mY JoUrNEy oF AcCepTaNce

Accepting me, for who I am.
Accepting others, for who they are.
Accepting, that I am broken.
Accepting, that no one is perfect.
Accepting, responsibility for my own life.
Accepting, decisions that I make for myself.
Accepting, I cannot blame others for the choices I make.
Accepting help, when it comes, in whatever form it comes.

Accepting, with humility, and grace.
Accepting, with faith, and courage.

It’s time.

Let go of the old, embrace the new.

wE fiGHt, We FiGht, we FigHT

Every scar is a battle fought, and lost
Every tear speaks of opportunity, and cost

Without darkness, there is no light
Without blindness, there is no sight

Each man fights his own fight

Just breathe
And believe

sPheREs oF PosSibiLiTieS

I sit, surrounded by 4 cats and a dog. In this little world of mine, I am the master.

Beyond me, is a world so immense and complex. In this big wide world, I am but a little speck.

Change your frame of reference, and you get a totally different perspective. Change your perspective, and you get a new lease of life.

What’s this about considering both sides of the coin? It’s a mighty darn big sphere that has infinite possibilities, if only you care to look.

gOinG On

The world sucks. Bad people kill. Good people die. It’s never just right, or wrong. Questions don’t necessarily have answers. After the darkness may not come light.

Yet, we go on, like the Energiser bunny. Tides continue to turn. Day and night are engaged in an endless game of tag.

Choose life, he said

mY RoOm

My room is in a mess! But I’m not quite in the mood to do anything about it. It’s a weird theory, but I don’t like to do things halfway, so when I know I don’t have the energy to tidy my room to mint condition, I just let it languish.

That’s my perfectionist self talking. Either I do something 200%, or I don’t do it at all.

Or that could be my lazy self talking. Why bother to fold your blanket when you are going to be using it again tonight?

Be careful what you wish for.

wOrLd-ViEws

I wonder, when our world-views started to develop and took shape and fell into place. Was there a moment when enlightenment dawned upon us? Or was it an amalgamation of experiences that informed us?

When did I learn the difference between good and bad? How did I come to know that killing is bad but forgiving is good? What gave me the tinted glasses, rose or otherwise, with which I see the world?

Once in a while, something comes along that challenges our beliefs, our values, our world-views, what we hold sacred. And suddenly, you lose your bearings. It is like the compass of life decided to malfunction, right at the juncture where you need it the most.

In situations like this, you have to re-evaluate your world-views, re-negotiate a new set of bearings, re-learn how to live.

So do I choose left, or right? I think I’ll just follow my nose.

CHriStMaS

Christmas Day has traditionally been one of joy, cheer, warmth, laughter, goodwill, and love.

It is a quiet Christmas this year. No visiting. No partying. Just a kind of quiet solitude. A kind of hushed silence. A kind of calm balance.

So I count my blessings this day…

• Christmas mass in the morning.
• Preparing dinner and eating with my family.
• Exchanging gifts with my loved ones.

And for this, I am ever grateful – one more chance at living.

HoLiDAyS

Wistful, is how I would describe my mood now. An intriguing, lingering, sobering kind of mood. I used to love the holiday period, the festive dressing-up-and-going-for-mass Christmas mood, the excited can’t-wait-for-it-to-come New Year kind of mood.

In the last two years though, I have been feeling detached from this holiday. A holiday that brings with it so many, so many, just so many memories. Wistful, because I have been happier before. Wistful, because I could be happier in the future.

Waiting, for a miracle to happen.

oF LiFe & rEaLiTY

I want to write a book. A book about life. But it will be a difficult book to write. Because life is so big and huge and enormous to pen down into words.

I have this bad habit, of thinking about life more than actually living it. And perhaps inadvertently, I have missed out on a lot of things in life. Because, think about it, the only way to truly understand life is to live it.

Mind the gap, between what you think is reality and what reality is.

cOnTEmpLaTinG HOspiTaLs

Hospitals, are such institutions of structure and stability in a time of chaos and confusion. The clerks, the orderlies, the nurses, the doctors, they each know their place. While you are caught up in the pandemonium of sickness and anxiety, there is also an underlying unspoken order to things.

You are briefed before you are admitted to hospital. You get to your ward and you are given your bed and a set of hospital “clothes” to wear (which are normally in some horrible sickly colour and so big you are swimming in it). Every morning you wake up at 7am. You are given your breakfast and then shoo-ed off to bathe. The doctors make their rounds about 10am. They make polite conversation with you while looking through your case-sheet, and adjust your meds as they see fit. And for the rest of the day, you are pretty much left alone. Meals are served at specific times (five meals a day). Then comes dispensing time where you are given your meds and the nurses try to stare at you discreetly to make sure you take them. Not forgetting the checks on your blood-pressure, your blood, and sometimes your urine. Lights out at 9pm. And the days go by in similar routine.

