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When a “No” Is Not Rejection: How We Complicate Love Between Parents and Children In relationships, especially within families, a simple “no” often becomes something far heavier than it is. When someone says no to our request, we unconsciously hear:“No to me.”Not no to the request, not no to the situation, but no to my worth, my importance, my place in your life. This misunderstanding has quietly complicated many of my relationships—until two deeply personal experiences forced me to pause and reflect. A Son Growing Into Himself My son is stepping into adulthood, and recently I noticed a change in him.To me, it felt like distance. To him, it was dignity. One day, he said something that stayed with me: “I feel uncomfortable asking you for money. Many times you say I am spending too much. I have my self-respect. I feel I should earn for my basic needs.” I was surprised—almost shaken. Not because he wanted to earn, but because he felt asking me was somehow diminishing himself. This reaction came from a place I never had to experience at his age. I grew up in a different time, with different parenting, and perhaps more unspoken assumptions. My immediate response was emotional. I felt disconnected. I felt troubled. I wondered—where did I fail? The Mirror of My Parents As I reflected, my parents came to mind. When they grew older and could no longer earn, they rarely asked us for money—especially my mother. She believed asking was disrespectful. She expected us to understand their needs and offer support without being asked. I remember questioning her once: “Why don’t you ask when you need money?” Her response was simple, but powerful. Asking felt like a loss of dignity. And suddenly, I saw the same emotion expressed by my son—across generations, across roles. Different circumstances.Same inner voice. A Realisation That Changed Everything During a conversation with a trusted acquaintance, I heard something that stopped me in my tracks: “We don’t suffer because of situations. We suffer because we overthink them.” That was it. When my son hears my no, it is not a no to him—it is a no to that particular need, at that particular moment. When my mother didn’t ask for money and I didn’t offer, it was not her rejecting support—it was simply me not noticing. Yet in both cases, we silently converted these moments into judgments about self-worth, respect, and love. How We Turn Relationships Into Transactions Somewhere along the way, we unknowingly started treating relationships like transactions: If I ask and you say no, I am less valued. If I depend on you, I lose my dignity. If I give too much, I will be taken for granted. These thoughts introduce ego, expectation, and accounting into relationships that were never meant to carry such weight. Especially between parents and children. Should Self-Respect Exist in Parent–Child Relationships? This is a difficult question. Self-respect is essential in life—but does it need to sit between parents and children? I personally feel that the parent–child bond is meant to be unconditional, not contractual. When ego enters this space, love begins to negotiate instead of flow. A child should not feel smaller for asking.A parent should not feel judged for setting boundaries.An aging parent should not feel invisible for not asking.A grown child should not feel guilty for missing a signal. None of this is rejection.None of this is disrespect. It is simply human imperfection meeting unspoken expectations. The Cost of Overthinking Love Many times in my life, when someone said no to my request, I carried it as a rejection of me. I replayed conversations. I added meanings that were never intended. I complicated my inner world—and with it, my relationships. But the truth is simple: A no is often just a response to a moment, not a verdict on a relationship. When we stop personalising every response, life becomes lighter.When we stop measuring love, it becomes deeper. Choosing Simplicity Over Stories Relationships suffer not because love is absent, but because stories multiply in silence. What if we chose a different lens? What if a no was just a no? What if asking was not weakness? What if giving was not obligation? What if love didn’t need proof? I am still learning. Still unlearning. Still observing myself as a parent, a son, and a human being. But one thing is clear now: We complicate life not because it is complex—but because we overthink love. And perhaps the greatest gift we can offer our children—and our parents—is not money, not advice, not perfection—but presence without ego, and love without accounting.

