Happy New Year

Dear God,
I want to start 2010 with a prayer of thanks.
Thank you for all your blessings
- my happy family, my stable job, my growing 'special kids', my supportive friends
- good health and peace of heart, mind and soul.

I ask for Your forgiveness for all my transgressions...
- for my moments of folly and doubt
- for my carelessness and pride.

I ask for Your guidance
and fill my heart with Nur & Hikmah
so that all I do will be to seek You.

Help me be strong and steadfast
and that my worldy deeds will lead me to You.

Ameen...ameen...ameen.
Ya Rabbal a lameen.

Chek Jawa Adventures

I did promise that I would continue about Chek Jawa...

It was a day about discoveries,and re-discoveries.
I have already described the fun ride in the rain.  I think God had meant to let me enjoy that experience.  I mean, had it been hot that morning, perhaps I would have been toiling away uncomfortably as I pedalled along the road.

First exciting find was the rubber tree near the bicycle post.  We could not cycle around Chek Jawa itself...you need to hike and trek on foot.  We were concerned about the safety of the bikes, but the bicycle owner had assured us that it was not likely that the bicycles would be stolen.  Anyway, back to the rubber tree...complete with its carefully carved bark and a cup to collect the latex.

It was wonderful to have people to were eager to actually look at the plants and animals up close.  The rain had sent quite a number of creatures into hiding in shelters, but the cries were heard were authentic.  Even birds trilled the sounds of freedom.  Erico was trying to peer into airholes in the mud and sand in search of crabs and other forms of life...but there were only the baby mudskippers enjoying themselves,

Having Faz around was a blessing.  Having grown up in a kampung by the sea, she recognised most of the flora and fauna...and named them for us, including trivia like which are edible.  I was so tempted by the buah nibong (or attap chee) which were found in gorgeous red bunches. 

The highlight(!) was the spectacular watch tower...a wooden structure about 5 storeys high.  Now you know me and my problem with wooden planks...but add to my fear of heights...you get the picture.  Nothing ventured, nothing gained they say...But guess what happened when you have 2 old ladies who are equally frightened but gung-ho at the same time?

I think it was a good thing we were the only group who had braved the rain...cos the silence covering Chek Jawa area was suddenly punctured by hysterical laughter .  Poor Hafiz could not understand why his usually composed mum and her friend burst out in uncontrollable laughter as they slowly made their way up...the giggles mixed with incantations to God to help protect us.  That was how we conquered our fears...releasing stress hee-hee-haha-ing our way to the top.

Once up there, the view was breathtaking...I was winded by the effort and too much laughing...and fear can be paralysing...so I simply sat down, shaking each time the kids moved around.  But Faz and I did it...we made it to the top...But oppps...if you are up, you need to go down again...which was an even scarier experience.  We closed our eyes, and walked sideways like crabs...and praying like mad again.  Yea!

Poor Erico.
He so badly wanted to see part of the coralled areas.  But by then, the tide had come in, and the low sea bed was already covered with water.  I fell in love with the sea moss which the tides brought it.  It made certain areas look as if they are carpeted with lush green carpet.

By then, the rain stopped.
There was a light breeze and we walked along the broadwalk.
I wanted to just take in the sights...of the open sea in front, and the beautiful vegetation behind.
Everything looked so unspoilt...and life, seemed to go at a leisurely pace.

I do not think I could do justice by these descriptions of Chek Jawa.
I hope more people would go to the place, and check out one of the last natural places of beauty Singapore has to offer.
And of course, you must go with others who are willing to share that experience with you.
It was not just the place, but the company, that made the trip memorable.
It is truly something I will never forget.

So,if I get to go to Chek Jawa again,
would anyone like to follow?

What does it mean?

This one was more vivid than ever.

A lonely figure sat by the side of a pool of water.
A group of people came running along.
The leader stopped near that person and their eyes met for a while.
One pair questioning, the other mirroring a myriad of unspoken emotions.

But the last person stumbled suddenly.
One by one, they fell like dominos...
And the leader, in horror, hit the figure who fell into the water.
I saw ripples....
I saw a raised hand.
I saw a self...who was too tired to even struggle to survive.

While others watched in helpless horror,
I woke up with tears in my eyes.

I know you....but who are you?
I am sorry.

What do they mean?

Again, these past nights have been less than restful.
Maybe I tend to overeat dinner these days.
But when the mind is not quite settled, perhaps it can play tricks.

I see faces...some very familiar ones very distinctly.
They speak, but I hear no words.
I ask questions, yet get no replies.
Each time, the expressions do not reveal much either
...like people playing poker; not wanting to show the cards in their hands.

Blue...I see you with that....
The number I see is 6...
Each time,the clock chimes at that hour.
I look up and see a hand reaching out.

I cannot decipher what the symbols mean.
DearGod,
Do not lead me astray but what I see.
Ameen

Time is Short

There are plenty of cliches out there about time, and how precious time is.
Yesterday, when I was sms-ing Sky , I had somehow mentioned to him that this holidays, I tried to do as many things as I had wanted to.  When I texted that 'time is limited', he got rather concerned.

But you know what I mean.
Time is not something that we are able to control.
On an even bigger idea, we know that we are all living on borrowed time - that our hourglasses turned the moment we are born, and that steadily, the sands of time will slip down without us really realising it.

So it is back to choices...
If life is short...how do we choose to live our lives?
Somehow, it is always easier to allow the 'negatives' take over.
That way, we always have something to 'blame' when things do not go right.
We have allowed to feel low and sorry...for we are the 'victims'...
Really?

This is not a holier-than-thou kind of writing.
This is something I want to think about as the year comes to an end,and the new year is about to begin.

What if...2009 is my last year? Or the next?
That I will never know.
But I hope I will be able to feel grateful for a life fulfilled.

Dear God,
Thank you for letting me see another sunrise.
Let me live it to the fullest...in Your ways.
Ameen

Family Time

Initially I had wanted to continue about the Chek Jawa trip, but instead, I will write about what I did with my family over the past few days.

My Abah (father) does not much 'family' besides us - his wife and children and grandchildren.  Unlike Mak who has such a large extended family and is very outgoing and sociable, Abah is more reserved.  When I was growing up, he was always very busy...and emphasised that whatever he did, was for his family.  And now that he is getting on in years, he spends a lot more time 'making up' time, with his grandkids. Yes, he is still the disciplinarian, but the children respect his quiet authority.

When my principal came with me to Pakcik Samad's funeral the other day, she got to observe Akmal and Abah.  They recited verses from the Quran together, and when they were done, Abah took time to explain to Akmal a few things about what needs to be done with the jenazah (body).  It was then that Mrs Yeow make this remark." Your son seems so mature and sensible.  It is nice to see him listening to his grandfather. You need to have them building that strong bond in order for values to be passed down."
Alhamdulillah....Thank you to both my parents for having such a strong hand in raising my kids right.

