In a multi-dimensional universe, where the choices we make create the space-time reality we occupy (established in respect of the deterministic laws and relationships that govern it), art tunnels a wormhole. Art ties a topographic knot into the continuum, allowing us a mediated portal to a different world. For a few brief, illusory moments in time, art sheds light and creates space for a deeper truth to emerge, one which might ruffle the fabric of space-time in strange and incongruous ways.
Showing posts with label growing up. Show all posts
Showing posts with label growing up. Show all posts
Saturday, September 6, 2025
Friday, June 22, 2018
Little Things With Great Love
"God does not call us all to great things, but calls us to do small things with great love."
Trying to soothe the chronic feeling of inadequacy with the balm of reminding myself that I am enough. I am reminded that it is not about how I want to fashion myself and serve my own ambition, but it is truly that I am His work, and I am fashioned according to his exact purposes.-Mother Teresa
Today, conversation turned to a hawker who worked from 6am to 10pm frying char kway teow and happily drove his Mercedes to work every day. Then, to a multi-millionaire businessman who, in university, made many friends, enjoyed life, and was mostly having his homework done for him by his more intellectual friends. Then, to someone who loved fiddling with watches, and now consults with top watchmaking companies.
Char kway teow
One capitalised on his culinary skills and became a hawker. Even though he may not be widely acknowledged with a Michelin star, the people who know of him appreciate his work, and he is the local's secret.
The other capitalised on his social intelligence, in working through the system to achieve their own ends, and became a businessman. He followed his interest in people, in talking to others, in managing money and making profit. He might not be as famous and high-profile as Bill Gates, but I doubt that was what he wanted.
All three pursued their passion. Did they know what they wanted? Yet each person created space in their lives to keep doing what they were passionate about.
Every moment of our day, every opportunity that comes our way, we are equipped with the sum of our experiences, skills, temperament and character, and we are leveraging this to move forward. Formally or informally, we are carving our own training pathways, and creating our own opportunities.
Too introverted. Too weak. Bad sleeper. Overthinking again. A litany of deprecation that never ends. I realise that everything is relative, and these weaknesses don't just mean that I am not cut out for something. It means I am better cut out for something else. When it comes to what I want, I would be a fool to think I know what that is.
What I do know is what I am passionate about. God. Loved ones. Writing. Dance. Health.
I realise that His grace is sufficient for me. I am reminded that all I can do is do what I can, with as much love as I can muster. Appreciate what I have. Make the most of the opportunities that lie before me.
I look at the love that I have, and the love that I have not, and lay it all before the one who loves me more than I can conceive of love.
"Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.”
-Matt 11:29-30 NIV
Sunday, January 28, 2018
Non-negotiables
Last year, I established some clear values and clarified some defective thought patterns. My perfectionism, in particular. I realise now that perfection isn't about the finished product, or beating yourself up about failure.
Rather, it's a commitment. A commitment to disciplining yourself to do what you value, and embrace and take joy in repetition. Repetition is everything. Practise makes perfect.
To fail means you are challenging yourself. I used to avoid facing up to my failures, because I felt ashamed of not living up to my standards.
But standards are subjective. They are a perception we create for ourselves, to strive towards. As I grow to understand my practise of something, be it dance, writing, or being a a better Christian, I find myself constantly reevaluating and redefining my perception of perfect.
The real perfect, the real product is the process. The process of repetition and practice.
I embrace failure now, because I know that it reflects taking a risk. Failure, not success, enables you to learn and grow.
Over the next couple of years, I shall strive to establish habits. Non-negotiable disciplines and practises that I will retain for the rest of my life.
Some surprising non-negotiables emerged over the past couple of years, and they include needing to dance and write several times a week.
Last year, I experimented. I realised that five basics are essential.
The first four are meditation/prayer, adequate sleep, exercise, and eating.
I need a lot of exercise; in the ballpark of a minimum of ten hours a week. I need an average of seven and a half hours of sleep, and preferably earlier in the night and earlier in the morning, probably waking up around seven every day. To that end, I try to switch off screens after eleven, although sometimes important communication with family or friends trumps that desire.