A routine that is boring, yet so organised. So organised you feel protected. So organised you are able to calm down. So organised it’s like a refuge from the hectic world outside.

I like hospitals because they make me feel safe, so safe.

tHE RaiN & mE

It’s been raining the whole day. The kind of dreary rain that leaves you feeling weary. Like all the colours have been washed out, leaving behind a faded grayish gray. And the sun has gone into hiding. I need to wear a sweater even in my own house.

It’s been raining the whole day. The kind of gloomy rain that leaves me feeling moody. Like all pensive and serious, leaving me with some kind of faint throbbing headache. And the thinking doesn’t have a point. I call it the end-of-year blues.

It’s been raining the whole day. And it’s interesting the impact the weather has on my mood.

bUY, BuY, bUy!

I was at a bookstore today trying to look for the kind of envelope with bubble-wrap inside so I can send some DVDs off to a friend. I didn’t find the envelope, apparently they only sell them in post-offices.

But wow, the number of people out shopping completely bowled me over! It was as if the entire population decided to descend on the shopping mall, all at the same time. Seriously, it was like everyone, decided at the same moment, to scramble for calendars for 2008. All the gift shops and toy stores and department outlets were filled to the brim. People were walking around carrying humungous bagsful of shopping.

Why do people feel obligated to give gifts at Christmas? I mean, how many of us have gotten completely useless stuff at Christmas gift exchanges? The commercialism that is hyped up over Christmas is so far from the reality of Jesus’ birth in the manger that it’s a wonder they are connected in any way.

Me? I reject commercialism. But, I still like the shopping!

mEAniNg & LifE

I have been pondering about life. More specifically, my life. And even more specifically, the meaning of my life.

See, it’s one of those philosophical (rhetorical?) questions that tend to visit me every now and again.

I remember one muggy and humid afternoon, when I was 11. I had just woken up from my afternoon nap. And at that moment of waking, at that precise moment when my eyes opened, I had an insight. I AM ALIVE! The realization hit me with such force and clarity that I was winded. Even today, I can still remember that feeling inside me. That feeling of utter certainty, and a kind of awe.

Now, that’s what I would call a life-changing experience. And I suppose from that time, I have been on this search for the meaning of my life. Who am I? What is my role in this world? Or, simply put, what the hell am I doing here?

My friend says there is no answer, one just sort of grows into the question/ answer.

So while I continue to ruminate and integrate, I thought these words from Woodrow Wilson give me some sort of beginning to begin with, I guess…

“You are not here merely to make a living. You are here to enable the world to live more amply, with greater vision, and with a finer spirit of hope and achievement. You are here to enrich the world. You impoverish yourself if you forget this errand.”

And I wonder, how?

sTRanGeR @ tHE dOoR

Last night, a man came to our door. A stranger, who stood outside, without words, just looking. We jumped out of our skins and everyone had a momentary panic attack. And as Dad walked over to check out what the matter was, the man, the stranger, he asked for some water. Dad waved him off and shut our wooden door.

And today, thinking about that incident last night, I’m not so sure waving him off was the best thing to do. Remember what Jesus said about feeding the poor and helping our neighbours?

Then again, we have been taught from young to never talk with strangers. Our instinct is self-preservation, and any threat to that, real or imagined, is to protect ourselves. And with all these stories about thefts and killers and stalkers and terrorism, we can never be sure.

Was the stranger genuinely thirsty he had to stop outside our house to ask for a cup of water? Was the stranger trying to be funny and looking for a way to rob us? Was the stranger in his right mind? Was the stranger in need of help?

We’ll never know, because we waved him away.

Perhaps the least we could have done was to give him a cup of water, you think?

AngER

How can someone hold so much anger inside them? Wouldn’t they collapse from the weight?

Imagine having to carry the wrath of the world on your back. Imagine having to shoulder those grudges and pettiness over time.

You clench your iron-hot fists. You grit your charcoal-stained teeth. And for that moment, you crush up the world and bite off your enemy’s head.

The human heart can only hold this much, before it overflows.

oF FaiRY tALeS & LovE

When I was younger, I was fascinated with fairy tales. I dreamed of myself being the ill-treated, forgotten, downtrodden princess whose prince would come one day to rescue her and they would then live happily ever after.

