Close Your Eyes

It is a rare occasion that I'm at a loss for words. But yet, we all know, somehow, sometimes, the situation is so overwhelming, all the words in all the books you've ever read will not come to mind.

Part of me wants so badly to transcribe what was written and have it lodged here. But an even bigger part of me just wants to savour it quietly as the rain falls outside.

Grand gestures used to be the yardstick, the measure. But as one grows older, one realises that it is all the lil things that should be the measure.

And so as the clock winds down to T-3, this is all I can say:

Close your eyes and see my blue skies breaking
through these dark clouds
You are the light
In my mind I see your red (cap) and my arms are reaching
through the night
I'll never give up the fight
I'll go the distance

Thanks babe! Love ya!

Savour

I went and busted my elbow, trying to protect 4 packets of Walker's crisps from being crushed by this gigantic weight I'm currently carrying. And the whole time as I sat in the emergency room, waiting to know if it was severely busted or merely causing me intense and acute pain for the day, the only thought that ran through my head was - I cannot be with a useless right hand for the days ahead!

In my last post, I wrote about how next Friday would be just another day. But as I opened my enveloped left by the my predecessor, I read the lines and realised that Yes it may just be another day, but it is still a milestone day.

Savour - to relish or enjoy.

Perhaps a day may be too long to savour. Perhaps an hour or two would be decently and gracefully sufficient.

I know it is unChristian-like to say that maybe I'd buy myself a new suit to wear. But heck, that is what I will do. If not for anything else, it is just to tell myself, my days of having to mend and re-mend a torn seam, is just about over.

Call me vain. Call me materialistic. Call me anything you want just because a new suit would make my day. I really don't care and you wouldn't either. When you know that every piece of clothing in my closet right now, has either been there 1) for the last decade or 2) a hand-me-down from my bff.

I will savour this day and I will savour it my way. In my soon-to-be new black pin-striped suit :=)

Just Another Race

The checkered flag is raised and finishing line is just up ahead.

It has been a long and arduous journey. 2 years, 2 months and 20-something days. Lots of ups. Lots of downs. Lots of occasions and opportunities to throw my hands up in the air and scream "I quit!" 

I'm glad I stuck to it. As I told the young ladies who came yesterday to inquire - "Figure if this is really what you wanna do. Cos it's not the time and money spent that will be wasted. But the blow to yourself that you have failed that would be the biggest loss if you turn away."

But here's the thing that I also remembered a few seconds later - another phrase that I always tell the students - "This is just the beginning."

I'm nervy. But I'm also trying to realign my expectations. 1st October is going to come and I will wake up and find that it is just another day. Nothing's changed very much outwardly. And that I'm gonna have to be ready for.

It's just the end and only the beginning.

The Only Difference

in·dif·fer·ent

• marked by impartiality
• That does not matter one way or the other

Someone remarked that the only difference between us was our indifferences. Some things that I choose to take a stand over, he doesn't. Some things that he chooses to take a stand over, I have no particular opinion.

In many ways, we are as different as night and day. Yet in many ways, we could be two peas in the same pod. If I focussed on our differences, it would drive me crazy. If I focussed on our similarities, it would drive him crazy.

But I guess my question then is this: do I even need to focus on one or the other?

Perhaps I should just appreciate the fact that my differences and indifference are taken as they are. And I would do well to do more of the same.

Shame on Me

Someone told me that he is on a mission to discover himself. I could have said "well done you," or "how can I help?" or even just give a simple nod of head that says "I hear ya!" But I did none of the above. 

Instead, I became needlessly mean and vicious. Venomous to an extent even. And it’s uncalled for. Totally and thoroughly.

And while I may take some pride in knowing that I can realise all this because I know myself. It also comes with some amount of disappointment because the pattern of behaviour is slowly coming to light.

I am pushing the self-destruct button. Again.

I can say ‘old habits die hard’ but truly – this is not a habit to inculcate or even hold remotely close. And I’m disappointed with myself.

I’ll go sit in a corner and repent for a mo. Wake me up when September ends….

Passerà

My best friend Mandy is going off to Europe next week for a holiday. Funnily enough, I have been covering my tracks since her itinerary was drawn up, making sure no opportunities for drama can occur. Yes - recall the last time she went on holiday in February of last year, innocently thinking that all will be fine and well while she's away. Only to come home to a right mess of a best pal.

And that's how unhappiness is: it doesn't really come without a warning. It brews but you ignore. It screams but you shut it down. Until it comes right at you, and catches you in what you think is a state of unawares. But hell, you can't really blame it when you've been living in a state of denial.

It used to be easy to know how to tell when someone you're close to is unhappy. They'll cry, they'll sulk. Some may even skunk around a little bit. But as we grow older, we shut these reactions down. Perhaps it's cos we've sang the song "Pack all your troubles in your old knit bag and smile, smile, smile" too many times it manifests itself as actions.

Which is why one of the phrases I am always telling my best mates is this : No matter what you do, I'm the one you call when you need someone to come get you off this end of the bar. Cos at the end of the day, when you're swallowed up whole by that big bad emotion, there really isn't any place for the 3Rs - Recrimination, Reprimand and Rebuke.

And whether you're the cause of it, a party to it or an innocent collateral damage - there's really nothing much else to do except breathe. 

Passerà - it will pass.

Tradition and Change

It has been a tradition of mine, to take time out and reflect just before I supposedly become a year wiser. And in my reflection, it has always been asking my parents if I have made them proud.

Perhaps I have always carried this chip on my shoulder. And in the last couple of years, I have deluded myself into thinking the chip away. Alas, delusions are what they are - a mirage that you will yourself to have fixated in your head. All it takes is a strong gusty wind to come and clear the fog away. And what you see, is not what you want to see. What you feel is not what you wished you felt.

I am quite done asking that question this year. Year in, year out - the answer remains the same. Year in, year out - I have chosen not to acknowledge that it is the WRONG question to be asking.

For I know now, pride has no place in this unbalanced equation. How can there be pride when there is hardly any existence?! Or acceptance?!

So this year, tradition changes. I will cease to ask. I will cease to work towards achieving the answer that I had hoped for. I will cease to ask the question.

I will cease.

Perhaps when I cease, it will hurt less, or not at all, the crystal clear fact that you allow me to be insulted and leave me standing out in the rain, to bear the insult by myself. Telling me in not so many words that I am not worth defending. That the fact that it is your blood that runs through my veins, doesn't matter. 

Perhaps when I cease, I will be able to tolerate my rightful place in the history of our culture. That I am worthless, a negative number in your books - regardless of what else the rest of the world thinks of me and what I can do.

Yes, I shall cease.