sudahSayang

Tender Mercies

2008-04-14T23:36:00.003+10:00

Received a beautiful prayer from a friend... The Lord has blesses indeed! :)

Dear Lord,

Thank you
for the blessing of this friendship...

and Thank you
for the tender mercies and rich blessings
that You have given us.

Love and quietness

2008-04-14T23:10:00.006+10:00

I was very moved by a friends description of love. Here is a snippet of an sms conversation with the friend, who is experiencing the possibility of being in love, loving and being loved.

"(he) ponders his momentary loss for words. And realises that sometimes love needs quiet reflection. And deep love needs reverent contemplation..."

Someone To Watch Over Me

2006-07-13T22:46:00.000+10:00

I am so tired. At times like these, I yearn a quiet life; the simple words... the simple want for someone to watch over me, with unspoken words...

Failing which, there is always Chris Botti to awash your evening with the unspoken fragility of our existence.

Someone To Watch Over Me
by Renee Olstead
*featuring Chris Botti (!!!)

There's a somebody I'm longin' to see
I hope that he, turns out to be
Someone who'll watch over me

I'm a little lamb who's lost in the wood
I know I could, always be good
To one who'll watch over me

He may not be the man some
Girls think of as handsome
To my heart he carries the key

Won't you tell him please to put on some speed
Follow my lead, oh, how I need
Someone to watch over me

[bridge]

Won't you tell him please to put on some speed
Follow my lead, oh, how I need
Someone to watch over me

Someone to watch over me
Someone to watch over me

Chris Botti

2006-07-08T22:22:00.000+10:00

Chris Botti is a dream...

you must hear him play the trumpet!

my spine tingled and my heart melted....

http://www.chrisbotti.com/roadreports.html

Be my light in the storm

2006-06-25T23:09:00.000+10:00

I thoroughly enjoyed mass today - for a rather bimbotic reason though... heh :) there was a wonderful choir singing beautiful hymns! The congregation was led through "Be not afraid", "Christ, Be our Light", and "St Francis's Prayer (aka make me a channel of your peace).

The choir was comprised 4-5 members, doubling up as occasional musicians on the piano, guitar and violin. In summary, they were a small group of people who weren't always in tune but were so joyful, sincere and serious in their representation of music, that it infected the whole church.

Music resonates physically and emotionally within us. It is the language of our souls. Hence, music and singing at mass is indispensable.

Beautiful (sincere) singing and music is form of communication with God, an invisible bridge to union with pews of strangers in choral gusto and most of all, a tuneful resolution to ourselves to keep and walk the faith.

Hymns are can function as a sort of 'mnemonic' to our faith. Lyrics to hymns 'come' to us when we are searching, conciously or unconciously. Even when we forget the words, we remember the tune, and attach meaning to it. I am certain there have been times when have you may have found yourself humming a familiar tune, or connecting to lyrics of a song. Similarly, the tunes of hymns can trigger a memory of a necessary struggle or suffering, or comfort, or rejuvenate. For me, I am always joyful or moved while singing. Hymns fundmentally, remind us to rejoice in Hope even while suffering. Music moves us to hope and celebrate in God's promise of Love.

Every mass is celebration of the eucharist; a time of renewal of our faith and reflection of our thoughts and acts. A great choir and a sharp selection of hymns can greatly faciliate all the abovementioned. Specifically, an arousing choir can provide a musical context to the message of the readings and homily, and reinforce a connection to the Word. Sadly, I don't get that feeling when I attend mass in sg. Sometimes, it seems that choral members merely want to outdo each other in volume or showcase their voices. I don't think that they realise they come together to lead the congregation, to inspire worship instead being a devotee to one's own vocal prowess. I will dearly miss the masses in Brisbane, for the simple, compact, but proficient, rousing choirs.

Now for slightly less bimbotic stuff... Today's reading exhorted us not to forget to trust in Christ despite the storm. In our disorientation, we give in to fear and easily forget to trust. For some wierd reason, I was transported to a scene in LOTR - Return of the King, where Frodo gave in to fear insidiously incited by Golem, and distrusted Samwise Gamgee (the scene leading to the appearance of the horrible spider). Perhaps I am reminded of the scene because I was surprised to realise that even someone hopeful, innocent and loyal like Frodo; the best of us, fall prey to fears. It is so much easier to seek confirming evidence to distrust, than to consider evidence suggesting otherwise. However, it is interesting that when Frodo found himself lost and trapped in the cave where the spider dwells, he wishes Sam was there to support him in his hour of darkness. Perhaps intuitively, we know who we can trust - always.

This brings me to point I am blogging today, I am captured chorus of "Christ be our light" and really just wanted to post the lyrics, and not bable. Anyhow, if you are unfamiliar with this hymn, the tune to the chorus is cast with a minor scaling of sombre grave tones, but slowly it gives way to a rising melody and harmony in the chorus. I am sure you can draw the parrallels to todays reading. Enjoy.

Christ be our light
Longing for light, we wait in darkness.
Longing for truth, we turn to you.
Make us your own, your holy people,
Light of the world to see.

Chorus:
Christ, be our light!
Sing in our hearts.
Shine through the darkness.
Christ, be our light!
Shine in your Church gathered today.

Longing for peace, our world is troubled.
Longing for hope, many despair.
Your word alone has pow'r to save us.
Make us your living voice.
(C)

Longing for food, many are hungry,
Longing for water, many still thirst.
Make us your bread, broken for others,
shared until all are fed. (C)

Fidelity

2006-06-14T01:39:00.001+10:00

Co-habitation screws your mind.

For those of you who know, I moved out of the of the place I was renting because the couple I was living with was incesssantly playing war games. The air, thick with tension; reeked of hurt, betrayal and guilt. One minute I can hear them quarrelling and crying, the next, they are making out in the shower (the shower is a mere wall partition away from my humble mattress).

I finally threw in the towel. Enough. I need to make sense of my environment and I need Sleep!

Shortly after I moved out, the guy followed suit, but subsequently returned. A few weeks later, I met up the girl for a little coffee. This is the truncated version of the conversation that ensued...
me: Hey, he told me that he moved back in and you are both back together.
me: That means you are still getting married right? Congratulations!
girl: (looks blank) .. yeah...
me: er..Are you sure you want to marry him?
girl: Yes I want to marry him now,...
me: now?
girl: but I can't promise that I want to be married to him 20-30 years time.
me: huh? To be married is to be committed to him for life. Do you want to commit to that?
girl: yes, I do. Now. But maybe not in twenty years. That I cannot promise… I cannot promise that I will stay faithful.
me: what do you mean you cannot promise? A promise means that you hold to a commitment… that you will try no matter what happens; that you will not commit adultery;… it is a commitment to make the right choice everytime you are faced with temptation.
girl: I can see myself with him now. But I can’t see myself with him maybe in 20 years? I may be attracted to someone else, I cannot control that. I fear I won't be living the life that God promised.

I was whacked with a massive overdose of incredulity... in other words, in Singaporean speak, "WAH RAU!" exploded in my head, deafening my senses and rendering me speechless. I could not believe my ears...

God did not promise a road paved with roses, and certainly I think He would root for the santity of the lived Holy Matrimony. What about God's faithfulness to us despite out many transgressions?

In most cases, co-habitation is an arrangement of convenience and instant gratification, not of love that will be riddled with obstacles. The 'test drive' mentality of co-habitation promotes extreme self-interest and removes the impetus to have the courage to sacrifice or perservere for the sake of the symbiotic relationship.

I am uncertain why the girl was fearful. Perhaps she may have had unpleasant experiences of non-commital persons who are significant in her life. I want to tell her there is nothing to be fearful about - at all times of temptation, you are faced with a dichotomous choice, ie whether or not to honour the commitment. Fidelity. It is as simple and as difficult as that.

The Church; The Kingdom ?

2006-06-14T01:26:00.000+10:00

The Church / The Kingdom
(Don Siebert)

In synoptic Gospels, the word ‘kingdom’ is used 106 times, the word ‘church’ once. Thus it is the kingdom for which we strive. The church is a means to promote the kingdom – not an end in itself.

The kingdom is a mystery outlined in the parables and beatitudes; not a list of laws, but a set of mind boggling ideals with which we struggle in life to come to terms.

It is the reign of God in our lives; a gathering awareness, a process, a growth rather than some abstraction; it is the presence of God deep within us and all other people and our world. It is the source within us of our dialogue with God; it is a call to wholeness, to selfless love and service of other people.

The kingdom brings Hope not fear; prophetic word and action, not paralysis. Sharing, not self-sufficiency; forgiveness, not revenge.

Be Still

2006-06-06T15:11:00.000+10:00

Be Still

He commanded

I heard

But did not know

how to obey

A gentle voice echoed

Be still...

I listened

to the quieting

of my soul

Be still;

and Know.

I saw my nothingness;

fears, anxieties

ebb away

Know,

That I am God.

My spirit, my body,

rests

in His Grace and Glory

Open my eyes Lord

2006-06-04T18:32:00.000+10:00

OPEN MY EYES
(Jesse Manibusan)

Open my eyes, Lord. Help me to see your face.
Open my eyes, Lord. Help me to see.

Open my ears, Lord. Help me to hear your voice.
Open my ears, Lord. Help me to hear.

Open my heart, Lord. Help me to love like you.
Open my heart, Lord. Help me to love.

I live within you. Deep in your heart, O Love.
I live within you. Rest now in me.

Less Sleep Linked to Weight Gain (Jialat!)

2006-05-25T10:43:00.000+10:00

... so if I stay up to late night supper I put on DOUBLE the weight?!? Jialat; How can!!!!

Less Sleep Linked to Weight Gain
Source: American
Thoracic Society (ATS)

Women who sleep 5 hours or less per night weigh more on average than
those who sleep 7 hours, according to a study to be presented at the American
Thoracic Society International Conference on May 23rd. Press Briefing10:15 a.m.
(PDT).

Newswise — Women who sleep 5 hours or less per night weigh more on average
than those who sleep 7 hours, according to a study to be presented at the
American Thoracic Society International Conference on May 23rd.

