Forgotten and Blurred

Yesterday marked the final 2 months of this long and winding road that I have been on. I must admit - off-late, it had become to feel more like a walk with a stubborn mule, than a stroll towards the end of this rainbow.

I have ceased looking forward to 1st October with any joy or excitement. I could not muster the buzz than Ben felt and still feels. It had come to a point of thinking that it was a bargain that I had struck with the Devil (though I think that if that was the case, it wouldn't be this difficult a journey!)

As I sit here and force myself to acknowledge the ugly truth before I go to work, I am trying to remember words I wrote 2 years ago, when it was just pain and frustration. I am forcing myself to reconcile to the fact(s) that I had definitely lost sight of what is good and real.

I had let arrogance, greed and envy (AGE) overcome me and those are not the list of things that I want to be counting as my traits. As a person. As a Christian. As one who follows the path that was written even before I was born.

I had let the feeling of smallness of parking my lil WiNK mobile alongside the Beamers, the Mercs and the SUVs, get to me. I had let the shame of a rented 940 sq ft in the sky hung so heavy on my shoulders it has made me stoop so low I am almost face-to-face with the dirt of the earth. I had let the gluttony of lunching at the best places in my building fill me to the limit, there was no more space left for clarity and humility.

"I have lived out of suitcases and airports, I have power-lunched with head honchos, I have railed and banged my fair share of conference tables and I have signed enough documents. None of them brought me the sense of fulfillment I sought. I am currently doing the ONE thing that I am passionate about. As a wise bread man once said – there is nothing to be envious about when it comes to tones of emails to reply, phone calls to return or mountains of paperwork to tackle. It’s not the amount of time I spend in the office, or the amount of walking I do. Yet each minute I spend at it, might change someone’s future just that little bit. And no amount of frequent flyer miles can bring about that."

I used to pride myself of my ability to walk the mile in someone else's shoes. But in the midst of everything, I had allowed AGE to think that it was my own two hands that brought about these results. I now stand at this journey marker, humble and contrite, and say that I am wrong to have thought so. And I apologise.

I may have had a long arduous climb towards getting here, but the truth is this: I did not do it by myself. All these that has happened before me, and all that will happen from here on out - it is given to me indeed on a silver platter. And again, I apologise.

Two months. Much to do. Much to clear. Much to create. 

But more importantly, much to keep close at heart, mind and soul.

vi·o·late

One of the definitions of the word violate is 'failing to respect someone's peace, privacy or rights' and that about sums up my entire sentiment over the Wink Mobile getting broken ito yesterday evening. 

In my head, I had taken every precaution - I drive a non-descript locally made vehicle, there's no flashy sound system on display, nor shiny sport rims on the tires. It was parked at allocated parking spots by the side of a major road in the neighbourhood, and to top it all off - there was a security guard no more than 50 metres away. I would be running around the tracks, with almost a hundred other folks in the early evening, with the car in plain sight.

Whilst everyone says that it was a good thing that only cash and my mobile (and my thumbdrive) was taken - to be read as my identity card, drivers' license and other cards were not taken, I cannot see it as the silver lining on this dark cloud.

Perhaps I have been brooding (and whining) over my perceived 'violation of space' with a houseguest on board the week past. Perhaps my claims have been baseless and groundless, I needed to be taught a real lesson as to what 'invasion of property' really meant.

I almost ran to my car this evening after work in a near deserted carpark - something I have never done in the 2 years of working and parking there. And I cannot bear to look at the seat next to mine cos the thought that a total stranger may have rested his bum on it without me even knowing his face, gives me goosebumps.

I have never felt this kind of fear before. And even though Ben says we've gotta evaluate my security policy (actually he said I can't be going around having come mug me painted all over), it does not address the root of my beef.

I am no longer comfortable in my own property, my own car. How on earth does having the ownership of my cards and everything else be a good thing?

In Between

The husband of a former colleague passed away today. I read about it on her Facebook tweet.

It is news that on one hand, doesn't come as a surprise - he was much older than her. And yet on another, saddens me to the depths of my soul. For theirs is a great love story and as I recall her telling me about it, I find my eyes welling up with tears.

In this world, where relationships come and go as quickly as the seasons, it almost makes me wish that he was still alive, frail as he was, just to fulfill my own selfish need, to have evidence that exceptions to the rule of our modern times, still stand.

They made that conscious decision so many decades ago and they made every single day count. In a way I'm glad she met him when she was at the tender age of 20. They had a lovely long run and while they may be relegated to the status of mere memories now, it is a testament that truly, life only has one beginning and one ending. It's the in-between that counts. And mind you - there is just one, albeit a long one.

