A Personal Take on My Current Life
It's Rare a Social Media Message Actually Forces Me to Think
Cruising Altitude
Right after I posted my 2023 Professional Achievements…
…a LinkedIn contact messaged me:
“Yes” is the short answer to his first two questions. Here’s the long answer to all three:
In the 1993 Seinfeld episode, “The Visa,” the same one in which Babu Bhatt is in the process of deportation back to Pakistan, George mocks Kramer’s decision to go to a baseball fantasy camp:
“Kramer goes to a fantasy camp. His whole life is a fantasy camp. People should plunk down two thousand dollars to live like him for a week. Do nothing, fall ass-backwards into money, mooch food off your neighbors, and have sex without dating.”
Earlier this month, I flew up to San Francisco in the AM and back to Los Angeles in the PM. Turned out I was a few hundred miles short of maintaining my Platinum status on Delta, so I departed, grabbed lunch with one of my best friends, Alok Bansal, and returned. During our midday meal, I declared…
“I’ve decided to live life.”
Jumping on how ridiculous this statement sounded, he reacted much like George: ~“What have you been doing? You left P&G 17 years ago and have been traveling the world as a professional comedian ever since.”
After we laughed our asses off, I unpacked my sentiment. What I meant was what I told my wife during our annual end-of-year State of the Relationship discussion:
“This is it, Harsha. We are where we are. We own our house here in Burbank, we’re never leaving, we aren’t having any more kids, and our son’s milestones are now how we mark time. Is this how you pictured your life to be? If not, what do you want to change? Because again: this is it. We’re at cruising altitude, my dear.”
Many of you know the impetus for my big 2006 move to California was turning 30 years old. It hit me like a thunderbolt and I vowed not to let another age milestone knock the wind out of me again. So, I took 40 in stride, and now I’m doing the same with 50, which is a mere two years and two months away.
To extend the flying analogy, when I first launched FunnyIndian.com, I was in startup mode, so I worked 14 hours a day, including weekends. My then-roommate, Hasan Minhaj, said he didn’t know anyone who worked harder, besides himself. I continued that pace till I was married at the age of 39, so it was nearly a decade of grinding. After marriage, I still logged around 11 hours a day, finally taking some weekend days off, but sometimes not, given my wife’s own busy (real) job. With the birth of my son, Naveen, I scaled back to nine hours every weekday with perhaps two hours here and there on the weekend. Finally, post-pandy, I’m doing more like seven hours a day.
Why have I cut back? I already told you. To live life. It’s insane that Naveen will already turn three next year. I haven’t missed out on it and I don’t intend to. I’ve also put a lot of my other interests on-hold as I’d focused 100% on comedy. When will I take those lessons in singing, dancing, and scratching? I need to start thinking about incorporating some hobbies that might, sure, make me a better performer, but will allow me to do some things simply because I want to do them.
Bhaskar Patel’s questions drive to the very heart of living our values. The reason my achievements make me happy is because I’ve done a lot of self-reflection. I ensure my goals are what I really do want, not what society or the community or Hollywood wants me to want. As such, I’ve long been able to project how much happier I’ll be at the destination — realizing the journey is the largest part — when I arrive at it.
His third question was more about the personal than the professional. He didn’t use it and I’m glad because I don’t love the phrase “work/life balance,” since they’re not equals nor are they opposites. Life is our holistic self; work is a subset of that. Moreover, it seems to imply we’re not alive when we’re working. Sadly, that’s the case for a lot of disgruntled employees, which is exactly why I launched Gruntled, the second newsletter of which will drop in January.
Make no mistake: you are your achievements. People will say you’re more than that, but you’re not. To be clear, I do mean your personal (“life”) as well as your professional (“work”). You are not your intentions. You are not your thoughts. You are the sum total of your actions. This is largely why I don’t read posts about regrets. I don’t really care about your regrets. Senior citizens will lament, “Oh, I should’ve traveled more.” How do you know that wouldn’t have made you more miserable? You don’t. You’re guessing at it. I want to do know about the things you did do that made you happy… the things you did do that made you unhappy… In Hollywood, they say, “Write what you know.” Exactly. Talk to me about what you know, and what you know is what you’ve lived. Nothing more.
Alright, then. Let’s do the Good and the Bad. It’ll probably start rather egotistical, but hey, I’ll take true ego over false humility. Here’s…
The Good: My 2023 Personal Achievements
1.
