Anatomy Of A Phone Call.

"Hey."
"Hey back to you. (2s) Is something wrong? It's 1 in the morning."
"No... (0.5) no! Nothing's wrong. (0.3) Umm."

Yes there is. Something's wrong with me. Something's wrong with us. But I don't know how to explain it, and that is part of the problem too.

"Oh, right. (2) Okay then. (1.5) So... (0.8) what's up?"
"Nothing much.. (1.2) Just can't seem to sleep."

I don't know. I can't sleep. I want to hear the sound of your voice, but I am afraid to tell you that too. What's happened to us?

"Oh. (1.8) So you.. (0.5) you want to talk?"
"Sorry.. (1.8) It's okay. (0.8) It's late and you have work tomorrow."

I want to talk. I want to talk to you so much. But I don't think I can anymore. What happened to the days when we used to talk for the sake of hearing each others' voices? We'd talk about anything just to keep each other on the line. Must there now be something up before we call each other? When did our first reaction to late night calls become to assume something was wrong instead of that initial heady delight of yet more time together, airtime, anytime?

"Yeah. (0.4) Sorry babe, I had a really long day today."
"Yeah. (0.1) No, don't worry about it, I'll see you tomorrow for dinner yeah?"

I don't know when we became so apologetic to each other. So polite to each other. Like we've become afraid of offending each other, but we're afraid of admitting that we're afraid too. When did a love that seemed so strong become so fragile? Why can't we discuss our fears honestly any longer, when did all this fear about us creep in? Maybe if I figure out when and why and how it's happened we can turn back the clock. Maybe tomorrow can be the distant past.

"Mmm. (0.5) Of course you will. (2.4) Good night dear."
"...(1.2) Yeah. (1.7) Good night."

And sweet dreams. I don't know what's wrong, I don't know what's happening, what's happened to us. Tomorrow is going to be incrementally worse than today and I don't think I will be able to call you again tomorrow night. How is it possible that I've never felt more lonely than when I was on the phone with you? Why can't I seem to share what's going on with me here, now, when we used to share all our hopes and dreams, and fears too? I don't know what will happen tomorrow, but I know it's not going to get any better. What happened to all the tomorrows we were going to spend, to the life we were going to take on together? What happened to the future we've forgotten?



*The numbers in brackets () are, in numbers of seconds, an attempt to capture silence as text.
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I read the other day this phrase - the sickness of long thinking - which seems to perfectly describe melancholia. Sometimes, at least, it does, I think.

A curious melancholy had settled onto me yesterday, as I woke up at 3pm and wondered what I was going to do with the remains of the day. A couple of clicks on my laptop later I stumbled upon the song White Fire by Angel Olsen, a dark, spare song which determined my mood. Which resulted in "A Tree, A Life, A Shout. Silence."

It is completely fictional, as I had not thought to point out, and it is not cause for alarm. Not something I'd expected, but looking back at it I can see how it might be concerning, so VMT Anonymous for that. I did reply in an entirely elaborate fashion, the point being, don't worry!

I have been fascinated for some time with the philosophical question of whether "If a tree falls and no one is there to hear it, does it still make a sound?" as a metaphor for a person's life without anyone else around. No one to care for, no one who cares about. A life completely alone.

So that super-short story was kind of a thought experiment, and also one in literary style. Inspired, I think, by those gripping first-person narratives like Clockwork Orange or One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest, also the scariest ones. Guess it was way too short to have been obvious as a story, and fiction, and I wanted that element of dark, believable, realism.

And this here story is inspired in part by my stumbling on a completely new Mogwai song called Music For A Forgotten Future, linked from Angel Olsen to Sleep Party People to Mogwai's Take Me Somewhere Nice. Serendipity.

Also one of those thoughtcatalogue articles (have I ever mentioned how irritated I am by the proliferation of those on my newsfeed, as well as their declining quality I feel) which tried to explain the difference between being alone and lonely. Loneliness is most devastating when you're not supposed to be, when it takes you unawares, when you're not even alone.

That's what this story is about, hopefully. One big disclaimer here: Never been in a relationship myself so you know this is completely 100% fictional and possibly totally bogus as well. It is purely from imagination, trying to imagine what a relationship a-ways past the initial stages of being in love could feel like, what a phone call like that would sound like.

It is about fear, insecurity, fear of insecurity. Being too afraid to open up, being guarded with the ones you love the most. The people who care the most are the last people you're willing to open up to. Of caring so much you're afraid to let the people you care for know it. About distant pasts, forgotten futures.

It is not about me.

Hope you enjoyed it.

A Tree, A Life, A Shout. Silence.

some days you wake up at three in the afternoon and you realize it doesnt matter does it not to anyone at all. you have woken up and you are wondering what to do and you come up with nothing and there is no one to tell. you think your life is a mess and there is no one to tell you that no it is not you are beautiful and your life has meaning after all. you run a hot shower and you stand in there for five minutes ten twenty thirty and you think why should i leave. it is warm and it is comfortable here and what is the point anyway. you put on some music and you lose yourself in it and you think is that what its all come to to lose yourself to lose to lose to lose lose lose. you think about all the things you have lost the things you never had the things you have given up. you think that life is not fair then you think no life is not fair but it is not not fair that life is life and that is life isnt it. you think if only i could share these thoughts with someone if only i could share my life with someone anyone i might still be saved. you think a tree has fallen in a forest and of course there is a sound but so what so what if there was so what so what is the point. what is the point.

(I've Got To Give It Away.)

It's been quite a few weeks lately. Right after my previous post there was the Weekend Away, an incredibly blessed event where I had the opportunity to see so many people grow spiritually. A friend shared this verse with me, 3 John 1:4 which says: I have no greater joy than to hear that my children walk in truth. Which spoke powerfully to me, especially looking at my friends, and the people I'm supposed to be leading this year too. A great time for building friendships, for quiet reflection, personal growth, etc. 10/10 would do it again.

After that I had a slump-week actually, officially because I was tired from the weekend, but in truth probably because I was not just tired, but lazy. In fact it seems to me that the moments after certain breakthroughs are the most dangerous of all, something in the way my flesh just craves to go back to the way it was before. I pretty much finished 1.5 seasons of Breaking Bad, meaning I'm on the cusp of season 5 now! Seasons 3 and 4 were pretty awesome not gonna lie, 1 and 2 were a whole lot slower and less exciting.

I also watched 2 masterpieces of movies by 2 masters of the craft. Namely, Hayao Miyazaki and Wong Kar Wai. I watched Laputa: Castle in the Sky which has to be one of Miyazaki's earliest features, having been released in 1986! That's more than 25 years ago. But it boasts stunning artwork, an aesthetic that he clearly developed further in his later movies, and the beginnings of a fascination with sci-fi/nature elements that permeates all his movies too. Not as good, I'd say, as Howl's Moving Castle et al, but it was kinda like watching a first draft almost, and there is much to be appreciated in and of itself too.

I then (re-)watched 2046, which I first attempted probably 4-6 years ago? I was clearly waaaaaaaay too young for the movie back then, although it was a period in which I was watching some "art-house" films, and more often than not leaving completely confused probably. But seriously. What a movie?! It's so.. un-Chinese too, if that's even a term. Much more in the vein of Western directors like David Lynch, Lars von Trier, maybe Cronenburg, in terms of.. pure style maybe. An incredible aesthetic, great soundtrack, etc. It felt very much like Wong was directing what he knew to be his magnus opus, it was just so grand and ambitious. It might not be his best work, I think I like the understatement and restraint of In The Mood For Love (and Maggie Cheung) more, but you have to respect what he tried to do with 2046, and to a large extent, succeeded in doing. Not an easy film by any means, and it is obvious why I didn't get it the first time, it was even painful to watch, with themes my poor immature mind (back then) had no way of fully grasping. Unrequited love, longing, desire, unrelinquished pasts.. Heavy, heavy stuff. But those camera shots, wow. Insane to watch. Like half the movie is poster worthy or something. One of the most beautifully shot films I've watched, I think. Cinematography lessons.