The study found that women who slept for 5 hours per night were 32% more
likely to experience major weight gain (defined as an increase of 33 pounds or
more) and 15% more likely to become obese over the course of the 16-year study
compared with women who slept 7 hours. Women who slept for 6 hours were 12% more
likely to have major weight gain and 6% more likely to become obese compared
with women who slept 7 hours a night.
The study included 68,183 middle-aged
women who were enrolled in the Nurses Health Study. They were asked in 1986
about their typical night’s sleep, and were then asked to report their weight
every 2 years for 16 years.

On average, women who slept 5 hours or less per night weighed 5.4 pounds
more at the beginning of the study than those sleeping 7 hours and gained an
additional 1.6 pounds more over the next 10 years.“That may not sound like much,
but it is an average amount—some women gained much more than that, and even a
small difference in weight can increase a person’s risk of health problems such
as diabetes and hypertension,” said lead researcher Sanjay Patel, M.D.,
Assistant Professor of Medicine at Case Western Reserve University in Cleveland,
OH.
Dr. Patel noted that this is by far the largest study to track the effect
of sleep habits on weight gain over time. “There have been a number of studies
that have shown that at one point in time, people who sleep less weigh more, but
this is one of the first studies to show reduced sleep increases the risk of
gaining weight over time.”

The researchers looked at the women’s diets and exercise habits to see if
they could account for part of the findings. “Prior studies have shown that
after just a few days of sleep restriction, the hormones that control appetite
cause people to become hungrier, so we thought that women who slept less might
eat more. But in fact they ate less,” Dr. Patel said. “That suggests that
appetite and diet are not accounting for the weight gain in women who sleep
less.”
The researchers also asked women about how much they participated in
exercise activities such as running, jogging or playing tennis. But they didn’t
find any differences in physical activity that could explain why women who slept
less weighed more.

“We don’t have an answer from this study about why reduced sleep causes
weight gain, but there are some possibilities that deserve further study,” Dr.
Patel said. “Sleeping less may affect changes in a person’s basal metabolic rate
(the number of calories you burn when you rest). Another contributor to weight
regulation that has recently been discovered is called non-exercise associated
thermogenesis, or NEAT, which refers to involuntary activity, such as fidgeting
or standing instead of sitting. It may be that if you sleep less, you move
around less, too, and therefore burn up fewer calories.”

Pray - with Thanksgiving!!!

2006-05-24T04:16:00.000+10:00

Excerpts of an msn conversation with a friend about how to pray...

pray with a confidence n understanding that we serve a God who wants to bless

Pray according to His Will. Pray with Expectation that God will answer.

"For God has not given us a spirit of fear, but of power and of love and of sound mind." 2 Timothy 1: 7

"be anxious for nothing, but in everything by prayer and supplication, with thanksgiving, let your requests be made known to God; and the peace of God which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and mind through Jesus Christ"- Philippians 4;6-7

PureLoveClue: Chastity Q&A

2006-05-22T00:09:00.000+10:00

I came across this website PURE Love CLUB by accident. To be honest, I only paid attention to the pop up window because I was amused by the name... forgive me, but for some reason pure love club sounds really cheesy. Thinking that the site might be a satire on a la aunt agony columns, I read on for comic relief. I did get a dose of humour reading the Q rave about her 'perfect' man, but had least expected to be impressed by the simple, concise and relevant response to a prevalent basic dilemma.

It is so simple to read the Q. and raise an incredulous eyebrow at the poor girl - what is she thinking?! But, it when friends are mired in the same quandary, it is not so simple. While I am rightfully sympathetic, I also have to be objective and prod friend to confront basic truths. This article is useful for 'prodders' and 'to-be-proddeds"

_________________
Chastity Q&A

Q. I told my boyfriend that I wanted to stop having sex until I was married, and he's made that compromise for me. At first, he got distant and then mad at me for making the decision to be abstinent because he said that we should have talked about it. We have been fighting more since we stopped having sex, but he is a nice guy, we go to church (even though he complains I mother him about that), and he really wants for us to end up together. But, I just don't know what to do here, because I definitely don't want to lose him. I don't want you to get the wrong idea about him. He really is perfect, but what should I tell him?

______
A. Step number one is to ask God the same question you just asked me. Sometimes we're so busy running around and listening to music, watching the TV, talking to friends, and messing around on the computer that we never take time to sit still and pray. If we do not make time for that silence in our souls, we'll have a very difficult time hearing God speak to us. So, for starters, set a regular prayer time and stick to it. We can't expect to grow spiritually if we think that prayer times will just happen. My favorite place to pray is before the Blessed Sacrament at church. Wherever we choose to pray, we must be disciplined, and we will reap what we sow. When you begin to pray, invite the Holy Spirit to bless your prayer time. Spend some time reading the Bible, because the Lord often uses that to talk to our hearts. Also, ask our Lady to help you pray. If you do this, I know you will see where you should go with this relationship. After all, you want a guy who will lead you spiritually, not a guy who will take from you sexually everything that you are willing to give him. Your boyfriend is not doing you an immeasurable favor by not having sex with you. It is his duty as a Christian man, and you owe him nothing for doing what he ought to do. If he is trying to make you feel guilty, then he's manipulating you. Your relationship is in God's hands, and he must learn to trust the Lord instead of grabbing on to whatever he wants to make sure he gets it. God's will is our happiness, and if the Lord wants the two of you together, then waiting until you're married to live like you're married will not ruin this. If it does, then it was never meant to be. You mentioned that he got upset and said that it wasn't fair for you to just make that decision and you should have talked about it first. Well, you don't need a permission slip to care about yourself. He may be whining as you said about you mothering him, but the reason why this is happening is because he is failing to be the spiritual head in the relationship. So, someone has to wear the pants. It should be a big warning sign to you that you have argued more since you told him of your decision for purity. He should be honored, not pouty. You did what was right, and if he is mad, so be it. It is better that he be mad than you lower your standards. Women today are so timid and afraid to hurt a guy's feelings that they often end up causing themselves immeasurable harm. Listen to you heart and follow your conscience. You said that you don't want to break up with him because he is so perfect. But I ask you, is this your idea of a perfect guy? One who throws a tantrum because you won't sleep with him? One who gives you the silent treatment when you make a vow of purity? One who questions your decision to live by God's standards instead of his? Really pray about this. You want a man who will spiritually lead you, one who would set you straight if you wanted to sleep with him. Do not be afraid that love will pass you by if you leave this relationship. It just may open up the door for the kind of love you've wanted all long.

Be Coherent and Relevant?!

2006-05-21T23:51:00.000+10:00

I have been told that I have a tendency to be incoherent, especially over MSN.

In exasperation, a friend sent me this:-

Grice's Conversational Maxims

Maxim of Quantity:

1. Make your contribution to the conversation as informative as necessary.

2. Do not make your contribution to the conversation more informative than necessary.

Maxim of Quality:

1. Do not say what you believe to be false.

2. Do not say that for which you lack adequate evidence.

Maxim of Relevance:
Be relevant (i.e., say things related to the current topic of the conversation).

Maxim of Manner:

1. Avoid obscurity of expression.

2. Avoid ambiguity.

3. Be brief (avoid unnecessary wordiness).

4. Be orderly

My dear friend… I try to make my contribution to conversation as informative as possible, and I do not say what I believe to be false. BUT, try as I might, I am simply not genetically inclined to achieve the rest ;P Apologies; cannot lah!

Tolkien and the defense of his faith

2006-05-21T20:47:00.000+10:00

Tolkien - a writer I deeply esteem, expounds on his faith as a Catholic, in a letter to his son. He describes his reverence for the Blessed Sacrament and exhorts the necessity for the spiritual staple. Enjoy :)

J.R.R. Tolkien on Church Scandal

Excerpted from a letter to Tolkien's son Michael written on November 1, 1962 (Letters of J. R. R. Tolkien, Humphrey Carpenter, ed., Houghton Mifflin Co. [1981], pp. 337-9).

In the last resort faith is an act of the will, inspired by love. Our love may be chilled and our will eroded by the spectacle of the shortcomings, folly, and even sins of the Church and its ministers, but I do not think that one who has once had faith goes back over the line for these reasons (least of all anyone with any historical knowledge). "Scandal" at most is an occasion of temptation-as indecency is to lust, which it does not make but arouses. It is convenient because it turns our eyes away from ourselves and our own faults to find a scapegoat. . . .

The temptation to "unbelief" (which really means rejection of our Lord and his claims) is always there within us. Part of us longs to find an excuse for it outside us. The stronger the inner temptation the more readily shall we be "scandalized" by others. I think I am as sensitive as you (or any other Christian) to the "scandals," both of clergy and laity. I have suffered grievously in my life from stupid, tired, dimmed, and even bad priests; but I now know enough about myself to be aware that I should not leave the Church (which for me would mean leaving the allegiance of our Lord) for any such reasons: I should leave because I did not believe. . . . I should deny the Blessed Sacrament, that is: call our Lord a fraud to his face.

If he is a fraud and the Gospels fraudulent-that is: garbled accounts of a demented megalomaniac (which is the only alternative), then of course the spectacle exhibited by the Church . . . in history and today is simply evidence of a gigantic fraud. If not, however, then this spectacle is alas! only what was to be expected: it began before the first Easter, and it does not affect faith at all-except that we may and should be deeply grieved. But we should grieve on our Lord's behalf and for him, associating ourselves with the scandalizers not with the saints, not crying out that we cannot "take" Judas Iscariot, or even the absurd and cowardly Simon Peter, or the silly women like James' mother, trying to push her sons.

It takes a fantastic will to unbelief to suppose that Jesus never really "happened," and more to suppose that he did not say the things recorded of him-so incapable of being "invented" by anyone in the world at that time: such as "before Abraham came to be I am" (John 8:58); "He that hath seen me hath seen the Father" (John 14:9); or the promulgation of the Blessed Sacrament in John 6: "He that eateth my flesh and drinketh my blood hath eternal life." We must therefore either believe in him and in what he said and take the consequences; or reject him and take the consequences. I find it for myself difficult to believe that anyone who has ever been to Communion, even once, with at least right intention, can ever again reject him without grave blame. (However, God alone knows each unique soul and its circumstances.)