Don’t Confuse Your Children In my previous article addressed to young people, I shared a simple yet uncomfortable message: “Don’t convince your parents.”That message came from listening deeply to many young minds who are confused, anxious, and emotionally exhausted—not because they lack capability, but because they feel unheard. This article is the other side of that same conversation.This one is for parents. When Love Quietly Turns Into Control Most parents love their children deeply.That love is genuine. That intention is pure. Yet, somewhere along the way, love quietly transforms into control, and concern slowly becomes imposition. As parents, we often believe—consciously or unconsciously—that our children are an extension of us.That because we gave them life, we also have the right to decide how that life should be lived. We tell ourselves: “I know what is best for my child.” “I have seen the world; they have not.” “If I don’t push them, they will fail.” And from this belief, we begin to direct, demand, and sometimes dictate. The Child’s Silent Struggle What many parents do not see is what happens inside the child during this process. When a teenager or a growing adult tries to express a different thought, a different aspiration, or a different dream—and is immediately dismissed, corrected, or judged—the child does not suddenly become wise or disciplined. Instead, one of three things usually happens: They develop self-doubtThey begin to question their own intelligence, intuition, and capability.“Maybe I am not smart enough.”“Maybe I don’t know what I want.” They become aggressive or rebelliousNot because they are irresponsible, but because they feel trapped and unheard. They shut down completelyThey stop trying.They stop sharing.They stop dreaming out loud. And the most painful part?They often carry this confusion alone. When Listening Is Replaced With Labelling Many parents, without realizing it, label their children when they don’t agree: “You are immature.” “You don’t understand the real world.” “You are being disrespectful.” But disagreement is not disrespect.Questioning is not incompetence.Silence is not clarity. When children sense that opening up will only invite criticism or emotional drama, they stop opening up altogether. And that is where confusion begins. Guidance Is Not the Same as Direction There is a profound difference between guiding a child and directing a child. Direction says: “Do this because I said so.” Guidance says: “Help me understand what you are thinking.” Children do not need parents to design their lives.They need parents who can hold space while they figure life out. They don’t need answers all the time.They need listening. The Cost of Confusion A confused child often grows into: An adult who is afraid to make decisions A professional who constantly seeks approval A human being disconnected from what they truly love And none of this comes from lack of talent.It comes from years of not being trusted to think. A Simple Shift for Parents If there is one shift parents can make, it is this: Move from “I know what is right for you”to“Help me understand what feels right to you.” Listening does not mean agreeing.It means respecting the child as a thinking human being. Your role is not to live life for them.Your role is to walk with them—especially when they are unsure. Closing Thought When young people are told, “Don’t convince your parents,” it is not rebellion.It is exhaustion. And when parents learn to listen instead of impose, something beautiful happens: Confusion reduces Trust increases Conversations deepen Children don’t need perfect parents.They need present parents. Parents who listen. Parents who trust. Parents who don’t confuse them while trying to protect them.

Don’t Convince Your Parents Over the last few years, there is one statement I have repeatedly shared with teenagers and young adults during my coaching conversations: “Don’t convince your parents.” At first, this sounds counterintuitive—almost rebellious. Most young people assume their biggest challenge is making their parents understand them. But deeper conversations reveal a different truth altogether. Recently, one of my coachees came to me (early 20s) completely overwhelmed.He said he was confused about life, distracted by social media, unable to focus on his career, and constantly stressed. When we went deeper, two things became very clear: He was not focused on what he truly wanted to achieve. He was equally disconnected from what his parents were asking him to do. When I asked him why he thought this was happening, his answer was familiar: “My parents don’t support me. They don’t understand me.” This belief “my parents are the problem” is where many young people get stuck. How Parents Actually Operate Most parents, across cultures and countries, operate from a single dominant mindset: protection. Parents love deeply.Parents worry constantly.Parents want stability, safety, and predictability for their children. Because of their own life experiences, struggles, and insecurities, many parents believe they are responsible for deciding the “right” career path for their children. They recommend careers they understand, careers they believe will prevent hardship, careers that promise a steady income and social security. Their intention is rarely control.Their intention is safety. But intention alone does not build a meaningful life. The Hard Truth Parents and Children Must Accept Here is the reality most people avoid acknowledging: Parents can influence your life only until you are dependent on them. As children grow into young adults, and