Ideals versus People

Despite what has been said about no man being an island, we aren't quite the Pangaea that one might think. Rather we seem to be connected by the currents of activity which happen to thrust us together - a rapid version of continental drift that pulls us apart, and brings us in close apposition. We never quite touch, although at times it seems we come close to it. Perhaps it is our fallen nature that prevents of from ever fully sharing in each others' world.

In interacting with others, it pays to realise that ideals are weak things, and that ideas are only as strong as their impetus to realise, or actualise them. People build up so many ideas about what they want in relationships, about what they are looking for, that they are invariably disappointed. There is nothing wrong with developing these ideas of the sake of conversation, but the double-edge to ideas is that they very often stick around. They influence day-to-day decision-making subtly and pervasively such that the expectations you have of someone, the way you relate to them, and the impression you form, are all coloured by your preconceived notions.

When it comes to ideals, is it not more exciting to hold off thinking about them until you find yourself actually in a relationship with someone? Then, you can build on each others' perspectives and craft ideals and worldviews together, rather than endlessly turning these over and over in your mind before you start, building them up as barricades and hindrances that fortify a lonely island. Some think otherwise. Some think that by doing so, by preempting future troubles and concerns, and by firmly establishing their conceptions, they can avoid later strife or error. The problem is that there is a disjunct between theory and real life, and that ideas can never comprehensively address people and the intricacy that is life.

Colleague, boss, housemate, coursemate, brother or sister, prayer buddy, brother- or sister-in-Christ, bible study member, non-Christian friend, mother, father. Each seems to have its own set of predefined relational contexts and social norms. Whatever happened to just loving someone? Christians in particular seem to spend their time forging ideals and trying to get people in church to conform in the name of obedience, yet I fear an indviduals' path tends to take a narrative ethic rather than an absolute one. I have found that every person's moral dilemma is different, and there is no exact similarity between one person's choice and another's - that one action might be made in virtue according to one person's decision, but the same action might be made in vice in someone else's.

Yet there are so many meaningless church sessions trying to standardise the way we think about an idea, and attempting a reductionist's approach to moral decision-making. Ideas about sex, marriage, and gender roles, particularly, come to the forefront in the church where I am at. And I don't know how comfortable I am in the pews listening to what is said sometimes, as I see model become uniform reality, and a failure to recognise sinfulness within the paradigm, while readily recognising the sinfulness outside of it. Oh, we are such a sinful, fallen world. But when we do this, this is godly. But how very untrue this is! Within that very system of action it is possible to see where sinfulness can seep in, in the form of pride, selfishness, and all a manner of insidious ways, and this makes us no less prone to sin than the next person.

The strange thing is that I realise there is a role for this type of thinking in certain contexts. There are some things about morality, and about God, which are irrevocable. It is good to know what these are, and to be clear in them, and to be reminded of them, and to let these govern life decisions. Broad strokes paint a picture that I agree with, but the devil is in the details, and perhaps it is in these that I find real life prevails over human hermeneutic preaching.

Over the past year or so, I'm coming to appreciate more and more the simple reality that relationships in true reality, in God's kingdom, are best thought of in the context of being brothers- and sisters-in-Christ, and being accordingly loving. My experiences have led me to see that supporting someone with love means intimacy and empathy. It means rooting for them when they are struggling in the absence of judgement. This holds true whether you are relating as a colleague, boss, housemate, coursemate, brother or sister, or significant other. We can support each other by showing our care in the ways that we can, and realise we can never be perfect for someone, even so. Even more importantly, loving someone means forgiving them, or making the choice to forgive them preemptively. How much of blame and unforgiveness in a  relationship comes from someone not being able to address our own personal flaws, our own inadequacies, rather than their intentionality to hurt you.

Perhaps loving someone is not about doing what is right, doing what one ought to, because the underlying emotional truth is that in thinking in this way, in doing so, you are only stroking your own egotism and self-righteousness. Instead, what is right is defined by the process of loving others.

