Transcriber: Nicla Crescini Reviewer: Lucas Kaimaras
Whoa!
I’ve been on a stage just like this one before.
I’m eight years old and standing in the assembly hall
of my school back in India.
It’s a singing contest
and 150 of my schoolmates are sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of me,
looking a bit fidgety.
To my right is a wooden upright piano
and a wild head and eccentric music teacher.
Mr. Almada is playing the opening bars to the Bare Necessities,
the song sung by Baloo the Bear in The Jungle Book.
I am a chubby, awkward, goody two shoes with spectacles and pigtails,
and I’ve planned to stand straight and deliver the song
just like a good girl would.
But when the music starts, something strange happens.
I get transported back to my bedroom
where I’ve practiced the song dozens of times,
and then I get transported into the film
and I become Baloo, the animated Disney bear,
roaming wild and free, completely at home in the jungle.
♪ The bees are buzzing in the trees to make some honey just for me ♪
My body begins to move and sway,
and then my hips start to wiggle without my permission.
The audience has disappeared for me.
I’m lost in the jungle with Baloo, singing and dancing my heart out,
until a noise brings me back into the room.
I look up to see that the audience has erupted.
They're all on their feet and the teachers are telling them to sit down.
I’ve no idea what to make of this,
but Mr. Almada seems to be enjoying it.
So I just carry on and I think I must be nailing this.
And that is when I notice some of them,
holding their stomachs, laughing and pointing at me.
Which makes me wonder:
Are they laughing at me?
Confused and distracted,
I miss my cue to come in for the final chorus.
This is not part of the plan.
I turn towards Mr. Almada with a plea for help.
But the music comes to a stop and he waves me off the stage.
There's a horrible silence in the room now.
And as I turn to walk off, I wish that I could just disappear.
There are no prizes that day
for courageous performance or artistic expression.
Not even a mention for comedy value.
I can't help feeling that I've made a complete fool of myself.
And I never want to feel that way again.
Has anyone else here experienced feeling this way?
So eight year old me decides that this is too dangerous.
It's best to stick to what I'm good at and put a lid on everything else.
Even if it seems alive and inviting and magical -
it’s not for me.
I start making an invisible box and I lock the foolish part of me away.
She’s not allowed to come out and play anymore.
And stay away from Baloo - he’s trouble.
I'm making sensible choices from now,
slowly editing all the adventure out of my life.
One safe choice at a time.
Until one day I look in the mirror
and I realize that my life is perfect,
but I can barely recognize myself.
Five stars to the good girl. Detention for Balloo.
Now, if I asked who else is living in a box,
I'm not sure that all of you would be eagerly rushing to put your hands up,
especially in public.
But I wonder if you can recognize yourself in some of these scenarios.
You’re pretty darn good at what you do.
But even though you're fed up with work,
you just never still quite get started with that business idea.
Years later, you're still fantasizing about being discovered by chance.
Your wardrobe is bursting full of beautiful new clothes,
but you don’t feel comfortable in your own skin,
seeing flaws when you look in the mirror.
You wish you were thinner, taller, sexier.
Fill in the blank.
All your time is spent chasing an image of what life should look like
and trying to be grateful.
But the reality is that playing this game is stressful and exhausting.
You shoved down the frustration, saying things like,
“Umm, never mind” and “It’s okay”.
Even though honestly you do mind and really it’s not okay.
The pressure to live up to expectations inside the box
kills the joy of being alive.
So you’re secretly plotting your escape.
Speaking of which,
this that little online shopping habit,
your COVID bubble really ought to be with the parcel delivery guy.
After all, he has seen you more times this week in your dressing gown
than your beloved has.
Your justifications for some of these purchases are, shall we say, imaginative?
The pleasure of shopping leaves a lingering guilt hangover.
But thankfully, that’s easy to fix:
with some more shopping?
It’s a seesaw.
We’re trying to balance between tight control and overindulgence.
Between tight control and overindulgence.
Never quite getting there.
When my 13 year old heard about this,
he said, “Ah. So does that mean
you’re actually admitting that adults are hypocrites?”
God bless kids.
They can just about get away with saying it like it is.
You are not to blame for this, by the way. So please relax and breathe.
(Exhales)
The default mode of a dysfunctional culture
is set to have us at odds with our inner sense of wholeness.
No.
The blame for this is not yours.
But the opportunity is.
The thing is that most of us are wasting life
wanting things to be different
while refusing to actually do things differently.
Why not try something new?
Why not take a risk?
And dare I say it, make some mistakes,
fail,
get things wrong,
look like a fool
in service to what you love.
So what is the truth about mistakes?
Isn’t it true that mistakes are part of the learning process?
And when we're okay with them,
then we’re free to venture into unknown territory,
and we keep going.
Something new, possibly of immense value is borne out of these attempts
and so-called mistakes.
A child couldn't even learn to walk without making hundreds of them.
Aren’t mistakes essential
and even vital for growth?
Mistakes have intelligence.
So in fact, the reverse is true:
Not being willing to make any mistakes is the ultimate foolishness.
That’s right.
The only real mistake we can make is never being willing to make one.
The real danger here is that we can live our lives
inside a box called “Afraid to look like a Fool”.
Settling for the illusion of safety and abandoning the pursuit of what we love.
Dying without having really lived at all.
Legend has it that potato crisps happened
when a customer kept sending his plate of potatoes back to the kitchen,
asking for them to be thinner and more fried.
The chef lost his temper, sliced them insanely thin,
and fried them until they were hot as a rock.
To his surprise, the customer loved them and asked for more.
Fireworks happened when a cook
accidentally mixed together charcoal, sulfur and saltpeter -
common kitchen items some 2000 years ago.
When the mixture was compressed inside a bamboo tube, it exploded.
Penicillin, the pacemaker, Post-it notes,
X-rays, slinkies and the microwave oven,
all started life as mistakes.
So in summary, mistakes equals growth.
This equation encourages curiosity, exploration and discovery,
leading to the fulfillment of creative potential.
In other words, mistakes don’t take away from our brilliance.
Mistakes encourage it.
Mistakes equals failure smothers our creative spark,
leaving a void that we tried to fill with endless consumption.
Separated from our true desires, we lose our way
and have to depend on the external world for direction.
And that’s how we land in real trouble.
Speaking of trouble, here comes Baloo, straight from detention.
He’s been doing some thinking about this and he’s got some things to say.
(Music)
♪ Look for the bare necessities, The simple bare necessities ♪
♪ Forget about your worries and your strife ♪
♪ I mean the bare necessities ♪
♪ Old Mother Nature’s recipes ♪
♪ That brings the bare necessities of life ♪
It’s been a real treat talking to you today.
You’ve been brilliant.
Thank you so much. And God bless.
(Applause)