Anyway, on Christmas Day, Abah wanted us to have lunch together.  My brother and his family had gone off on a holiday, and so it was just me and sis, and our brood.  We made our way down to Arab Street (but Pariaman was closed) and had a feast at 7 Jalan Pisang.  Why did I put down that address?  While it is now part of Hjh Maimunah's Restaraunt, the place where we had our meal was the place my mum, myself and sis grew up.  It was my late grandma's house.

It was a little sad reminiscing about the place...of course the features had changed, and but we tried to place the old ambin (wooden platform where we had our meals or slept), the airwell near the toilets, or the narrow passageways were we had hours of endless fun.

And amid the stories of yesteryears, we of course tucked in on a feast of nasi padang and all its lauk.(dishes).  When I first ordered, Mak was worried that we may not be able to finish...but when you are in the company of people you love...somehow, your appetites grow bigger.  It was nice to see Mak and Abah enjoying the meal despite the racket made by their curious grandkids.

You know, every Hari Raya, after I have met my parents and sought their forgiveness and blessings, I say a pray to Allah for giving me the chance to spend another special day with my parents.  Life , is unpredictable, and each opportunity I get to be with them, is a gift from heaven.  I will cherish each living moment....both theirs and mine....and make as many wonderful memories as possible.

I hope, one day, my children too, will say that prayer for me.

Dear God,
Thank you for giving me the best family possible.
Keep us in Your care and love....
Ameen

Memories made in the rain (Part I)

I have always wanted to take my kids to Chek Jawa.  I have spoke about it in class, and got the students to read up and write about the place.  The only thing left for me to do was actually to be there physically. 

If there was anything I learnt this holidays, it was that if I wanted something badly: - just do it.  Do not wait for reasons, or make up excuses not do so.  I had to wait for Zaf's return for I need a guide, but I was sure Evi and Erico would  love to join me.  Somehow, Faz also got wind that I was going, and so got all excited about it.

The plan was to look at the weather in the morning before deciding to go.  But that's it...no excuses for it had rained incessantly since 6.30am.  By the time we boarded the bus to Changi Village, the skies were thickly grey, and we were pelted down by the drops that fell from the heavens above.

We decided to fill our stomachs with yummy nasi lemak and teh tarik.  I am not much of a rice person, so I had mee rebus and teh-O.  While the rain fell steadily, we got into animated conversations that ranged from photography to shopping malls to almost anything under the sun for almost an hour.

With no indication of a letup in the weather, we decided to make a move to Changi Jetty.  Of course, it was a calculated risk to board a bumboat in rainy weather, for the water would have been very choppy.  They were benefits though for the rain washed away all the smell of diesel.

Anyway, our adventures began on the island itself.  Since we were already wet, there was no need to hire the van.  It would been more fun cycling to the wetlands itself. We donned pink ponchos (I had a yellow one which made me look like Winnie the Pooh), and at some point, I was reminded of a scene in ET the movie where the boys were frantically cycling before they flew into the sky.

Boy, did the rain pour then.  Part of me wished I had winshield wipers over my eyes to wipe away the droplets. We had 4 energetic teens who had to patiently wait for the 40 going on 14 -year-old 'aunties' whose creaking joints could not paddle as fast as them.

But for me, the bicyle ride was an instant reminder of my growing up years.
There was something so thrilling to be soaked to the bone by the rain, without the worries of falling sick.
The muddy, oft-beaten tracks were lined with dense foliage, but how wonderful it was to breathe clean, pure oxygen.
I had to quell a sudden urge to jump into the puddles of water and do a little dance of joy.

It was therapeutic...as if the rain was also cleansing the mind and spirit.
We stopped to gaze at the flora and fauna...simply to appreciate God's creations.  I saw trees which seemed to be calling out to me to climb them.  In my mind, I was the little girl again, at Wak Menah's kampung ...enjoying the simple things that life has to offer.
Most of the time, we cycled in single files, but the young men would often stop and wait to ensure that the ladies were not left behind. 

That's the first part...I'll continue maybe for the next entry.

Dear God,
Today, everything that I saw and experienced, reminded me of Your greatness and benevolence.
You are the Al-Mighty, the All-Knowing.
I am humbled.
And thank you for the rain...for we  had the best time of time. Alhamdulillah
Ameen

A Friend Remembered

Today, I mourn the passing of Pakcik Samat.
He lost his battle with diabetes...all within a short span of about 4 months.

I don't really know why I addressed him as 'Pakcik'...cos he was in his early 50s.
I suppose that was what everyone in school knew him as.

He started off as a contract cleaner with us in early 2003...and because of his dedication and quiet, unobstrusive ways, he was offered to join the school as a caretaker...after we lost another beloved caretaker, Cik Khamis.

Both men worked behind the scenes...making sure that the school was opened way ahead before the first person strolled into the premises at 6.20am...and were the last to leave sometimes. 

Pakcik Samat carried a bunch of keys to open about 120 doors...hahaha...I used to joke that I could hear the clanking of metal before I could physically see him.  He helped me look after my special room, and once per term,  the would conscientiously bring a bottle of Jif to scrub away the graffitti on the tables the students had scribbled.

When his illness took a toll on his health, he struggled when he came back to school.  He still needed the money to support his 2 school-going girls ("I married late, Cikgu", he had said to me with a tinge of regret.)
He became apologetic when he struggled with his responsibilities in school.  I think no student realised that he had lost some of his toes, and moving around was a laborous chore.

He did not complain...neither did he ask for a reduction in work load.
"Cari reski halal" (I need to earn a 'clean' living)...something that he believed in.
He worked and worked, and while we tried to lighten his load, his once well-toned body was reduced to a puffy but skinny frame...ravaged by illness when I last saw him.

Rest in peace, Pakcik Samat.
You fought hard...and you lived your life as an honest, decent man.
I will miss you.

Al-fatihah buat
Abdul Samad bin Mohammed
23 Dec 2009
Ameen

Tick tock tick tock

I had a very restless night....
The numbers don't lie, and the odds are against me.
I have learnt that whatever digits or percentage points that will appear, they all will pivot on those crucial results.

God knows I have tried.
But if I can't, then I am not the person for it.
Kill me if you must, let me go.
But I know that the consequence will be like of the albatross on my shoulder and the virus in my mind.
I will tied to a leash, and constantly haunted, always hunted.

Dear God,
I am accountable.
Please be merciful.
Ameen.

Choose your feelings

I am one who has been writing about making choices.
I know that my stand has always been that to say, " I will always have a choice...and to make the best out of whatever situation I am in."
This entry is to acknowledge the difficulties and challeges I face when I have to apply that.