The only cure for sagging or fainting faith is Communion. Though always itself perfect and complete and inviolate, the Blessed Sacrament does not operate completely and once for all in any of us. Like the act of faith it must be continuous and grow by exercise. Frequency is of the highest effect. Seven times a week is more nourishing than seven times at intervals. . . .

I myself am convinced by the Petrine claims, nor looking around the world does there seem much doubt which (if Christianity is true) is the True Church, the temple of the Spirit dying but living, corrupt but holy, self-reforming and re-arising. But for me that Church of which the pope is the acknowledged head on earth has as chief claim that it is the one that has (and still does) ever defended the Blessed Sacrament, given it most honor, and put it (as Christ plainly intended) in the prime place. "Feed my sheep" was his last charge to Peter; and since his words are always first to be understood literally, I suppose them to refer primarily to the bread of life. It was against this that the W. European revolt (or Reformation) was really launched-"the blasphemous fable of the Mass"-and faith/works a mere red herring.

Praises... sing praises

2006-05-20T22:52:00.000+10:00

How beautiful!

C.S. Lewis - A Grief Obeserved

C.S. Lewis started documenting his grief in little notes, just after his wife, H. died.
This passage describes his introspection on his notes as he looks back and reads them.

The notes have been about myself, and about H., and about God. In that order. The order and the proportions exactly what they ought not to have been. And I see that I have nowhere fallen into that mode of thinking about either which we call praising them. Yet that would have been best for me. Praise is the mode of love which always has some element of joy in it. Praise in due order; of Him as the giver, of her as the gift. Don't we in praise somehow enjoy what we praise, however far we are from it? I must do more of this. I have lost the fruition I once had of H. And I am far, far away in the valley of my unlikeness, for the fruition which, if His mercies are infinite, I may some time have of God. But by praising I can still, in some degree, enjoy her, and already, in some degree, enjoy Him. Better than nothing.

Spiralling up and down

2006-05-20T22:07:00.000+10:00

More on A Grief Observed...

Each time I open the book and flip to a random page, I am thoroughly engaged.
I think all of us, at one time or another, can identify with Lewis's description of his sense of grief and loss.

Loss and grief are profound emotions - thoroughly pervasive and penetrating, yet so unqualified, so absolute, so Unknown. A person in grief, flounders through - somehow. Through the ups, and up the downs - over and over... such is the process of grief. Over and over, but onwards and forwards, over and over.

of Grief

An admirable programme. Unfortunately it can't be carried out. Tonight all the hells of young grief have opened again; the mad words, the bitter resentment, the fluttering in the stomach, the nightmare unreality, the wallowed-in tears. For in grief nothing 'stays put'. One keeps on emerging from a phase, but it always recurs. Round and round. Everything repeats. Am I going in circles, or dare I hope I am on a spiral?

But if a spiral, am I going up or down it?

How often- will it be for always? - how often will the vast emptiness astonish me like a complete novelty and make me say, 'I never realised my loss till this moment'? The same leg is cut off time after time. The first plunge of the knife into the flesh is felt again and again.
C.S. Lewis - A Grief Obeserved

I wonder how the disciples felt as Jesus died on the cross...

of Loss...

Did you ever know, dear, how much you took away with you when you left? You have stripped me even of my past, even of things we never shared. I was wrong to say the stump was recovering from the pain of the amputation. I was deceived because it has so many ways to hurt me that I discover them only one by one.
C.S. Lewis - A Grief Obeserved

Love Actually is...

2006-05-17T10:22:00.000+10:00

Love Actually premiered on TV on Sunday. My assiduous housemates, in a rare moment of sanity, blew careless abandon to a slew of looming deadlines, and switched on the television set.

I love Love Actually, for the warm and fuzzy feelings (WAFF(s)) it brings on whenever I watch it. I am touched the portrayal of the possibilities, the freedom and the bitterness of Love. In short, love actually inspires us to hope; always.

A Waffy quote, at the beginning of the movie...

Whenever I get gloomy with the state of the world, I think about the arrivals gate at Heathrow Airport. General opinion's starting to make out that we live in a world of hatred and greed, but I don't see that. It seems to me that love is everywhere. Often it's not particularly dignified or newsworthy, but it's always there - fathers and sons, mothers and daughters, husbands and wives, boyfriends, girlfriends, old friends. When the planes hit the Twin Towers, as far as I know none of the phone calls from the people on board were messages of hate or revenge - they were all messages of love. If you look for it, I've got a sneaky feeling you'll find that love actually is all around

MJ & MSN

2006-05-15T21:10:00.000+10:00

Its been a poignant week for some of us.

One only has to start up MSN to encounter the palpable cry of broken hearts. Along the MSN nics of friends, were personal messages that ranged from "Hand over my heart", to "Love is nothing but a game of Lies and Deceit", to "Stabbed in the Heart", and "Love knows not its own depth, till the hour of separation".

Tired out from peering at lighted pixels and Frustrated by the drought of words, I tear myself away from my laptop and blasted the radio.

A familiar song aired. It is a Michael Jackson number; a ballad that has not graced the airwaves for eons.

"She's out of my life
She's out of my life
And I don't know whether to laugh or cry
I don't know whether to live or die
And it cuts like a knife
She's out of my life..."

*Shivers* his voice...!! Ok I confess I am a closet fan of MJ. I love the timbre of his voice on old ballads like "Ben", and lesser known "One day in your life". He executes the perfect balance of soothing timbre and heart-wrenching emotions in this song - She's out of my Life. The tune is lovely, (if only the lyrics werent so morose!).

Dedicating the above verse to all whose msn nics I have qouted. Its like that one lah! Take heart, at the universal nature of your pain. It is a necessary process, but you Will emerge from it, and at the end of it all, you realise one day that you are fine.

She's Out of My Life
Michael Jackson
Lyrics & Midi - http://www.walkthroughlife.com/midis/othermidis/shesoutomylife.htm

I yearn...

2006-05-14T23:08:00.000+10:00

I yearn...
to beautify my Soul.

to abide in you oh Lord
to be a fruitful vine..

I am unravelling
before You.
I found you,
looking for me.

I yearn...
for you to abide in me,
and whisper;
promises foretold
while I slumbered,
in my mothers womb

whisper them to me once more.
what seeds have you sown?
Have I grown as you would have me be?

I yearn.

A place I can't avoid

2006-05-12T23:52:00.000+10:00

This post is especially for a friend who slept with her hand over heart...

Its over. But I know you grieve.
If you must suffer, at least suffer gracefully :)

"At first I was very afraid of going places where H. and I had been happy - our favourite pub, our favourite wood. But I decided do it at once - like sending a pilot up again as soon as possible after he's had a crash. Unexpectedly, it makes no difference. Her absence is no more emphatic in those places than anywhere else. It's not local at all. I suppose that if one were forbidden all salt one wouldn't notice it much more in any one food than in another. Eating in general would be different, every day, at every meal. It is like that. The act of living is different all through. Her absence is like the sky, spread over everything.

But no, that is not quite accurate. There is no one place where her absences comes locally home to me, and it is a place I can't avoid. I mean my own body. It had such a different importance while it was the body of H's lover. Now it's like an empty house. But don't let me deceive myself. This body would become important to me again and pretty quickly, if I thought there was anything wrong with it."

C.S Lewis
A Grief Observed

Not for Anything (pt II): Love Language

2006-05-10T15:08:00.000+10:00

Not for anything... that seems like a romantic but obstacle-ridden, arduous endeavour. I think it pertinent to question what exactly should we attend to and how can we execute this care?

Coincidentally, my housemates today were talking and a particular phrase caught my attention “Love language”. It triggered the memory of a conversation with a little friend, who was explaining that we all have own love language – a familiar and particular way of communicating our love and receiving it.

In summary, there are 5 different ways through which we communicate our love for others and perceive love from others; 1) Words, 2) Touch, 3) Service, 4) Quality time, and 5) Gifts (simple description of terms below).

An awareness of each others love language is a move away from the abstractness of “love” and the associated emotions. It is a practical step to address the common problem of mismatched expectations or unfulfilled needs in relationships. While the concept is appears simple enough to comprehend, it is only prudent to anticipate and acknowledge sacrifices involved in realising the concept. Knowing that everyone has a unique way of wanting to be loved, and communicating their love for us, correspondingly requires the questioning/bending of our ideals on occasion – to step out of our comfort zone in communicating our care in the manner which our loved ones would like to receive it, or to learn to appreciate and accept the way we are loved by others.

On another note, if occurred to me that the concept of Love Language also encapsulates how I can take my daily walk with God. It is a succinct, palpable and efficient structure to grow and renew my little faith daily – to maintain my relationship with God. Words to and Quality time in prayer and contemplation; Service and Touch to brethren, sacrifices I can offer as Gifts to Him and others.

So, lets all be open to each other’s love language and exercise beyond mere cognition. Please remind me when I fail to attend yeah?

_________________________________________

Brief description of Love Language

Usually the way a person communicates love is the way that he/she perceives and prefers to receive it (eg: someone may feel loved by receiving little notes, and he/she leaves little notes for others to show love, or someone feels loved when showered with gifts, and returns the love by showering gifts to others). However, that is not a hard and fast rule, the preferred expression of love language may be dissimilar from the preferred language to be loved. To illustrate, think of our fathers who hail from a more traditional era. They convey their love by service of provision but would appreciate receiving love from us through quality time spent with them or touch/words to express our gratefulness, instead of a reciprocal provision of service.

Words: communicating through Words in speech, or writing. Eg: communicating/feeling loved by little notes of affection or hearing words of affection.

Touch: physical affection

Service: performing services for loved ones, eg: doing housework, being the breadwinner, running errands. Having help for daily needs.

Quality time: time put aside especially for the other for bonding (not as simple as merely watching a movie, which can be a rather individualistic activity)

Gifts: giving things or making things for others. Receiving presents.

Not For Anything (ptI): Cura Personalis

2006-05-10T15:02:00.000+10:00

The month of May brought forth great upheaval and great joy. Dear friends are getting engaged/married (Congratulations!!! and many blessings!!!! Hugzzzz), or are confronting crisis in their present relationships with loved ones/people around them (Hugzz too).