I kinda miss the days when Facebook allowed you to choose what to display for your Likes, whether it was books, movies, singers, or TV shows. It was a form of self-expression, man. Which probably also speaks volumes about the importance of perception to me. I was really conscious/aware of my social media presence for sure. Now I'm pretty terrified. I'm just reading a book called The Filter Bubble which argues that the personalization effect of the huge cyber-corporations like Facebook and Google is one with largely insidious effects. It is a scary-ass book. And would you know it, here is Facebook rolling out their Personal Movie/Video for each and every single person on the network. It's easy to shrug it off and say whatever, I'm not affected and it's a cool feature etc. but in this day and age information is power, and there is clearly a disproportionate balance of it now, served further by the fact that most people don't see it as such and happily post stuff on fb et al.

Not that I'm afraid anyone's ever gonna wield it against me per se, but it is scary to think that each click of mine sends out a myriad signals and signifiers to potential advertisers, that my personality could possibly be completely captured within certain algorithms and programmes smart enough to interpret my actions on the net. For anyone with the slightest niggling shadows of doubts about such technological terrors, I would recommend the book to you, it's pretty easy reading and terribly illuminating. I'd be happy to loan it to you if you wanted too, which actually is a given for any book that I own cause sharing is caring and caring is good..

Actually the reason for my post and my title (brownie points if you can guess where it's from) is the fact that I just got my results from the spate of assignments/exams in December/January. What a faithful God have I!

Off the top of my head arithmetic tells me that I scored an average of 65% over 4 essays and one exam. I even got 72% for one essay, my first ever 1st-class grade EVER! Are you even kidding man!!!! I arrived back home on the 5th, first submission on the 9th, exam on the 10th, and then two more on the 14th. Less than a week for them all, and I scored exceedingly above far beyond my expectations for ALL of them haha! First time I'm so excited to get back my essays with the comments and feedback sheesh.

Slightly off-point here, but it was weird that upon opening the email and checking my results I had no idea who to tell, to talk to about it, except for my family. Also because I feel pretty awful for that CNY call cause I was playing DotA while chatting to them. No excuses there. But yeah, it is awkward that while I do have close friends here I'm not entirely comfortable sharing such news with them, unless they ask I guess. Possibly because I don't want to seem to be boasting/gloating? Because they're fellow students and the people whom I'm actually close to know how awful my working/studying habits are? Students are a competitive lot after all, even if it's not the initial response, or even intentional, cause inadvertently we compare ourselves against our peers, so it always seems insensitive to offer information whenever I do well.

I did do some spring cleaning today, even if the weather is trying valiantly to convince me that we are still in the throes of deepest winter, duh. Worst weather I've ever experience in Exe. Did not sweep with a broom so all good fortune retained. Or at least I think that's how it works. Back-breaking work, though.... Vacuuming, wiping down and giving my kitchen a thorough clean (oh that filthy, filthy place) and ironing my clothes, 2 batches of washing, inter alia, sheets pillowcases jeans. All I have left to do is the toilet. Public enemy no.1.5. Because 1) It resembles closely a public toilet and 2) No one wants to be its friend and 3) People do both their Number Ones and Twos there.

I am clearly veering very far off-topic (and off-colour to boot) so I think that shall be it for tonight.. Oh yeah I shall here append an... essay, article, write-up, whatever this is that was actually commissioned by an old friend, Deborah, for the NTU Sports Magazine or something. Completely out of the blue, and I kinda wrote it while I was really tired and dazed and confused, so it's not a particularly good example of travel writing unfortunately. Also some verbatim grabs from one of my previous posts too, only cause I ran out of ideas waaaaaay too quickly.

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Backpacking alone is scary. Most people who have never done it see it as quite an intimidating prospect, and inevitably there are concerns over safety, loneliness, and even boredom sometimes. For all the fears, it can be incredibly rewarding. I can’t pretend I’ve never gotten worried over those things, but in my experience so far, it’s always been worth it, and I’ve learnt so much from each of my trips.

Late last year, I decided to spend my three-week Christmas break traveling around Europe. My trip took me to 6 different countries and just about 12 different cities across Central Europe—from Austria to Slovakia, Hungary, Czech Republic, Poland and finally Latvia. Most of these countries were pretty cheap to visit, especially in winter, and it was surprisingly easy to get around as well. Language was less of a problem than I expected, since most people working in tourist-related sectors do speak English. At a pinch you could try to talk to younger, student-looking people as they’re more likely to speak English. Alternatively you could simply pluck up the courage to approach just anyone on the street.

Which brings me to one of the first lessons I learnt while on the road: Don’t be afraid to make a fool out of yourself. There is no better time to do that than when you’re traveling alone. Nobody knows you, and even the people you meet are not likely to ever see you again, so why bother with what complete strangers think about you? You never realize how much energy you devote to “preserving your image” until you stop doing it, and it is incredibly liberating. I don’t think anything offers as much freedom as solo travel.

Backpacking alone gives you freedom to do whatever you want and to go wherever you want. But with that said,  my second piece of advice would be :Don’t let yourself be constrained by anything, especially not yourself. I like to travel without having anything concrete in mind. Basically what I did this time was to book my flight to Linz, Austria, and back from Riga, Latvia. I had three weeks to figure out how to make my way to Riga and I didn’t really know where exactly I’d be stopping along the way.

“How is that even remotely a good thing?” you might ask. Well, it meant that I got to visit Slovakia, something I wasn’t sure I was going to do, and better yet, it meant that I got to fall in love with that beautiful country. I went from Vienna to Bratislava, thinking I’d spend maybe one day there since many fellow travellers told me there wasn’t too much to do there. Instead, a casual conversation with one of the hostel staff led to her convincing me to visit her hometown, Košice. I couldn’t get any direct transport there cause it was the Christmas period, so I decided to take a detour through the mountains instead.

Which is how I ended up in Ždiar, a little gem of a village in the heart of Vysoké Tatry, the majestic mountain range on the borders of Slovakia and Poland with more than a hint of Alpine grandeur without the hordes of ski-crazy tourists. A tactically placed brochure in my hostel in Bratislava alerted me to the presence of a hostel in the mountains, and so there was no excuse and I would never have forgiven myself for not going. Immense views, insane panoramas, exquisite hikes, hyperbolic pizzas…you couldn't ask for more. My favorite destination this trip, not least because I did not expect it at all. I ended up spending two whole days in the High Tatras and one in Košice, for a grand total of 5 days in Slovakia that I had not planned for at all.  

 I also spent more time in Krakow, Poland, than I initially thought I would, and got to spend a couple of days in Wroclaw too. None of which would have been possible if I’d had a fixed itinerary to begin with. Planning is overrated!

My third and final point is simply to have an open mind, and heart. You’ll meet many different people from all walks of life, and you might make surprising connections with people you never thought you could. You’ll be surprised by how nice complete strangers can be, and how willing people are to help each other on the road. Turn off your phone and stop eagerly looking forward to that next WiFi hotspot. Don’t take pictures or do things in anticipation of the  reception you’re gonna get on Instagram or Facebook. 