No matter how much experience one has, or what one has gone through, I feel that whenever a situation presents itself to us, it is hard to act 'as we are used to'.  You see, while a positive mindset is something that we can cultivate and nurture, feelings on the other hand, occur more spontaneously.  We react instinctively.


I can listen to someone telling me a joke, and laugh...or I can blurt out in anger.
I am aware of my trigger points. 
So I guess that it is not so much the situation that creates the feeling alone....I do have some form of choice as to which feeling I can use to respond to the things that happen to me.

Perhaps that is why, it possible to have mixed reactions; or mixed feelings towards certain things.  It is also ok to be unsure.  But I suppose it is important that I cultivate a habit of responding to things more positively rather than negatively.

Last week, it was tough.
I realise the moment I feel that my feelings have been hurt, the wound can fester if I don't learn to let go.
Anger builds, and it does nothing but keeping on burning if I allow it to be fuelled by pessimism.
It took a while to let go,and immediately I could breathe.


Feelings profoundly influence the life you experience, and those feelings are yours to choose in any moment. Choose the ones that give real power to the purpose that lives within you.

Dear God,
I choose to be calm with myself today.
Thank you for your blessings.
Ameen

What they mean to me

Before I sleep tonight, I want to pen down these thoughts.

Earlier today, I had a small group of people over.  It is not possible to invite so many. I do not pick and choose, and it is not a case of finding favorites.  I have long accepted that in God's grand design of things, those are the kids I have grown to love and call my own.

It is something that I cannot explain, nor reason.
Why is each individual so important?
I don't question...I simply accept, and realise how rich my life has become.

Those who did not manage to turn up, you are sorely missed. ...esp Sky, K, M & W,
And those who did...thank you from the bottom of my heart.
Those who stayed long enough, thank you for filling the house with music and laughter.
And also thank you , AB...for being there...

Dear God,
My humble gratitude for the gifts and blessings you bestowed upon me.
I am deeply moved.

Dancing in My Dreams

I needed something to uplift my spirits today.
I found a song that really captures the essence of the username I use, and my wish that I could dance.
This song, :Dance My Dream', comes from a movie called "First Daughter."...something quite inspirational.
It is sung by a beautiful singer, Tamia.

"Dance My Dreams
Spinning, twirling, flying away

Memories guide me from yesterday
Time will reveal my destiny
So why should I fight
What's right for me?

Chorus:
I'll live, I'll breathe
I'll dance my dreams
Hold me, kiss me
Look through my eyes

Know me, oh feel me
No more disguise
So why should I fight
What's planned for me?

Chorus

Take my hand
Dance in my world
As I live, I breathe
I dance my dreams
Tomorrow will be mine

Today is ours
I will never let go
Until time unwinds
Today I have just arrived


And yea...I found my old animated blogskin...
Dear God
I need to dance today; even if it means in my dreams.
Ameen

The Turtle Mode

Those who have been to my office will know that I have a collection of turtles and tortises.  I don't know how or why I develop a penchant for the creatures, so when the menagerie began.  One thing for sure, it is not from watching Teenaged Mutant Ninja Turtles while Zafran was growing up.

But today, I realised an even deeper significance I have with the shelled creatures.  Someone made a passing remark about me having "Turtle Tendencies." I thought it was because I am slow, but the person said that  it is because I tend to retreat within ,and  I go out of my way to avoid confrontations.  I 'hide' until the coast is clear, and I feel safe again.  I supposed so...when the mind and spirit are beleaguered, I need to hide in my own self-made haven.

I am operating on that turtle mode right now...
For today, it feels as though I hit rock bottom.  Right now, it feels as though I am nursing the mother of all migraines.Something hurts badly.   I want to crawl into a cave and stay there for a few days, away from people.

I know I am not supposed to feel this way.  After all, I had a good time lately...
No, it is not about going back to school either. I am glad for work.
The results released today was quite good.  I applaud the effort put in by my colleagues.  Well done.

Yes...why do I feel so demoralised and so urgh?
I guess that maybe the fear of next year's results....Maybe. But I will worry when that time comes...for no point losing sleep about getting my head chopped off. Maybe it is a lot of unspoken fears and insecurities.

The turtle mode has allowed me, I think,  to enclose myself within...thinking I could cut myself off from certain things.  Unfortunately, this is not the case. The one thing I am never able to do is shut off feelings, and be totally devoid of emotions. That is my weakness.

I felt it so hard this morning...
Picking up waves after waves of unsteady vibes in the air...reaching out and calling...
The whole auras of jumbled colours...flickering bright and then darkening...
I could not shut it off completely...and plus the fact that there was more than one frequency.

And then I read something...
Damned...
The tears started swelling up in my eyes...Right there and then, I had wanted to write something in return.

But I refused to let the dam break.
I would not...I cannot afford to...
I cannot let my guard down...for I am weak.

This is one mentally and emotionally spent turtle.
I got no where to run to anymore, except poke my head out again.

Dear God,
Please help me learn to trust...and believe...

Stopping to smell the...er...?

The past few days, I took time off as promised to spend time with my children.  With Zafran away in Japan, and the fact   that I was not going away on a holiday, I guess it was time to make sure that I did something fruitful.

Monday was a promise that I kept to myself...a little indulgence on my part.
I have been meaning to go to a spa for ages, and I finally took up on Shuhaila's offer.  I should thank my lucky stars that I have an ex-student who actually owned one...and boy, did I get a classy treatment.  So while the kids went bowling with my other half, I spent the time soaking in a jacuzzi followed by a good two hour massage.  I felt like prata dough...kneaded  and flexed and pulled and stretched.  I could feel the pair of strong hands loosening the taut and tensed muscles. I creaked, groaned and rumbled...but there was something comforting about the session.  I literally felt weight lifted off my shoulders.

Tuesday...hmmm...
I had wanted to touch base with another person.....but ... ah well....
Very very very disappointed.

So the plans changed and took Akmal and Iffah down to explore Orchard Rd....something which I have not done for ages.
First stop was Orchard Central...not so much to shop, but experience the escalator ride up.
I ended up being weak in the knees...there is something eerie about ascending up four stories (from level 7 to 11) from glass partitians and looking down at the traffic and buildings below....Even the elevators were glass panelled...so scared myself silly going up and down (ya...ya...plus claustrophobia). It was even worse cos Akmal had a habit of looking over the escalator sides and pointing out excitedly at things...Can pengsan.

Then over at 313 Orchard, Akmal got excited that the upper floors. Why? He has a fetish for carpets...and the floor were covered with them.  I had to make sure that he did not roll over like the does at home.  We walked down to Ion...and I found out that one of my favourite shops, Bobbi Brown was there...hmm...maybe time for a makeover (as if that would work).  And of course, to give the kids a treat, we went to Swenson's Ion...which had an ice-cream buffet...Yes...You read right ICE CREAM BUFFET!...eat all you want...until it oozes out of your eyes and ears.

