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A few years ago, I had a harrowing epiphanyonstage, in front of an audience, no less.
Standing there under the glaring lights, I felt like a fraud.
Heart pounding, I scrapped my speech and instead led the crowd in a five-minute meditation.
During the silence, I took stock.
It was as if that bright spotlight above my head were illuminating each of my daily choices.
They weren’t prettyand certainly didn’t live up to the centered and wise Chopra image others expect.
How did I get here?
As the eldest child of Deepak Chopra, I’ve long felt a push-pull between being ordinary and extraordinary.
I’ve fantasized about following in my dad’s footstepssigning books for thousands of adoring fans!
But I’ve felt the weight of our family’s larger-than-life achievements nonetheless.
He’s the reason my dad became a doctor.
But my father’s rise to worldwide acclaim didn’t happen overnight.
Dad was scared, too.
From the first session, he was hooked, resulting in a professional shift that changed his life.
But his personal transformation had more impact on me.
My dad was home.
He got healthy and helped us with homework.
And it wasn’t long before our entire family learned to meditate.
As my father rose in the TM community, our lives became unexpectedly entwined with the rich and famous.
Michael Jackson was a fixture in our home.
Now, after so many years,Iwas the one who had lost my way.
So, like many others before me, I called my dad.
When I confessed to my unhealthy lifestyle, he responded as a father first, with concern.
Assured that I was basically OK, he shifted to guru mode: “Are you meditating?
If you have questions about your life, it’s one of the best ways to find answers.”
I admitted I wasn’t.
It felt like coming home.
And like coming home, it was challenging and comforting all at once.
That first session didn’t yield any spectacular insights.
I called friends and met them for lunch, walks on the beach, movies.
I started buying and preparing healthier foods rather than reflexively calling for delivery.
I even started taking a weekly yoga class set to hip-hop musicand found I liked it.
My friends weren’t aghast to learn that a Chopra strained to do Downward Dog.
They were just happy I’d joined them.
Despite those positive changes, I still had a nagging sense of guilt, of not measuring up.
As I meditated one day, an old memory surfaced.
He’d be horrified!"
“We’re actually buying it for our dad,” my brother said.
That memory triggered an insight: Even my dad isn’t perfectly Chopra-esque.
We’re all tempted by Coke and cupcakes.
We all skip exercise to binge-watch Netflix.
We all feel embarrassed when we’re not good at things.
But because we’re afraid to admit our failings, we carry around shame.
And that, I realized, was something I might have the power to change.
I started sharing the truth, and it has been liberatingfor me and for those who hear it.
I still don’t have an answer to my childhood question: Am I ordinary or extraordinary?
But I have a new response: Who cares?
I’m living a life aligned with my passions and values.
I’m being real and making mistakes and recognizing them and resetting my course.
To be published by Harmony Books, an imprint of Penguin Random House LLC, on April 7.
Photo Credit: Illustration by SHOUT
