Saturday, November 29, 2025

Lessons from the Monk Mindset: Finding Peace in a Chaotic World


I recently finished reading "Think Like a Monk" by Jay Shetty, and it's one of those books that doesn't just sit on your shelf after you're done—it stays with you, quietly reshaping how you see the world. What struck me most wasn't the promise of some distant enlightenment, but the practical wisdom about living intentionally right now, in the midst of our messy, distracted lives.

The Perception Trap

There's a quote from sociologist Charles Horton Cooley that Shetty shares: "I am not what I think I am, and I am not what you think I am. I am what I think you think I am." Reading this felt like someone had turned on a light in a room I didn't even know was dark.

We're not living our own lives—we're living in a perception of a perception of ourselves. We've become so caught up chasing what we think others expect from us that we've lost touch with who we actually are. The first step toward change, Shetty suggests, is recognizing and filtering out the noise of external influences.

The Time Audit: Where Your Life Actually Goes

One exercise that hit differently was the time audit. Shetty recommends spending a week tracking how you divide your time between family, friends, health, and self. The uncomfortable truth? The areas where you spend the most time should match what you value most—but for most of us, they don't.

I tried this myself, and the gap between what I said I valued and where my hours actually went was sobering. It's easy to claim that family is your top priority while spending 60 hours a week at work and scrolling through social media during dinner.

The Contagion of Negativity

Here's something I never really considered: negativity is contagious. Studies show that negativity can increase aggression toward random, uninvolved people. Think about that—your bad mood doesn't just affect you; it ripples outward, touching people who have nothing to do with whatever upset you.

Shetty's approach is simple but powerful: surround yourself with people who are better than you in some way—happier, more spiritual, more grounded. Aim for at least 75 percent of your time to be spent with people who inspire you rather than drain you.

Fear: The Attachment Problem

The book describes fear as rooted in attachment, with detachment as its cure. This isn't about becoming cold or uncaring—it's about understanding that all things are temporary and we can't truly own or control anything. When we accept this, we can fully appreciate what we have without the constant anxiety of losing it.

As Seneca observed, "Our fears are more numerous than our dangers, and we suffer more in our imagination than reality." Most of our suffering happens in the "what if" rather than the "what is."

The Morning Routine Revolution

One of the most practical sections deals with morning routines. Shetty makes a compelling case: looking at your phone first thing in the morning is like inviting one hundred chatty strangers into your bedroom before you've even brushed your teeth.

His recommended morning practice is simple:

  • Thankfulness: Express gratitude to someone, someplace, or something every day
  • Mindfulness: Start your day with intention, not reaction
  • Simplification: Reduce morning decisions so you're not wasting energy on what to wear or eat

The emotion you fall asleep with at night is most likely the emotion you'll wake up with in the morning. End your day with intention, too.

Location Has Energy, Time Has Memory

This concept fascinated me: when you do something at the same time every day, that time keeps the memory for you. It becomes easier and natural. This is why routines aren't restrictive—they're liberating. As Kobe Bryant noted, "A lot of the time, creativity comes from structure."

Monks use routines of time and location throughout the day. The two hours spent meditating support the other twenty-two hours of the day.

Being Present: The Ultimate Practice

"Being present is the only way to live a truly rich and full life." It sounds simple, but how often are we actually present? We're eating while scrolling, talking while thinking about what to say next, living while already worrying about tomorrow.

The monk practice of "chewing your drinks and drinking your food" is about doing familiar things with complete awareness. It's about taking an ordinary moment and finding new ways to appreciate it.

You Can't Be Anything You Want—But You Can Be Everything You Are

This reframing stuck with me. We're told we can be anything we want, which is both inspiring and paralyzing. The truth is more grounded: you can't be anything you want, but you can be everything you are.

As Steve Jobs said, "Your time is limited, so don't waste it living someone else's life." Instead of focusing on weaknesses, lean into your strengths and find ways to make them central in your life.

The Practice of Questions Over Answers

Most people are accustomed to looking for answers. Monks focus on questions. When you're trying to understand what you really want, dig to the deepest why behind the want. Every answer provokes deeper questions. Keep asking why until you reach the core.

Start Small, Stay Consistent

The book's final piece of advice might be the most important: pick one thing to change, make it your number one priority, and see it through before you move on to the next. We often fail not because we lack motivation, but because we try to change everything at once.


Reading "Think Like a Monk" reminded me that transformation doesn't require leaving civilization and meditating in a cave for years. It requires bringing that meditative mindset into our everyday lives—being present at dinner, breathing deeply before reacting, questioning whether our time reflects our values.

The monk mindset isn't about perfection. It's about progress, awareness, and the courage to live intentionally in a world designed to keep us distracted. As the Dalai Lama says, "Every day, think as you wake up, today I am fortunate to be alive, I have a precious human life, I am not going to waste it."

Neither should we.

Tuesday, November 4, 2025

The Midnight Cry

 




The Midnight Cry



It was around 2:30 in the morning when the silence broke. A sharp, helpless cry pierced through the night — a pup, screaming in pain. We thought it would stop after a while, but when morning came, the cry hadn’t faded. By 10:30 am, it was still there, echoing through the walls, haunting in its persistence.

That’s when G3 decided enough was enough. She went down, found the poor soul, and took charge. Soon, I joined with my father-in-law and Barfi. Together, we carried the little one to the nearby vet. The doctor was gentle but direct — “The survival chances are fifty-fifty.” A pause. “Let’s try.”

She started the IV drip, gave antibiotics, and for a moment, the pup seemed calm. But the doc added a word of caution — if there’s even a hint of rabies, we mustn’t touch the wound barehanded.

So, with all the care we could muster, we brought the pup back and placed it near the watchman’s shed — a small, shaded corner that felt safe. G3’s been reaching out to rescue homes since then, determined as always.

And just like that, my entire first half of the day went to that tiny creature’s fight for life. Sometimes, the day chooses you — and this one did, through a cry in the dark.