Be open to new experiences. On this trip I almost had to sleep on a random bench in Hallstatt (since I was unable to find a hostel), got smashed with some new friends at a local students’ club in Bratislava, bought a SGD$1.70 ticket last minute to watch the Nutcracker at the State Opera in Budapest, spent the last few minutes of Christmas Eve setting off fireworks with some fellow Singaporeans, trekked up Slovakian mountains, took in the  bleak, yet strangely uplifting experience of Auschwitz-Birkenau alone, etc. You can’t plan for all that, but you can create those opportunities. All it takes is the right attitude.

But there is a certain amount of downtime too. It is tiring. It is even boring sometimes. You do get lonely. You get lost and confused and there isn't anyone you know there to help you or comfort you. You choke up at the sight of something so beautiful and profound and there's no one to share it with. You finally make it to the top of the hill to take in the sight of the city below you but there's no one to celebrate with. You sit by the sea with a million thoughts running through your mind and there's no one to talk to.

But you do it anyway. You figure out yourself, you solve your problems, you internalize the beauty of the world because you don't have a choice, you didn't have anyone to blabber to. You learn to think without talking. You get used to you. You achieve things yourself without needing anyone to congratulate you. You start doing things for yourself and not for the adulation of others. I mean sure, you can boast about it when you get back but there's this feeling when you do something significant and realize that right at that moment, no one cares. No one knows to care. You finally arrive at the viewpoint which promises an incredible panorama, and it's taken you 2 hours to climb, and it was tough-going, but no one actually cares. No one even knows you're there, what you've done. No one but you. And maybe, just maybe, you start to realize that your self-worth does not, should not, cannot, be based on what the world says about you. It's not about the number of likes on facebook and instagram or the favourites on twitter. All that comes later, after you tweet your picture of the panorama, but that has nothing to do with the flush you got from achieving something yourself, even though there wasn't anyone there to "comment" on what you've done.

And you live through the bouts of loneliness. I'm not gonna pretend traveling alone doesn't get lonely sometimes. It's only natural, and if you don't feel even the slightest bit lonely I'm sorry but you're weird.. But it's just one of the many problems you'll face on the road alone. So don't be put off by that. I'm willing to bet that most of the time you'll find yourself so caught up with wherever you are or the people that you meet that you won't even realize you're not feeling lonely. You won't know till you try, so take a leap. 

Travel alone, or with friends. There’s no such thing as a “better” mode of travel. Life’s too short to spend it all cooped up on a tiny island, and there’s just so much on offer out there. It’s not hard at all. Go online and book a flight. Let what you’ve just done sink in. Welcome to the world.

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Was trying so hard not to sound pretentious, or prescriptive, or smug, or so many other things. Geez it's hard to write for an audience you don't know. And first time writing with anything remotely like an editor and expectations too, it was pretty fun even if slightly poorly done. I keep reading and re-reading it and feeling like it lacks a certain something, No clear direction, no real purpose in mind, reads like a rambling narrative without much real substance, which is why I decided to import that last bit from my blog cause at least that was heartfelt. It did make the entire piece disjointed though, and I was way too lazy to re-do the whole thing. Welp. I hope it's at least half-decent and acceptable, although I do feel kinda bad cause I feel like I could have done so much better. Oh well spilt milk and other beverages. Cy'all.

On Leadership.

This is not actually going to be a definitive post on leadership, something that I've had to come to terms with regularly, something that supposedly I've been trained in professionally, but something I'm still hazy and unsure about. Which might be a good thing, actually, cause at least it means I'm thinking about it? What I'm saying is despite the title this post isn't actually going to be very useful. Well, what did you expect from me?!

I just was at a church meeting the other day where I learned a lot about leadership. It's something that's been on my mind quite a lot lately too, so that was timely. It might be prudent here to say that my views are my own and represent no organization etc and is not intended to serve as anything but a reminder for me. I'm likely to just ramble on and type whatever comes into my head, so I don't want anyone to equate anything here with any of the institutions I belong to.

I came to the surprising conclusion recently that I am a professional leader. I've been trained as one for a number of years now, and I have been one for the last few years too. I assure you this is no ego-trip.. But that is pretty much my job description, no? To lead men. There is that distinction between managers/commanders/leaders too, but I won't get into that here.

The context of these thoughts was the realization that I needed to step up, level up, do more. I know, probably, more than anyone else what I'm capable of doing, how capable I am of not doing, and the massive disparity between the two. I've been willing to let myself go, in the process affecting many others as well, without understanding the consequences of my actions. Or inaction in this case.

As an Asian community we're still really young, and nobody, I think, knows really what to do with it, or where we're going. I'm not trying to say I know the answers, or I'm the best person to answer those questions, but the problem so far has been that I've been happy not to know. I've been happy to let things slide, not take responsibility for anything, not speak up when I see things going perhaps not as well as they should.

The questions I had to ask myself over the holidays really were: What's going wrong? Am I a part of what's wrong? Is there anything I can do to make things right, or at least better? How can I contribute? What do I bring to the table? Many of these questions were mixed into bigger ones of self-worth and growth, figuring out my journey etc, which I might or might not talk about sometime soon.

And I found out that I had answers to those questions, and I couldn't be satisfied with them. I can do so much more than I have done so far, it's always been a matter of how willing I've been, which up till recently, has quite frankly been not willing at all. If I can contribute in whatever small way, then I should. It might not be anything lasting or permanent, but it will be something.

I don't want to look back at my three years here and regret the way I spent my time. Regret the things that for whatever trivial reason, held me back from achieving the things that I believe I can achieve. I've been called here for a purpose, and even if this might not be it, I think it will at least go some way towards helping me figure it out. I have said that I am quite satisfied already with what I've done in my time here, that I can go back now and be happy about the way these few years have went, but that's not stopping me from doing more, and it shouldn't.

There has, to be perfectly honest (without trying to sound overly dramatic), a crisis of leadership that has caused so many of the problems we've been facing. And this isn't finger-pointing, because it starts from self-leadership, which I feel like we've all failed, individually. No one, it seems, was willing to take responsibility for how things were going, and that's a collective thing. As a team, a unit, then, we failed. I could see where things were going and I did nothing to correct that. Each of us probably did. But this awareness, I think, has finally spurred me to action. Maybe being older, it being my final year and all, makes it that much more important to me. But I can't help but feel at fault here, especially given my training, how often I've been told being a leader means you have to speak up when you feel like something's wrong, actual formal modules on Leadership etc.

Having said that, I do recognize that blame/guilt isn't very useful here, so don't worry this isn't about that at all, more like a note to myself on a lesson learnt here. It's a painful one to learn, to emerge after a bout of introspection and realize how lacking you've been, but it's not as bad as it could have been either, so thank God for that. I have had feelings of inadequacy and moments of self-doubt, but I think I have to trust that what God has started, He will finish too. Too often, I think, I allow my own self-doubt to drown out what God has in store for me. But I'm living and I'm learning.

So what did I learn on Monday? I learnt about the importance of strong leadership. I learnt it is important not to let emotions carry you, that good leadership has to go beyond emotions. While good leadership often works on an emotional level too, it has to work beyond that to really speak to people. I learnt that it has nothing to do with being celebrated or recognized, that sacrifices aren't really that if you're looking for something in return. I learnt that strength goes beyond the visible, the obvious, it isn't flashy, and it isn't self-serving. Strength is worthless if it is selfish, it is worth nothing if it is not used for others.

Hmm I think I shall end here actually. Not that I don't have anymore thoughts but it's kinda all over the place now, and I feel like I've said enough (to myself) now. And I've got a metric ton of photos left to upload before going for a weekend away so I better get it on like donkey kong. This was just a break in a rather productive day actually! Thinking of cookies next yey.