Music: the (first) Festival

So I attended my first ever proper music festival last weekend. St Jerome's Laneway Festival 2013 was held at Gardens by the Bay, from noon to midnight of 26 January. I arrived at four, having missed Kings of Convenience, which was on at noon. As much as I hate to have missed them, I'm glad I missed the noonday sun. Singapore in an open-air venue with no shade in the afternoon, is burning hot and twice as sweaty as any other place on earth. On the one hand, it's good because people around you are unlikely to press as close to you at the mosh pit. On the other, intermittent visions of air-conditioning and shade do interrupt your appreciation of the music.

I guess we all had the Band We Came For. Mine was Of Monsters and Men. The set was a little predictable after watching other recordings of live performances by them, so I wasn't too surprised when they asked the girls to sing Hold your horses now/Through the woods we ran and the guys to sing Sleep until the sun goes down/Deep into the mountain sound in Mountain Sound. But that didn't spoil my enjoyment of the amazing singing and music, particularly seeing Nanna so comfortable with an audience, as well as on-stage. Little Talks was a particular hit, with everyone singing along to the lyrics. The music just went on and on, and you could feel the whole venue didn't want that moment to end. The bimbo in me also appreciated the excellent colour coordination of the outfits worn by all of the band.

Details like that can be enhancers, or detractors, from performance. Take Kimbra's blue hair. It wasn't on her head though, but on her sleeves. My friends and I couldn't stop staring at them. But blue hair aside, she has an magnetic voice that just pulled me towards the stage. Although I don't personally love her sound, what she could do with her voice was incredible, and she was unafraid to experiment with unconventional vocal techniques that melded, or perhaps moulded, her eclectic sound. I loved how she could abandon herself to the moment, dancing and singing like no one was watching. These two aspects of her performance distinguished her 'live' from her music videos, and made her worth watching.



In contrast, Alt J was a bit flat live. They were not flat as in out of tune, like Real Estate were (particularly on their new songs). In fact, they played well. It was just that having watched their music videos, I couldn't help but feel that much of what I appreciated about them stemmed from their creativity in terms of the video's narrative conceptualisation. By contrast, in live performance, though they dished out consistent musical quality, that element of experiential creativity was somehow lacking live.

New finds that evening included Bat for Lashes and Tame Impala.  Natasha of Bat for Lashes had a voice and style was evocative of a certain kind of music during the 1980s - a Kate Bush for the contemporary generation. It was an unexpected discovery, but not as unexpected for me as Tame Imapala. I didn't expect myself to like psychedelic rock. I ended up loving it, particularly live. They scored the holographic sound of guitar strumming, pedaling and feedback brilliantly, and the drummer was backbone of the team, holding the band together through rhythmically challenging tempo changes and even technical gaffs.



Gotye was the finale for the night, and lived up to the anticipation of the final set with stunning video backdrops that mirrored his music video concepts quite closely. It was probably a bit of a challenge for the poor bloke as the audience was pretty tired and more than half the people at the mosh pit left once he sang Somebody that I Used To Know. I particularly liked Thanks for Your Time for its sociopolitical satire. Very Gorillaz.



Before the concert, I had the misguided, vain hope that Gardens By The Bay would use some of the interesting garden spaces that they had, like the Flower Dome or Cloud Forest or Supertree Grove (yes, those are their actual names). Instead, there were two stages, and both were set up side-by-side, at a single location - The Meadow, which was essentially just a valley of grass. In terms of raw acoustical space, I think it was an appropriate venue as sound could travel reasonably well through the space, while being isolated from noise by the mounds (they don't qualify as hills) that surrounded The Meadow. Having the two stages side-by-side, seemed to fulfill no other purpose than being logistically sound: it was good for us lazy members of the audience so we wouldn't have to move, and also saved on time, since setting up between acts could be done while a performance was going on on the other stage. From a performance experience perspective, the stages seemed virtually identical, and I could see no real reason for the one stage to be used over the other, given the lack of thematic distinction. There was a lot of potential in terms of making use of the spaces available at Gardens by the Bay, in terms of enhancing the musician's performances and creating a unique experience for the audience. There are fans who follow bands around the world to watch them perform. Why would a dedicated fan come to Singapore, to Gardens by the Bay, to watch the musician? What would make them remember the experience?