As long as I can remember, year in and year out, my biggest “achievement,” as it were, is the network of family and friends that I’ve carefully built and nurtured over the years. “Network” is too cold a word, but I’m grateful for the wonderful people around me. They say you’re the average of the five people with whom you spend the most time. And this has guided how I allocate my schedule. I have a reputation for bringing people together, hosting, connecting others, and going out of my way to ensure those around me are having a good time. I am very close to my parents, my brothers, my wife, and my son. It takes a lot of effort to bridge the gap in distance and lifestyles. And I’ve done it. I’m constantly checking in to see how I could do better (see “State of the Relationship” above), and I’m proud to say I’ve left no stone unturned when it comes to playing my roles as a son, brother, husband, and father. I give 100% everyday. (As an engineer, I still don’t know what 110% is.) Does that mean I’m perfect? Of course not. But I know in my heart of hearts that I’m doing everything I can. And far more importantly, they’d all agree. Because I’ve asked.
2.
My wife and I have it together. That’s no small feat. We’re good at running our lives, our household, our social calendar. We’re on top of it. We do everything we can for our son and each other and it shows. We communicate well and resolve conflict quickly. Is it all smooth sailing? Nope. But we’re an incredible team. And I don’t mean to rob my accomplishments of their shine by being overly comparative, but I see how a lot of people are and I’m astonished at how bad they are at managing life. Like, what’s wrong with you? I’m just as neurotic and we’re just as busy as anyone, but it doesn’t seem anyone does it better than we do.
3.
It might sound odd to say a list of achievements is in and of itself an achievement, but it is. I’ve already chalked out where I want to be at the end of 2024 and 2025. I used to publish my next year’s goals, but I don’t anymore because I know for a fact that at least a couple competitors were stealing my ideas. For 2024, suffice it to say that my primary focus is on Gruntled. I’m also releasing two standup comedy specials, finalizing a TV pilot and a writing packet, and pitching a podcast series. As I tend to say, I’m poised to go on a run. I’ve gone on a run only twice. And really only once. And what I mean by “on a run” is that all cylinders are firing at once: spiritual, emotional, mental, and physical. As my friend, Sachin Waikar, and I say, to be happy, you need the 5 Fs: faith, family, friends, finances, and well, what’s another F-word that comes to mind?
When were these runs? Sad to say I peaked in high school, but my sophomore year was insane: I got As in every class, I was elected Class President, I got chosen as the sole HOBY representative out of 500 students, etc. But the huge miss for me, if you’ve seen my first solo show, is that I was awful at dating. So, I was entirely unfulfilled in that aspect. So, the only real run was 2003: I co-led Branded Entertainment across all brands in North America for P&G, dated the prettiest woman in Cincinnati, and maintained incredible relationships with family and friends. Sure, there are always challenges, but it felt like, for months: I. Couldn’t. Miss.
To prepare for a 2024 run, I spent the last two months clearing out a lot of stuff so that I can hyper-focus on the projects above. Yeah, six things is real hyper-focused there, huh? Fortunately, I have teams and am already far down the pike on each one. I’m ready for it. L. F. G. Oh, and I’m now married to the most beautiful woman in the world.
4.
As of today, I’ve run another perfect Year of the Hustle. It’s a list of 20+ things I do every single day. The list is longer than this but it incorporates…
Spiritual: consciously breathe thrice, meditate for 20 minutes, say my mantra, do yoga, read my quotes, pray, and write in my gratitude journal.
Emotional: My wife and I threw a 100-person birthday party for when Naveen turned two. I helped my Mom execute a great 75-year-old birthday party in Cincinnati. Both my wife and I came out unscathed from our State of the Relationship discussion.
Mental: I ensure I read 10 pages of a book and write for 30 minutes. In 2023, I added to “read a book a month” the idea of “read 10 pages a day.” The problem is that I was delaying till about the 20th of every month and then cramming to finish. Technically, I was reading a book monthly, but this didn’t sit well as I was violating what felt like the spirit of the law. Now, I read everyday. And I write everyday, which means that, for at least half an hour a day, and usually much longer, I feel like a comedian. I’m doing something in my field. I’ve now gotten so good at my craft that I can write a lot of quality material quickly. Though I’m kinda realizing how I probably needed more jokes in this post.
Physical: I eat five servings of fruits and veggies, drink 64 ounces of water, practice eight-hour intermittent fasting (eat only between 10:30 AM and 6:30 PM), and work out. Four weeks ago, I joined 24 Hour Fitness. I hadn’t been to the gym in 15 years, instead opting to do 100 sit-ups, 50 push-ups, and 20 minutes of cardio at home. It’s easier at a fitness center. And perhaps most importantly, my vital signs are generally very good.
The Bad
OK, now that you’ve probably gagged from all that bragging, let me get real with you. You know what? No. That was all real, too. Let me get vulnerable with you. Here’s what worries me.
1.
