"From Saintly Aspirations to Travelling Joys: The Art of Changing My Mind"

For most of my life, I fancied myself destined for sainthood—detached, serene, and untouched by the trifles of the world. I even flirted with the idea of leaving home to become a wandering sage, free from the distractions of daily life. But life, with its ironic charm, had other plans. Instead of a saint’s robe, I’ve found myself wearing the many hats of a traveller, a seeker of kindness, and an unlikely lover of life’s little indulgences. Along the way, I’ve changed my mind on things I once held as gospel truths—and that, my friends, has led to some interesting revelations.

Take travel, for instance. I once believed that true enlightenment could only be found in stillness, in quiet contemplation. Why would anyone want to roam the world when everything you need for inner peace could be found in a quiet room? But then, much to my initial reluctance, I embarked on a family trip. At first, I was distracted by the hustle of airports and the chaos of packing. But somewhere between the serenity of the Himalayas and the chaos of a bustling city market, I began to understand something: travel isn’t just about seeing places; it’s about seeing life from different perspectives. Each journey became a pilgrimage of its own—filled with new insights, strange wisdom, and unexpected joy. Perhaps a wandering monk doesn’t need a mountain cave after all—he can find his peace sipping chai on the edge of a desert, watching the sunset.

Kindness is another realm where my thinking shifted drastically. I’ve always believed in kindness, of course, but I used to think it was something best shared sparingly—like rare, expensive perfume. I thought, “Why waste it on people who don’t appreciate it? Let’s reserve it for special occasions.” But as I travelled and met strangers from all walks of life, I encountered simple, random acts of kindness that melted even my stubborn heart. A cup of tea from a shopkeeper, a smile from a passerby, an unexpected helping hand from someone I’d never met—these small gestures began to change my understanding of kindness. It isn’t something you reserve; it’s something you give freely, like air, or sunlight. It doesn’t run out, and the more you offer, the richer your life becomes.

Now, prayer—well, here’s a good one. I used to take my prayers very seriously. I approached them like solemn business meetings with the universe: formal, dignified, and devoid of humour. After all, who laughs in the presence of the divine? But over time, I’ve come to think that maybe God, in His infinite wisdom, enjoys a good laugh too. Now, my prayers are less like grand ceremonies and more like a friendly chat with an old mate. I ask for wisdom, of course, but I also crack a joke or two, because why not? Life’s too full of absurdities to be taken too seriously, even when talking to the Almighty. After all, if He’s created both the chaos and the calm, surely He can appreciate a bit of humour in between.

Perhaps the most profound change, though, has been in my thoughts about leaving home to seek spiritual enlightenment. There was a time when I genuinely believed that to find true peace, I’d have to renounce all worldly pleasures—give up my books, my conversations, my connection to the world. The image of me as a solitary wanderer, lost in thought, seemed like the epitome of wisdom. But, as with so many things, I’ve learned that renouncing the world doesn’t mean abandoning life’s joys. In fact, I’ve come to appreciate that true wisdom comes not from rejecting the world, but from embracing it fully—flaws and all. I don’t need to be a wandering monk to find meaning. I’ve discovered that a good cup of tea, a warm conversation, and the laughter of friends offer as much enlightenment as any spiritual quest.

So, here I am, no saint but a rather content wanderer through life, having changed my mind about most things I thought I’d never budge on. I’ve learned that life is richer, fuller, and much more entertaining when you let go of rigid ideas. Whether it’s the wisdom found in travel, the power of random acts of kindness, or the surprising joy of an informal chat with the universe, every change of heart has added a new layer to the way I live.

And while I might never reach the sainthood I once envisioned, I’ve come to embrace the unexpected joys that come from changing my mind—and I must say, the world has never looked so full of possibilities.