Reading Kokoro by Beth Kempton felt like being softly bonked on the head by somebody. So, here’s my tiny ramble about the things I learnt, felt, and awkwardly nodded at while reading this book.
My belief of a neatly wrapped up life died somewhere between a pandemic and a quarter-life crisis. I knew it, but maybe didn’t accept it. Kokoro helped me grieve that belief and move on. Life isn’t a checklist. Sometimes, things fall apart even when you’re doing all the right things. And the sooner we let go of that illusion of control, the lighter we become.
At some point during my reading journey, I also realised that I wasn’t even thinking my own thoughts anymore in life. I was absorbing a lot of the Instagram algorithm, responding to DMs like a caffeinated oompa-loompa (hope that I’m saying that right), and letting trends dictate how I feel about my life. Kokoro helped me realize that sometimes, the most revolutionary thing you can do is mute the world. And listen to your thoughts.
The book also made me realise that I can simply go for a walk, read a book, press a flower in a book and smile at it months later and feel fulfilled. Doing things for the sake of joy, not productivity, felt like something I had completely forgotten to do. I was in a deep reading slump for months because I was constantly thinking about views and followers. It felt a little too late before I told myself, “No, I will not capitalize on my reading hobby. I just like it, okay?”
We live in a world that says “show me WHY” before it believes in you. That’s where the follower counts come in, the linkedin updates, the academic achievements — trying to prove your worth to the world is exhausting. And for me as an introvert? It was draining. But the book reminded me that my value isn’t on the social media. It’s in the conversations that no one else sees. It’s the poem I write and don’t post. It’s the smile I give to a random stranger on the street (okay, maybe that one’s creepy). But it all boils down to the fact that you matter, even when you’re invisible to the algorithm.
I also retained that success isn’t about the job title, the salary, the perfect aesthetic feed. It’s about whether your inner world feels like home. Whether your actions are aligned with your values. Whether you live with curiosity and give it back to the world. Because we are all so obsessed with what we do, we forget to question who we are. And I think that’s a good place to start.
As the book ended, I think I strongly believed that we’re all winging it. We always have been. Because life isn’t about always getting it right. It’s about being here.
That is essentially what Kokoro reminded me of.
If you’ve read the book too, tell me about all those raw, unfiltered thoughts that you found yourself humming to during the reading journey.
Until then,
Ritika Das @ Readablyours