eventually into independent individuals, they will end up doing what they truly want to do whether consciously or unconsciously. If a person suppresses their own aspirations for years to please others, the frustration does not disappear. It resurfaces later—often as regret, burnout, anger, or blame. This is why blaming parents makes no sense. At 24, 28, or 35, you are the one living your life.You are the one dealing with dissatisfaction.You are the one handling the consequences. Not your parents. Parents Are Not Responsible for Your Career This is an uncomfortable statement for many, but it must be said clearly: No one is responsible for your career except you. Not your parents.Not your teachers.Not society. Responsibility begins the moment awareness begins. The problem with many young people is not parental pressure it is the absence of ownership. Many expect parents to approve first, support first, or understand first before they take action. That sequence is flawed. Don’t Convince Your Parents. Give Them Confidence. Convincing parents through arguments rarely works.Persuasion through emotional appeals rarely lasts. What parents respond to is confidence. And confidence is not built through words.Confidence is built through action. When you take responsibility for your learning When you show discipline in your routine When you demonstrate progress, however small When your actions reflect seriousness, not confusion Parents begin to listen. Parents begin to trust. Parents begin to stand with you. Not immediately.Not easily.But gradually. Responsibility Comes Before Freedom Most young people want freedom without responsibility. But life works in the opposite direction. Freedom is earned through responsibility. If you want your parents to trust your decisions: Own your choices Accept the risks Stop outsourcing blame Stop hiding behind distractions Stop waiting for validation You do not need your parents’ permission to grow up.You need your own commitment. Patience Is Part of the Journey Parents may take time to accept your path.They may resist.They may worry.They may question. That is natural. Your role is not to fight them.Your role is to stay consistent. Consistency builds credibility.Credibility builds confidence.Confidence changes conversations. A Message to Young People Don’t blame your parents.Don’t convince your parents. Take responsibility for your life.Take responsibility for your career.Show progress through action. When you do that, parents don’t need convincing. They need reassurance. And reassurance comes from who you are becoming—not what you are arguing for.

Trust Takes Time: A Founder’s Self-Reflection on Yes, Ownership, and Inner Conflict In the early days of building something meaningful, trust feels like a virtue you should practice generously. When people say, “I believe in what you’re building,” or “I’m happy to support,” it feels natural to open the door. You want to believe that shared intent will turn into shared responsibility. You want to move forward without becoming guarded or transactional. You want to stay human. That’s what I did. I trusted words.I trusted intent.I trusted presence. Over time, however, I began to notice a quiet pattern—one that didn’t show up as conflict with people, but as conflict within me. People were showing up.They stayed connected.They cared. Yet, when it came to alignment, continuity, and ownership, much of the responsibility still sat with me. Some waited to be told what to do.Some delivered what was convenient to them, not what the work needed.Some brought their own objectives and expected the system to stretch around them. None of this came from bad intent.But it led me to an uncomfortable question: Was I expecting too much—or trusting too early? The Inner Conflict of Every “Yes” I realized something important about myself. When I say yes, I rearrange my life.I learn what I don’t know.I reach back without being reminded. For me, yes means ownership. But I had unknowingly assumed that everyone’s yes carried the same meaning. For many, yes meant availability.For me, yes meant responsibility. The same word—two very different contracts. And because that contract was never spoken, I found myself in a constant inner negotiation: Should I remind or wait? Should I correct or accept? Should I lower expectations or carry more myself? In trying to honor every yes, I was slowly losing clarity—and peace. What I Learned About Trust This is where the real insight arrived, not as frustration, but as understanding: Trust is not built at the moment of agreement.Trust is built in what follows. Trust is not enthusiasm.It is consistency. Trust is not presence.It is follow-through. Trust is not saying, “Tell me what you want.”It is understanding what needs to be done and owning it. I wasn’t wrong to trust people.I was simply early. I had been extending trust faster than it was being formed. A Lesson to Myself This reflection is not about blaming people.It is about taking responsibility for how I design participation. I don’t need to close doors.I need to slow down what trust unlocks. Access must be gradual.Responsibility must be earned.Ownership must be demonstrated—not promised. Time is not an enemy here.Time is the filter. From now on, I remind myself of this simple truth: Trust is not who shows up once.Trust is who stays aligned without being chased. This realization hasn’t made me cynical.It has made me clearer. And clarity, I am learning, is the most respectful form of leadership—to myself, to the people around me, and to the work I am building. Trust takes time. And that is not a weakness—it is wisdom.