No lah...I was not that greedy.(though I ate 4 different chocolate flavours at one go).  Not a bad deal...The buffet offered all 50 flavours of ice cream, gelato and sorbet...along with the different toppings....There were cakes and pies offered along with waffles and pancakes...Plus  chocolate and strawberry fountains to make fondue.  I shall not reveal how much I ate...but lets say the money was well-spent by hubby and Akmal who could down the different possible combinations of sundaes.

And today, was another fruitful day.
I took 3 others with me to the zoo...and I must say, it was a truly enjoyable outing.
The long MRT ride itself was an adventure, and so was the bus ride.  But it was great being with people who seemed to be thrilled exploring everything.  Not just the animals, but the plants and the environment too.  Each stop was an adventure; with something new to be discovered.  So thank you Aimee, Evi & Erico....of course Iffah and Akmal. (next adventure coming up pretty soon ok?)

I am glad that I took this time off to be with people I love, and whose company I treasure.
It's true...stop and smell the roses occasionally, and life can become more meaningful.

Expect Nothing ....

Today's lesson was...when you expect nothing in return, you really get nothing.
I truly understand...
A door gets slammed in my face...
It is better not to open it in the first place.

No...No...No

Instead of banging my head against the  wall each time I spoke to my porcupines, I decided to look up for some answers to why they derive so much pleasure(?) by being so bull-headed.  This is what I found.

Negativism is a behaviour charaterised by the tendency to resist complying to suggestions and directions...something which happens I think 95 % of the time.  Make a polite request, and you'll get a direct no in return...No amount of cajoling, or even appeal to good sense will make the person change the fixed mindset.

According to studies, negativism appears and wanes at various stages of a person's development. Active negativism, that is, behavior characterized by doing the opposite of what is being asked, is commonly encountered with young children. I think we think of this stage as the 'terrible two and three' when a child tries to exert his automony..."No,No,No."...is the automatic response that has exasperated many a befuddled parent.
Studies have revealed that negativism develops during the first year of life, and resurfaces during toddlerhood and again during adolescence. Yup...the teenaged years is sometimes punctuated with either sullen sulky silence, or loud outbursts.  Yes...all teens feel that the world is against them...that they are at the receiving end of all the actions of their forefathers. So they shut their eyes and ears from whoever they think have contributed to their pathetic lives...and somehow revel in an amount of self-pity.

Negativism is often used by adolescents as a way to assert their autonomy from their parents and to control their own behavior. But here lies the danger.  It is not something that you can easily snap out off. It is almost cancerous in nature, for it takes over the whole being. When negativism does not diminish, it becomes a characteristic of the individual's personality. Negativism is an aspect of one of the essential features of oppositional-defiant disorder, characterized by a pattern of behavior that is defiant, negativistic, and hostile toward authority figures.  People like this do not trust anyone, except themselves, and will always be suspicious to people and their motives.  They do not appreciate kindness, and find it difficult to accept, when good is done to them.

*** I suppose I will have to keep on learning in order to understand.

Dear God,
Please preserve my sanity for if I do understand,
I need to keep on going despite the odds.
Ameen.

A funny thing called Love

This entry is for someone who is feeling rather confused right now.

I have watched you grow the past few years, and I do think that you are one of the most sensible persons I know.  Most of the time, you have your feet planted firmly on the ground, and you are clear about your goals.

But what has happened?
All of a sudden, you turned into a bowl of mush.
For someone who once vowed "No girl shall ever distract me from achieving what I want in life,"...you now seemed to have lost your sense of direction.

I warned you it was coming, but you had been so sure of yourself.
I have seen far too many of what cupid's arrow is capable to doing to a person's logic and reasoning, and more importantly, the havoc it wrecks on an unsuspecting individual.

I am not saying you are wrong...
But love is indeed a 'funny' emotion.
At your stage now, it has reduced you to a wreck.

Love is supposed to be positive...It is actually.
But I guess to you, it is something so unpredictable and irrational.
It is supposed to make you feel happy and contented, yet it robs you of your confidence and a peace of mind.

Love happens...
There is no 'timetable' when it will happen, or how it will happen.
It can strike at the most unpredictable and unexpected time,under circumstances which you probably cannot justify.

To you , all these emotions are new...
It  can be exciting and yet frustrating...a bliss and yet gut shattering. 
It has made you so unsure...so weak.

I do not have the answers for you...
It is sad...but you have to go through it yourself.
But I believe that if you get through this, you will emerge better and stronger.
It may not work out the way you want it to, but keep on believing in yourself.

Good luck,,,
If she does not accept you, then, it is she who does not know the value of a gem...
You are precious.

Spreading Your Wings

For the past few days, everyone at home (ya...everyone) has been busy helping Zafran pack. He will be leaving on a school trip to Tokyo, Japan with his peers from SRJC. He will be away for a week. I should say that he has been very lucky this time round.  The 22 students who are going are those considered with leadership potential, and he being the only Malay student chosen.

I step back for a while to reflect on how much he has grown.
I am a proud mother, and blessed to have such a son.
I know he gets  by in school, by sheer hard work and determination...driven by an instrinstic motivation to make his family proud.  (This is not a boast, for I think he gets that from me)...We both are not academically outstanding...but we survive and reach our goals quietly and steadily.

I am gratified each time I hear positive comments from his teachers.
"You have a well-mannered, pleasant child."  That makes any mother's day. 
Oh I am sure he has his naughty side too...but he seems well-adjusted.  I am blessed because my child still wants to speak to me, and tell me things...(haha...I know...not everything though)

I celebrate the milestones in his life...and support him during his struggles...
I shed a tear when he received his SPDF badge.
It was a leap of faith...to go to Haj, and not hear from him...as he trekked up the mountains in Kinabalu.
As he grew, he began seeing more and more of the world on his own...to HK and other places.
Two weeks ago, I saw a new side, a young man exploring possibilities in the world as he did his job attachment at Rajah and Tann, a prestigious law firm.

One day...he will leave the nest...
But I will pray...that as he spreads his wings, and finds his destiny,
he will be anchored by his values...and love.

Mama loves you Zafran.
As much as I love Iffah and Akmal...for each of you is unique and special.

Dear God,
Watch over my first-born as he goes on his trip.
Open his eyes wide as he sees the world, so that he will have a deeper appreciation of You and
Your Blessings.Ameen

Have a safe journey, Zafran
(and bring back a Hello Kitty for me)
Love, Mama

Kebobrokan

Yesterday, I was stumped by the word above when I read the Malay papers. I mean, a cursory glance of the headlines first left the impression that the word was 'keburukan' (the vices).  Well, while I am not proud of the fact that my competency in my own mother tongue language is far below my proficiency in English language, I guess my prediction was not too far off the mark.