The verdict: generally predictable, but consistent and enjoyable performances by musical artists, in what should have been an exciting venue for a music concert. 

You like me, you like me not

Raphaël Poulain doesn't like peeing next to somebody else. He doesn't like noticing people laughing at his sandals, coming out of the water with his swimming suit sticking to his body. Raphaël Poulain likes to tear big pieces of wallpaper off the walls, to line up his shoes and polish them with great care, to empty his toolbox, clean it thoroughly, and, finally, put everything away carefully.

Amélie's mother, Amandine Fouet, was a Primary School teacher from Gueugnon, she had always been unstable and nervy. She doesn't like to have her fingers all wrinkled by hot water. She doesn't like it when somebody she doesn't like touches her, to have the marks of the sheets on her cheek in the morning. She likes the outfits of the ice-skaters on TV, to shine the flooring, to empty her handbag, clean it thoroughly, and, finally, put everything away carefully.

In the opening scenes of Amelie, the characters are introduced by their likes and dislikes. In Miss Universe, contestants introduce themselves by saying what they like. What is it about our preferences that defines who we are, sometimes with even more precision than a string of adjectives might?

It is almost as if the book, or song, were in a strange way, an extension of who we are, defining us. We identify with something when it says what we want to convey, when we ourselves are unable to adequately convey our sentiments - a cathartic release for our half-formed sentences, our inexpressible sentiments. Or they might be the things we wish we could aspire to, the things we think are true. They materialise a reality, albeit a transient one, which we can identify with. Particularly when it comes to exchanging taste in books, or music, or movies, we are connected by our preferences. When we share in an experience like that, these works of art augment our connections to each other, and our understanding of ourselves. When we share in them, or understand them, we are in momentary accord with what is real, what is true - we share in something concrete, and relatively less relativistic than the relativistic world we purportedly experience.

Part of me wonders, is this a taste of what it was like before Babel? Before our world was fragmented by an inability to understand fully what the other person was saying.

Song of solitude

(A crooner)

Those that I have loved
have never loved me back -
If you love me, let me go,
they say. In old romantic movies
people always come back 
in the end. Out in real life
no one ever comes back.

Silence never leaves me
Solitude's breath is ever on my neck
Smiles and laughter deceive me
into thinking there is nothing that I lack.

Thousand Islands

So I sit in swells of solitude
as the current says goodbye.
each of us marooned 
in our own lot 
in a Thousand Islands -
in constructs of wood,
encased in stone,
or seated bopping up and down
on a dinghy, one of many
festooning the shore.

Those that I have loved
have never loved me back
in quite the same way.
Better to have lost in love
than never to have loved at all
they say, but they don't say
both leave you, leave you lonely.

Silence never leaves me
Solitude's breath is ever on my neck
Smiles and laughter deceive me not -
for the something that I lack.

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.  

Dreamers and do-ers.

Lately, I've realised that who we are is not defined by 'he who has the most toys', whether toys means riches, accolades, achievements, romantic or social conquests or even, in the Christian context, whether you are serving or leading in multiple ministries.  Rather, we are defined by two things: how we choose our battles, and what we believe in (and if that be Christianity, so be it).  When life happens, it is not the toys that we have that equip us to deal with the situation, but the beliefs that we have, that then drive our actions.  How we respond when a loved one dies, or when we go bankrupt, will depend a lot on our outlook and beliefs. Similarly, what we believe in determines the battles we pick.  All in all, you might say that our reality is shaped by our beliefs.

Pragmatism for me has always been both a foreign, and often a slightly unsavoury concept, particularly as it plays out in a social context.  Relationships of convenience - whether mail-order brides, green card marriages, friendships between colleagues, truces between competitors - have a particular sense of hollowness for me.  At some points in my past I daresay I would rather shun my needs than have them met by hollow relationships.

Yet needs must be met, and pragmatism is a survival instinct, as ingrained as someone being extra-nice when they want something from you.  I still find that when I want something, I operate in exactly that way.  I do make an extra effort to be nice to my superiors, or when I need a favour, or even as viscerally as when I am physically attracted to someone.  In reverse, when someone asks for my help and is sweet about it, I do feel sincerely flattered. I have found myself forced to accept that this exchange needs to happen, and that it is the way our social fabric is constructed.