Which is probably why we're planning for next summer, before this summer has even properly begun. Cos at the end of the day, if the ending comes before the next 11 months are through - at the very least, there was the shared anticipation, excitement and joy.

Rest in peace Jim. And thank you for having given Lini so much joy.

Intervention

I often wonder, how is it that people would rather live with anger and angst than to speak out or up?

It's a bit of a silly thing to wonder, cos at times, I too am guilty of the same. But if I had any say in it, I'd rather someone put in a bit of intervention, than to let sleeping dogs lie.

Cos at the end of the day, I'd rather go to bed satisfied that a situation has been resolved, than to wake up with a cloud hanging over my head.

But then again, that's just me. And I can't really say the same for what someone else might prefer. Perhaps, there are those who do like waking up with a dark cloud following them around, just so they feel there is something going in their lives.

How Do I Begin..

This visit to Ireland is turning out better than I thought it would be. Perhaps, I am filled with less worries this year round and that has allowed me to soak it all in.

I have done more travelling and experiencing this trip than I have done in a long time. Travelling, whether far or near, has been a series of "going thru the motions" but the last few days, I have seen, tasted, walked and chilled out more than I have.

I know Ben would probably clobber me on the head - all these comparatives, but it is a fact that I must acknowledge.For everything that I have done, I can have photographs to show you, stories to relate and synopsis to provide. YET words and photos would never be able to show you the feeling of "being there" can. And that really is the heart of it.

We all go through so many experiences day in, day out. Some of us may have a habit of recounting it back to the ones who share our lives. And some other don't. I have always through it offensive and excluding - the latter category. But now I realise that sometimes, once the moment's come and gone, the emotions exhausted - there really is nothing left to tell.

And maybe... just maybe... in attempting to encapsulate it in words, mere words, would not do it justice. No, no justice at all.

Perhaps that is why they say - somethings are better left unsaid.

Two chaps basking in the side street of Cork City Sunday morning, playing familiar tunes - but the point of this would be that grey clouds hung overhead, and this pic was caught in a moment when the rest of the town cast grey and gloomy.

Gratefulness

It has been a long time since something moved me to my desk; compelled me enough to have to unclog my thoughts from my head before I drown in them.

It's really two things actually. And while they are not related, it comes back to the key of tonight's thoughts ~ Gratefulness.

The first was when a young girl I have never met but have made the acquaintance of, shared with me online how her family has been utterly torn apart and is in chaos. It makes me sad, that the laws that are suppose to uphold the innocence of her childhood is not doing its job in her country. It makes me angry that her dad (my so-called friend) can be so warped that he forgets, he is father to not one but five. And that the other four needs him.

I do not know how to begin to tell a 10-year-old that the silver lining in all this is that both her parents are fighting to have her in their lives. Which is better than some other kids, whose parent could forsake them, wiping them clean from memory. I do not know how to say that without having this powerful surge of anger come rushing through. Which I'm trying very hard to stem cos the dead can no longer do anything about it.

Apart from struggling to be at peace with the fact that I still bear this source of this anger which I thought was laid to rest so many months ago, I am no doubt grateful that he then chose to walk away without even a peep backwards. Cos then, today it could be my kids asking the same questions and having the same pain. I am grateful it's happening to someone else's child and not mine.

As for the second, it's been all over the news. 

Some two hours of flying time away, a modern city lays somewhat smoldering. The latest update from Reuters Live has the count as forty-two dead and three hundred over persons injured. 

Bangkok was the first city I navigated on my own at the tender age of twelve. And since then, I have gone back a number of times. Thailand has never been a place that struck me a violent and filled with terror. Even in their desperate hours post-tsunami, you could still feel the love radiating out of the devastation that the waves brought.

5 years of unrest finally came down to today's impasse. And the whole time as I watched intermittently for news updates.. and as a  Thai friend pleaded over Facebook - please pray for us, please pray for our beloved Thailand... I just kept thinking - please God, do not let this be another Tienanmen Square. 

I am pleased that the leaders of the opposing faction had the sense to surrender themselves and their cause so that more lives would not be lost. But as the news updates comes in - the passion of the angst has been stoked to a level where they are like a wild fire - beyond any one person's control. 

As I write that, I turn to look out at the sky, hoping to see the flaming redness that has been hogging it the last couple of evenings, signaling the pending rain. Praying for the families who have lost someone today, in the last six weeks is one thing. Having the fear that a place you once thought safe and familiar was and still is held tightly in the bind of terror is another. But the guilty one would be heaving a sigh of relief that no matter how much we may condemn our own country, we know that it is unlikely we would come to such a state.

As Tara of LivesayHaiti rightfully says: It is not encouraging to hear that the major change in someone's life was that they were glad the bad thing happened elsewhere.