I think I was less enamoured by the happily ever after part as I was drawn to the idea that there’s a prince who would come. For me. A prince especially for me. I mean, what more can one ask for in life than this?

Life happens. Love rages. Love cools. Love proposes. Love denies. Love ignites. Love lost.

He said perhaps I could learn to love again. I think not.

eLEpHaNT

For you, who shared with me the story of the elephant.

wHaT A ChaNgE

Priorities change, over time. Things I used to love I don’t love anymore. Things I didn’t love I love now.

I used to love being a busy executive, traveling to different places for my work, once even going as far as USA. I love the fact that I was being recognized in my work, that I am busy because my work has value. And the sense of fulfillment when my work gains praise from clients or my bosses gave me a rush. I felt important.

Now, I have become tired. I don’t relish living out of my suitcase anymore. I cannot stand the stress that comes with work, the tight deadlines, the groveling in front of clients. It all just feels so fake, perpetrating a vicious cycle I do not believe in.

Stability. That’s what I want now. Time. That’s what I yearn for now. Space. That’s what I long for now. The stability and time and space to explore the world anew. And freedom. The freedom to pick up a book and be able to spend time reading it. The freedom to catch my dreams and write them down. The freedom to live.

My favourite colour used to be blue. But now I think the reds and browns, the greens and yellows, the blacks and greys, the oranges and pinks, I think they are just as pretty.

LoOK at mE

After the echoes of applause have died down, there comes an understanding. Being on stage just for that moment takes a lot of you and out of you. And yet, we continue to yearn, for that moment. That moment, when you are all alone on the stage. That moment, when all your months of preparations come to fruition. That moment, when you are recognized.

Or perhaps, I’m just a big sucker for attention.

iNSidE oF Me

“Being compelled to speak honestly might be uncomfortable – but facing one’s true being is perilous. The human soul, stripped naked, is a hungry, prideful thing.”

(from JLA: League of One by Christopher Moeller)

hERe gOEs

Screw the dream and live the life!

wEiRD feELiNG

I feel an intense sense of restlessness. Churning up my insides.

A vapour that shrouds me. A mist of worry.

Restless. Intensely restless.

I wonder why?

'tiS ThE QueSTioN

We fall, and we stand up, and we fall again, and we stand up again… and again and again. Every time you fall, something in you changes. You are no longer the same person.

The change could be ground-breaking and earth-shattering. Or the change could be light as a baby’s fingers touching your face. The change could turn your whole world upside down and inside out. Or the change could leave only the tiniest traces on you.

Yet change, is indelible. Or so they say, change is the only constant in life.

Have I allowed the changes to make me a better person or have I let the changes defeat me?

tHRoUgH yOUr EyeS

Without your eyes, I am nobody
Without your eyes, I am nothing
Without your eyes, I don’t know who I am
Without your eyes, I don’t know what to do

My life, is built on what you think of me
My reality, is built on what you see of me
My self-worth, is built on what you recognize in me
My very being, is built on what you expect from me

Look away, and I disappear
Turn away, and I cease to exist
Walk away, and I am no more

So please, don’t let go of me, not now.

iT WiLL bE Ok

I have a teddy dog named Micki. He’s been with me for ages, and I cuddle him every time I sleep. Over the years, Micki has seen a fair bit of my dreams and imaginings. He has shared in my joys and happenings. He has witnessed my tears and heartbreakings.

Micki is a faithful friend. He doesn’t judge me. He listens to me. His presence calms me. And I love how he smells, like home. Micki smells like I have come home.

But Micki has been losing weight. He is now probably only three-quarters or less than when we first met. I suspect my blood, sweat and tears have finally got to him. Micki is becoming frail and fraying at the edges.

Yet whenever I cry, he continues to hold me. And in times of fear, we hide together under the blanket. I count my breathing in sets of 2, 4, 8, 16, 32 until I am no longer hyperventilating.

And he whispers in my ear, “It’s ok. It’s all going to be ok.”

SeEKiNg tRUth

I have been doing a lot of thinking these days. Looking hard into my self. And it’s difficult work. Learning to listen to the voices within you is difficult. How do you stop the incessant chatter and listen out for that still small voice inside? How do you know which voice is really you?

There are things I discovered about myself that shocked me. Half-truths I tried to hide. Lies I tried to tell. But it’s like your heart or conscience never lets you go. It always comes back to the same basic ground rule – what is the truth? And only you know what is true. The path that leads to truth is a path you must walk alone.

My friend tells me, there are different facets to truth, and one aspect of it may not be the complete truth.

For I am greater than the sum of my parts.