And All The Forces Of Darkness Raged Against Us.

Well now, I didn't quite expect my last post of the year to be that one regarding the Little India Riots. I feel like I've said and worked out all I've needed to on that topic now. Also, it is weird how the furore has passed us by so quickly, suddenly it was Christmas and then New Year and now it's all presumably gonna be about broken resolutions. Can't trust social media to be anything but fickle I guess. For some reason my post was featured in an aggregation of posts which mentioned the riots, which is reaaaaally weird considering the last thing I want is for more people to actually read this blog. I guess that one post was fine, since there wasn't anything really personal in it and I do hope it actually had some sort of value to the hundreds of people who read it, or at least added to the discussion. And I'm not gonna lie, I was even thinking of putting it on facebook too. In order to garner some likes, I can only assume. Whose ego doesn't need to be stoked by people thinking you're level-headed and all?

But then there's cool-that-you're-interested and then there's trying-too-hard-to-be-seen-as-aware. Completely ridiculous ways of categorizing people, of course, but I'm not immune to "social pressures" (even those that exist only in my mind). Unfortunately we are all social creatures. Or rather, that's a good thing cause it means that we too can influence society if only we cared enough to. I didn't actually post it on facebook ultimately cause I had to question my own motives for doing that - whether it was actually to facilitate more moderate thinking in my circle of friends or merely for more likes after the success of that initial post. Not that I didn't want the former, but there was too much of the latter for me to be comfortable with myself.

Anyhow, that's totally not the point of this post here. Neither is it going to hold forth on the lessons of 2013 and my hopes for 2014, or at least it shouldn't be. The only reason I'm even typing here at all is cause I refuse to begin on my essays due on Tuesday. Ah well.

What I really had in mind was how much I enjoy seeing pictures of other people travelling. I don't want to make myself out to be some sort of travel guru (that's one of my other pet peeves) but it's one of the greatest things I've ever done, and am hopefully still going to continue doing, in my life. So when I see other people travel, I wonder if they enjoy it a fraction of how much I do, learn a handful of the lessons that I have - about myself and about others - and I feel happy for them.

It's weird cause there's also always this jealous competitive spirit inside that makes me think: Damn I wish I've been there. Or worse: I wish I'd been there first. It's probably the same thing that gives me this sense of proprietorship over the places that I've been to, the little gems especially, like Cinque Terre, or Kinderdijk, the kind of places that make you feel special. I guess it's the hipsterhood of the traveling pants. (I went there before you even heard of it, bitch.) It's silly, and I've been learning to disregard this sense of envy, or to put it to good use and actually start formulating plans to travel even more. And to feel happy for the people on my facebook who travel, and hope that it made them feel special too.

So what exactly is it about traveling that is so infatuating? I guess every traveler has his or her own stories or reasons why. As an aside I wanna just state that I have issues with people who describe themselves as backpackers, fervently so, and pines all day (and all over facebook) for their next trip. It seems a bit self-aggrandizing to me. But that's just me. Traveler's a good enough word, I'm not trying to impress anyone with my ruggedness cause I'm a backpacker. Not saying the usage of the word is bad, just some of the people on fb who cause me intense private rage.

I met a Malaysian girl who's traveled incredibly extensively (a source too of intense envy - also an inspiration) and we started talking about why exactly we loved traveling alone. There are countless reasons, administrative ones etc, but the biggest one we both hit upon was the freedom. Almost absolute freedom, at that. The only real things constraining you being time and space. And money, of course.

Freedom from the concerns of your everyday life back home. Freedom from expectations (I'll come back to this, this is huge.) Freedom from ambition (both your own and those of others who'd seek to use you, politics, backstabbing etc.) Freedom to think. To act, to do whatever it is you want to do at any point in time.

This freedom to think and act comes largely, I think, from the freedom from expectations. In a way that most of us probably never think about, in our daily lives so many of our words and deeds are restricted by what we think people expect of us. We take considerable care in wondering whether or not we should be saying or doing something. This doesn't even have to be a conscience thing, about right or wrong, more about "is this in line with my character"? I'm not sure how to get this point across in a better way. How often do we not do something we actually really want to do because of what we believe will be negative perceptions after the fact?

And it's completely artificial, isn't it? We do or we don't do something based on what we think other people will think of us. Because of our "personality" or "character"? Surely that's the very definition of acting out of character - doing something not because of yourself but because of the perception of others. Sorry if this is getting wordy but I feel as if this is massive, especially for young people just emerging from adolescence, figuring out what they want of this world, of this life, struggling to form and find their own identities amidst a modern world too crowded with trends and arbitrary notions of cool and hip and whatever.

We grow up in tough times. I don't mean to be facetious, because it is obvious that we've never had it so good, we've got ample food clothes opportunities etc, and I don't mean it from that point of view. I mean it from the growing up and developing a sense of self point of view. Even then I guess we've not been forced to grow up the way the previous generations probably have, nor have we been pigeonholed into certain stereotypes e.g. the good stay-at-home wife without voting rights, the manly breadwinner etc, and we've never been freer to be who we want to be. But it's precisely this freedom that paralyzes so many of us. We are actually spoilt for choice, and that's tough, in a completely different way.

And not to be obvious and waggle my finger like so many have at the media, but it has an undeniable effect on us. The proliferation of TV shows, movies, social media, trendy lists telling you what's desirable and what's not, all these things take root in our minds whether we are aware of it or not. I think one of the by-products has been the lack of a role-model archetype, some character or another who is almost universally looked up to. For guys, should we aspire to be the Barney Stinson type charmer, the goofy/nerdy Michael Cera, the old but gold strong and silent... well this is rich, I can't even name any such example off the top of my head. I'm just gonna say Bond here sigh, the only result my brain turned up after 3 minutes of wracking my brains. Or the SNAG-type fellow? Or something else?

As an expert movie and TV show watcher, ardent reader of books and unfortunately, unwilling follower of most social media trends, I'd say I'm pretty well qualified on this topic here, so I know what I'm talking about. I'd also probably say that most people fall into this category too, actually, but whatever. Who exactly should I be aspiring to be? I think that's an increasingly difficult question to answer. Take my job, for example. At times I feel like I should be aspire to be that super-intimidating hard-ass don't-mess-with-me type of commander in the future. Surely respect like that can't go wrong! Then on other days I think, I'm gonna be the kind of leader who actually understands his men, who's approachable and can build rapport easily. Do you see what I mean? There aren't any concrete answers when we're talking officership, let alone life.

And girls probably have it worse. I just stumbled across the bikini-bridge-hoax story (I never even knew this existed, I'm not as enmeshed in social media as I thought yippee) and how rich is that? You can create two opposite movements and you're going to get die-hard supporters on each side, especially on a subject as divisive as women's sexuality. I guess it's politically correct now to appear to embrace women of all sizes, but I'm pretty sure most women out there still aspire to some form of weight loss or another. Not size-zero, that's disgusting! I'm sure they'll say, but I think in most of their minds the ideal person they see themselves as is a slimmer version of themselves. I know I'm grossly exaggerating here, and I'm not in any way trying to put down any group of people, much less womenkind, but there is a problem here I think, and one that's not going away any time soon. It's not easy being a girl, I'm pretty sure of that (as much as I can say that without any prior experience, of course.)