And that is where I stand. Have been standing. Afraid of the good that lies just beyond the horizon not because we've never been blessed. Everyday, we are blessed. I AM blessed. But more because I am afraid of what I would do with this great abundance of blessings. 

And more importantly - would it change me from the ME that I have come to be and love, to the ME that I was caught in before.

In writing this, the news has updated that the death toll in Bangkok has upped one to forty-three.

In writing this, I have lost another day to grabbing my task by the horns and taming the bull.

In writing this, I have come to realise that while my gratefulness, on the surface, is that rotten things are happening to other people and other places. The deeper bit that has come is this: I am grateful that good things are happening to me BECAUSE it will empower me to go beyond just writing about my frustrations in not being able to pay-it-back. I will finally, be able to do more than just tell someone else's story in the hopes that someone who is in the position to help will. 

I will finally be able to be that someone.

So take my hand and lift me higher
Be my love and my desire
Hold me safe and honor bound
Take my heart to
Higher ground

For that realisation and clarity of thought and purpose: I am grateful.

How Do...

Here's what in my head right now:

How do you know if someone is happy - as in 'joyful' happy? We can ask - but often than naught, no one wants to admit that they are unhappy.

Why is it that we assume that if someone is attached, as in married, there is no longer the need to ask them If they are happy? Is it set in stone that once you're fixed for life, happiness is a given thing?

When does the course of one's future changes? Is there a specific moment in time that you can pinpoint as the exact moment when the course you thought you were set for, changes?

It's a whole bunch of gibberish and I'm trying to connect the dots - if there exists one.

Multiplication

I have opened and shut this page for the umpteenth time as I wait for our final candidate of the season to conclude his interview.

It's been a long season - the longest I think in the existence of this business. But something tells me it's worth the wait, the anxiety and the unbelievable amount of time spent on the phone and email. I have to believe that it will pay off cos if it doesn't, I'm just as good holding a live grenade in my hands.

I cannot believe though that I am picking this day to say out-loud that I'm overwhelmed. Yes, I am. Stressed doesn't underpin this emotion but overwhelm does. And I should have recognised it as it is a long time ago - after all, hasn't been "Defying Gravity" the theme song for the last 2 months?

The realisation of how far I have come, and how much further I have to go (when one thinks this is the pinnacle!) is blowing me away.

Life is an un-ending cycle, I know that. There never really is a finish line. It's like a relay - you get from one pass-point to another, except you're always the other runner waiting with his or her hands for the baton. Foolish me to think that at the end of this run, I'm done and home-free. There.Is.No.Such.Thing!

Especially if next year I do not want a repeat of tomorrow. And just what is tomorrow? The Sports Day of both my kids. Woo-Hoo you say? Yeah - woo-hoo indeed, except that they go to different schools. And so, unless I am able to miraculously wake up and find that I have physically and mentally split into another ME, one is going to be disappointed when the sun sets tomorrow.

It's things like these that gets to me. Things like knowing for a fact that one goes to a fee-paying school and another has to sweat the day out in an un-airconditioned classroom. That when my friends call me for lunch, half the time I shouldn't go cos I'm never the one reaching out to take the bill. Cos honestly, half the time, our lunch bill is massive enough to cover my entire month's grocery bill. That when the school holidays come round, everyone can make plans and take vacation days cos they are going off somewhere. But my vacation days are taken so my folks have a break from minding the kids. And yes, we stay home and veg out on the carpet in front of the telly.

As you can see, I can go on-and-on-and-on on the wee many things that overwhelm me. And no matter how I keep telling myself that it's just a few more months (6!), then the sun will come out and things will be alright. Or if not alright, at least better.

The road is long, windy and I cannot see the exit sign.

Perhaps multiplying me might not be such a good idea after all. This is not a scenario where the more is merrier. Having more simply means an extrapolation of the things that have been overwhelming me.

And we really do not need any more of those.

Taking Stock

I'm sitting here and trying to catch a moment to take stock of the on-goings. Unfortunately, it has been an attempt that has been in progress for the last 10 minutes of so.

I am not sure if the trends have changed again. It some how feels too good to be true - this fueling of my sales spirit. Right up to the weekend, we have been processing applications and moving things forward towards the admissions line. And I must say, from where I am standing, even with some generous sprinkling of pessimism, it is still looking good.

"Don't count your chickens before your eggs hatch" - that is the golden rule I learnt from last year. Perhaps that harsh lesson was so traumatic that I have applied it to every instance, blocking out a lot of realities even though it is already there, right in front of my face.