At mass this week, I was captured by a simple article reminding me what caring for the people around me translates to in daily living - to be faithful in attention, to constantly watch out for, through the inevitable ups and the downs.

I dedicate this article to all friends and the first two paras. especially to newly weds and about-to-weds, and searching-to-weds :)

NOT FOR ANYTHING
In Sydney last Saturday to celebrate a wedding, I read a piece entitled
“two of us” in Good Weekend. The last paragraph caught my attention and moved
me. Speaking about her marriage of 53 years with eminent medical scientist,
Derek Denton, Dame Margaret Scott, founder of the Australian ballet school, had
this to say: “I’ve always wanted to be with Dick. Of course, marriage is such a
constant change every day; sometimes it’s boring, sometimes its exciting,
sometimes it’s joyful, sometimes it’s awful. Who knows? I’ve never ever taken my
wedding ring off, not for anything, not even for repairs.”

When I read these words, I was remained of the true story some years ago when divers located a 400-year-old ship off the coast of Northern Ireland. Among the
treasures found on the sunken ship was a man’s wedding ring. When it was cleaned
up, the divers noticed that it had an inscription on it. Engraved on the wide
band was a hand holding a heart. Under the engraving was the inscription: “I
have nothing more to give you.”

Not for anything. I have nothing
more to give you. Stories of enduring love like this set the scene for this
weekend’s gospel of the Good Shepherd. If you have ever had the privilege and
good fortune to visit the Holy Land and see a shepherd in action, you would
surely have been struck by his constant care and watchfulness. Not for anything
would he abandon any one of this sheep and expose them to danger or loss. They
are his lifeblood. He knows and calls each one by name.

We speak a good deal these days about pastoral care. Indeed we even have pastoral councils advising us on the affairs of our parishes. That little word ‘care’ comes from
the Latin meaning ‘attention to’, ‘watching out for’, honouring the symptoms
before rushing to find a cure. Cure without proper care, as Peter Van Breeman
once said, is meaningless. We need to befriend problems before we can find a
proper solution to them.

To the extent that we watch out for others, we are all pastors. While we might not resonate with the rural connection here, we all have the responsibility of shepherding others, of attending to their welfare. In the Ignatian tradition, we call this cura personalis, watching out for and caring for the individual. For someone like
Ignatius, who was captivated by the fact that God knows us intimately and loves
us passionately as individual people, cura personalis was an essential
ingredient in his teaching. Good shepherding is about being watchful and
faithful in our care for others. Sometimes frustrated and disappointed, good
shepherds are ever hopeful and never walk away. Not for anything.

Fr Chris Gleeson SJ
Parish of St Ignatius
(Toowong)
Forth Sunday of Easter

A Grief Observed

2006-05-10T11:15:00.000+10:00

I picked up a thin, clothe bound, tattered little book that looked so incongruent amongst the thick shiny new textbooks belonging to my housemates, currently studying a course on counseling. The title of the book had long worn away. From the remaining slivers of silver dancing on a burgundy red spine, a faint “LEWIS” appeared. Could it be C.S Lewis? Intrigued, I flipped to the first page… and I suddenly found myself seated down, facing a man telling me his experience of his grief of loss…

No one told me that grief felt so like fear. I am not afraid, but the sensation is like being afraid. The same fluttering in the stomach, the same restlessness, the yawning. I keep on swallowing.

At other times it feels like being mildly drunk, or concussed. There is a sort of invisible blanket between the world and me. I find it hard to take in what anyone says. Or perhaps, hard to want to take it in. It is so uninteresting. Yet I want others to be about me. I dread the moments when the house is empty. If only they would talk to one another and not to me.

There are moments, most unexpectedly, when something inside me tries to assure me that I don’t really mind so much, not so very much, after all. Love is not the whole of a man’s life. I was happy before I ever met H. I’ve plenty of what are called ‘resources’. People get over these things. Come, I shan’t do so badly. One is ashamed to listen to this voice but it seems for a little to be making out a good case. Then comes a sudden jab of red-hot memory and all this ‘commonsense’ vanishes like an ant in the mouth of a furnace.”

A Grief Observed
C.S. Lewis(first 3 paragraphs)

I was mesmerized by the very first paragraph - the surreal tangibility of his honesty. Lewis also describes the tussles and convictions of his faith. Profoundly moving (Go get the book!). You may also be interested in reading about his marriage (it was a marriage of convenience, but they ended up falling in love). Would be good if someone can recommend me a reliable link to the life of C.S Lewis. Thanks! :)

Shalom my friend

2006-04-28T12:38:00.000+10:00

Our soul longs for Shalom.

Datta. Dayadhvam. Damyata

2006-04-23T22:30:00.000+10:00

2nd Sunday of Easter
Gist fr Mass at St Thomas Aquinas

Today's reading John 20:19-31, is the only one that is repeated every year because of the importance of the universal themes Faith, Forgiveness and Peace, expounded in the passage.

Faith, Forgiveness and Peace... These words slip flippantly from human lips. cliched and empty.

It is perhaps for this reason, that in the poem The Waste Land, T.S Eliot's chose to end his poem with three words borrowed from Sanskrit - Datta. Dayadhvam. Damyata - Give, sympathize, Control. These are acts which we can do to achieve Faith, Forgiveness and Peace.

Datta: what have we given?
My friend, blood shaking my heart
The awful daring of a moment's surrender
Which an age of prudence can never retract
By this, and this only, we have existed
Which is not to be found in our obituaries
Or in memories draped by the beneficent spider
Or under seals broken by the lean solicitor
In our empty rooms

Dayadhvam: I have heard the key
Turn in the door once and turn once only
We think of the key, each in his prison
Thinking of the key, each confirms a prison
Only at nightfall, aetherial rumours
Revive for a moment a broken Coriolanus

Damyata: The boat responded
Gaily, to the hand expert with sail and oar
The sea was calm, your heart would have responded
Gaily, when invited, beating obedient
To controlling hands

Give - to give of ourselves to God. In a marriage, it is the offering of ourselves to another, and sacrifices along the way.

Sympathise - it is only we are able to think not of ourselves, but to imagine and feel another's pain, that we can truly forgive.

Control - to act unselfishly, in disciplined obedience to achieve balance. Not to whip to obedience, but to allow an "expert hand" to maneuver. tandem. harmony. Peace.

You Needed Me?

2006-02-26T01:05:00.000+10:00

I am all flighty, wrapped up in the thrill of Broadway, no thanks to the upcoming staging of the West Side Story in Sg. I am uncertain why I am all excited even though I will not have the opportunity to watch it - ah... its the evil clutches of the magic of Broadway.

This evening, I heard a familiar tune on Class 95 that moved me and captivated me, in the manner that Broadway tunes do. There is a certain melodic strength of conviction and harmonic poignancy in the tune - human drama transposed to sonic composition - a very timeless tune.

I was curious to know what the lyrics conveyed. Not knowing anything about the song (as usual), I googled strains of the chorus as it faded on the radio, "...you needed me... you needed me".

I was pleasantly surprised the simplicity lyrics. The phrases were sharp, accessible (drama) and clichéd (at times) – all vital ingredients in a Broadway ;)

However, I realised that I didn’t understand the song. Specifically, I was perturbed by the line “you needed me.” – the very title of the song. Honestly, my first reaction to the song is that the person portrayed in this song is delusional.

We need others. In times of crisis, the only recourse may be to rely on loved ones to support and hope in us, while we ride it out and become moulded and strengthened in the process. The song suggests that the saving grace for the person in crisis was the fact that he/she perceived that he/she was needed by the other, even at the lowest and most ill esteemed point in their lives. The question is, was he/she actually needed by the other party? If so, in what sense was he/she needed? What role did he/she play in the life of the person who wiped the tear away and restored the dignity of the dearly distressed?

I still can’t quite figure it out. I think that its natural to stand by one another simply because we love them, as family, friends etc. The simple logic is this - I love them, I want them to be well, to be in my life, even when they are at their lowest I want them in life. In other words, I feel I need them in my life? Opinions anyone?

Another thought comes to mind, I love and need the Big Fellow up there; He has done for me all that is penned in the song. I wonder, will/does He need me per se? It’s a stupid question in know, He is omni-everything, there is nothing that He needs. Well... just curious…

You Needed Me (Anne Murray)
I cried a tear
You wiped it dry
I was confused
You cleared my mind
I sold my soul
You bought it back for me
And held me up and gave me dignity
Somehow you needed me.

Chorus:
You gave me strength
To stand alone again
To face the world
Out on my own again
You put me high upon a pedestal
So high that I could almost see eternity
You needed me
You needed me

And I can't believe it's you I can't believe it's true
I needed you and you were there
And I'll never leave, why should I leave
I'd be a fool
'Cause I've finally found someone who really cares

You held my hand
When it was cold
When I was lost
You took me home
You gave me hope
When I was at the end
And turned my lies
Back into truth again
You even called me friend

Repeat Chorus:
You needed me
You needed me

Colour me

2006-02-23T05:17:00.001+10:00

Feeling whimsical today. Wandered to MM's blog and was amused by the results of the colour, pseudo personality tests she posted. So I decided to venture yonder and amuse myself with my own...

FIRST UP: What Color Are You?brought to you by Quizilla

WHITES are motivated by PEACE, seek independence and require kindness. They resist
confrontation at all costs. (Feeling good is more important than being good.) They are typically quiet by nature, they process things very deeply and objectively, and they are by far the best listeners of all the colors. They respect people who are kind, but recoil from perceived hostility or verbal battle.

WHITES need their quiet independence and refuse to be controlled by others. WHITES want to do things their own way, in their own time. They ask little of others, and resent others demanding much of them. WHITES are much stronger than people think because they dont
reveal their feelings. WHITES are kind, non-discriminate, patient and can be indecisive, timid, and silently stubborn.

When you deal with a WHITE, be kind, accept (and support) their individuality, and look for nonverbal clues to their feelings.

So, in other words, I am a deceptive, and unscrupulous ("Feeling good is more important than being good"?!?!) possess potentially talent as a mime artist (nonverbal clues?!?).

MM says its quite me cos I need kindness more than her(???) Everybody needs a little kindness!