Relationships Are Mutual. Own Them Before You Lose Them There are two words that have the power to completely transform our relationships—Thank You and Sorry.We all know this.But very few of us practice it with the depth and sincerity our relationships deserve. Over the years, I’ve learned one fundamental truth about life: Every relationship is a mutual requirement. From a mother and child, husband and wife, friends, colleagues—even employer and employee—every bond exists because both sides need each other.No relationship in life survives on one-sided expectations. Yet we forget this simple truth. We assume relationships will stay.We assume people will understand.We assume love is automatic, presence is guaranteed, and connection is permanent. But relationships do not survive on assumptions.They survive on awareness, expression, and ownership. The Power of “Thank You” and “Sorry” These two words are not just words.They are emotions, felt only when they come from the heart. When we say “Thank you” genuinely, we acknowledge someone’s presence in our life. When we say “Sorry” sincerely, we accept our part in keeping the relationship clean and light. But here’s the deeper point: It is not enough to feel these emotions. We must express them. Express to your parents.Express to your partner.Express to your children.Express to your friends.Express to your colleagues. We often hold back because of ego, assumptions, or fear that vulnerability makes us weak.But vulnerability is not weakness.It is the highest form of connection. If someone cannot feel your genuine thank you or your sincere sorry, it only means one thing—they are not emotionally connected to you at that moment. And that is a signal, not criticism. It is a call to pause, reflect, and reconnect. Relationships Are Mutual — Not a One-Sided Expectation We often desire relationships deeply: We want someone to be available for us. We want someone to understand us. We want someone to prioritise us. But before expecting anything, we must ask: Are we taking a step forward too?Are we owning the relationship the way we want it to own us? Because relationships are not about “they should come to me.”They are about “I care enough to go to them.” When you value a relationship: You show up. You express. You apologise. You appreciate. You make yourself available. You take the first step. Not because you are weak.But because you know the value of what you are preserving. The Cost of Not Owning the Relationship The painful truth is this: If you don’t take the first step today, you may lose the relationship forever.And once lost, no amount of regret will bring it back. We often realise the importance of someone after they walk away.But maturity is recognising their value while they are still here. So, before it’s too late: Say thank you Say sorry Say what your heart wants to say Show that you care Take responsibility Take the first step Own the relationship while it still exists.Life is too short for assumptions and too precious for ego. Let’s Practice Deep Connection Let’s learn to express our heart—not half-heartedly, not occasionally—but with consistency. Let’s remember: Relationships are mutual Love is mutual Respect is mutual Effort is mutual You need them.They need you.Both matter. So today, take a moment.Think of one relationship that matters to you.And do the simplest, most powerful thing: Reach out.Express.Reconnect. Let’s own our relationships—before we lose what we cannot replace.

Why It’s Time You Drive Your Own Life Recently, I had a deep and honest conversation with a teenage girl and her father. She dreamed of becoming an Aeronautical Engineer her eyes lit up when she spoke about it. But her father, like many well-meaning parents, was worried. he asked. “What if there aren’t good job prospects?”  “What if it’s not the right field for a woman?” “What if she struggles?” Out of love (and a hidden layer of fear), he felt it was his duty to decide for her. He thought he was protecting her, but was he really? So I asked him gently:“Can you protect her forever? Or is it your greater responsibility to help her learn to stand up for herself?” He fell silent. That question made him think. The Hidden Cost of Letting Others Steer Now, let’s flip this to you — the teenager reading this. Ask yourself: Are you sitting in the passenger seat of your own life, letting someone else drive? Are you waiting for your parents, teachers, or friends to make your choices for you? Do you feel stuck, but secretly hope someone will come along and chart your course? If yes — I get it. It’s easy to feel that way. After all, it’s comfortable when someone else takes responsibility, isn’t it? But here’s the hard truth: If you let others drive, you’ll reach the destination