Don't get me wrong. I am most certainly pleased. This is after all what every person with ambition and drive strives for in their career. Reflecting on my professional journey, in a place filled with many professional memories - I have come a long way. Never for once, way back then, did I ever think I'd stand in the same ballroom where an "Umph" (as a sign of assent) was eagerly awaited upon, and hear my own private limited company's name being mentioned, signalling the beginning of a new chapter.

I feel blessed. I AM BLESSED. 

Breathe in, breathe out 

There's only now 

And all I got, I'm holding in my hands 

We're breaking out of 

Brokenpromiseland 

Ms Big

I've been silent again here on Barbsie. A lot of thoughts have come and gone in this wee brain of mine. Some stayed and some vanished. And better yet - some vanquished.

A new pattern of living has emerged. Days are getting longer, simply by setting that alarm to go off an hour earlier. The extra time is once again channeled back into work. It's quite scary - these glimpse of a life I had abandoned 2 years ago. Scary cos I might lose balance all over again.

I remember a year ago, someone commented that the career change I made was akin to going into semi-retirement. The comment stayed not cos of the person (cos he is one we do not like, despite cited to be having ears that looks like mine) but cos at that time it was like "Wait a minute there!Hell NO boy! But over time, learning to lead a balanced life has made me sit down and realise that in all that busy-ness, I was really stuck in a vacuum space.

My favourite author, Paulo Coelho says this: Tal vez solo hay una vida para ser vivida. Pero si lo haces bien, una vez es suficiente ~ You may only live once. But if you do it right, once is enough. 

Living right used to be having a position that is respected and envied. Living right used to be driving the right car, wearing the right clothes, sending the kids to the right school and mixing with the right crowd. Boy was I blind! And it took a bit of semi-retirement to see the light.

The world shook once again last week, even as we are still grappling to recover from its last bout of “itchies” (Luke’s way of understanding earthquake) it had. And while they may be deaths of people who are absolute strangers to me, there is a lesson to be learnt – if we but open ourselves to it.

Perhaps it is a bit premature, but today, I will celebrate the life of a lady named Margaret who I read about in Tara’s blog. I will go to church this evening and light a candle in her name. For she has gone ‘home’ to await the angels who will come to take her back to her Father. And I will celebrate the people who have made it possible for her to do this.

The last time I wrote, I asked myself “What can I do then today, on my borrowed time, that would make me proud of who I have become?” I have yet to find my answer. I have many thoughts, many plans – all stuck in this wee two bit head of mine, waiting to be downloaded.

Something is holding me back. Something is keeping me from moving forward. I do know what it is and I’m trying to wrap my head around it so that I can be unwrapped from it.

Maybe Ben is right – Why do I always have to seek to change the whole world? Why can I not be satisfied if what I do today, this minute, this moment, can help change the life of just one?

I do not have the answers for those questions. Not yet at least. All I know is this for now ~ I don’t want to be blind again. Not when I see and read of so many folks who really see the light and is living being led by it. And because I do not want to be blind again, I do have to find the answers to those two questions.

I'd sooner buy defying gravity
Kiss me goodbye ~ I'm defying gravity
And you can't pull me down

Time - Not Ours

One of the blogs that I started following this year is that of Gwenn Mangine, an American missionary based in Haiti. Gwenn's reflection has not failed to touch a chord within my soul - it is my hope that one day, if I am blessed, I can shake the hand of this fine lady.

Following this blog is not the easiest thing to do though on a daily basis. Cos it deals with things that are beyond my - in fact, any of us - control. And it often deals with a subject that I am still trying to learn more about, come to terms with and accept as part and parcel of life (yes, I am delusional like that!).

Her latest post, about Jean Claude (R.I.P.) really brings home one point - that our time, on earth - is well and truly not ours. Just as I read somewhere the other day, my children are not mine - they are on loaned to me from above, so is our time and this thing we call life. For this man survived an earthquake that claimed hundreds and thousands of lives, only to lose his in a fire.

What can I do then today, on my borrowed time, that would make me proud of who I have become? 

Good Ole Days

It's the first day of the lunar new year and it has been a non-stop day at my grandma's house.

What fascinates me is this: Grandma is now well into her nineties, wheel-chair bound. But it doesn't stop people who are my relatives from coming by, in whatever stage of their golden years, and paying their respect and new year wishes to her.

For the better part of the day, the household has been kept busy as distant uncles, thrice-removed cousins and even the neighbours come through our gate, bearing gifts of mandarin oranges and red packets of money gifts, to see grandma.

And I am fascinated simply cos it is a tradition that is almost dead. I have yet to personally wish any of my friends, and vice versa. Ask me if I'm doing any visiting - my reply would be a simple - Who is there to visit?

The good ole days where weeks before the lunar new year starts, these sames relations would come bearing baskets of food and all, have come and gone. It would be something that my children would not understand nor appreciate.

