęcim and some other experiences I had on my travels so far.
In Punjabi, there is a phrase for expressing or giving thanks: shukar manawaan. This roughly means “I give thanks” but the word “manawaan” doesn’t mean “I give”. It means “I celebrate”. So really, there is this unique notion of not just giving or expressing thanks, but actually celebrating gratitude and appreciating something (or really life itself) with joyous enthusiasm.
So in that moment, once the acute pinch of sadness, guilt and doubt had passed, I brought my mind back to celebrating my gratitude, focusing on charhdi kala and wishing well for this nice man I briefly encountered.
Don’t get me wrong though, I’m not saying that “thoughts and prayers” is all we should ever resign to and fatalistically accept the horrors of history or the world. I’m also not suggesting that we always look at someone else’s suffering as a means to appreciate our own lives and uplift ourselves.
All of these philosophical concepts, including practically celebrating gratitude, remind me that life is a complex blend of preordained events and individual actions, and meditating on this with a default optimism in day to day struggles or in times of humanitarian crises like the Holocaust, is not about justifying or explaining away suffering but about finding a way to navigate through it. It's a form of spiritual resilience that can coexist with - and perhaps empower and embolden - a commitment to justice and action to prevent future suffering.
Next time I have such an interaction, I will do more. Rather than being seduced by the selfishness of any guilt of privilege, by cultivating a mindset of celebrating gratitude I will strengthen my charhdi kala and compassion for others, and use this to not just wish for sarbat da bhala, but do whatever I can for it.
Happy Diwali
In Hinduism, Diwali is a celebration of light triumphing over darkness and good over evil. It commemorates several events in Hindu mythology, most notably Lord Rama's return to Ayodhya after defeating the demon king Ravana, as narrated in the epic Ramayana. During Diwali, Hindus express gratitude to the deities for blessings received. The lighting of lamps, fireworks, and the sharing of sweets symbolise joy and thankfulness for life's blessings and the hope for a bright future – a literal embodiment of celebrating gratitude.
In Sikh history, Diwali holds a different significance, often referred to as Bandi Chhor Diwas (the day of liberation). It (although technically a few days before Diwali historically) marks the release of the Sixth Guru, Guru Hargobind, and 52 other kings from political imprisonment in 1619. The Golden Temple was lit with lamps to celebrate his return, a tradition that continues to this day. For Sikhs, this festival is a time to remember the Guru's teachings on freedom and justice, and to celebrate the gratitude for the Guru's courage and benevolence.
In both contexts, Diwali is a time of joy, reflection, and gratitude – a perfect opportunity to reflect on meaning, commit to charhdi kala, pray for the wellbeing of all humanity, and to celebrate gratitude.
I wish you and your family a very happy Diwali. And on this occasion, and even leading up to Christmas, let’s not only focus on the light, but also remember the attitude and actions many great people throughout history have demonstrated to overcome darkness for the wellbeing of those around them, and for the whole of humanity.