But seriously...
Look at the ills of my community.  It has long been an issue that the Malays are not only lagging behind academically, but now, the main concerns is that we are even widening the gap socially.  The point is not just to do some finger pointing, or go deep to analyse the root cause of all these un-Malay behaviour...But then again,...really un-Malay? Or, have the recent ugly cases highlight the heart of the Malays themselves?

It is a vicious cycle, and no matter how we look at it, something has got to be done.
How many more little children have to suffer at the hands of thoughtless 'adults'? Al-fatihah for the souls of the late Edy, and Nonoi...and many others who lost their lives through cruel abuse...and a pray for those who have fallen prey to incest and senseless crimes committed by non-other by those who are 'family.

I know I will be guilty of making the worst assumptions and flawed reasoning...but look at things this way.

The Malays...
We still have the highest number of teenaged marriages. (No, I have nothing against marrying young). But a) a lot of these marriages are 'cover-ups' or shot-gun marriages arranged to cover the 'shame' of pre-marital liaisions b) a legal way some parents view to end the 'gatalness' of their children.  c) a quick way to gain 'freedom and independence'

But...
who are those who marry early or young?
Mainly those, who belong to the lower social strata...Not likely those who are pursuing higher education and or establishing themselves in more stable careers.
Are we really a community who think that 'asal cukup makan'?...that we are easily satisfied with our lot?
How far sighted are we as a community?
A lot of the young people naively think that LOVE is the most crucial ingredient to a long lasting and stable marriage.  Love alone is never enough.

The numbers do not lie.
While we are the minority group, how come statistically, we hold the highest number of divorces and re-marriages?  Why are we still the group producing the largest number of children?  How many of these children fall victims to broken , dysfunctional, multi-families?

Education has come far in Singapore.
That is one area where as a people, we stand an equal chance to prove ourselves and capability.  Yet, again, I see the high number of my people in the 'less-academically inclined streams'.  For years, we tried to push up the academic grades at all national levels, yet...we have the highest number of mainstream school leavers.  It is so so so sad.

There is just too much to think and reflect about.
We have a critical problems on our hands...
The question now is...what are we going to do about it?


Prayer for the day:
Dear God,
I thank you for Your Blessings.  I am the lucky one.
and I pray for your continued Love and Protection.
Ameen

Is this really the best of all possible worlds?

I have been trying to understand some of the philosophical arguments put forth through the years.  Maybe it is a part of my own journey into discovering my self and my own existence.  Yes, there are things which, as part of my faith, I believe, but occasionally, it is good to question.

Leibniz was a famous rationalist philosopher, who tried to make sense of the sufferings and injustices in the world...for if God is omnipotent and omnibenevolent, all that would not exist. As a rationalist, he thinks that reason take precedence over other ways of acquiring knowledge.

I think it is a little hard for me to swallow all that wholesale...
According to what I have read, this is how he derived that line of reasoning.

a) It is God who has chosen to create this world, otherwise, nothing would exisit.
b) There is such a thing as the 'principle of sufficient reason'...which would seem to show that there has to be an explanation why God has chosen to create this world rather than another.
c) God choice of creating this world must be then found in His attributes, since there was nothing else around then.
d) And because God is the Almighty who is perfect, he then created the best possible world....It is the only possible world...for he would not create a world that is not.

Ahhh...the Rationalist...
To him..the world is simply what it is...

There is this rather interesting analogy that follows
The optimist says." The glass if half full"
The pessimist says, "The glass is half empty."
The rationalist says, " This glass is twice as big as it needs to be."

hahaha...no wonder I sigh over that.

Dear God,
Guide me through my journey,
to re-discover You and Your Greatness.
Ameen.

I thought of someone...who is not around.
The feeling of loss struck hard and deep.



The words of comfort I found are these:

When someone you love leaves you, or goes away forever, weep not.

Do not repress the grief by trying to forget; revel in the joy of remembering.

Take comfort, that the person means much, and loved you much,

And that you too, have loved in return.



I will try...
to remember you...

Dear God
Watch over...please
Ameen

Voices... prayers for you.

I had a strange dream last night.
I was by the water, twirling ringlets with my finger.  I cannot figure where I was, but just aware that I was surrounded by colours. Not vivid nor bright, mutedly quiet as they went through the entire colour wheel.

I felt was I was searching for something that was in the water.  I think I must have dropped something, yet I was not frantic...as if I was certain that the object would surface in the little whirlpools I was creating.  But when the water stilled, and the ripples calmed, something surreal happened.

From somewhere, the Voices came...
Some familiar, some stilted, some soft; others loud and jarring.
All wanted to say something to be me...I heard them all, and yet, it was like being in the tower of Babel.  I understood, and yet I could not catch the message.

But one line stood out.
"Find me...help me."
It was like a bolt out of the blue...and with a start, I woke up.

Whoever you are...I will try.

Dear God,
If it is Your Will...lead the way.
Ameen.

Pages from the Past: One Bad Apple

Recently I cleared my cupboards, and came upon a 'relic'. Long before the internet age, I had penned down my writing in notebooks.  There were a few of them; old, yellowed and the ink barely legible due to age. But I felt a sense of excitment; for in those pages were stories I wrote when I harboured a secret desire to be a writer someday.  Hahaha...how things have changed.

But for those of who who enjoy writing, here is one entitled, "One Bad Apple".

She lost count how many times she had polished the fruit.
As a child, she had helped Grandma at the small market stall and knew that the customers would always be attracted to fruits that looked juicy and fresh.  The red apple gleamed under the pale night sky, its frangrance redolent.

"Why do you line up your apples and pears this way, Nana?  How come you put aside those?" Edwina heard her child-like voice asking Grandma years ago. Meticulously, Grandma  would go through the baskets of produce each morning, checking every individual fruit.

A gentle, wrinkled face smiled back and patted her head rather absently.
"Win, these are the that we sell.  You see those in the other basket?" Grandma's voice was soft, patient and soothing.  She walked over slowly, and took up an apple, that to Edwina's eyes, no different from the rest.  Grandma placed the it into the little girl's hands. The hands that covered hers were warm and comforting.

"Look carefully Win.  What do you see? What do you smell? What can you feel?"
Edwina stared long and hard.  The apple had a deep red skin, and a slight fruity yet tarty smell.  It was round and firm...and yet at the bottom, was a tender, bruised spot, that was soft to the touch.

"It's different here, Nana." she chirped, happy at the sudden discovery.  Otherwise, the fruit would have been perfect.

"That, my child, makes all the difference why I put it in this basket and not there.  You see, this apple is spoilt.  If I leave it together with the other apples, within a few days, all the other apples would go bad too.  There is a Western saying,"One bad apple spoils the whole barrel."...So you be good ok Wina, and grow up and make me happy."

"Of course Grandma...I love you the best in the whole wide world." she promised as she skipped away to play.