I supppose, this pang of melancholy is enough to make me reflect, if perhaps, it might be something I might want to introduce into their lives. Would it be enough to bring back the good ole days?

Degrees of Belief

I am stressed. You'd only have to take a look at the skin on my arms to know the degree at which I am stricken with anxiety. And the race has not even officially begun. Yet, I am already having sneezing fits from hay fever, interrupted sleep plagued by all sorts of nonsensical dream (tho' a reoccurring one of me having problems with home renovation is nice to have!) and the endless glum that something - anything - can and will go wrong.

I know my folks and friends will say - just go through the motions, everything is already there for the receiving. Yet, I cannot help but worry and doubt and fear.

Our resident priest writes a weekly thingy in the church's bulletin. And his this week was one that made me almost one to cry. As he writes about the fears that grips our souls, he also confesses that at age 80+ and wheel-chair dependent, his greatest fear is of falling - finding himself on the cold cement floor of the bathroom or at the end of the corridor where no one can hear him call for help.

And I look at Father Voile. And then I look at my folks who live off whatever small fruits that God bestows on them. And then I look at the pages I read - of Troy and Tara, of Gwenn and most recently of Gwenn's mother, and I hang my head in shame. For their fears are so much more real than mine - which I do admit to a certain degree, stems from my lil maggot in the head.

We all have different degrees of belief. I can only pray that as I journey along, with the support from both Heaven and earth, the depths of mine will only grow deeper.

Dad's Wisdom

I rarely get an occasion to sit down and have a talk with my dad. Perhaps it's cos as time passes, he spends more time in prayer, deep thought and service to others and being a full-time grandpa getting up at 6 a.m. - napping.

Today, since I haven't been home much these past 2 weeks, I decided to take the evening school run drive with him and then to the optician so he could get his glasses fixed. On the drive, we spoke about work, the progress that has been made and the bright future that awaits yonder in the horizon. 

As I took the driver's seat to move the car in the mad streets of Taipan, I realised just how badly we needed this bright future. His junk of a Volvo is literally held together with all sorts of tape, glue and stitches. As I sunk my butt into his seat, it.literally.sank. 

I wish time could go faster so that this future would materialise sooner. But I know that is not going to be the case. And I can continue to frustrate myself with the passing of days, it is not going to change anything. If anything, it would only make life harder to live.

"Be patient," dad advised. "It is nothing but a timeline that you're living out."

Yes, I must remember that each time I have to swallow hard. My dad may not be very much in stature and material wealth, but he is full of wisdom.

Turn of a Dime

It's Saturday morning and I'm sitting at my desk, in my cubby-hole in the sky, listening to the kids argue about what cartoon they want to watch.

It's Saturday morning and I'm sitting at my desk, knowing I must spend the next few hours, plowing through a pile of reports sent through by Enterprise Ireland, building my case why the business funding can be cut, but not at the levels I have read.

It's Saturday morning and I'm sitting at my desk, trying very hard not to remember that some 10,888 miles away, people are suffering at a depth that I have found so hard to comprehend.

Our generation are no strangers to news of natural disasters, heart-breaking calamities. The first thing most of us do when we wake up in the morning (if we have the luxury of time) is to turn on the global news network and our computer, to see what's happened in the world while we slept soundly in our beds.

When the Tsumnami struck in the Asian region years ago, many of us stayed glued to our tellys, watching re-runs of people getting swept away, home-movie makers screaming as they filmed these moments of life OR death, joining queues of people packing aid items much needed.

I'd be very honest with you and admit that prior to the last week, Haiti was a blur thing in my knowledge vault. It still is. All I know about it is what I have read on CNN, BBC and Wikipedia. We have poor countries here in our region as well. Philippines, India, China and its shanty towns. So really, Haiti would be no different.

Yet it is. It feels vastly different to me.

And while I know I should not question why God has allowed such a stroke of pain to befall an already sad country and her people, I find myself nonetheless asking "Where is God is all this?"

As I read the blogs of individuals who have chosen to dedicate some part of their lives and skills to the people of Haiti, even before the earthquake struck, I am hoping I'd find the answer to my question (before I march up to my parish priest tomorrow morning, that is and ask him in his face). As it is, it is a strange sensation - as a blogger - to read of a seemingly normal life in a foreign country, and to have days of silence in between and a fresh posting telling of the destruction and loss. But I will continue to plow through these silent thoughts of these individuals, feeling the pain in the words they have chosen.

Perhaps through it all, I will find some sense in this madness. Sense that will ease my ever-growing feeling of helplessness and selfishness. And hopefully, my faith will be restored and be used for the glory of the Almighty.

