Mastering the Mind

 

Individuals of true mental fortitude no longer seem as visible or as frequently encountered as they once were—or perhaps their strength simply does not reveal itself as often. There was a time when merely witnessing such resilience would, almost effortlessly, bring a sense of calm to the mind. Today, however, meaningful and deeply engaging conversations have become a rarity. Such conversations do not occur by chance; they must be consciously cultivated. They require the presence of perceptive, experienced individuals, a setting that encourages openness, and a community that genuinely values such exchanges. Regrettably, as a society, we appear to be steadily losing our inclination to appreciate such people.

I continue to regard newspapers as vital to the fabric of social life. They bring to us even the most ordinary yet significant happenings around us. They host columns that interpret the science embedded in everyday living, and they provide a platform where voices from older generations continue to express their reflections. In contrast, the content we consume through mobile devices and computers seldom carries these seasoned perspectives. An overreliance on such mediums deprives us of a valuable and nuanced worldview.

We are frequently confronted with reports of moral decline among individuals in the public and social spheres. Social media, by its very design, amplifies such narratives and presents them to us with relentless intensity. I make a conscious effort to look past these. Such incidents are not unprecedented; it is merely their magnification that is new. This is not an attempt to defend wrongdoing—but rather to acknowledge that life contains far deeper and more profound forms of suffering, which often go unnoticed or fail to evoke our concern.

At the same time, we encounter countless individuals who confront the struggles of daily life with quiet resilience and without complaint. Consider the vegetable vendors who board the 4 a.m. train from Safale–Kelwa to arrive in Borivali by 7 a.m., carrying fresh produce. Among them is a woman in her seventies. I have never once seen her complain about the cold, the rain, or the harsh afternoon sun.

We would do well to concern ourselves only with what lies within our control, and not expend emotional energy on what does not. We should seek the company of those who uplift us, engage in activities that bring us contentment (within the bounds of social harmony), visit places that rejuvenate us, and consume what nurtures both body and mind. Equally important is expressing our appreciation to those who bring joy into our lives.

Beyond a certain point, one must relinquish excessive concern for self-image. When faced with a choice between preserving appearances and nurturing inner happiness, it is wiser to favour the latter. The one guiding principle, however, must remain: our pursuit of happiness should never become the cause of another’s suffering. An awareness of the impact of our actions on others is the essence of true social consciousness.

Often, it is the simplest of practices that help steady a mind inclined toward negativity. Rising early, bathing, offering prayers, or quietly remembering the divine can restore inner balance. Those who live in close communion with nature are richly sustained by it—it gently safeguards their inner well-being. The growing detachment from nature in our urban lives, however, remains a cause for concern. Simple, wholesome meals—dal-rice, vegetables, chapati (and modest non-vegetarian fare, if one chooses), along with eating early and in moderation—also contribute significantly to a serene state of mind.

For those constantly immersed in technology and tethered to their phones, the mind often remains distanced from its natural state of calm. Deprived of adequate rest, it risks becoming restless and unanchored.

Even after writing this, there is no assurance that I will succeed in keeping my mind calm tomorrow. Yet, this reflection serves as a quiet reassurance—that a restless mind is not a permanent state. As circumstances evolve, I shall be able to regain mastery over it once again. Perhaps, that renewed sense of faith is the true purpose of this piece.

(The photograph accompanying this post was taken in December at a colleague’s farm in Nalasopara. Visits to such places leave a lasting imprint of calm on the mind.)