'At this time of your life, people are transitory.  You aren't going to stay friends for ever.  After this, you may never see them again.'

'People are people.  Everyone is good for something.  You just have to take them for what they are and learn how to work with them.'

The cold harshness of those words strikes me.  As much as it alarms me that people think like that, I've come to realise that these are not uncommon ways of thinking about relationships.  Many people are going to think pragmatically, seeing relationships as functional rather than personal, and in do are going to make it their reality.  As much as I dislike being thought of in that utilitarian way, I know that if I reject this perspective, I essentially reject their relationship.  So, at least with that person, I must accept that that is how they feel about the relationship.  It is not untrue that much fun, laughter, camaraderie and joy has been forged out of situations of necessity.  I also recognise that the belief is powerful in its ability to minimise the pain of the believer when it comes to dealing with rejection, abandonment or conflict.

I have aimed to build my relationships on empathy of another's situation, respect of their admirable traits and differences, love and sincerity, rather than out of necessity, if at all possible.  I believe that people are like me, and that I am like people.  There is depth to people.  There is that beautiful transformative moment when you see someone in their element, when you watch how someone has grown over time or when someone allows themselves the luxury of trust, of being vulnerable.  These moments are only granted to you when your eyes are open to them.  It is true that you can recognise that someone has matured without being close to them, or without believing in them, and it is true that photographs can capture beautiful moments.  But it is not the same as that moment in a relationship when you recognise it for the first time, after you have invested your belief, your empathy, your love in that person.  And although you can reduce empathy, respect or love to things that people need, the reason they are given is not because the other person needs them, but rather they are given the way a breath is released at the sight of a beautiful view.  Conversely, the edge to this perspective is that when a relationship turns sour, the bitter truth is that you will be the one self-destructing.

Our reality is shaped by our beliefs.  Although other people's beliefs and actions may influence our world, it is our personal belief that shapes our actions.  If I accept this as a truth for me, if I don't fight for the belief that friendships and relationships can be more than just the products of necessity, that aspiration will die with me.  And I don't want that.  So I shall fight for what I believe in.  

Worship the sacred raisin cakes

Some parts of the bible just tickle me.

The LORD said to me, "Go, show your love to your wife again, though she is loved by another and is an adulteress. love her as the LORD loves the Israelites, though they turn to other gods and love the sacred raisin cakes."  (Hosea 3:1)

"Ooohhh. The claw sacred raisin cakes"

And this, just after the glorious words of Hosea 2:16-23:

“And in that day, declares the LORD, you will call me ‘My Husband,’ and no longer will you call me ‘My Baal.’ For I will remove the names of the Baals from her mouth, and they shall be remembered by name no more. And I will make for them a covenant on that day with the beasts of the field, the birds of the heavens, and the creeping things of the ground. And I will abolish the bow, the sword, and war from the land, and I will make you lie down in safety. And I will betroth you to me forever. I will betroth you to me in righteousness and in justice, in steadfast love and in mercy. I will betroth you to me in faithfulness. And you shall know the Lord.

“And in that day I will answer, declares the LORD,
I will answer the heavens,
and they shall answer the earth,
and the earth shall answer the grain, the wine, and the oil,
and they shall answer Jezreel,
and I will sow her for myself in the land.
And I will have mercy on No Mercy,
and I will say to Not My People, ‘You are my people’;
and he shall say, ‘You are my God.’”