As one blogger's moment of irony says: Avec Jesus Tout Va Bien ~ with Jesus everything is going to be alright.

At the end of the day, when we can do nothing more or nothing at all, perhaps the best thing we have left are the very words of our Lord ~ Into Your Hands, I commend my spirit.

Follow the situation as they unfold from those who had chosen to devote their lives in a way you and I can never do:

http://www.mangine.org/

http://livesayhaiti.blogspot.com/

Life can change at the turn of a dime. Let us do well to remember that.

A Dark Day Passing for Malaysia

When I started the day with a status tweet of “Barbs is looking out at the sky and feeling dreadful, simply dreadful” little did I think how far that statement would go as this 8^th day of the New Year unfolds.

There has been recent uproar in the country, over prohibition of certain quarters of the community on a certain word of the Malay language. Something that should never have started, escalated over the course of the day to a near boiling point, fueled (pardon the pun) of course by both tunnel vision and a lack of vision.

Being a Christian (and a Catholic for that matter), of course it angers me that my house of worship, my sanctuary was violated (Yes, I’m an Assumption parishioner). It angers me that my dear Father Voile, in his state of immobility could have been hurt if the attack had really worked. It angers me that there are folks – individuals who could be neighbours, friends, dudes from the next table at the mamak, audacious enough to think that my faith would be weakened, threatened by a few bottles of petrol.

But most of all, it angers me that both parties had allowed this to come to head as it did over the course of time.

The first – the powers-who-be at the helm of the publication Herald. Fine and well that they are transcending beyond the lines of religion and playing their part in racial unity by wanting to bring the word(s) of God closer (in a communication context) with the insistent usage of a “sacred” word. But I think that entire nobility behind the idea lost its steam when its insistence made it way to the corridors of law. That, my friend, to me stinks of nothing but ‘personal assertion’ and egotism.

Mind you, these are learned men (even if they are men of the cloth – do you know how many PhD holders there are in the realm of the Church??!!) and so they must know that the sociological impact of such a move. It would be shameful if they wake up tomorrow and read the papers then go “Oh I didn’t know that bit.. hmmmm…. What should I do now?”

The second – the powers-that-be in the running of this country. Fine and well that by virtue of majority, we are a Muslim country. Yet, if we prided ourselves extensively on the fact that we are a multi-racial society, then the issue of language falls out of the scope of religion and comes under that multi-racial unity bit. If this were not true, then why did we then in the 80s (or was it the 90s) change the naming of the language from Bahasa Melayu to Bahasa Malaysia, just so that citizens not of the Malay race would feel encouraged to use the language more extensively?

Add to that beef, people in office should bear in mind that everything they say and do, reflects on the running of the office, the country. Having individuals come out with nerve-jarring statements – did you really pick the right person for the job there?

The papers have termed this as a dark day for the country, for the nation. They have categorized these acts of violence and violations as taking a step back from progress and development. And I agree. People – we’re no longer in the deep dark ages. Education is now compulsory up to a reasonable level. It may not be a great one, but being able to read and write does bring one a big step further than being held at ransom at what others tell you. Attacking one Christian place of worship every 4 hours is not gonna get you anywhere – not when there are over 3000 denominations of Christianity in the world. (At this point, I must applaud the perpetrators for being impartial and not just targeting one denomination. Thanks for spreading the luv mates!) It is nothing but a simple act of cowardice and puts your learning (regardless of the level you stopped) to shame.

Christianity is no longer a repressed religion. Hell – the Catholic Church has our own state for crying out loud – what more advancement can we ask for? Heaven on earth? God playing a round of golf with you on Sunday morning? And honestly, if you know your Holy Book well, you would know that the Old Testament speaks of a race being oppressed. Their religion was not the cause of that oppression. So don’t turn this into a song and dance about our basic rights being repressed in our country.

As my long, Long, LONG day ends and an even longer month begin, I hang my head in shame. Not because of who runs my country. Nor is it because of who leads the order of my faith.

I hang my head in shame for the loss of rationale and humility in my community.

I hang my head in shame for the loss of solidarity among friends, among neighbours.

I hang my head in shame for the emptiness of words that I should hold in high esteem from persons whose office I respect (I may not respect them but hey, it’s the chair that matters.)

But most importantly, I hang my head in shame at the flagrant breakage of the commandment – Thou Shall Not Use the Name of the God in vain.

I don’t know about you. But I for one know that I have solid reason to ask for forgiveness from Abba / God / Tian-zhu / Allah as I stand contrite for letting emotions of fear and anger overshadow my fear of His commandments.

And I will take comfort in knowing that regardless of what I call Him, God listens to the language of the heart and the soul. And that He will overlook the bout of temporary insanity and know in our heart of hearts, He is all that matters.