...Grandma...
Her reverie was momentarily broken and Edwina shivered when a cold wind blew.
The water lapped gently below her knees.
"Oh Grandma...I miss you."

Fate dealt her a cruel blow, and Edwina's sole caregiver left quietly one night to meet her Creator.  Edwina at 18, was left to fend for herself.  A little too old to be made ward of the state, and a little too young to be financially independent, Edwina had no choice but to leave her sheltered existence behind.  Not only did she lose her beloved Nana, she losely lost herself too.

She had to give up her hopes and dreams.
She had excelled in school, but could not afford to carry on.
She went out like a proverbial sacrificial lamb into the world of hungry predators...and a new Edwina emerged.  She met a much older man named Lionel who promised her the earth, moon and the entire universe.  He swept her off her feet, and for awhile, Edwina felt loved and safe again.

But she soon learnt the bitter truths about life.
She learnt the ugly side of human nature, and how promises can be empty.  She saw how cruel fate can be, when Lionel, upon learning that she was pregnant, had discarded her like a broken, unwanted toy.

"Ms Edwina...I am sorry to inform you...that..you are HIV positive."

Momentarily her eyes flew open as she shuddered at the memory.
The doctor's voice was cold and distanced...as if he blamed her for the fate about to befall on her unborn child.  Lionel had left her with two parting gifts...

By then, Edwina was oblivious to the cold.
She gently patted her rounded belly tenderly, and allowed herself to feel the slight butterfly-like moments of the life within her. "Poor little baby. You will be all right."

She again held up the apple against the starless sky.
She looked around for the tiny bruised spot.

"I am so sorry, Grandma.  I failed you.  I am your bad apple. But I will not spoil anyone else.
That...I will promise."

With that, she flung the fruit ahead in the water...and slowly allowed herself to be embraced by the cold, open sea.

A Happy Song

I woke up feeling a little better early this morning. I managed to say what I wanted to say to a certain someone, and the shoulders felt much lighter.  I had a good day too, in the company of the family and loved ones, listening to their endless chatter and animated 'discussions.'  And at night,  I cuddled a bundle of warm fur who snuggled up close to sleep with me.

I have decided to listen to a simple but happy song, to further boost my spirits.
I used to listen to it as a child; when life was much slower and less complicated then.

"All Kinds of Everything"
-by Dana

Snowdrops and daffodils

butterflies and bees
sailboats and fishermen
things of the sea
wishing-wells
wedding bells
early morning dew
all kinds of everything remind me of you

Seagulls and aeroplanes
things of the sky
winds that go howlin'
breezes that sigh
city sights
neon lights
grey skies or blue
all kinds of everything remind me of you

Summertime
wintertime
spring and autumn too
Monday
Tuesday every day
I think of you.

Dances
romances
things of the night
sunshine and holidays
postcards to write
Budding trees
autumn leaves
a snowflake or two
all kinds of everything remind me of you.

Summertime
wintertime
spring and autumn too
seasons will never change
the way that I love you.

Dances
romances
things of the night
sunshine and holidays
postcards to write
Budding trees
autumn leaves
a snowflake or two
all kinds of everything remind me of you.

All kinds of everything remind me of you.
(especially for you, my Blue Butterfly)

Dear God
Thank you for all your blessings and benevolence
I submit before you in gratitude
Ameen

One of THOSE days

Aw shucks...
I know I am on one of those downward cycles again.
I am not blaming anyone, but maybe...though I wish I am not able to absorb vibes so easily.
The radar tingles and my antennae is on high alert...and the colours I see are sober..

So this is for both me and you, and you and you....(I think you get it)

Some days, we all feel like it is better to hide under the sheets and not move at all.
Our expressions become dour, and for me, I find it so irritating when others are so chirpy.
That's when I want to 'enjoy' feeling downright miserable and sorry for myself.

Things will never always work the way I want to...all my good intentions are rejected, or misunderstood.
I think that people have let me down, and in return I let others down too.
Wounds fester, the spirit get broken, and scarily, it seems so easy to just give up and give in.

At times like this, the inner child voices a lot of negativity.
It is pessimistic and distrustful...

Who am I? What am I? Where am I going? How do I get there? Why? What for?
1 001 questions filled my already muddled head.

But today...is here.
Whatever was - is in the past.
The future is yet to be realised.

So two day, Dee...two days at most...
Though the prognosis is not good...claw up
Do not give up without a fight.

Dear God,
It is all in Your Hands.
Pasrah.
Ameen

Disappointment

I am disappointed.
At someone, because of something.

I wish I could just say it straight to this someone's face.
But I can't...because....
sigh...just because.

I suppose expectations have to be managed.
Mine will change...though I have no right to ask of that person.

Arrrghhhh....
Occasionally it is good to yell once in a while.
Let me blow my top...and maybe I will be calmer to discuss this through.

You let me down.

Lost

Today, as I am sitting at my table, I felt rather unsettled.  Yes, I do know I am bothered by something, be it the soft clicks I hear, or the voice that keeps talking to me in my head.
I have been in the office, mostly by myself this past week, and maybe the silence can be overwhelming.  To keep me a little grounded, I read.  And I came across this nice poem which I want to share.

Lost
by Dan Brown
Lost in a world, that scares me to death,
Lost in a crowd, I'm losing my breath.
Lost as a boy, lost as a man,
I need to grow up, don't think I can.

Lost as a person, can't find my way.
Lost in life, every day.
Lost in worry, who am I?
All my life, I've lived a lie.

Lost to kindness, lost to love,
Lost in a sky, like a new-born dove.
Lost in thought, which I shouldn't do,
It winds me up, I can’t get through.

Lost to comfort, all kind words,
Lost to advice, it isn't heard.
Lost to those who really care,
All these people, always there.

Lost in me, I need a break,
Lost in wonder, which road to take?
Lost in a place I don't know well,
Where are you now? There's no one to tell.

Lost here, all alone,
Lost apart from the mobile phone.
Lost still, there are no calls.
I'm struggling alone, to break these walls.

Lost in mind, lost in soul,
Lost memories, they're just a hole.
Lost family, lost mate,
Gone now, yet I'm full of hate.

Lost in a straight world, and I am gay,
Lost now, for what to say,
Lost in boredom, think I'll leave.
There's a lot in life I need to achieve.
-Dan Brown

Firstly, I am not sure if this Dan Brown is THE Dan Brown of the Da Vinci Code...
But whoever this poet is, well, he does capture the angst of many a 'lost' soul.


How does one get 'lost'?
In many different ways I suppose.
We don't each come with a manual that we can refer to as we go on our journey.
It is something that we all have to go through ourselves..
We all do not take the same road, and our obstacles are never the same.

Each person walks alone...but along the way, we sometimes have people who accompany us through various stages.
Those who are surrounded by others, find that they have a lot of support and guidance.
Those who are literally on their own...will somehow have to struggle through.