I mean yes, men have pressures to be fit and muscular etc, but we have other avenues like wealth and power that women unfortunately don't have. It's actually weird how much more gender-conscious I find myself lately, considering it's not something I ever consciously thought about one and a half years ago. And now I'm all normative and perfomativity and wary of patriarchy.. I blame Judith Butler. Bitch. JOKE.

Okay so I've gone completely off the rails with regards to the benefits of traveling. Surely you've come to expect that by now, though, so suck it.

When you travel alone you get to reinvent yourself as many times as you want. Everytime I arrive at someplace new, I know that nobody knows me. Nobody has any preconceived notions (apart from general ones based on race, gender, age, etc you get my point) of who I am or what I'm supposed to do, what I'm supposed to be like. Sometimes it makes me feel as if it's incredibly stifling to be around the people you know and love, as incredible as that may sound. That being said however, I don't think anything beats the familiar comforts and warmth of home - and that includes friendship, a form of artificial home-ness. What I mean is it was super fun to meet kinonn and shiyu in Sheffield after 3 weeks of traveling alone. YAN CAN COOK, SO CAN YU! And returning to Exeter only to be surprised by a birthday present from my Hoopern crew.

But I look at the people traveling in a group and I think, gee, that must get tiring sometimes huh! You have to accommodate the wishes of everyone in the group, you have to set wake up times, itineraries, plan ahead for trains and buses etc. I guess you won't know the freedom of traveling alone until you actually have experience it for yourself, and I'm not trying to say it's a superior form of travel, I think it's a matter of preference, but I think it's undoubtedly more free.

So I go somewhere new, and I can be whoever I want to be. Maybe I'm feeling more chatty, so I'll be the talkative type, the funny one, the entertainer. Feeling tired today, so I'm gonna be the guy on the fringe, I'll just take my pictures and not strike up a conversation with anyone else. I know everyone who travels on their own will say how important it is to make friends etc, but even then there's no pressure to. I can go a day, a week without talking to too many people if I choose to. And no one is going to ask me: Are you feeling okay? What's wrong? Did something happen?

Do you see what I mean? I am at liberty to be whoever I want, feel whatever I want to feel, and don't have to worry about well-meaning-but-sometimes-irritating questions, about keeping up a false front so that I won't affect my friends' trip, about being consistent about being myself. Funny thing, that. There's never so much pressure to be yourself (whatever that means!) as when you're with your friends and the people you know, which functions only to hinder such self-expression. I'm not sure if you understand, I'd never wondered about such things until the trip I just came back from a week ago, or have never been able to articulate what exactly I'd been feeling on the road, so I can't even tell if this is something which other people feel or not.

In any case, the weird thing I discovered on this trip is a sort of consistency, I guess. I had the freedom to be whoever I chose to be on any particular day, with any new group of people I met, so I'm actually quite surprised, looking back, on how consistent I was with who I was. Is this what people mean when they say they found themselves while traveling, they discovered themselves, etc? I can't say that it is exactly, but I think it's a part of it. Those are some of the reasons I travel, and probably most people who consider themselves travelers do too (ah that glorious gap between the traveler and the tourist). And in a small (possibly even big, who can ever tell?) way I feel as if I've managed to figure myself out just that little weensy bit.

Freedom is a daunting prospect sometimes, but I think most of us would be surprised by how we reacted to it. I certainly was. I could easily have done crazy things in all my travels, things that are "not me" but I haven't. The process of elimination means that while I might not actually know conclusively who I am, I know who I am not. I know I'm not a certain type or certain types of people, and not for a lack of opportunity too. Things like weed or other drugs, sex, stuff like that. I'm not gonna lie, the backpacking/traveling circuit is not really the hardest place to obtain any of those things. It's downright easy. Just this last trip alone I was offered (subtly) sex and (outrightly) a joint, among other.. more ambiguous situations I guess. I can't say I've never wondered how I'd really react to such situations, because you never quite know for sure do you?

The flipside to this coin is that other people are free to be whoever they want, do whatever they want to. My cynical self says that means you'll meet assholes everywhere you go, or people who aren't, acting in an asshole-like fashion just because they can. But you don't, not really. Sure, there are gonna be an isolated few here or there. Americans I'm looking at you. Sorry for stereotyping but my experiences so far have borne that out. Americans are a funny bunch, I've found them to be very hit or miss. Some of them are incredibly fun to be around, and those Americans are really cool. But some of them are seriously, incredibly obnoxious. There really isn't any other way to put it. Well anyway as I was saying, it's surprising how nice people are.

I guess some of it comes down to the kind of people who actually want to travel in the first place, who're willing to slum about in hostels and dorms with other smelly backpackers, which is almost (but not quite) exclusive of the kind of people who are obnoxious entitled snobs. In any case, you get the sense that people are generally nice. Random locals you meet, fellow travelers, hostel staff etc. You meet people who seem like they genuinely want to help you, to talk to you, there's no hidden agendas or anything, no politicking or ladder-climbing going on. People whom you're conversing with and engaging with purely out of interest and because you enjoy it. Whom you're probably never going to ever see again, of course, but still you want to find out more about their lives and share bits of yours.

Where else do you get that kind of no-strings-attached connections? Friendships driven by nothing but shared interests/passions (most likely about traveling). No real considerations for perceptions, or what he/she is going to tell their friends, who knows my friend. I think that's one of the reasons I had to study somewhere other than Singapore. The ridiculous pressure of a uni education there notwithstanding, it's just waaaaaay too small. What, 2, maximum 3 degrees of separation? I'm not so sure I want my friends to find out from their friends what I've been doing or vice versa or etc. It's claustrophobic. And no where else but on the road, on your own, do you achieve that maximum of degrees, tucked away in some mountain village in Slovakia, or lost in the teeming crowds of tourists in Prague.

Until you meet the groups of Singaporeans, of course. Another pet peeve right here, the Singaporean groupies, but it's a love-hate kinda thing. You kinda don't wanna talk to them but you somehow feel obliged to too, and it is quite a comfortable thing too. You can start talking about which uni they're in, what course, what JC yada-yada. It's... lazy, I guess. You have a whole battery of topics you can fall back on without letting any actual conversation get in the way. It's like meeting people on easy-mode. I guess that's why even though sometimes I tell myself not to talk to yet another group of Singaporeans, I do. Cause traveling alone does get tiring sometimes. Having to meet new people constantly is draining. Having to start from ground zero, extending little feelers to find out what you and this stranger might possibly have in common again and again, sometimes it wears you out.

I'm not saying it's not fun, cause it is, and it is hugely rewarding too. You feel as if you're not actually socially retarded after all, since you were able to have conversations with complete strangers from totally different backgrounds. But there is a certain amount of downtime too. It is tiring. It is even boring sometimes. You do get lonely. You get lost and confused and there isn't anyone you know there to help you or comfort you. You choke up at the sight of something so beautiful and profound and there's no one to share it with. You finally make it to the top of the hill to take in the sight of the city below you but there's no one to celebrate with. You sit by the sea with a million thoughts running through your mind and there's no one to talk to.

But you do it anyway. You figure out yourself, you solve your problems, you internalize the beauty of the world because you don't have a choice, you didn't have anyone to blabber to. You learn to think without talking. You get used to you. You achieve things yourself without needing anyone to congratulate you. You start doing things for yourself and not for the adulation of others. I mean sure, you can boast about it when you get back but there's this feeling when you do something significant and realize that right at that moment, no one cares. No one knows to care. You finally arrive at the viewpoint which promises an incredible panorama, and it's taken you 2 hours to climb, and it was tough-going, but no one actually cares. No one even knows you're there, what you've done. No one but you. And maybe, just maybe, you start to realize that your self-worth does not, should not, cannot, be based on what the world says about you. It's not about the number of likes on facebook and instagram or the favourites on twitter. All that comes later, after you tweet your picture of the panorama, but that has nothing to do with the flush you got from achieving something yourself, even though there wasn't anyone there to "comment" on what you've done.

