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.