Laughs: 4/5

NEXT: What's your true colour?
http://web.tickle.com/color/?test=colorogt

You're brown, a credible, stable color that's reminiscent of fine wood, rich leather, and wistful melancholy. Most likely, you're a logical, practical person ruled more by your head than your heart. With your inquisitive mind and insatiable curiosity, you're probably a great problem solver. And you always gather all of the facts before coming to a timely, informed decision. Easily intrigued, you're constantly finding new ways to challenge your mind, whether it's by reading the newspaper, playing a trivia game, or composing a piece of music. Brown is an impartial, neutral color, which means you tend to see the difference between fact and opinion easily and are open to many points of view. Trustworthy and steady, you really are a brown at heart.

Brown?!
First white, then brown?
I am a cow.

I am thinking more Dark Blue... Midnight Teal Blue... anything but eeky Brown.
(Why are my colours so 'edible'? velvety dark brown choc... creamy white vanilla icecream..)
Why can't they have things like Fuschia or Turqoise, those are nice 'personality' colours!

mm has blues... so pretty.
I am adverse to Brown as a personality lah; I'd better stick to a non-coloured personality test...

Laughs: -1/5

LAST INDULGENCE: A very monochrome Picto-Personality Test

The Picto-Personality Test

You are a person who lives in the moment and is passionate about whatever and whoever you love.

When alone, you appreciate being able to do nothing if you want to, and setting your own pace for things.

You are intelligent. You use your time to its fullest potential and will go very far in life.

In the future you will be very wealthy. You have the ambition and the drive to make a lot of money.

Take this Test at QuizGalaxy.com

This I like! I will "go very far in life", and in the future I will be "very wealthy".
uh huh. yeah right.
i just bit into a fortune cookie
Laughs: 10/5

Birthday 2006 - O Me! O Life!

2006-02-22T03:43:00.000+10:00

I love the month of February!

O ME! O life!... of the questions of these recurring;
Of the endless trains of the faithless—of cities fill’d with the foolish;
Of myself forever reproaching myself, (for who more foolish than I, and who more faithless?)
Of eyes that vainly crave the light—of the objects mean—of the struggle ever renew’d;
Of the poor results of all—of the plodding and sordid crowds I see around me;
Of the empty and useless years of the rest—with the rest me intertwined;
The question, O me! so sad, recurring—What good amid these, O me, O life?

Answer.
That you are here—that life exists, and identity;
That the powerful play goes on, and you will contribute a verse.

- O Me! O Life! (Walt Whitman) -

This year I have been wined and dined and serenaded to many times over :) Thank you all!

In Chronological Order...
HC: girls at HC for a night of Salsa, beautiful cake and a sumptious farewell dinner!
mn&dar: for the wonderful dimsum extravaganza and Lana's choc bday cake
tofuman & godazz: Dinner at Seah Str. Deli
mm: Shout shout let it all out!!! Thank you for the tears for fears CD!
ad in melb: yes! the day, and actually the whole entire month was filled with Joy and Blessings! :)
er&mn: Oyishi! fannwong&chrisLee

j: turkish apple tea!
af: for ur sweet voice
wl: for the touching sms... for the invaluable insight *moved*
tofuman: Surprise! for ur not so sweet voice, just as the clock chimed 12 :) We ran the gamut didnt we? Leaving on a Jet Plane, Bohemian Rhapsody, Love Is A Many Splendoured Thing, Tell Laura, The Rose, Jacky Cheung(!!), Wu Si Kai, Fly Me To The Moon, and THAT chinese song...

shif & mane: lovely sms-es :)

lks,mhan,clest & jm: thank you for your prayers and well wishess

SX:coy coy. complete and msn nic :)

tofuman: pt II. where on earth did u find all the MP3s!?

to be continued...

Birthday

2006-02-10T15:43:00.000+10:00

In 2005 I was in Brisbane, bunking over at a friend’s house. Selva and I were both transitorily ‘homeless’ on foreign soil and camped out in the living room for two weeks. Was doing a little housekeeping and discovered this draft. I am not sure why I had not posted this ... well its nearing my birthday once again. Better now then ever :)

1.34am, Feb 22, 2005.

It is my birthday today. Another year passed. I wake up not feeling any older, nor wiser. Two days ago, I had a short conversation with a fellow 'refugee', Selva. "No one has the right to die", he finally said after a long pause.

It was 1am, we were both unable to sleep because of the summer heat. I was up reading an article by William Charlton, who philosophised the meaning of dying and argues that the phrase "the right to die" should really be "the right to be killed or be killed". "... in fact, we do not even have a right to be born", Selva says with much conviction. "We did not ask to be born, and in the same way, we cannot ask to die."

Selva practises Hinduism. He believes that God's power is only manifested if man allows it or wills it. "He lives in here...", he points to his heart. "When we are born, God is born, and Satan is born too"

I try not to think that my sacred passage into the world is accompanied by such an unwelcome entity. But its too late - my imagination gets the better of me. I take a moment to purge the visions out of my head.

I try to think what it must have been like to be Born; but I carry no memory of the moment I was born into this world. However, I can imagine...
Sensorial bombardment,
Contractions and pulsations
Turmoil.
Anxious blinding distress
Amniotic turbulence.
Violent transitions
Wild uncertainty.
Strength.
Fatigue.
Muffled cries
of both child and mother –
The unstoppable sheer instinctive will
To live
and to let live.
this world;
Blood
Air
Light
Sound
Touch
Love

Hmmm… Birth, is actually a dangerous and traumatic experience, for both mother and child. Prior to this, I had not given the matter much thought and merely subscribed to a rosy, Hollywood glamorous, picture of birth.

I can understand why the Selva believes that the devil accompanies us at birth. The temptation for mother and child to give up the struggle of the transition must have been great. Yet, yet our mothers did not, despite experiencing indescribable acute pain. And even as tiny fledgings, we too have somehow persevered and survived birth. We trusted our mothers and followed the beat of our hearts to be Born.

I can’t see anything. I can only hear my heart beating, in the silence of the night, as I lay nestled cosily in my sleeping bag. I smile and snuggle into a foetal ball...

I am comforted too that friends will somehow pull through the doldrums; afterall, they already survived the worst - they were Born.

Thank you God, thank you for everything. This birthday, I am content; knowing that if God delivered me through my own birth, He will deliver me through and through.

Fret not

2006-02-09T04:15:00.000+10:00

Fish bite moonbeams every night...

2006-02-07T03:30:00.001+10:00

Godspeed
-Dixie Chicks-

Dragon tales and the "water is wide"
Pirate's sail and lost boys fly
Fish bite moonbeams every night
And I love you

Godspeed, little man
Sweet dreams, little man
Oh my love will fly to you each night on angels wings
Godspeed
Sweet dreams

The rocket racer's all tuckered out
Superman's in pajamas on the couch
Goodnight moon, we'll find the mouse
And I love you

Godspeed, little man
Sweet dreams, little man
Oh my love will fly to you each night on angels wings
Godspeed
Sweet dreams

God bless mommy and match box cars
God bless dad and thanks for the stars
God hears "Amen," wherever we are
And I love you

Godspeed, little man
Sweet dreams, little man
Oh my love will fly to you each night on angels wings
Godspeed
Godspeed
Godspeed
Sweet dreams

Don't you just want to cuddle a tiny little todd right now... Awwwww...

Between Breaks...

2006-02-07T02:33:00.000+10:00

Took a little break from writing and ventured out of my sty to sniff out some munchies. Outside, mum lay sound asleep on the sofa while the TV blared with abandon the excruciatingly irritating incessant bleep of a flatline. I looked to the TV - Grey's Anatomy was on. I looked to my mum again - she remained dead to the world. I continue to scavenge.

As I was foraging, a tired, contemplative, strong voice stirred in my ears; Meredith Grey had caught my attention...

A couple of hundred years ago, Benjamin Franklin shared with the world the secret of his success. Never leave that till tomorrow, he said, which you can do today. This is the man who discovered electricity. You think more people would listen to what he had to say.
I don't know why we put things off, but if I had to guess, I'd have to say it has a lot to do with fear. Fear of failure, fear of rejection, sometimes the fear is just of making a decision, because what if you're wrong? What if you're making a mistake you can't undo?
The early bird catches the worm. A stitch in time saves nine. He who hesitates is lost. We can't pretend we hadn't been told. We've all heard the proverbs, heard the philosophers, heard our grandparents warning us about wasted time, heard the damn poets urging us to seize the day.
Still sometimes we have to see for ourselves. We have to make our own mistakes. We have to learn our own lessons. We have to sweep today's possibility under tomorrow's rug until we can't anymore. Until we finally understand for ourselves what Benjamin Franklin really meant. That knowing is better than wondering, that waking is better than sleeping, and even the biggest failure, even the worst intractable mistake, beats the hell out of never trying.

I return to my sty...

November Rain...

2005-11-09T02:52:00.000+10:00

Tired of avoiding the puddles, I stomped into one deliberately. There! now the ends of my pants are tolerably thoroughly wet and not merely splattered damp - which is very irksomely irritating :)

It is November.
It is raining.
The raindrops fall lightly.

As I manoeuver my way clumsily to the bus-stop in noisy heels, I realise how gracefully time slipped by - in a colourful dance.

Time slipped by;
a fleeting shadow
escaping my glance

I am surprised at how fast time flies! Almost a year has passed. A myriad of events has transpired and yet, very little has been accomplished.

Time slipped by,
in a colourful dance,
like a performance
ending all too soon.

There is something blissful and quietly enigmatic about rain in November. Rain in March provides functional cool respite and rain in June or July is not quite as romantic. Perhaps November rains signal the year coming to end, a preparation for the preparation of all the upcoming festivities in December! Or perhaps November represents a lulling to the busy-ness; December is always bustling to keep warm from the cold of a years end - yet another year gone.

The storm has passed.
It is drizzling now.
I am walking,
And it´s hard to hold a candle
In the cold November rain.

While indulging in my girlish delight pattering around the puddles, I am transported back to my secondary school days where a couple of friends and I splish-splashed in the old basketball court of our alma mater, hollering angst ridden Guns and Roses numbers amidst a light drizzle. Ah! those were the days.