With that, sleep tight Malaysia. The dark day has come to an end. Tomorrow is yet to be written. And it's all in our own hands, how we want it to end. 

THIS Side Please

Unknown to a lot of folks, I am a brooder. I lie awake most night, twisting and turning, this way and that, turning thoughts, ideas, dreams over and over in my head. When close friends throw me an opinion opportunity, I would mostly likely assume automatically the role of Devil's Advocate.

My last day of last year started with a long conversation with my partner, my sounding board, my cricket; him showing me the picture in his head for the decade that lies in waiting, and me trembling in fear at how he could be setting him (and us) up for plenty moments of failure.

These are grand times ahead of us. Both of us as I step forward to assume a role that I have worked towards all my professional life. As I said in my last posting - it was a dream I dared to dream, but never dared to go after. In my last 3 jobs, it was the "secret" hope that they would come to this bountiful harvest. And with each let down, I pushed that dream a little further away until this one came along.

Even with a mere 273 days left standing in between me and this life-changing moment, I am half-convinced that something, somewhere would creep up out of the ground like a cheeky gofer and trip me over. 

"If you want to change the action, you have to change the thinking" says Zig Zigler in my never-ending calendar for today. And I know this saying is very true.

And so if I were to consciously make a resolution for the year ahead, I guess it would be to choose to stand more often on this side of the fence - the side of positive thought and energy. 

As Paulo Coelho says: When our heart wins the battle against our fears, wonders lie ahead.

And indeed, grand times awaits me. And if ever I forget, my Chief Whip Officer will not hesitate to remind me.

Halle Halle

So, a year has come and gone.

For some of us, it has been a fantastic year – a year where all our anticipations, our commitment, our hard work – they all took off and brought it home.

For others, it has been a year of endless pressure, facing life changing decisions – one after the other. A year where it may have felt like we had nowhere to hide.

And again, for others, it has been a year where the never meant to happen happened. The unexpected took place. It may have left us reeling from the aftermath or it may have left us wanting more.

I have run from the truth

Since the days of my misspent youth

I was hungry for kindness

I was lost in life's blindness

It has been my tradition, since I started blogging, to do a capping blog for the year. As I sit down to reflect upon the year past, I cannot help but ask myself – Where does the end of 2009, and this decade, leave me? BUT better yet, as we end that sentence, follows the thought – Where has this year BROUGHT me?

When you're born without wings

All you dream of, all you want

Is that feeling of flying

Of rising and climbing

The start of the New Year sees me standing on the precipice of an awesome new adventure – one I had dared to dream but never dared to go after. It is one that has been in the making for the last 18 months. As we go into the home-stretch, I am so filled with awe and at the same time, packed with trepidation. For a person with a multitude of commitment phobias, the strokes of the pen on the spots-marked-X come Quarter 2 2010 would be the biggest commitment I would have ever made.

If we left this year’s reflection at that, it would pass muster and join the ranks of years past. For in re-reading the cap for the last two years, I must admit that life has been kind - not one year has yet to end on a bad note. And to mark 2009 as my final year as an employee would definitely not qualify as a bad note. But the depth of what 2010 would come to symbolize would be lost if not for this year.

For this year, I understood and welcomed what it meant to love myself first; a notion that has been droned on and on by those in my circle. That it was not selfish to put myself first in all things. More importantly, that I need no other reason or motivation to go after what I set out to achieve – me, myself and I are reason solid enough to climb mountains.

We can all give the excuse that with living comes obligations - to our families, our employers, our friends. But surely, as this is our life, we owe it to ourselves to fulfill obligations to our own self as well. As an old friend mentioned over tea last weekend – I AM my most important person for if I were to collapse, everything and everyone who stands with me, collapses as well. Hence, I should be my NUMBER 1 priority.

I recall my ‘auspicious’ word (demanded at gun-point) from the love of my life (OMG! Did we just come out and say that?) said the day I turned 34 – the best thing to celebrate for the day, is the fact that I am ALIVE. Not just living and breathing but experiencing and embracing.

Always thought I’d die young
In these hands I help the gun
But it's too late for dying
Now there's nothing worth hiding

It was a scary step to take, especially when somehow, somewhere along the lines, you convince yourself that you’re “arrived” and there is nothing more to learn, no one credible enough left to teach. I am grateful, that these half-blind eyes of mine, was pried open to see the error of my ways; that I did not have to suffer a great fall to acquire such wisdom. Especially when the year brought so close to home the realness of human mortality.

I've lost love, lived with shame

I was humbled by my fall from grace

On the steps of decision

It's revenge or forgiveness

For this year also saw me burying one of my own. Yes, I know – but hey, we have to call it as it is and acknowledge that he was somehow one of my own. We cannot close the year without remembering that close encounter with the hooded one holding his scythe.