they think is right for you — not the one you truly desire. Let me share another quick example. Why Parents Worry, And Why That’s Okay Your parents worry because they love you. They want the best for you, and sometimes, fear masks itself as love. They might be scared you’ll fail or struggle. But here’s the thing: their worry doesn’t mean you should give up your dreams. Instead, your job is to help them believe in your plan. Your Responsibility as a Teen Don’t just say, “I want to do this.” Show them why and how you’ll make it work. Research your path. Talk to people in the field. Build a plan. Help your parents see that you’re not just chasing a fantasy — you’re ready to take responsibility. When they see your confidence, they’ll start to believe in your vision too. What Happens When You Don’t Take Charge? If you don’t take the wheel: You may end up following a path that doesn’t fulfill you. You may blame others when things go wrong — but in truth, you gave away the power. You may keep waiting for someone else to choose for you — a partner, a boss, even your friends. And one day, you’ll look back and wonder: Why didn’t I just believe in myself sooner? So, What Can You Do Today? Reflect: What are your dreams? What’s stopping you from taking action? Communicate: Have an honest talk with your parents. Not just “I want this,” but “Here’s my plan, and here’s why I believe in it.” Own it: Remember — this is your life. If you want to build it your way, start driving today. Stay humble, stay open: Take advice, learn, and adjust — but don’t let fear (yours or others’) decide your future. Final Thought Your life is like a car. The world will try to put many people in your driving seat — but only you can truly steer it towards your dreams. Ask yourself:Am I in the driver’s seat of my life — or have I handed over the wheel? If the answer makes you pause — maybe today is the day to take charge. If this resonated with you, share this with a friend who needs to hear it — and remember, your journey starts with one brave choice.

The Silent Strength of Patience and Purpose There are moments in life when we feel things are not moving the way we expect. We give our best, we love deeply, we stay committed and yet, outcomes seem delayed. In these moments, we may wonder: Why is God silent? Why are my prayers not answered? But what I’ve come to learn from someone very dear to me is this: God’s plan is always at work even when we cannot see it. His delays are not His denials. A Journey of Quiet Faith I witnessed this through someone close to me who, through life’s many challenges, demonstrated what it means to live with patience, commitment, and grace. Despite difficulties, this person carried responsibilities with sincerity showing up every day, offering love, doing what was right, and trusting in God’s plan without complaint. For years, there was no visible reward, no instant result. But with unwavering faith, they kept walking the path. And then, at the right moment not when they wished, but when God willed life brought back what truly mattered. That reunion, that moment of pure joy, was a reminder: God’s plan was silently shaping a beautiful outcome all along. The Lessons That Touched My Heart Patience is PowerTrue strength lies not in controlling outcomes but in standing firm with grace while the universe unfolds its plan. Do Your Duty, Let Go of the RestIt’s not our job to force results. It’s our role to stay kind, responsible, and committed and trust that what is meant for us will come. Love Without Keeping ScoreThe love we give, the good we do, it all returns. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow but when the time is right. God’s Timing is Always RightWhat we see as delays are often divine preparations for us, and for those we love. Action Steps to Live Aligned with God’s Plan Pause and Reflect: When things feel slow, ask yourself: What is God preparing me for? Stay Steadfast in Your Role: Keep showing up, keep doing good, even when no one is watching. Let Go of Control: Surrender the outcome. The plan is bigger than we can see. Choose Compassion Over Ego: Stay focused on love and kindness. That’s the language of God’s plan. Celebrate Small Signs: Notice and be grateful for the little moments where life reminds you you’re on the right path. A Final Thought When we walk with faith, we realize that what’s meant for us will never miss us and what misses us was never meant for us. The peace comes not in seeing the full plan today, but in trusting that it exists. And one day, when the time is right, everything falls into place beautifully, perfectly, as it was always meant to. A question to reflect on:Am I willing to trust God’s timing even when I don’t see the full picture today?