冬天不懂事

我们一个像夏天一个像秋天
却总能把冬天变成了春天。
我离不开darling更离不开你...
遇见一个人然后生命全改变
原来不是恋爱才有的情节
我不会相信
朋友比情人还死心塌地

－ 范玮琪《一个像夏天一个像秋天》

我生命中的好友

在哪里能找到呢？
等待离不开的春天，
难道是那么难得的依赖？

---

我最近读过,当一个有名的作家写文章的时候，会先用第二语言来写，才把文章翻译回母语。他认为当我们熟悉习惯用某一种语言，会渐渐地衍化思想的“近路”表达我们的意思。 当我们用另一个语言来沟通，需要从另外的方式思想，经常会更直接更清楚。

我自己发现我经常会用那老旧的几句话。用另一个语言，用脑的另一部分，也许能够找到一个新的表达方式。对我来想，果然有道理！ 但我现在试一试，得到的直不过是失望。写着这几句话超过半个小时还是写不完。我对于华语一点掌握都没了 － 对于句子沟通，我一点都不清楚。虽然这样做对那作家是有效的好方式，但对我这种华语差的人，好像没什么用处。

Translated, I was describing how I had recently read about an author who used his second language to write before translating it back to his first language, the original language he intended to write in.  He did it to avoid using the same few habitual phrases, to avoid taking the mental shortcuts of expression that develop over time.  He found it to be very effective in making his prose clearer and more concise.

When I tried this for myself, I was frustrated because of my poor grasp of my supposed mother tongue. I found that I lacked the range of vocabulary I have become accustomed to in English, and I was spent what seemed like eons casting about my brain for the right words.  Furthermore, I was unsure of the grammatical syntax used in Chinese.

I concluded that what works for one person does not work for another.  That was about as far as I got.

 Despite the frustrations I experienced, I do feel there is a certain economy of language that I am more cognizant of in shifting between the languages.  Or could it just be some kind of experiential bias or placebo effect?

What force majeure is sheathed

This year I've been busying myself a great deal.  But lately, I've been realising that the flurry of activity hasn't really equated to actual productivity.  I've been having the vague and dawning (or is it sinking?) realisation I've been going about things the wrong way, especially since I've been starting to let it obscure my vision of  the more important - making time to show consideration, or care for others.  Over this weekend, I put a pause on my life and went for my church's retreat, themed Buying Time.

There were a number of elective workshops at this camp.  Paradoxically, I decided to go for an elective talk on leisure.  I chose it for the most excellent reasons - it was being held in the most nearby venue, and it was the one most of my bible study group mates were going for.  But sometimes sloth and peer pressure bear unexpected fruit.

The speaker said something that really struck a chord.  He said that you could be doing exactly the same thing, but it could be sinful in one context, and not in another.  It depends on your intentions behind the deed.  As he aptly (because of course, anyone who cites one of my favourite authors is nothing else but apt) cited:

There is no neutral ground in the universe; every square inch, every split second, is claimed by God and counter-claimed by Satan.

from Christian Reflections by CS Lewis (1967)  

That got me questioning my own motivations concerning my anxiety over work.  There was guilt because I'd disregarded my studies all last year.  I'd been having doubts about whether medicine was what I really wanted to do, whether it was really right for me, only to realise that I was just being silly.  So more guilt because I'd wasted the year.  Then, there was inferiority for similar reasons.  Then, the fact I'd been delayed in my course left me with still more insecurity.

So lets see...there's guilt, guilt, and oh yeah, more guilt.  That was when I realised that I had been more motivated by this than by the joy there is to be taken in learning.  I had been holding onto these insecurities so tightly, they were getting in the way of my attempts to compensate for them, and getting in the way of who I was as a person - my identity in Christ.  That is to say, following Christ in a gospel-centered lifestyle.  Heeding what is said about love, and not living for my own selfish ambition.

Look carefully then how you walk, not as unwise but as wise, making the best use of the time, because the days are evil.  Therefore, do not be foolish, but understand what the will of the Lord is.

- Eph 5:15-17 (ESV)

---

It's strange how time unfolds, sometimes going backwards, remembering the past, sometimes preempting the future - even as I say that, I realise that it sometimes comes to exactly the same thing.

What force majuere is sheathed
as I sit on the aged wood, and as
a majesty of blue green spills outwards
from beneath.

Jettisoned from reality
I become ensconced
by swathes of Dupioni silk -
its gently crinkling breaths
appear a mildly ruffled placidity.

How to hold a steth

Hold the pipe between the thumb, and the chest piece between the forefinger and ring finger.

According to Stanford's PA training website, the stethoscope makes a nice hearing aid with hearing impaired patients. Put the eartips in the patient’s ears, and talk into the chestpiece.