As I had corrected Mandy when she categorized it as being “happier times”, we will always remember it but as of “happy times.” My world and views have changed since then, that even the simplest of things brings me much joy, which probably explains why I was able to grieve and really close that chapter we used to call “being young and naïve.”

Halle Halle - We're one breath away

With the CIA World Factbook giving the 2009 estimate of the Malaysian female to live up to 76.21 years – I have about 32 years left out of this thing I call life. Tomorrow, Regret, Failure – these are not the things I want to be left thinking about when my time runs out.  

Halle Halle - From our judgment day

At the end of the day, of the year, of the decade – there can be so many lessons that I can scribe down. But nothing is as important as being fully conscious of the fact that this life is transient. What I achieve and amass today, I cannot take with me on the morrow when the sand in my hourglass runs out. 

So as I make our plans, set my goals for 2010, make that personal commitment to be better at who I am, and what I do. As I work toward it, I would do well to not forget to every now and then, look around. Drink it in 'cause this is it. It might all be gone tomorrow.

AND I know I can do it – cos I am not going into it alone. While as this year passes, I may have been physically alone, experienced loneliness of a depth that cripples you – yet, my persons were always there. And though I have said it many times before, I will say it again – Because you, you and you (you know who you are), I am grateful to be alive.

You leave it all on the table

If you lose or you win

In closing, I will borrow the words of Brazilian writer Paulo Coelho and say: May love fill your heart, compassion guide your mind, faith rule your soul!

You got to learn to love

The world you're living in

Happy New Year folks! Experience and embrace everything 2010 throws your way – You might just Be Amazed!

Learn to Love

Bon Jovi – The Circle

Author’s Note:

The words in italics are taken from the NBA’s “Where Amazing Happens”. It is on this campaign that the tenets of “Study in Ireland - Be Amazed” was drawn upon. Needless to say, when it involves a round bouncy orange ball, it is inspired by none other. "Instead of fear, be inspired!"

The Spirit of Christmas

"It's definitely very seasonal weather going on here," said my colleague Kathryn as we caught up quickly over the phone this evening. Temperatures are at a high of 7 degrees in Dublin with blasting cold winds and frost ~ it doesn't really ever snow in Ireland. And unfortunately for us, the rains seemed to have stopped crossing over our valley here in the tropics, bringing with it the same ole level of humidity and sunny rays.

I must say, there's something about the sight of people huddled deep and down in their woolies that make Christmas a wee bit more Christmassy in those parts of the world with four seasons (and winter being in the right time of the year). The twinkle of the lights on outdoor tree decorations seem to sparkle just that little bit more, possibly cos our eyes are watering from the exposure to cold. Perhaps wintery weather drives the spirit of the season a bit closer as we hurry along our way to get out of the cold, in the hope of a warm home awaiting.

And that would be my point for tonight. Cos Christmas, as my religion teaches, is a time of hope. For the birth of Christ was the beginning of our salvation. As God-turned-man, he was also given free will - as with all of us. Hence, to me, it is the essence of hope - hope that he would make the right choices as he grows to be the man who ultimately allows himself to be crucified on the cross, to redeem us lost souls.

While we now know how the story did eventually turn out, we should try and recapture the emotions of the world back then - when they did not have the Bible to fast-forward the chapters and pages to the end. And so they had to wait. And wait with heart overflowing with hope. To the point that kings traveled from afar and shepherds with their flock came to pay homage upon his birth.

And so as we open our year-end pay slips, read through our performance reviews, empty the bank accounts for the start of a new school year and put up that new calendar on the wall. As we steel ourselves for next month's credit card bill, where the indulgences in line with the festivities catches up with us and our partners start planning for next year's getaway.

Perhaps it might do us some good to have some of that hope that the people did so many thousands of years ago. That somewhere down the road, our salvation (in whatever form that applies to you) awaits us as well.

If we but have a little more faith and resist the urge to fast-forward this, as we tend to do with so many other things in our live - our patience and perseverance might just reward us in the end.

Happy days ahead folks! Happy days indeed!

Pet Shop Bouys

“You were right” I said to LB this morning as we spoke about my final contract. I have come to realize over the weekend that perhaps sometimes in my haste and suicidal need to save the world, I make a horrible judge of characters and situations. And in the end of it all, I gather unnecessary stress and jitters on to myself.

It’s December. And we all know that December is always a bad month for me, to be left to my own devices.

Perhaps I was being selfish in retrospect. Thinking that by playing a superhero of sorts, my own cold winter could be kept at bay.

Now we learn otherwise.