And it´s hard to hold a candle
In the cold November rain.

I am one of those people (yes there ARE others like me - who perpetually fail the listening comprehension component in primary school) who remain completely ignorant of the lyrics (includes song title and singer), save for the chorus or few catchy lines when attracted by a good tune. Therefore, all of you who know me would agree that it is three-fold miracle, that I can recall TWO lines from a G&R song that is titled November Rain. I have no inkling what the song is about.

"...And it´s hard to hold a candle, In the cold November rain" (Ok, it may be one sentence but it straddles TWO musical phases!) An imagery of a flood of stick figures each holding a lit candle, streaming in all directions and bustling past each other vividly comes to mind. Some ram into each other and their lights go out. Others walk too furiously and too far till they find themselves in darkness when their flame gets extinguised by the brutal winds they generate at such dizzy speeds. Still others simply lost their fire as they walk through the storm. But all around little fires are still aglow with fight and warmth. The initial panick is quelled by a passing flickering light... when a candle expires, all is not lost, the little stick figures just relight their candles and continue on their journey.

Though its hard to hold a candle
In the cold November rain.
I hold one faithfully
A flicker of Your gentle might.

Wherefore I traverse,
May it light
Paths of fellow earthly farers
And may they light mine
When its hard to hold a candle
In the cold November rain.

apart from you....

2005-10-28T01:09:00.000+10:00

JM as usual was abuzz with thoughts and questions. JM was wondering whether we could be truly and fully 'transparent' in front of friends or anyone else residing on earth. I pondered...

I suppose we all yearn for acceptance - acceptance for who we are, the good and the bad, the ying and the yang, acceptance in totality. Thats why we also long to be transparent to someone, to know that we can be accepted and loved just the way we are, for our imperfections. For most, this person would be the significant other.Perhaps thats why break-ups hurt as much as they do, because the person whom you've bared your soul to; who presumably knows you best, rejects you. As humans, we are all fallible and subject to making judgement based on imperfect knowledge about ourselves and others.

In response to JM's qn: I do not think I can be fully transparent in front of one person, perhaps certain aspects, but not all at once. The only 'person' who knows me through and through is my Maker. JM proceeded to qoute a favourite verse -

apart from you, lord, there is nothing good within me.
Psalm 6:12

The simplicity and vividness of the verse gave me delicious goosebumps - a sweet pleasurable awesome nugget of wisdom... As I contemplate on the verse, I realise that it will probably take some time for me to fully appreciate it meaning. In the meantime, as I struggle with the daily-ness and the busy worldliness; as I struggle with my humanity, I am wont to lose sight of God... and soon, I'd find myself lost. In such moments, I am always reminded of this beautiful hymn... Enjoy :)

Turn Your Eyes Upon Jesus
Turn your eyes upon Jesus,
Look full in His wonderful face,
And the things of earth will grow strangely dim,
In the light of His Glory and Grace.

Let us fix our eyes on Jesus.
Hebrews 12:2

Shawshank - a longing fulfilled

2005-10-26T01:56:00.000+10:00

Hope deferred makes the heart sick, but a longing fulfilled is a tree of life. (Proverbs 13:12)

JM and I were trying to establish which movies we could rip from each others HD when we realised we both have the classic THE SHAWSHANK REDEMPTION. I have watched the movie twice, but never had insight like that of JM. Below is an excerpt of JM's msn ramblings.

This film reminds me of the verse "a longing fulfilled is a tree of life". It makes me feel that "hoping in God" "may" be the best thing to do on earth.

The main actor, Robbins, never felt he belongs to the prison. Only he knew that he is innocent of the murder that landed him in the prison. He makes the most out of every opportunity he had when he was in the prison, from having the library renovated and funded, teaching people who wants to learn,...etc.

It makes me to think that we are also passing by earth. We must not feel that we belong here....like what most people would have... when they get "institutionalised"... like what Morgan Freeman said in the show. We can get easily "entangled" with the world... and not realise that we have a higher purpose here.

I have always thought myself as a worldly being, a creature inundated with an worldly material, gadgets and what-nots. My passion for the sensorial is insatiable. Who can resist the sights, sounds and taste of this world - words that evoke and excite, smells that calm and flood me with nostalgia, foods that warm you and make you quiver with happiness, music that engulfs my being and speaks to my soul, visual fare that astounds and moves me to depths and breadths I am not acquainted with - who can resist?

Of late however, several events have jolted me out of my comfort zone and prompted a penetrating examination of my lexicon. During a supervision period my supervisor was attempting to explain the cyclical nature of events that plague families, using a biblical perspective. Try as I might, I have no recollection of what I had asked, said or did that inspired her to spring up from her seat and exclaim "so the verse this morning was for you!" She read...

Put on the full armor of God so that you can take your stand against the devil's schemes. For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms. Therefore put on the full armor of God, so that when the day of evil comes, you may be able to stand your ground, and after you have done everything, to stand. (Ephesians 6:11-13)

Although the passage appears disconcerting, it is very apt for reasons I can't blog due to corporate confidentiality (btw, the building where I work is a historical site utilised by the Japanese as a place of torture). Anyhow, the thrust of the supervision is that the spiritual does exist, and that we must recognise ourselves as spiritual beings.

alrite, sleeeepy. to be continued....

Congenital Complacency

2005-10-25T02:30:00.000+10:00

"... I am telling all this because, although in Ecclesiastes, it says there is a time to rend and a time to sew, sometimes the time to rend leaves deep scars. Being with someone else and making that person feel as if they were of no importance in our life is far worse than feeling alone and miserable in the streets of Geneva." (Taken from: The Zahir by Paulo Coelho)

In the book The Zahir, Paulo Coelho examines the nature of love in the capacity of a human being. In one particular chapter, he recalls the time he felt utterly alone while in the beautiful city of Geneva, and regrets not paying more attention to his wife, who has gone missing.

I am particularly struck by this passage.

Whilst most people would be moved by Coelho's subject matter of romantic love, the passage saliently depicts the brutal truth of my congenital complacency towards my family.

How often have I returned home to the familiar faces of family, utter feeble tired little hellos, mumble about my day and proceed to my room? How often have I tuned out when a family member tells me about their day, because I am tuning in to the latest episode of CSI...

I am often so tired after a long day of work and tuition that I simply just have enough energy to space out and vegetate in front of the TV before dozing off. I am so preoccupied with myself and plans of what I have to do the next day that I completely neglect the people around me who shower me with love... "tell me tomorrow" or "sorry, tell me in a while, let me watch this first okie" etc. I never thought my selfishness could be so cruel.

Note to self: I lurrve my mummy, my daddy and my brosey! Shall drown them with a deluge of my daily adventures and misadventures and hope they heap me with a huge dollop of theirs as well! :)

Mr Pants

2005-10-19T02:58:00.000+10:00

Ok i cheat. The following entry on Sept 8th was blogged by mich cos i was too lazy to blog and she was too amused not to blog. Anyhow, I am putting it up and including my own current entry (Oct 17) so that you people can read it for yourselves and I won't have to repeat myself silly. enjoy :)

Sept 8:
My friend SudahS, just had a very amusing encounter lately. She got introduced to this Ah Beng guy by her friends. Her friend then tries to fix them up by giving her number to this guy (without her knowledge).

The next day, SudahS gets smses from this guy, whom she barely knows, (in barely coherent english btw)...asking her out for a date. Initial reaction from SudahS are shrieks of "Ee-yer!!!!!". Then, SudahS gets furious at her friend because she is not interested in dating now, and furthermore, she can't even remember how the guy remotely looks like. All she CAN recall, is tt he was wearing pants. (Henceforth, the guy will be known as Mr Pants.)

SudahS calls up her friend demanding an explanation for the unneccessary mess she's in now. Her friend's reply "but he's a good catch what! He's from the national water polo team, check out his bod man! Somemore ah, he help his mother do housework leh!"

SudahS then sarcastically points out tt even psycho murderers might be involved in charity work/ help their mums do the washing. Perhaps these psychos could qualify as great 'catches' too? (This reminds me of how my mum often complains abt her single daughter being fussy with guys: "Why so fussy? Got job, don't drink, don't smoke can oredi what!" My mum certainly has high expectations for me. Ah, my sweet family!)

Anyway, SudahS's friend tries to clear up the mess and explain things to Mr Pants. Mr Pants calls/ smses to apologise for "being frightening....n not having enuff foresight" and to say that he hopes to meet her before she leaves for Australia. SudahS is amazed that the word 'foresight' is part of his vocab. Then she politely entertains him by agreeing.

Next day, it seems like Mr Pants still hasn't gotten the point. SudahS awakes to an sms that says 'Good morning PAL!'. A perplexed SudahS thinks "who's your freaking pal man???" But after calming down, SudahS moves beyond frustration, to a state of tickled amusement. She now secretly looks forward to Mr Pant's smses...just to laugh at the funny msges he sends.

At night, SudahS recounts the tale to Mich. Mich and SudahS roar in laughter over the amusing antics of Mr Pants, and her 'wonderful' friends who fix her up with 'cannot-make-it' guys. It just seems so 'Bridget Jones' doesn't it?Classic 'nightmares' in the dating scene. Hahaha! I think some of you might be able to identify.

My reply to her entrysudahSayang said...
Aiyah... mich, you make us sound like meanies.
ok, to be fair, I have no idea who Mr Pants is as a person (that has been clearly established by mich). For all I know, he MAY NOT be a serial killer (We may never find out).

In fact, he may be, just as my friend has described; ie a sweet, innocent, boy who helps mum with housework and who has a buff bod (ok mich, keep whatever comments at this juncture to self).

So Mr Pants, if you are reading this, it was simply bimbotic indulgence at the end of a loooong day. Please don't be offended.

In the meantime:
I was not convinced.

Although there were redeeming qualities about him (he is Great with kids!!!- my soft spot...), I know he is not right for me. In the words of mich "there are other things to consider lor". FYI Mr Pants is Buddhist, and does not have a degree (it matters to him) and he makes pervy jokes (i am allergic to pervy jokes).