It’s tough to parse skill from luck. Things have not come easy for me, but there’s no doubt that in the macro sense, I’m very lucky. It scares most of us even to write that for fear of jinxing ourselves. As the old quote goes…
“Those who know don’t say. Those who say don’t know.”
Such is the ironic nature of the self. Like most people, I worry about something terrible happening. I certainly don’t fixate on it; I’d say it’s probably a healthy amount of anxiety. But as a God-fearing individual, I pray that my luck continues and am well-aware things can turn at any point for anybody.
2.
As we enter 2024, we face some serious headwinds. On the personal level, all four of our parents are aging. They’re all either in or approaching their 80s. It’s extremely difficult to watch and we’re cherishing every moment we have.
3.
On a country level, 2024 is probably going to be the worst year in this country’s history since the first Civil War. I’m betting worse than 1968 and even worse than 2020. In 2014 — before Donald Trump even hit the national radar as a candidate — I predicted we had seven to 10 years before the collapse of the nation. Why? Ferguson. When military-style tanks rolled down the streets of a fairly minor American city, it felt different. And that was under a left-of-center (though not liberal) Democrat. “Collapse” is a major word to use and elusive to define, though The Atlantic did its best.
If Joe Biden wins, there is virtually no doubt in my mind that Trump’s supporters will engage in a full-on sequel to the Civil War that’ll make January 6, 2021, look like a picnic. If Trump wins, then my prediction will be slightly premature: it’ll take about another year for it to happen as we descend into an authoritarian state. Either way, my decade-old prediction is almost certainly going to become true; many believe we’re already in a low-grade civil war. This is what it feels like.
For my part — and this’ll be a shock to many as I haven’t stated it publicly — my current plan is to vote for neither one. I cannot in good conscience cast a ballot for the barely-coherent Biden and I live in a constant state of dismay that he and the Democrats did not develop at least a few good candidates to take on Trump: though we needed to see how their campaigns operated on a national level, I was all-in to see what Michigan Governor Gretchen Whitmer or California Governor Gavin Newsom or Transportation Secretary Pete Buttigieg would do. The ironic part is that any other Republican would handily defeat Biden and any other Democrat would do the same to Trump. I know we’re offered up two options, but I feel like Carla Jean at the end of this millennium’s greatest film: “The coin’s got no say.” I’m not gonna call it.
4.
As long as I can remember, my life has been filled with conflict. It’s probably because I am truly a real-life Larry David. As do many comedians, I live askew to society and this askance angle leads to a lot of tension. The difference with me is that I’m a 10-0 Myers-Briggs extravert, so I like interacting with a lot of people. But it’s getting more difficult. Is that my own age? That’s likely part of it. And yet, something else going on, especially post-pandy. Many people have forgotten the basic decencies and courtesies that have long defined this American life. I struggle with people’s lack of text responses, last-minute cancellations, and general selfishness.
5.
They say the more introspection you do, the more lost you get. At a certain point, you have to stick a pin in it and be done for now. Revisit continually. But not continuously. The most frightening part is the things we miss even after trying to consider everything that might happen. So, at the most basic level, when people ask me how I’m doing, I think I’m doing well. But am I really falling apart or headed for a fall that I can’t see coming? It’s like the old analogy of a leaning tree: it’s been leaning for so long that maybe it’ll never fall. But with each passing day, the probability of exactly such an event only increases. Am I that tree?
6.
My vital signs are mostly good. But despite a doctor-approved diet and exercise plan, my bad cholesterol remains a bit high. It’s tough to fight genetics. In fact, this year, my 48th on this planet, is the first one during which I’ve started to feel the signs of aging. Most of my friends say I’m very lucky to have made it this far. But my back locks up from time to time. I have a lot of indigestion. I’m now lactose-intolerant. My migraines have increased in frequency (though they’ve decreased in intensity) from twice a year to once a month. My memory isn’t as good as it was even a couple of years ago. I’m still the world’s best driver, since all males are required to believe that, but I’ve lost a step. Loud noises annoy me much more than they used to; though I still love going out a couple times a week, a lot of the time around the house, I want some peace and quiet. That’s definitely different for me.
7.
The conceit of the self often breaks into the I vs. the me. The I (the superego) is the noble part of us whereas the me (the id) is the part that gives into cravings. My Dad has long prided himself on “not being a slave to anything,” whether that’s a drink or a cup of tea. And that’s largely true. But I’m afraid of becoming a creature of habits: alcohol, caffeine, porn, anything addictive. You yearn with the soul and crave with the body. I’m fine to yearn. But this past year, I tried giving up various things for a month at a time. For 2024, I truly want to see how many days I can go without…
Alcohol: I’m doing Dry January for the tenth or so time. I’m gonna see how long I can go. But even for the big social events I have planned (Vegas in February for a friend’s 50th… my birthday party in March… my 30-Year High School Reunion), I came up with an idea so I don’t overindulge: drink the night of the event and the next night. That way, I can hold back a little and not go hog wild for a few hours. It’s also why I start Dry January on Jan 2.