Love Without a List — Returning to Our Purest Form In our adult lives, love often becomes complicated. We fall in love, build relationships, get married, become parents, or lead teams. And somewhere along the way, whether consciously or unconsciously, we start keeping a “list” of reasons why we love someone. “I love her because she supports me.”“I love him because he understands me.”“I love my child because they make me proud.” These reasons may feel beautiful at first. But what happens when those reasons don’t hold? When someone you love is unable to support you because they’re struggling? When understanding fades due to stress or miscommunication? When your child is going through a tough phase, not meeting your expectations? Do we stop loving them? Do we feel hurt, distant, or disconnected? This reflection hit me hard recently. It made me realize that we often love with expectations, even though we may not admit it. We place conditions on love. We say it’s unconditional—but is it, really? A Child’s Love: The Turning Point One evening, this thought consumed me so deeply that I decided to speak to someone who might give me a pure answer—my 13-year-old son. I asked him, “Do you love me?” He replied instantly, “Yes.” Then I asked, “Why do you love me?” He paused for a moment, smiled, and said, “I don’t know… I just love you.” His innocent response took my breath away. That moment reminded me of something profound: Children love without lists. They don’t love us because we earn a paycheck, or because we’re perfect parents, or because we meet their needs. They love simply. Freely. Unconditionally. That’s what love looked like when we first entered this world. So what changed? Growing Older, Growing Conditions As we grow, we become more intelligent, more strategic, more analytical. We start building expectations in our relationships. We begin measuring value. We associate love with performance, sacrifice, behavior, and return on investment. And as we do, we often forget the one truth that children know instinctively: Love is not earned. It is offered. We start placing conditions not only on others—but also on ourselves.We say, “I will love myself when I’m successful.”“I’ll feel worthy once I meet my goals.”“I’m not lovable right now because I’m not where I should be.” And in doing so, we withhold love from the one person who needs it most—ourselves. Unconditional Love Begins Within As I sat with this realization, I asked myself:Have I truly loved myself without a list? Because when we begin to love ourselves unconditionally, something powerful happens: we stop needing people to meet our expectations to feel loved.Instead, we overflow with love, and that overflow becomes our gift to others. Love becomes less about control and more about connection.Less about fixing and more about accepting.Less about “what’s in it for me?” and more about “how can I show up fully?” A New Kind of Awareness This experience left me with a question I now carry into every relationship: Am I loving this person for who they are, or for what they do for me? If the love vanishes when the reasons fade, maybe we weren’t loving them at all—we were loving the idea of them. But when we learn to love without reason, we rediscover the purity of our original design—God’s creation within us. That kind of love doesn’t vanish. It doesn’t panic. It doesn’t bargain. It stays, it heals, it transforms. Final Thoughts Let’s return to love without the list. Let’s remind ourselves that the truest love isn’t something we have to qualify or measure—it’s something we remember, something we are, something we share. Like my son, may we all one day say, “I don’t know why. I just love you.”

Letting Go Before It’s Too Late A lesson from my father I almost missed, until I learned to listen with love. In 2010, I walked into a Landmark Education session thinking I was just going to improve as a leader. What I walked away with instead was a life-altering lesson on ego, relationships, and letting go. That lesson saved me from carrying a regret I wouldn’t have been able to bear. Because two years later, in 2012, my father passed away.And had I not had that conversation with him — had I not let go when I did — I would have spent a lifetime burdened with words unspoken and love unheard. Let me tell you what happened. A Story About a Monkey — and Me During the Landmark session, our facilitator told a story that shook me: “There’s a monkey in a cage. The bars are wide enough for the monkey to slip its hand out. Outside the cage lies a banana. The monkey grabs it. But now, with a clenched fist, it can’t get its hand back through the bars. The only way out is to let go. But the monkey refuses. It keeps trying, keeps struggling, keeps hurting. And so it suffers — not because of the cage, but because of its refusal to release what it thought it needed.” Everyone in the room was quiet.But inside me, a storm was raging. Because I realized I was that monkey. And the banana?It was my ego — especially in how I was relating to my father. My Father, My Ego, My Guilt For years, I carried a stubborn belief that my father didn’t believe in me. He’d ask, “How are you doing? Are you stable?”He wanted me to choose a simple, secure path — to live a grounded life. He was concerned about my direction, my choices, my future. But all I heard was discouragement. All I saw in him was someone who wanted to limit me.So