You deal with the fatigue. You conquer the boredom. You handle all these things yourself, in your own way. I talk to myself. Alot. I even have to remind myself not to do so once I find myself in a city, or around people again. But it's one of the ways I cope with whatever life throws at me on the road. When I almost miss a train I start admonishing myself for being so sloppy, I shake my head at my stupidity. When I inadvertently catch a whiff of my socks I exclaim to myself in disgust. You know, little things. And then I laugh at myself for talking to myself. When I find myself with free time before or after meals, at restaurants or cafes, I begin to write in my journal if I'm bored. While waiting for food etc. It can be really mundane stuff, merely descriptive, but it's still productive nonetheless.

And you live through the bouts of loneliness. I like to say that I'm alone, not lonely, when I travel, and for the most part that is true. There's usually so much going or too many things I'm interested in for me to feel lonely. But there is that certain downtime which is impossible to avoid. I was climbing a hill across the river from the historical center of Prague, trying to reach the Czech "Eiffel Tower" when all of a sudden I was struck by this crippling sense of loneliness. It really was crippling, in that I actually stopped in my tracks in order to get a grip on it. I finally arrived at an incredible vantage point and had to sit on the kindly provided benches there to wonder at the magnitude of that sensation. I didn't even want to take pictures of the city, which as any traveler with a camera will tell you is a ridiculous notion. We live for those pictures, really. But I had to just sit there and take it in, and it left me in a funk all night.

It came out of nowhere. I wasn't thinking any particularly deep thoughts that day, I don't think, so I was quite startled by it. For it was staggering, and it took me unawares. The strangely warm night, the bright lights, a beautiful city stretched out before me.. And falling in love with a girl on a train.

Hah, this is story time. Not too much meat to it, though, so don't be expecting too much haha. Basically I was on the train from Budapest to Prague, and in the first-class cabin for reasons unbeknownst to me. I think I was scammed by the ticket guy telling me that it was the cheapest option, but anyhow. (It was worth it in the end I think!) And the attendant serving food and drinks (no my first class ticket unfortunately didn't entitle me to anything other than a cup of tea. No refill.) was basically Chloe Grace Moretz in disguise. And it wasn't even a good disguise. Even now I half believe that was her in preparation for another role, if not actually filming there and then. Seriously. I just googled Chloe Grace Moretz and I think my theory seems more likely now than it did when I was in that daze on the train.

Anyhow, no good story lacks a bad guy, so along came a man I shall refer to as Villain. He was shit-faced with drink, a seedy guy all round. I think the lady with him was his girlfriend, but I'm not sure, cause halfway through the train ride he went up to this other, and I'm not making this up, but also beautiful lady and started chatting her up. Not sure how it went but he seemed pretty pushy and the beautiful lady seemed grossed out. After a while Villain shrugged his shoulders and went back to his girlfriend(?) I'm gonna refer to her as Villain-Enabler from now on, cause I'm still unsure as to their relationship with each other. Everytime Chloe walked through the aisle to serve drinks and stuff Villain would stop her, I think to demand for food or drinks or something. This story would be a lot better if I actually spoke any Hungarian or Czech, but I'm afraid I don't..

He was being hugely annoying, but Chloe was really nice about it, and she somehow managed to maintain her smile throughout. It was Grace under pressure. (I wrote that in my journal on the train and didn't realize that was a super pun on her name until now I swear.) And what a smile.. I was actually quite prepared to step in if he started to get physical, because he was being a total dick and insistent, although thankfully it never came down to that. But somehow she managed to keep her cool and handle him with incredible professionalism. It was an absolute lesson on professionalism and grace under pressure, well worth the 15 euros or so extra I probably paid for my 1st class ticket.

I was smitten. Because.. what a smile! So I actually tore out a page from my journal and wrote her a letter professing my admiration for her which I handed to her upon alighting at Prague. In the most non-creepy way imaginable, I assure you. In fact, the very first line of my letter was "Don't worry this isn't a creepy love letter or anything." which I'm sure did much to allay her fears... Well now. I didn't actually refer to her appearance or anything (or her smile) in the letter until the post-script where I mentioned that she looked just like the actress Chloe Grace Moretz and that she looked cute in her hat. Err. The body of the letter however, contained only my being impressed by her professionalism and amazement that she managed to keep her cool and stay calm in the face of an absolute dickhead. I didn't even write my name or anything, I signed off with my seat number, so that she'd know I didn't mean anything funny at all.

First anonymous fan-mail-love-letter ever. Actually, it might even be the first ever anonymous thing I've ever written outside of those damned evaluation sheet/survey forms. And it felt strangely good! How often do you compliment someone without expecting anything in return? A return compliment, a raising of your profile, being thought well of etc. Well actually, I gotta be honest and say that in my heart of hearts I do hope that was Chloe Grace Moretz and she was so pleasantly surprised someone recognized her in her crafty disguise and touched by the anonymous letter that one day I will stumble upon a movie about a beautiful train attendant, a Villain, a Villain-Enabler, and a certain Passenger 96. Played by Brad Pitt, of course. Actually, no. He's getting a bit old. Hmmmmmmmm. I can't actually think of any über-good-looking actor under the age of 35. Oh I know, Ryan Gosling. Yep that'd do. Is he under 35? I don't even know.. God are there really that few young, credible, good looking actors out there? Or am I so much worse at Hollywood trivia than I've always thought....

Well so that's the story. I didn't sneakily hang around the train station thereafter hoping to catch another glimpse of her. No really, I didn't.. So I guess in part that explains the crippling loneliness on the hills of Prague. A confluence of events really, just because I really like the word confluence. Okay what I'm really trying to say ultimately is that I'm not gonna pretend traveling alone doesn't get lonely sometimes. It's only natural, and if you don't feel even the slightest bit lonely I'm sorry but you're weird. But it's just one of the many problems you'll face on the road alone. So don't be put off by that. I'm willing to bet that most of the time you'll find yourself so caught up with wherever you are or the people that you meet that you won't even realize you're not feeling lonely. You won't know till you try, so take a leap.

I'm just gonna end here even though I've got loads more to talk about, 2013/4, my trip, my journal entries etc, you know the drill everytime I return from one of my epic trips. But 2 essays of 3000 words each beckon, so zbohom my friends! That's Slovakian for goodbye, because Slovakia surprisingly was my favourite country, followed extremely closely by Poland and Latvia I think.. Zbohom.

In The Cold Light Of Day.

As devastating as it is to witness the riot unfold back home, it is even more upsetting to see the many speculative and often inflammatory posts/comments that have sprung up in its wake. Whether they involve derogatory remarks about the SPF or the "foreign imports" (probably one of the least of the many offensive terms out there).

It's hard to stomach Singaporeans' extreme (or at least extremely visible) xenophobia a mere 3/4 generations after our own forebears first arrived on these shores. It's sad that Singaporeans are so eager for a gahmen cock-up that they are willing to start pointing fingers at the national agencies taking the brunt of the events tonight, much (if not all) of it without any rational thought behind it at all.

Nothing but an aimless rage directed at whoever's "responsible" for all the problems Singapore faces today (the PAP, the government, the foreigners, take your pick there's more than enough targets these days).

And we're supposed to be the educated generation?