I endeavour to eat slowly and mindfully, and luxuriate in conversation.
I avoid sugar.
I used to love all things chocolate and ice-cream, but I realised that I am addicted to sugar. The penny dropped when I ate almost an entire packet of cookies one night, and woke up the next day, head full of what I needed to do that day, and could not bring myself out of bed. Then the thought of a chunky cookie dunked in the foam of a cappuccino came to mind, and suddenly I was out of bed like a shot.
Last year, I attempted to quit sugar. I tried cutting it down, but it usually ended in a rebound day. So I tried abstinence, the way alcoholics do.
That worked.
It was quite possibly the best change, but also the hardest change I made. The first few days I was tired and craved it. I drank cider and bubble tea, which didn't count. But over time, I realised that my energy, cognitive clarity, moods and impulse control had drastically improved, and my belly fat had reduced.
The past quarter, I experimented with relaxing the abstinence in view of increased travel, Christmas and the social nature of having dessert and sweet things. But in those two months, I gained weight, developed acne, became more lethargic, moody and impulsive. I know that just as alcoholics must avoid alcohol, I too must avoid sugar.
The final is the most important constant of all, which is being able to let go of everything, and prioritise relationships. Family. The family I have by blood, the family I have in Christ, and the family I will have by marriage. The real center of my life.
Rather, it's a commitment. A commitment to disciplining yourself to do what you value, and embrace and take joy in repetition. Repetition is everything. Practise makes perfect.
To fail means you are challenging yourself. I used to avoid facing up to my failures, because I felt ashamed of not living up to my standards.
But standards are subjective. They are a perception we create for ourselves, to strive towards. As I grow to understand my practise of something, be it dance, writing, or being a a better Christian, I find myself constantly reevaluating and redefining my perception of perfect.
The real perfect, the real product is the process. The process of repetition and practice.
I embrace failure now, because I know that it reflects taking a risk. Failure, not success, enables you to learn and grow.
Over the next couple of years, I shall strive to establish habits. Non-negotiable disciplines and practises that I will retain for the rest of my life.
Some surprising non-negotiables emerged over the past couple of years, and they include needing to dance and write several times a week.
Last year, I experimented. I realised that five basics are essential.
The first four are meditation/prayer, adequate sleep, exercise, and eating.
I need a lot of exercise; in the ballpark of a minimum of ten hours a week. I need an average of seven and a half hours of sleep, and preferably earlier in the night and earlier in the morning, probably waking up around seven every day. To that end, I try to switch off screens after eleven, although sometimes important communication with family or friends trumps that desire.
I endeavour to eat slowly and mindfully, and luxuriate in conversation.
I avoid sugar.
I used to love all things chocolate and ice-cream, but I realised that I am addicted to sugar. The penny dropped when I ate almost an entire packet of cookies one night, and woke up the next day, head full of what I needed to do that day, and could not bring myself out of bed. Then the thought of a chunky cookie dunked in the foam of a cappuccino came to mind, and suddenly I was out of bed like a shot.
Last year, I attempted to quit sugar. I tried cutting it down, but it usually ended in a rebound day. So I tried abstinence, the way alcoholics do.
That worked.
It was quite possibly the best change, but also the hardest change I made. The first few days I was tired and craved it. I drank cider and bubble tea, which didn't count. But over time, I realised that my energy, cognitive clarity, moods and impulse control had drastically improved, and my belly fat had reduced.
The past quarter, I experimented with relaxing the abstinence in view of increased travel, Christmas and the social nature of having dessert and sweet things. But in those two months, I gained weight, developed acne, became more lethargic, moody and impulsive. I know that just as alcoholics must avoid alcohol, I too must avoid sugar.
The final is the most important constant of all, which is being able to let go of everything, and prioritise relationships. Family. The family I have by blood, the family I have in Christ, and the family I will have by marriage. The real center of my life.
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