the art of letting go

being a grown up
the super ego prevails
heartbreak of the id

Whatever will be will be

Do you want to be a dancer
It means travel
It means loneliness
It means poverty
It means toil
It means sweet passion for perfection
for expression
for a voice that can be felt more powerfully than words
It means doubt
It means conviction
It means love
You should only be a dancer
if you cannot be anything but.

Do you want to be a doctor
It means hard work
It means fighting
against systems that don't really work
for people who don't always help themselves
losing battles
but giving hope
It means stability
It means reliability
It means respect
It means empathy
It means sorrow
It means love
You should only be a doctor
if you cannot be anything but.

I can say now that I've travelled the world
I've lived a double life
I cannot be anything but.

I will be what I will be
but only as much as it matters
for what matters most.

You can only love

for you cannot do anything but

to find what matters most

is not what you love

but whom.

A mac between two windows

Restored when you revisit -
refreshed the pane stares back at you.

Through the looking glass
what once felt a bittersweet torture -
the years apart -
has become
a lopsided work of art.

Little Things With Great Love

"God does not call us all to great things, but calls us to do small things with great love." 

-Mother Teresa

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.

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

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.

Little things make the biggest difference

Whenever I come back to Singapore, I feel a great sense of refreshment and clarity in who I am, and who I would like to be, as a result of my place in the context of the friends I have.  Birds of a feather, cut from the same cloth, and so on.  Although of the same cloth, in myself I lose sight of the garment I should make of myself from the material that it is.  That is to say, if I end up trying to fashion something else of myself, the material would end up rather the worse for wear, and poorly utilised for such a function.

I met up with a friend for a good meal today, and she was saying how she likes to make everyone happy and she doesn't really mind for herself personally.  She felt blessed with many opportunities and she was contented.  Many of my friends are like that.  These people may not waste so many words, others are 'won without words' by their conduct, showing the purity and reverence of their lives (1 Pet 3:1-2).  What she says in silence, by her attitude, demeanour and consideration speak volumes and are far more influential, in a deeper way in making people want to be peace-loving and kinder to one another.

Perhaps this is what at Christians, in brotherly love, should value most - the care they can give to others.  What it really means to have brotherly love.  The other things that seems so important - our appearance (even kindness, if it is merely to appear to be caring, or to show care - there really is a discernable difference), career, ambitions, even the wealth of art, culture and science that seems to be the pride of mankind - these are just preoccupations of the world.  Literally, they are what we do before (pre-) we are really occupied for others.  For what do they matter?  Part of the reason why these things are important, at least in the context of the constructs (such as art or science), are because they are a contribution towards enriching society.  But they are the icing on the cake, and without the cake itself, what use is icing?  If our lives lack even the basic substance of society, attempting to enrich it by blazing contributions in work or riches are just human vanities (Ecc 1:1) that fatten us rather than fill us.

There is a distinction to be drawn between the kind pride one takes - that 'I have done this work well' and 'this is a good piece of work'.  There is a place for preoccupation, a place for good work, but that is as a function for and of society, and the joy that comes of it is not the fulfillment of any personal ambition, but the work in itself.

In the grand scheme of things - perhaps there is none.  Perhaps the biggest things are really the smallest things that make a difference in people's lives - taking the time to listen and make time for people, to help out where we can.