Friends have been squealing that he is hunk etc and the evolutionary drives of my PMS do not help matters. Nevertheless, I kept guarded and cautious and sent out all the negative signals as subtly as I could (sg is too small to make enemies and hey, he COULD still be a serial killer).

I have kept in touch with him because he has impressed me with his charity. He runs a company on the side, that provides swimming lessons and art lessons integrated with a creative thinking component for kids. His vision is to simply let these kids play, have fun and bask in their own unique qualities - where every child is happy and healthy, where piece of their creation is a masterpiece; there is no right or wrong, no judgements to be made, only a celebration of originality. The profits from the company are then used to sponsor these classes for orphans. Very laudable right?

However, if you do recall, Mr Pants not the most eloquent of souls; I was utterly horrified when I surfed his company's website and was greeted by grammar errors galore! It pained me to see such a beautiful idea tarred by the mutilation of the language... cannot make it lor. Thus, I volunteered to correct the errors and even advise on the content (which incidentally may be fodder for new thesis topic!). The communication between us (email and the occasional sms) was only kept alive because I saw this as a worthy cause.

It is not long before Mr Pants gets the message and says in a meek voice "I know are not interested in me". I did not quite know how to respond to that...

Oct 17:
I met up with Mr Pants and had dinner with his new love interest! I had an intuition that Mr Pants is a player... I have told him that in this face and I don't think I am proven wrong ;)

The strange turn of events offered me relief, but most importantly, I had an entirely enjoyable time! The love interest and I hit it off so well, that I think for moment it seemed a little surreal... Poor poor Mr Pants sat quietly by the candlelight looking on as we forgot about him in our laughter...

Ah well, the new love interest and Mr Pants look compatible as a couple :) I wish them well.

Overheard: Bitches, Sluts; Good girls and Nice girls

2005-10-19T01:57:00.000+10:00

Overheard:

What is the difference between a Bitch and a Slut?
- A slut will sleep with everyone; a bitch will sleep with everyone but yourself.

What is the difference between a Good girl and Nice girl?
- A good girl sleeps at home. A nice girl sleeps then goes home.

Very funny meh!?!

Don't understand the allure of pervy jokes lor! Grown sg men beside themselves with glee. Not at all gallant. The demise of witty humour is nothing short of a national tragedy.

Be Still...

2005-10-17T14:27:00.000+10:00

Much has happened recently. I am forced once again to confront my indecision.

I have perhaps been busying myself to shut the pain from last year. The journey has been nothing short of wonderous! It is a year of self-discovery, validation and healing. However, the more I enjoyed my new found busy-ness, the more I found myself addicted to it.

I am hooked on working, on writing, on beer, on reading, on meeting people, on swimming at 6.30am in the mornings, on taking walks at 11pm, on msn-ing till 1am... on the convenience of packing my time with 'busy' things and people. So utterly am I seduced by the adrenaline pumping in my veins, that I forget that it is Blood that is supposed to flood my veins and flush me with life - life that is has been breathed into me by God.

My God is an enormously loving God. Everytime I stray, he surrounds me with gentle reminders; soft whispers to tell me to come back to Him. Amidst the noise and excitement that masks the emptiness, I can hear him commanding me to Be Still...

Let Your God Love You
Be Silent
Be Still
Alone: Empty
Before your God
Say nothing
Ask nothing

Be Silent
Be Still
Let your God
look upon you
That is all

He know
He understands
He loves you with
an enormous love
He only wants to look
upon you with His love
Quiet : Be Still
Let you God – love you

taken from http://www.catholic.org.sg/sojourners/about%20us.htm

Sit, drink your coffee

2005-10-09T03:51:00.000+10:00

Sit, drink your coffee here; your work can wait awhile.
You’re twenty-six, and still have some of life ahead.
No need for wit; just talk vacuities, and I’ll
Reciprocate in kind, or laugh at you instead.

The world is too opaque, distressing and profound.
This twenty minutes’ rendezvous will make my day:
To sit here in the sun, with grackles all around,
Staring with beady eyes, and you two feet away.

– Vickram Seth

The Rhythm is going to get you? (WIP)

2005-02-13T17:20:00.000+10:00

Feb 12th. I awake to strains of Gloria Estefan's "...O eh, o eh, o eh, oo aah "

"Hmm.. perky." I smiled to myself and snuggled further under the sheets, expecting the familiar tune to pick me up from the lingering fuzziness of a strange dream involving the 'ex'. As I closed my eyes and hummed along, a strange thing happened...
"At night when you turn off all the lights,
There's no place that you can hide
Oh no, the rhythm is gonna get'cha "

the words leapt out at me...
"In bed, throw the covers on your head
You pretend like you are dead
But I know it "

and remnants of my dream leach into my conciousness...
"The rhythm is gonna get'cha
No way, you can fight it every day
But no matter what you say
You know it
The rhythm is gonna get'cha
No clue, of what's happening to you
And before this night is through
Ooh baby, The rhythm is gon.."

I wince and leap for the dial.

By now I am fully awake. The realisation that such an upbeat catchy tune disguised such lame and twisted lyrics, both shocked and amused me. Of the zillion times I have heard this song played over the air, I have never 'heard' the lyrics, save of course for the unforgettable chorus.

In the hours to come, there was an incursion of Gloria Estefan songs on the airwaves of three radio stations in three different countries; a Brisbane station in Au, BBC radio 2 in UK and Class 95 in Sg. The radio is an evil, evil machine. Come February, radio stations all over the world conspire to prey on the suppressed memories of those feeling a tad fragile. My best friend in the mornings, suddenly tranforms into an insidious contraption belting out mini missiles that lock onto the intended target; relentless and single-minded in pursuit. They seek you out wherever you are, whatever you are doing. There is nowhere to hide. Intuitively they hit where its most tender; vulnerable spaces you had not even discovered nor expected. And slowly each penetrates, blow by blow, line by line - the words register and conjure.

Lyrics that I have been oblivious to all this while, drown out the familiar tune, "...I realize you're seein' someone new..."; like an intrusive narration, living in my head, "...I've finally found, The courage to stand my ground." I can hear every word, "...I don't wanna lose you now ", replay every poignant moment, "...But if you want me I'll be around, forever...". Pure evil.

I resolve to TAO my way out of this. Its all in the mind. As I attempt to tame it, more questions roll in my head. Why am I having all these thoughts? Why are my sense suddenly heightened? How did Gloria Estefan read my mind? etc...

Eventually, the words of a good friend parted the tumult. When all others tried to encourage me by reminding me that time will heal etc, she merely said "but it happens to everybody, and they learn to get over it." Soon more voices flood my head, I begin to recall snippets of conversations with friends, my head is abuzz with TAO.

The lyricist are not evil telepathics, they are human. The lyrics exist because someone understands the myriad of human emotions, fears, regrets. They have either experienced it or empathise with the complex quandaries faced; of bitter sweet hope, strength and weakness. Of pain and love, of deprivation and excessiveness, of strength and weakness, thesis and anti-thesis.

I am perhaps experiencing Synthesis, the awareness of the existence of both. A culmination of my mind and body becoming aware to what has happened and attuning itself to accept, actively. There must be a reason why my senses are heightened, in this time and place. (Yes, even to pop culture and has-beens like gloria estefan). It is the mystery of culture and the delicacy of living; a human existence. A tangible echoing existence. "It happens to everyone" - enjoy the rhythm of life; Layer upon layer of human flavour. Let not the words get in the way.

Words Get In The Way
(Gloria Estefan)
I realize you're seein' someone new, I don't believe she knows you like I do
Your temperamental moody side, the one you always try to hide from me
But I know when you have something on your mind
You've been tryin' to tell me for the longest time
And before you break my heart in two
There's something I've been trying to say to you

Chorus:
But the words get in the way, there's so much I want to say
But it's locked deep inside, and if you look in my eyes
We might fall in love again
Won't even start to cry, and before we say goodbye
I tried(try) to say I love you, but the words got(get) in the way

Your heart has always been an open door
But baby I don't even know you anymore
And despite the fact it's hurting me, I know the time has come to set you free

Don't Wanna Lose You
(Gloria Estefan)
Sometimes it's hard to make things clear
Or know when to face the truth
And I know that the moment is here
I'll open my heart and show you inside
My love has no pride
I feel with you I've got nothing to hide
So open your eyes and see who I am
And not who you want for me to be
I am only myself, myself
I don't wanna lose you now
We're gonna get through somehow
I don't wanna lose you now or ever
'Cause baby I've finally found
The courage to stand my ground
But if you want me
I'll be around, forever
We all make mistakes, we all lose our way
But we stood the test of time and I hope
That's the way it will stay
It's all up to you, to tell me to go
'Cause it won't be me to walk away
When you're all that I know
And I know that
I don't wanna lose you now
We're gonna get through somehow
I don't wanna lose you now or ever
'Cause baby I've finally found
The courage to stand my ground
But if you want me
I'll be around, forever

The StoneCutter

2005-02-11T22:28:00.000+10:00

My friend J. says "I never knew Chinese Philosophers were so intellectual and I am enlightened reading the book (The Tao of Pooh)".

An excerpt from 'The Tao of Pooh', contributed by J.
There was once a stonecutter, who was dissastified with himself and with his position in life.One day, he passed a wealthy merchant's house, and through the open gateway, saw many fine possessions and important visitors. "How powerful that merchant must be!" thought the stonecutter. He became very envious, and wished that he could be like the merchant. Then hewould no longer have to live the life of a mere stonecutter.

To his great surprise, he suddenly became the merchant, enjoying more luxuries and power than he had ever dreamed of, envied and detested bythose less wealthy than himself. But soon a high official passed by, carried in a sedan chair, accompanied by attendants, and escorted by soldiers beating gongs. Everyone, no matter how wealthy, had to bow low before the procession. "How powerful that official is!" he thought. "I wish that I could be a high official!"

Then he became the high official, carried everywhere in his embroidered sedan chair, feared and hated by the people all around, who had to bow down before him as he passed. It was a hot summer day,and the official felt very uncomfortable in the sticky sedan chair. He looked up at the sun. It shone proudly in the sky, unaffected by hispresence. "How powerful the sun is!" he thought. "I wish that I could be the sun!"

