Man, sometimes life just hits you sideways, you know? Like a truck you never saw coming. A few years back, I was in a real rut. Everything felt… blurry. My job was a grind, my personal life was tangled up, and I just couldn’t seem to find my footing. It felt like I was constantly swimming upstream, and not in a good, strong way, but like flailing, just trying to keep my head above water.
I remember one particularly dreary Tuesday. I was scrolling through stuff online, looking for anything, really, just some kind of sign, some direction. Anything to grasp onto. That’s when I stumbled across this “Kamal Kapoor Weekly Pisces: Get Your Weekly Insight Here!” thing. I’m a Pisces, always have been, and well, desperate times, desperate measures, right? I figured, what’s the harm in taking a peek?
So, my “practice” began right there. Every single week, like clockwork, I’d pull up Kamal Kapoor’s latest. I’d read through it, sometimes a couple of times, really trying to soak it in. I started seeing patterns, or at least, I thought I did. It was little things at first: “Expect an unexpected conversation this week.” And then, boom, a weird email from an old colleague. Or “A minor delay might turn into a blessing in disguise.” And my bus was late, but I ended up bumping into someone who gave me a lead on something. I started feeling like, maybe, just maybe, there was some kind of cosmic map out there, and Kamal Kapoor had the key.
I even started keeping mental notes, a sort of internal “record” of how these “insights” mapped to my actual week. Did it say “focus on your finances”? I’d spend more time looking at my bank account. Did it mention “nurture creative impulses”? I’d doodle in my notebook more. It became a weird ritual, a way to try and impose some order on the chaos that was my life. I was actively looking for confirmation, trying to make the pieces fit. It was almost like a game, but a serious one, because I genuinely believed it was giving me a bit of an edge, a heads-up on what was coming down the pike.
Then, the dam broke.
It was a truly brutal stretch. My dad got pretty sick, unexpected and fast. And right when we were dealing with that, my company decided to downsize, and my name was on the list. Just like that, job gone. Everything I thought I had, the little stability I was trying to build, just evaporated. I remember reading that week’s Pisces insight from Kamal Kapoor – something about “maintaining inner peace amidst external storms” or some such fluffy stuff. And I just stared at it. Inner peace? Storms? My dad was in the hospital, and I was out of a job. What good was “inner peace” going to do me?
That hit me hard. Really hard. All that diligent “practice” of following these weekly tidbits, all my mental “records” of how they seemed to align… it felt like a total waste of time. It wasn’t guiding me through the real, gut-wrenching stuff. It was just pretty words, a distraction from the actual hard work of living. I felt foolish for putting so much stock into it. It didn’t predict the layoff, it didn’t tell me what steps to take for my dad. It just offered vague comfort, which, in that moment, felt like a slap in the face.
That experience made me step back. I realized that my desperate search for external “insights” was just a way to avoid looking inward. I wasn’t finding answers in Kamal Kapoor’s words; I was finding comfort in the idea that someone else had the answers. That was a rough truth to swallow. So, I stopped reading them. Cold turkey. My new “practice” became something totally different.
Instead of seeking out someone else’s weekly insight, I started to create my own. I got real. I pulled out a notebook, a proper one, not just mental notes, and I started writing down what was actually happening. Not what might happen, but what did. I forced myself to write down my feelings, my fears, my tiny wins, my massive screw-ups. I started researching job search strategies, learning about financial planning for unemployment, and digging into my dad’s medical stuff, talking to doctors, really understanding what was going on. It wasn’t glamorous. It was gritty, frustrating, and often heartbreaking.
But here’s the kicker: That was where the real “insight” came from. My weekly record wasn’t some cosmic forecast; it was a brutal, honest log of my own efforts, my own resilience. It showed me my patterns, not of the stars, but of my own behavior. When I felt overwhelmed, I recorded it. When I pushed through, I recorded that too. I saw how I picked myself up, how I found new leads, how I supported my family. And that, my friends, that was the true weekly insight. It wasn’t about what the universe had planned for me as a Pisces; it was about what I was doing for myself, week in and week out. That raw, personal record, built from my own sweat and tears, became my compass. It showed me my own strength, a strength far more reliable than any prediction.