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I posted this a couple of minutes ago on facebook. Why did I do that? Possibly I was hoping to in some way affect some readers' mindsets, to restore a little sensibility and rationality to the roaring Internet today. But what was it actually? A little distance tells me that it was a knee-jerk reaction to the knee-jerk reactions of others. It was an angry retort to the angry people crowding my newsfeed. And this was done a couple of hours after the actual event.

I have to ask myself, had I been in Singapore, reacting to live updates, what would my reaction have been? Had I been sitting in a coffeeshop, in the midst of an anger slowly building up, would I have been a rational voice prescribing neutrality? I had the benefit of distance, of hearing bits and pieces as it drifted across social media, to formulate my response to a hot mess like this.

It is painful to witness my country go through a period like this from afar. It is painful also to consider that had I been home at this time I could very well have been part of the inflammatory legions seeking to exploit this for some insane.... political means? I'm not even sure, whatever government-bashing/foreign-talent-hating achieves I guess.

I am actually heartbroken. Confused, saddened, angry, frustrated, disappointed, a whole lot of emotions, but the weirdest of that lot has to be the heartbreak. Why? I am heartbroken because the nation that I have chosen to pledge my life in defence of has just witnessed its first riot in years, one that will do irreparable damage to the psyche of a nation just under 50 years old.

I am heartbroken because the chorus of rational, calming voices I half expected did not materialize, or they were crowded out all too easily by waves upon wave of speculation and inflammatory remarks, anti-foreigner sentiments given yet another opportunity to be proclaimed from the rooftops. It is like taking a hard look at one's self and realizing how deficient one truly is. That's what looking at our generation feels like, a generation that was primed to take a nation, the world, forward. But we ended up as a generation of complainers, of entitled blame-ascribing narrow-minded xenophobes who can't look inwards and think that maybe all this hate and bitterness they hold against these "foreign-talents" is one of the reasons they can't integrate into society? That even if we are arguably not the actual problem, we are contributing to it in so many ways which are intangible and unquantifiable? A generation of Singaporeans so full of ourselves we refuse to see how we might actually be a part of the problem, instead of the anti-establishment freedom-fighter human-rights-crusaders we so often seem to think we are.

One of my friends posted something like "Not Singapore, please.." and what a plaintive cry that is. One that I wholeheartedly agree with. But surely we knew the peace would not last? That no group of people, citizen or otherwise, is immune from the raging torrents of the mob mindset, that all it takes is an event capable of triggering it? Full-blooded citizens or not. Having served NS or not. Having had sons serve NS or not. That 50 years is in itself a remarkable achievement, but what do we do when something like this occurs? Point fingers at the government for a response not robust enough, not ready enough, for something it's not had to deal with in 50 years. I'm not defending wholesale what happened, complacency or whatever, but perhaps we have to consider the fact that we enjoyed stability for long enough to experience such complacency. I feel like the idealistic image I had in my mind of Singapore is being eroded now. The peace and stability I pledged to protect no longer actually there. The Singapore I decided to defend no longer the Singapore I thought it was.

What does being Singaporean mean after today? I realize this is quite a melodramatic statement to make but I really think that yes, this riot involving a few hundred people changes things. I wouldn't normally compare but an article on my newsfeed popped up the #hijabuppropet movement in Sweden, where Swedish women of all faiths have taken to wearing the hijab in solidarity with the Islam women who have increasingly become victims of Islamophobic assaults. Cut back to Singapore and you see a people lambasting the government for its lack of response, "why 20 minutes still no one??" etc. It's hard to not compare. I guess a riot is incomparable in so many ways with that, or with a bombing like the one at the Boston Marathon this year, but it seems more and more as if Singaporeans' capacity for good is being outshone by their incredible capacity for small-mindedness and petty behavior. "If this keeps up no work tmr!" "Finally we see the FTs true colours." How do you believe in a nation of such people?

I guess the question I have to ask myself is not "Why then should I still defend Singapore?" as easy as it may be to reach such a conclusion, but this: How can I, in whatever small way I may be capable of, help to mold Singapore into a country worth defending? Into the country I had in mind when I signed on that dotted line?

Because in the cold light of day, when the dust has settled, a few statistics will emerge. A handful killed. More injured, some of them police/SCDF personnel. A number arrested. A couple charged. Few months/years in prison. Et cetera. The numbers game, hard facts. But it will not tell the story. Of how the few hours of this one fateful night served to further polarize a nation reeling from a recent deluge of anti-foreigner sentiments. To fuel more violent xenophobic tendencies (taken to its extreme, although I hope dearly this never happens.) To fracture a racial and societal harmony that on the outside always seemed as if it would hold up.

That will be the untold story of the Little India Riot. But it could also be about how the indifferent majority saw the riot and decided that to not act here, now, possibly one of the most dramatic events in Singapore, would be taking our apathy too far. That to be bystanders after witnessing firsthand - not in our social studies textbooks - something historic, would be too much. Yes, we're probably not going to end up in the textbooks as history makers, but if we can in whatever small ways help to shape our nation's consciousness in the coming weeks, then we will have played our part. Maybe we can even help the next generation to read about the riot in their textbooks with eyes not of bitterness and resentment, but as a turning point, an example of how a nation decided collectively to pick itself up and to move on.

It's up to us to make that difference.

I Sea Change Within.

How easy has it become, to some of us, to start thinking that “Yes Lord, I am willing to serve You” but are unwilling to actually grow in the Lord? Yes Lord, I am happy serving in church, I am happy to be part of the Asian team, I am happy to be called a leader, but to grow in You? Oh no, no, please. I’m perfectly happy where I am now; please don’t ask me to grow any more. Isn’t serving regularly enough? I’m taking time out week after week to pray, to attend meetings, to talk to Your people! Surely that’s enough God; please don’t ask me to grow. If You love me You won’t ask this of me!

How easy has it become for us to become so afraid of what God has in store for us? Because we are so comfortable with where we are, with our current level of “spirituality”, with our current “faithfulness”, because we feel like we have achieved what God requires of us, that we have fulfilled a certain requirement, a certain Christian-ness. What comes next? A little part of us asks. The other parts, however, try desperately to ignore that question, to tell ourselves that that is irrelevant, that we’ve done enough, it’s so tiring! And succeed at doing so. We don’t want to confront the fact that we’re not quite there yet, that God still wants us to grow, that He wants us to draw yet closer to Him.

I play DotA all the time. Do I think God wants me to play it all day? Probably not. But I also ask myself, why would He not want me to play, to do something which I enjoy? Of course God wants me to enjoy life! And so I conveniently sidestep that uncomfortable first question, and find I am able to live with myself for spending hours on quite frankly, a meaningless game, which serves no purpose other than to while my time away and to frustrate and anger me. Even the enjoyment I derive from it serves only to get me more hooked onto it. But DotA is an easy example. It’s quite difficult to argue that it something desirable. It does, however, get difficult once we get to something like studying.

It’s quite hard to argue against studying. You reap what you sow, etc. But I think we have to stop in our tracks once in a while and ask ourselves this: How much of how hard I’m studying is truly necessary, and how much of it is because I’d rather trust in my own hands (minds) than in God? Not because I don’t trust God, of course, but what if..? What if He doesn’t pull through this time? What if He doesn’t want me to score well? I’d understand if God does but my parents… well no. I can’t take this risk. Or maybe some secret part of us wants to be able to claim some glory when we do well, so outwardly we might say “Thank God for my results!” but deep down we’re actually thinking “Yup, knew I could do this. I am smart and I can study.” Our flesh is always self-serving; it’s always craving for some glory, to boast in its own works. We have to be able to inspect ourselves and see whether we are doing what we’re doing to satisfy ourselves, because we’re trusting in our own efforts, instead of actually trusting God.