I argued. I rebelled. I told myself, “One day, I will prove him wrong.” Every “How are you?” from him felt like a challenge.And my ego built a wall — brick by brick — until I had shut out his love and concern completely. But that story about the monkey?It broke through. The Conversation That Freed Me That evening after the session, I did something I hadn’t done in years: I spoke to my father. Not to argue. Not to prove anything. Just to listen. Just to see him — not as an obstacle to my ambition, but as a human being who had always loved me in the only way he knew how. That conversation changed everything. We didn’t solve every issue.But something unspoken softened. A little space opened up. The heaviness that I had carried for so long — the need to be “right,” the story that “he didn’t understand me” — began to melt. I was no longer fighting him in my head.I was connecting with him in my heart. Two Years Later, He Was Gone When my father passed away in 2012, I mourned.But I didn’t feel guilt. And that made all the difference. Because I had let go — not of my dreams, but of my ego.Not of my path, but of my pain. That one honest conversation gave me peace that I hold onto even today. Had I not had that conversation in 2010, I would have carried a heavy regret for the rest of my life — a wound far deeper than words can describe. But because I did, I can say this today:I saw my father, and I allowed him to see me. We Think We’re Proving a Point. But What Are We Really Proving? In hindsight, I see my father’s questions were never about control.They were about care.But my ego distorted it into opposition. I was so busy trying to win — trying to prove myself — that I didn’t even realize I was losing the very relationship that mattered most. A Question for You So, I ask you, from one imperfect human to another: Is there someone in your life you’re resisting — not because they are wrong, but because your ego is too loud to hear their love? It’s easy to believe our stories.It’s hard to drop them. But the freedom we’re searching for is often just one honest conversation away. Let go.Say what you need to say.Listen, not to respond — but to truly hear. You never know how much time you have left. In Memory of My Father I write this with deep love and gratitude for my father —A man who always stood by me, even when I was too blind to see it. Thank you for loving me in your way.And thank you for forgiving me when I finally opened my heart.

Don’t Think Like a Lizard: A Lesson on Ego, Illusion & Grace In 2015, I had a moment that shook my inner world. At the time, I was leading PositiveShift along with my co-founder Vijay Mitra (VJ). He gave me immense freedom and trust. I was deeply involved, driven, and committed. In many ways, I felt like the lifeblood of the company. But here’s what I didn’t realize then I was slowly falling into a trap.The ego trap. I began to believe that I was the reason for everything working well.I thought, “Without me, things won’t move.” So, when a rare moment of disagreement or discomfort came up, I took it personally.Deeply. “Why would he say that to me?”“After all I’ve done, is this how I’m seen?” The spiral would begin. I’d overthink, overfeel, and burn out not because of the situation, but because of the meaning I attached to it. One day, in the middle of this internal storm, I reached out to Bhaskar Natarajan, a renowned leadership coach and a wise mentor. I poured my heart out to him. He listened patiently, then smiled and said something I’ll never forget: “Venkat… don’t think like a lizard.” I was puzzled.“Lizard?” I asked. He explained: “When a lizard is stuck to the ceiling, it thinks it’s holding the ceiling up. But in reality, it’s hanging there because the ceiling exists. It survives because the structure is strong not because of its own strength.” That hit me like a lightning bolt.I was the lizard.I was mistaking my contribution for control.My efforts for ownership.My presence for permanence. In truth, the platform, the people, the shared mission they were the ceiling that held me up. That day, I learnt something powerful: We contribute, but we don’t carry the world.We are important, but not the only important thing.We receive before we give.We grow because someone, somewhere, created a structure strong enough to hold us. That lesson softened something inside me.It humbled me.It freed me. Fast forward to 2025. While reading “Don’t Believe Everything You Think” by Joseph Nguyen, I came across this line: “Thinking is the root cause of all our suffering.” And once again, I was taken back to that day with Bhaskar. All my pain back then wasn’t from the situation.It came from the thought: “I am doing everything.” That thought created pressure.That thought demanded appreciation.That thought caused suffering. But when I changed the thought to:“I am grateful to be part of this.”Everything shifted. So, I invite you to reflect: Are you holding on to the illusion that the ceiling depends on you? Are you allowing your thoughts to create suffering where there should be service? What if we stopped thinking like lizards?What if we learned to trust the ceiling?What if we celebrated the system that carries us and did our bit with humility, not heaviness? In your company.In your family.In your friendships.In your mission. We are not the ceiling.We are blessed to be on the ceiling. May we serve from that place of grace.