Wrath: This has long been my burden. Solve this and I honestly have a shot at nirvana. Fail and rebirth it is. Earlier this year, I’d almost thrown in the towel. But I hit rock-bottom with it in October. Without providing details, let’s say that I lost it. However, the upside is that might’ve been the turning point. I’ve devised a solution: in addition to keeping an anger journal, which I’ve been doing for years, I’m counting down from 100. Every time I’m about to display undue anger and I beat the craving, I take the number down one. When I display undue anger, it goes up one. Today, I’m at 84. What will I do for myself? I don’t know but it’s probably gonna be expensive. And more importantly, I’m finally hopeful.
Speaking of money, since my early 20s, I’ve had a number I’ve wanted to hit for an annual income for myself and a household income for my family. The pandemic did a number on my earnings. And I know that I’ll never truly be happy till I hit that number. Stop with the “isn’t that putting happiness on hold till you reach your destination?” Yes, but I also told you I know how much happier I’ll be once I’m there. And most importantly, like Jonah Hill says to Brad Pitt in Moneyball: “You’re not doing it for the money…. you’re doing it for what the money says.” And the reality is that, even though I have a solid reputation, respect from my peers, blah blah blah, until I’m paid what I’m worth, how could I truly be fulfilled? And even more importantly, I need to provide for my son. And that’s all the incentive I need.
Smack Talk: Some of this is jealousy but some of it is because it feels good as someone who’s good at coming up with insults. It’s not nice, though. I need to continue to embrace an abundance mentality, not a scarcity mentality. There’s enough to go around and I shouldn’t speak ill of others, unless by doing so, I’m doing some good.
Politics: That leads me back to what I wrote above regarding the 2024 election. I’m not saying all that to be negative. I’m being realistic. As I joked with and cracked up the actor Danny Pudi when he appeared on my talk show (episode coming soon), ~“I was born an optimist but I’ve learned to become a pessimist.” For years, as part of the Year of the Hustle, I’ve read five news articles a day from various sources. No more. I’m hooked on doom-scrolling and I need to cut it out.
Gluttony: I’m certainly not a glutton, but can I truly stick to intermittent fasting all year?
Finances: Every week, I write down our assets and liabilities (balance sheet). But what I’ve avoided doing is actually tracking our expenses (income statement, cash flow statement). I haven’t balanced my checkbook since my 20s. And that needs to change.
Conclusion
I’ll end with two very real (and vulnerable) thoughts:
1.
The thorn in my side, despite all of my accomplishments and beyond all the desire for money, is that I don’t matter to the national conversation. The fact that I made a video seen around the world 100 million times means so much to me. It’s something most artists will never achieve: that something you made actually resonated deeply in people’s souls. And I know that trying to live life — a full life — isn’t the formula if you want to go to the top of your profession. Most, if not all, of those folks neglect their personal relationships and are wildly out of balance. As Andre Agassi said, “I’d rather miss out on a little bit of tennis than a little bit of life.”
But I have a lot to say, and by now, I would’ve thought I would’ve been regularly appearing on shows and podcasts simply because people want to hear Rajiv’s Take. Until they do, I cannot reasonably call myself successful. I am, after all, a social commentator. I want my opinion to count. I want my voice to be heard. I want to matter.
2023 was a year of aggression for me. I vowed to not take much shit from people and I fought them on all points all the time. How’d that work out? Actually pretty well. I got most of what I wanted by demanding it. But respect is better commanded than demanded. As such, 2024 will be the year of acceptance. I’ve had it good, and if I want to achieve the lofty objectives and goals I’ve laid out for myself, I need to do it in good faith. If my topic is Gruntled… if I’m gonna discuss Happiness… then I need to do it happily.
2.
Hindus believe in four cycles for this world. Satyug is the best one, when things are great. We’re in kalyug, the worst one. (No kidding, huh?) But here’s the thing: it’s easy to be good when things are good for everyone. It’s hard to be good when things aren’t so good for everyone. I want to be that beacon of hope for people… to emit light, not heat.
So, I’ll end by thanking Bhaskar Patel for his questions. And with one of the quotes I read daily — and not because I’m an alcoholic… #DryJanuary…
God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change,
the courage to change the things I can,
and the wisdom to know the difference.
Rajiv Satyal is a comedian. A pretty serious one, apparently. He resides in Los Angeles, California.