If we don't stop to ask for directions...we will lose our way.
When we do not stop and even question why we are travelling along that road...we may get lost even more.

And when we are lost,
search deep within ourselves...
maybe you will find the answers there

The Inner Child - I want to listen.

We all have fears...both rational and irrational ones.
One thing that is quite common is that we get frightened because we don't know...and when we 'don't know', we feel insecure. When insecurity sets in, we feel rather helpless and vulnerable.  Worse still, when we have little self-assurance, we are unsure whether we can even trust overselves.

We tend to talk to ourselves...whether aloud or in our heads.
Some of us then listen with our hearts, or allow the mind to rationalise the series of internal questions that pop up.
But how many times, do we give in to immature, wilful and sometimes downright silly thoughts that we have?  We claim to be able to think things through, yet the inner child within can be still very powerful.

An inner child...
Popular psychology refers to in as the childlike aspect of a person's psyche.
I think that the inner child is the 'mother to all our emotions'. It often reflects our deepest thoughts also which govern our immediate or spontenous reaction. Through education, experiences and conditioning, we sometimes learn to 'school and rein in' our child-like state. If one has had a positive childhood, the adult that emerges may be resilient, warm and fun...but if the inner child has been wounded, that is when the product can be rather disturbing.

Well, the topic of the inner child is complex and deep.
But I want to go back to the idea of talking with our inner child.
Since we do that all the time, do we really listen to ourselves?

As I grow older, I am very much aware of my Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde personalities.
My outer personality is very distinct from my true self.  But that does not mean I am crazy. I just sometimes need the two to work in tandem.  I must make sure that one talks, the other is listening...and not just having an internal quarrel in my head. It is not a simple matter of reason and mature thoughts triumphing over the impulsive, carefree ones...

So lets start...

Dear God,
When things are tough, I know I can rely on you.
At the same time, help me to become strong too...in character, spirit, and in mind.
Do not let my faith waver...and help me let others see, the wonders of Your Ways.
Ameen

Of porcupines, rabbits and those who need to find love

Yesterday I got poked.
Very badly by a porcupine whose defense mechanisms were on full alert.
It was my fault actually.
The porcupine did not do anything, but I had tried to touch it.  And that was when the quills came up automatically.
One stabbed right through...and I am bleeding right now.

Maybe I am in a melancholic mode, and somehow managed to pick up a book that I want to speak about.
It has been a long time since a book moved me to tears, especially one that is written for a target audience of between 8-12.  But believe me, those of who who have read this, will understand the power of the theme the writer, Kate DiCamillo has put across so stirringly.

The title is " The Miraculous Journey of Edward Tulane".
Very simply, it is a tale of a beautifully crafted rabbit made out of fine china.  The tale is narrated from this toy's (Edward) perspective.  He was created prefectly, and thought that he was the best thing ever. He was so full of himself.  He needed nothing and no one.  He was incapable of feelings because he was just porcelain, but he forgot that he was breakable.  But fate had a lot in store for him...and through a series of events, he learnt a lot about human values and feelings...and he learnt to love in return.

Maybe I am just in a soppy mood right now.
But that was something in the telling of such a simply story that made it deeply moving for me.  While one wonders if Edward was actually worthy of love in the first place made me wonder about most of the porcupines I have known.

Some people crave for love.
Others have learnt to exist without it.  It is the latter group that makes me sad.
Circumstances, past events, personal experiences have made the creatures fortify themselves so tightly that they will not allow anything or anyone in.  They claim many things...like they do not need to, they don't want to,..and that emotions get in the way of the things they want.  But they forget that negative emotions....well, are emotions too.
There is a deep , gaping void...
All that have been damned up will come crashing through if one reaches breaking point.
Just like in the story, his owner, Abilene said, " Be careful...He's made of china. He'll break."
When breaking point comes,  sometimes, it is also a point of no return.

For me, I am running away from prickly porcupines at the moment.
They cause too much hurt.

For my comrade-in-arms

It is the end of the academic year, and the corridors of the schools have fallen quiet.  The loud and familiar noise I am used to have faded.  While I seem to be more busy than usual the past two weeks, the silence is a reprieve.

It is a time to take stock of what has been done in 09...both the good and the bad.
It is also the moments when I ponder on the direction to take.
We learn from our mistakes and move on.

I know I have made a promise to stay.  And I will hold on to that promise.
Once I have fulfuilled my obligations, I will go, as quietly as I can.

But the promises I made are not the only things that is keeping me sane.
I think, my sentiments are best expressed to the prose below.

WHAT TEACHERS MAKE

by: Taylor Mali


The dinner guests were sitting around the table discussing life.
One man, a CEO, decided to explain the problem with education.

He says the problem with teachers is, "What's a kid going to learn from someone who decided his best option in life was to become a teacher?"

He reminds the other dinner guests that it's true what they say about teachers:
"Those who can, do; those who can't, teach."

I decided to bite my tongue instead of his and resisted the temptation to remind the other dinner guests
that it's also true what they say about lawyers. Because we're eating, after all, and this is polite company.

"I mean, you¹re a teacher, Taylor," he says.  "Be honest. What do you make?"
And I wish he hadn't done that ( to be honest) because, you see, I have a policy about honesty and ass-kicking:
If you ask for it, I have to let you have it.

"You want to know what I make?"

"I make kids work harder than they ever thought they could.
I can make a C+ feel like a Congressional medal of honor and an A- feel like a slap in the face.
How dare you waste my time with anything less than your very best."

"I make kids sit through 40 minutes of study hall in absolute silence.
No, you may not work in groups.
No, you may not ask a question.
Why won't I let you get a drink of water?
Because you're not thirsty, you're bored, that's why."

"I make parents tremble in fear when I call home:  I hope I haven't called at a bad time,
I just wanted to talk to you about something Billy said today.
Billy said, "Leave the kid alone. I still cry sometimes, don't you?"
And it was the noblest act of courage I have ever seen."

"I make parents see their children for who they are and what they can be."

"You want to know what I make?"


I make kids wonder,


I make them question.


I make them criticize.


I make them apologize and mean it.


I make them write, write, write.


And then I make them read.


I make them spell definitely beautiful, definitely beautiful, definitely


beautiful over and over and over again until they will never misspell


either one of those words again.


I make them show all their work in math.


And hide it on their final drafts in English.



I make them understand that if you got the brains
then you follow your heart
and if someone ever tries to judge you by what you make,
you pay them no attention

Let me break it down for you, so you know what I say is true:

I make a goddamn difference!
What about you?


Well put, Taylor Mali.

There will always times when my friends and I question ourselves why we stay in the profession. For sure, it is not about the money. 
So perhaps the answers lie in what instrinsically motivates us...and that is...the kids.

For Paulus - The Mystery of Life

This is for you, Paulus.

