Unloading Barbsie

Last Sunday, the priest at confession asked me to say something good about myself. He said I was telling him all the things I failed at. He wanted me to say something I succeeded at. Needless to say, I couldn’t.

Cos I was so hung-up over the fact that I cannot give my folks, my kids, my family the sort of life that they deserve.

Cos I was so hung-up over the fact that I have taken so many wrong turns in my 33 years of living, that it has almost ruined my life ahead.

Cos I was so hung-up over the fact that if I am not in the position of giving, I am merely a charity-basket-case.

At the end of the day, it’s always a lot easier to blame someone or something else. Cos it makes me less hung-up about my hang-ups.

It’s HIS fault that I’m here.
I have done all I can to show, the ball is now on HIS side of the court.
It just GOD’s way of playing with me.
I’m still stuck here cos THE boss can’t see just how good I am.

I was at the mamak last night with two brothers. Both of whom are in their 40s and in very different stations of life. We talked about life, about being tired and the lack of weed supply in the world. Food crisis indeed! It was meant to be a bitch-slapping session and bitch-slapped me they did when the brother from Penang asked me this: Why are you in this situation and this game of "I won’t say it, if you don't" with him?

As with tennis, when someone gives you a backhand, you volley it right back and mine was turning around and told him it was HIS entire fault. That if he hadn't told me 6 months ago that "sometimes, you've gotta ride the train", I would have gotten off the "train" then and would be fine today.

I am here, sitting in the train, watching the scenery change, the colours of the trees change, and I’m going “Wow – that’s gorgeous! I wanna be there!” but when the train pulls into the station, I sit and wait while the door opens, standing up only when the bell offs goes, signaling the doors are closing. Just so I get to the door as it closes. Just so I can say “Darn it, I was a second too late.”

And that leaves me wondering IF I am so safe in my “blame it on XYZ” blanket that I wanna just make like Linus and stay there? Cos in truth, there is nothing new that no one has told me in recent years or months, that I didn’t already know or realize: Yes, I am scared. Yes, I live in the world of “What-ifs”. Yes, I don’t think that good things CAN happen to me.

I am re-reading Tuesdays with Morrie yet again. It is the second time I am picking it up. And it was a conscious decision when I drew the book off the shelf. I wanted to be reminded that life is short, and that a meaningful life is not about a bigger car, a bigger house or more money in the bank. It’s about giving, and not just to everyone else but also to myself.

This morning, I’m all smiles cos I made the day of a former colleague by asking if he could make the birthday cake for my dad’s 60th this weekend. His comment of “Jared Cjl so excited now! Gateau le Blanc going to born this Sunday! Thanks Barb for giving me such an opportunity!” is giving me so much pleasure, I could cry. But more importantly, I realize that in giving Jared this opportunity, I am taking pleasure for myself of having done something out of the ordinary for someone else.

As it was said by my SS brother:

Sometimes you have to take some happiness for yourself.
It’s alright to say ~
“It’s now my turn to give something to myself”.

I think I shall start recognizing that sometimes, in giving, I am also receiving. And I should not deny anyone and ESPECIALLY myself that opportunity.

It doesn’t necessarily mean that I am a charity basket case. And I can find better things to do with the shoulder space than carry a chip around on it.

I am not naturally dark, twisted and loaded. It's time I stop trying so hard to be.