It’s the most important things to us that we find the hardest to entrust God with. God, take over my life! Except this one thing, cause it’s so important to me... You understand don’t You God? Just in case God doesn’t pull through this one time… Let me hold on to it just in case, it’s like having some form of insurance. I think everyone does that. Is it possible to trust God 100%? I’m not sure, frankly. I can’t say that I ever have. But I think what happens is that if we trust God with only 30% of what’s important to us, then He only has that 30% to work with. Maybe this explains why it’s the things which we hold dearest to our hearts, the things that we care most about, that sometimes feel as if God doesn’t care about.

It’s so easy to say, Let God and Let God, but how many of us are truly willing to let go of the things we hold most dear? I was just reading the Bible the other day about the rich young ruler who came across Jesus. We’ve read that story so many times it’s easy to discount this guy and just think, Oh the trappings of riches! That it’s just a story about money and possessions, which of course, as Christians we should be released from anyway, so whatever. But what do we consider the riches in our lives? Our family, friends, health, looks, smarts, studies etc.? Are we willing to give up any of these? I’m not saying God is asking us to, but if we ask ourselves this question and we come up negative, then what does this say? It says that we’re letting these things take precedence over God. God doesn’t want us to be rid of all these things which are important to us, because He knows that they are, but we have to realize when we allow them to take pole positions in our lives instead of putting God first.

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I kinda had these reflections a number of days back, after a series of rather illuminating (if also slightly painful) conversations I had with some of the only people I find myself able to talk about such things about. Not that I started out with the theme of "How easy" but a retrospective look over my life as I've lived it so far quite clearly tells me this: that I've so often managed to convince myself to take the "easy" way out.

I've always gone for, maybe even made it a point to, self-reflection, introspection and all that jazz. And I can't say it's not worked, or that it's not been necessary. But bottling things up, occasionally letting fly in random blog posts perhaps, doesn't quite achieve the same things an actual conversation does. And I'm thankful for the people in my life who are willing to have those conversations with me. Dispensing advice to people is surprisingly cathartic, and many of the things you have chosen to suppress somehow get dealt with in some weird way as well.

Anyway it's well and truly December now, and it's come to my attention that I've got just about 6 months left of formal education? An insane thought if ever there was one. Maybe it's time for me to actually get educated, instead of bum about facebook etc. 4 essays beckon, but there ya go. Procrastination at its finest. There is this thing though, the past few weeks have witnessed kind of a sea change in me. At the risk of sounding uber-fanatic, what's been going on is me allowing more and more for God to be at the center of everything I do.

I'm more than aware of how far more I have yet to go, but I guess faith means that the large distance I can see doesn't matter, only my belief in my God, the belief that He wants me to change and that He will help me in effecting that change in my life. "All these things I have asked of you, but I will be with you also."

I suddenly have this thought that I've gotten almost all I've needed out of my overseas experience. I will not be too distraught at leaving for home in 6 months, I guess. Sure, I'll miss this place but I think the reasons for my being here have almost all been achieved now. Unless God has some incredible surprise left for me! Just last year I was hoping that I'd chosen a 4 year course instead, but facing the prospect of a return for good next year, I can say almost with certainty that probably the things I'd set out to achieve, to prove - to myself or to others I'm never quite sure which - I have managed to do. Whether I've done so successfully or not is quite another question, but what I'm trying poorly to say is that probably having one more year wouldn't make that much of a difference.

I'm looking forward to coming home. In fact, I'm almost ready to say that I'm ready to come home now. Maybe I'm not there yet, but I'm more ready than I ever was. To understand what home really means. To be embraced not just by the warmth of a better (not pulling any punches here sorry England) sun, but by the warmth of my family. As a better son.

Sonship is not a concept that I've ever felt a need to explore or examine very closely, and I'm not trying to glaze over any familial problems we've had over the years. I just have never felt that there was an issue there. Maybe in some ways it has affected my walk as a Christian, my relationship with my family? I'm not sure. Nor do I feel a blog post is the place for me to talk about it even if there was, there is this perverse sense of.. voyeurism maybe? attached to the very act of blogging, a very public act of sharing psuedo-private things, but more on this another time perhaps.

But I do feel like I am slowly but surely arriving at a better understanding of what sonship truly means. And do I hope that it will help me in my relationship with my parents? You bet. I know I came to the UK for a reason, that it wasn't just an idle dream that somehow managed to get fulfilled. There's something more behind it. And if it results in a better relationship with my family then I thank God for that. And a better relationship with my Father too. I'm currently reading a book called The Return of the Prodigal Son, loaned to me by a precious friend, and who knows, maybe when I'm done with it I'm gonna be even more crazily next-level with my sonship haha.

I realize this, and probably a few of my last posts might seem like quite a marked change in direction from before i.e. a reticence on matters of faith and God. (A sea change, if you will, but I cringe at the thought of using a good phrase twice in one post, if ever.) But what else is a blog for if not to document such changes in a person's life? I mean, just perusing my first few ever blog posts.. I can think of no greater shame.... It's not meant to be some populist platform with which I intend to launch some charm offensive, although I'm aware also that at times that's exactly what I tried to do sometimes. Who can say they're immune to the pressures of perception? But I treat this as my electronic diary, almost, although not nearly as private or close to my heart as an actual written (i.e. no one else should read or can decipher) diary. My most private musings, the really raw stuff, the most bitter of resentments, disappointments, the most ecstatic of hopes, dreams, those things I'd scarcely project to my admittedly limited audience. But I guess it's a way also for my friends, for people who actually care, to track my growth as well. Cause I don't often find myself in the business of sharing all that much, so maybe this is the only way my friends can find out how I'm actually doing, just about as honest as I'm ever going to be. Maybe. Some of my posts I actually specifically tailor to address/impress a particular person. Shameful display.. But I am what I am. Warts and all.

On the subject of "I am what I am" actually, I did have a couple of thoughts a couple weeks ago, after bel's visit, about the danger in such thinking, and it's about..

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The danger of modern science, explanations, and "Why so and so.." Psychology, biology, genetics, astrology. Nature or Nurture, what defines us? That's the wrong question to ask, really, cause it is God who defines us.

We seek to feel "better" about ourselves by subscribing to all these "comprehensive" theories which try to explain us, and in so doing, pigeonhole ourselves into these labels. Daddy issues. Childhood trauma. Second-child syndrome. Leo personality. Introvert. INFP. I'm not saying these things don't exist, or are wrong. But it absolves us of the need to change what we know to be wrong about ourselves, by giving us a cop-out, saying, I was born this way. Or, I was raised this way. Whichever side of that fence you sit on.

But that's a stupid fence. It is a fence that serves only to get in the way. So often we can't see past this stupid fence, and we keep returning to it, and we get stuck. But we can sidestep it by turning to God. He is the One who defines us, however Nature or Nurture decided to mold us. He created us, not these false gods. If we focus on Nature vs Nurture, we become entrenched on explanations for why we are, when God is trying to tell us who we are.
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I probably can go on more but I'm actually supposed to start on my essay anytime now. This is rich pickings, though, so much more about pseudo-psychology, the comfort in things like astrology, the feel-good tactics in so many of these.. hoaxes I want to say. False glimmers, helping to cover up the truths so many people are unwilling to confront. "Yep, musta failed that interview cause this week isn't a Libra's week!" Come on, get off of it now. As I said, rich pickings, and a topic that makes me quite angry if I ever stop to actually think about it.

Oka doka then, see ya'll.