Then he became the sun, shining fiercely down on everyone, scorching the fields, cursed by the famers and labourers. But a huge black cloud moved between him and the earth, so that his light could no longer shine on everything below. "how powerful that storm cloud is!" he thought. "I wish that I could be a cloud!"

Then he became the cloud, flooding fields and villages, shouted at byeveryone. But soon he found that he was being pushed away by some great force, and realised that it was the wind. "How powerful it is!"he thought. "I wish that I could be the wind!"

Then he became the wind, blowing tiles off the roofs of houses,uprooting trees, hated and feared by all below him. But after a while, he ran up against something that would not move, no matter how forcefully he blew against the huge, towering stone. "How powerful that stone is!" he thought. "I wish that I could be a stone!"

Then he became the stone, more powerful than anything else on earth. But as he stood there, he heard the sound of a hammer pounding a chisel into the solid rock, and felt himself being changed. "What could be more powerful than I, the stone?" he thought. He looked down and saw far below him the figure of a stonecutter.

Change Upon Change

2005-02-11T22:26:00.000+10:00

Change Upon Change
by Elizabeth Barrett Browning.

Five months ago the stream did flow,
The lilies bloomed within the sedge,
And we were lingering to and fro,
Where none will track thee in this snow,
Along the stream, beside the hedge.
Ah, Sweet, be free to love and go!
For if I do not hear thy foot,
The frozen river is as mute,
The flowers have dried down to the root:
And why, since these be changed since May,
Shouldst thou change less than they.

And slow, slow as the winter snow
The tears have drifted to mine eyes;
And my poor cheeks, five months ago
Set blushing at thy praises so,
Put paleness on for a disguise.
Ah, Sweet, be free to praise and go!
For if my face is turned too pale,
It was thine oath that first did fail, -
It was thy love proved false and frail, -
And why, since these be changed now,
Should I change less than thou.

sudah Sayang...

2005-02-09T23:14:00.000+10:00

Friends who don't understand malay ask me "what is sudah sayang", friends who do, ask me "why sudah sayang"? I shall answer both.

WHAT?
Sudah and Sayang are both Malay words that take on subtle differences in meaning depending on context. So sudah sayang can take on any permutation of the meanings stated below.

sudah = enough, already, enough already, it's finished, by now, forget it.
sayang = dear, darling, love

WHY?

This Blog is a/an: ego trip, cartharsis, delusion, closure, experiment, temptation, distraction, new toy, gentle chiding, marcotting...

Sudah sayang

My love,

enough already.
stop the torture, spare me the lies.
the uncertainty must cease;
Now.
My darling,
enough already...

Sudah sayang

My self,
its finished.
forget it.
enough, my dear
you have tortured yourself
enough, already...

My dear...
Time to heal.

enough already.

Let it go,
sudah, sayang...

I Am

2005-02-09T09:45:00.000+10:00

(unknown)
I was regretting the past and fearing the future.
suddenly my Lord was speaking.
My name is I Am
He paused and I waited. He continued...

When you live in the past
with its mistakes and regrets
it's hard, cos I am not there
my name is not 'I Was'

When you live in the future,
with its problems and fears,
its hard, i am not there,
for my name is not 'I Will Be'

When you live in this moment,
it's not hard,
for I am here.
my name is 'I AM'
A friend sent this to me via msn. Thank you friend :)

To feel guilty is to live in the past; to dwell on our guilty feelings over things that are our fault, or even over things that aren't our fault, but we fear might be. Soon guilt upon guilt piles up to become a burden that is literally unbearable. No amount of consoling and rationalising from the people around you can rid you of the profound sense of guilt inside. Then the realisation hits... only God's forgiveness can release us from penalty of our past and fears.

Carrots, Eggs and Coffee

2005-02-07T14:16:00.000+10:00

one of those emails that percolate...

A young woman went to her mother and told her about her life and how things were so hard for her. She did not know how she was going to make it and wanted to give up. She was tired of fighting and struggling. It seemed asone problem was solved, a new one arose.

Her mother took her to the kitchen. She filled three pots with water and placed each on a high fire. Soon the pots came to boil. In the first she placed carrots, in the second she placed eggs, and in the last she placedground coffee beans. She let them sit and boil, without saying a word.

In about twenty minutes she turned off the burners. She fished the carrotsout and placed them in a bowl. She pulled the eggs out and placed them in abowl. Then she ladled the coffee out and placed it in a bowl. Turning to her daughter, she asked, "Tell me, what do you see?""Carrots, eggs, and coffee," she replied.

Her mother brought her closer and asked her to feel the carrots. She did and noted that they were soft.The mother then asked the daughter to take an egg and break it. After pulling off the shell, she observed the hard boiled egg.

Finally, the mother asked the daughter to sip the coffee. The daughter smiled as she tasted itsrich aroma.The daughter then asked, "What does it mean, mother?"

Her mother explained that each of these objects had faced the same adversity... boiling water. Each reacted differently. The carrot went in strong, hard, and unrelenting. However, after being subjected to the boiling water, it softened and became weak. The egg had been fragile. Its thin outer shell had protected its liquid interior, but after sitting through the boiling water, its inside became hardened.

The ground coffee beans were unique, however. After they were in theboilingwater, they had changed the water. "Which are you?" she asked her daughter."When adversity knocks on your door, how do you respond? Are you a carrot,an egg or a coffee bean?"

Think of this: Which am I?Am I the carrot that seems strong, but with pain and adversity do I wilt and become soft and lose my strength?

Am I the egg that starts with a malleable heart, but changes with the heat? Did I have a fluid spirit, but after a death, a breakup, a financial hardship or some other trial, have I become hardened and stiff? Does my shell look the same, but on the inside am I bitter and tough with a stiffspirit and hardened heart?

Or am I like the coffee bean? The bean actually changes the hot water, the very circumstance that brings the pain. When the water gets hot, it releases the fragrance andflavor.If you are like the bean, when things are at their worst, you get betterandchange the situation around you.When the hour is the darkest and trials are their greatest, do you elevateyourself to another level?How do you handle adversity?

Are you a carrot, an egg or a coffee bean?May you have enough happiness to make you sweet, enough trials to make youstrong, enough sorrow to keep you human and enough hope to make you happy.The happiest of people don't necessarily have the best of everything; theyjust make the most of everything that comes along their way. The brightest future will always be based on a forgotten past; you can't go forward inlife until you let go of your past failures and heartaches.

Seeking God

2005-02-07T02:41:00.000+10:00

Do I seek God for what He can do for me?
OR
Do I seek God for who He is?

I suspect it is very much the former...

Were All The Stars To Die

2005-02-07T01:39:00.000+10:00

Byron Bay
panoramic nothingness
atop a hill
beside a lighthouse
on Byron Bay

the waves crash
all around
lick the saltiness off your lips
inhale the winds that assault your face

dream
atop a hill
of a sky that blankets
your being

diamonds in the sky
twinkling trickery romancing the mind
burying me under
its endless, divine

my hands appear
as the lighthouse sweeps dutifully
across the studded sky
I grasp at the moment

A jewel of a moment
a mere mortal
atop a hill
on Byron Bay

Lying on car, atop a hill with the lighthouse on Byron Bay is an exhilarating experience day or night. But the night is especially magical. The memory of the experience staring into the vast stellar display haunts me... If you stare into the sky long enough, it will come falling down on you and envelopes you, totally. Excellent optical illusion that gave me pleasurable goosebumps. (Wld greatly appreciate if someone explain why/how this optical effect occurs)

What if all the stars were to disappear? I certainly hope that would not happen in my lifetime. The 'ex' was but one star, albiet one bright shining star. But the winds will blow and the clouds will reveal nestlings of petite lumiere that capture the night.

I will leave you with the words of Auden. I remain an idealist and a romantic

The More Loving One
W. H. Auden

Looking up at the stars, I know quite well
That, for all they care, I can go to hell,
But on earth indifference is the least
We have to dread from man or beast.

How should we like it were stars to burn
With a passion for us we could not return?
If equal affection cannot be,
Let the more loving one be me.

Admirer as I think I am
Of stars that do not give a damn,
I cannot, now I see them, say
I missed one terribly all day.

Were all stars to disappear or die,
I should learn to look at an empty sky
And feel its total dark sublime,
Though this might take me a little time.

Missing

2005-02-01T14:06:00.000+10:00

Perhaps the most difficult adjustment one has to make post break-up is that of missing someone.

What do I 'miss' exactly? I asked myself that question, in an attempt to understand my emotions. I must be crazy to miss that one person who has hurt me so completely with his infidelity. But I do not feel removed from reality; so perhaps a more appropriate question would be 'why' do I miss?

what better way to explore the human condition than to explore the boundaries of our reality -
the dictionary - bible of the human experience

miss ( P ) Pronunciation Key (ms)
v.
missed, miss·ing, miss·es v. tr.
To fail to hit, reach, catch, meet, or otherwise make contact with.
To fail to perceive, understand, or experience: completely missed the point of the film.
To fail to accomplish, achieve, or attain (a goal).
To fail to attend or perform: never missed a day of work.
To leave out; omit.
To let go by; let slip: miss a chance.
To escape or avoid: narrowly missed crashing into the tree.
To discover the absence or loss of: I missed my book after getting off the bus.
To feel the lack or loss of: Do you miss your family?
v. intr.
To fail to hit or otherwise make contact with something: fired the final shot and missed again.
To be unsuccessful; fail.
miss out on
To lose a chance for: missed out on the promotion. (excerpts from Dictionary.com )

One month after the truth was made known to me
one month after the sensory cacophony
one month after feeling spurned
one month after dying
I do not miss him spectrally anymore

There is no longer the brutal pain numbing pain that infects every cell in my body, compounded by the acute jolt of phantom flesh lacerated from the soul. Memories of him no longer render me immobile nor engulf me.

I miss him. I miss him as a person and friend. Do you not sometimes think about people who have crossed your path though fleetingly?
I miss him as a confidante. I have to admit and accept the sense of loss, the 'death' of someone who was of intricate importance to my life.
I miss him as a partner in crime. Naked honesty, mortal impressions.

I am glad that I miss,
for if I did not, I had not loved
and if I had not loved,
I had not lived.