You have asked me a question that many have asked .  "What is life?"
Philosophers, great thinkers, scientists, theologists and even the humble man on the street ponder on that.  There are no complete answers; no consensus, no ready book available with the title "How to live."

Life is a journey of self-discovery.  And how you live out your life, will mark the milestones in your life.
I suppose the easiest way to explain this to you is to quote Shakespeare, from Much Ado About Nothing.

"All the world's a stage,

And all the men and women merely players;
They have their exits and their entrances;
And one man in his time plays many parts,
His acts being seven ages. At first the infant,
Mewling and puking in the nurse's arms;
And then the whining school-boy, with his satchel
And shining morning face, creeping like snail
Unwillingly to school. And then the lover,
Sighing like furnace, with a woeful ballad
Made to his mistress' brow. Then a soldier,
Full of strange oaths, and bearded like the pard,
Jealous in honour, sudden and quick in quarrel,
Seeking the bubble reputation
Even in the cannon's mouth. And then the justice,
In fair round belly with good capon lin'd,
With eyes severe and beard of formal cut,
Full of wise saws and modern instances;
And so he plays his part. The sixth age shifts
Into the lean and slipper'd pantaloon,
With spectacles on nose and pouch on side;
His youthful hose, well sav'd, a world too wide
For his shrunk shank; and his big manly voice,
Turning again toward childish treble, pipes
And whistles in his sound. Last scene of all,
That ends this strange eventful history,
Is second childishness and mere oblivion;
Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything." — Jaques (Act II, Scene VII, lines 139-166)

I know that is a whole mouthful.
But in that monologue, the character reflects upon the 7 stages of Man...from birth, a 'whiny schoolboy,' the teenager in love, the idealistic soldier (youth), the justice (or a man making his mark in the world),  an age of wisdom and finally, when man dwindles into second childhood. That basically sums up the whole cycle of life we all go through.

But in this one, perhaps we will look at it from a framework drawn by a well-known psychologist and researcher, Erik Erikson who said that all of us go through 8 stages in our social, emotional and intellectual development.
1. Building Trust and Hope ( 1st 2 years of life)
2. Gaining Autonomy & Individual Will ( 3-4 years)
3. Learning Initiative and Purpose
4. Developing Self-competence (school age))
5. Searching for Self-Identity (teen - youth)
6. Finding Love (young adult)
7. Generative Care
8.Integrity and Wisdom.

You can find more if you do your search engines.

But where are you now?
Probably betwen 4 - 7.
As a youth, you struggled with many things in your search your 'yourself'.  That is when you find yourself as a separate entity from your parents...trying to find the right fit of friends ...trying to understand your values.
For some, this stage is one filled with angst.
You hate being constrained, you think that you are right,and that sometimes, the whole world is against you.  No one seems to understand you.  It is a time when you feel like breaking all conventions just to test.

At that point of life, you struggled with a lot of issues.
There was always that question, "Why me?" or "Who am I?"
And that is why, young people need to look out for others.  You look for like-minded friends, and yearn for special compansionships.  Your body, mind and soul look out for those who can fill this void...this emptiness. However, you may not be ready to be tied down yet...the world is such a exciting place...to explore, to try new things.

If you have partly found yourself, you slowly develop a sense of direction as to where you want to go.
However, this is also the time when you are thrown into 'the real world' full of its harsh realities and hardships.  You are idealistic, and full of drive, but find your attempts thwarted at every direction.

I hope I am making sense to you.
I think you are filled with a little bit of nostalgia at the moment; thinking about how good it would be like to be able to go back to school, and just worry about exams...and not about life.
You have yet to make your mark in the world, and that takes a lot out of your own sense of self-confidence and self-worth.
And that is why, you become very uncertain of what your next move should be.  You want to do so much, but each time you find yourself running smack into obstacles; one after another.

Maybe, I will let you ponder about that for today.
I will get back ...and share my experiences about how to cope with that.

Take care.

Shaken & Stirred

Within a short space of 3 days, many things happened.
And since I know that you will be reading this, I hope you will understand some of my references here.

Firstly, I am still on the topic of the DISC.
I am reflecting on how I perceive my environment, and how I respond to it.
Ok...

I am the high S, high C.(at the other extreme, comes the low D. low I)
Technically, this profiling all came about from choices...both the positive and negative choices I have made, and how they now shape my outlook of things.
Positive psychology looks into areas where one must leverage on one's strengths in order to propel one towards achieving one's goals.  But we all have our cynical and skeptical sides right.

Why have I seem to 'reject' things I once used to enjoy?
I think I was outgoing, gregarious, fun-loving and enthusiatic.
I grew up around so many people, and the nature of my job makes me want to be around people.
Why have I allowed myself to grativate towards introverted tendencies?

Experiences can change a person, both consciously and unconsciously.
I have reached a stage in my life where I am comfortable with who I am..
I love being with my family, and my circle of friends are the selected few.  I touch base with people around me via other means.  There is no longer a great need to be a social butterfly...that is too stressful.
I understand my father a lot better now...while mum makes it a point to go around and physically meet up, abah finds comfort around those who really mean a lot to him.

So what have I become?
Lets see if any of these hit the nail on the head?
By being a low D, I am subservient and docile. I allow people to walk over me. (But for you: I hope you see now why I blew up...Both of us patience have their limits...so while I am used to your short explosions,...you need to understand that when I blow, the eruption is just short of a major catastrophe).I have learned many bitter lessons in the work place, and thus, I am less trusting.  When I remain quiet and observant, others are not sure what I am thinking. Pragmatism has its merits, but I seem to have lost my spirit and my drive.

I want to quote something from my personal profile:
"Your tendency to follow procedures and rules in both your personal and professional life means that you are usually restrained in my emotions. In fact, an aura of cautious deliberation may often surrond you.  Even under pressure, you are likely to remain tactful and diplomatic."

Yes...I have chosen that.
I have chosen to, on many occasions hold my tongue and not say what I truly feel.
I have chosen to remain rational and in control....for I fear that when I don't do that, I will be utterly lost.
I have learned to think before I speak, and always be mindful of others.
And in the end, I end up being a very frustrated person, channelling all the negative energy elsewhere.

Saturday....
I guess it was a day of reckoning.
And I hope that we both learnt important lessons from that incident.
"You are likely to fear antagonistic behaviour, which may be because your sense of self-worth is not as high as it could be. it might help you to realise that you tend to define your value too much by what you accomplish, rather than by who you are as a person."
We are similar, and yet different.  What holds us together are the values and beliefs.
I fear that when fire is fought with fire...we both get burnt.
It's a hard lesson we learnt
One I will not forget easily.

Really shaken,
Really stirred
Really on the rocks.

DISC Prolifing & Revelations

I attended an interesting workshop on Friday. As a part of the effort to move forward, members of the SMC got ourselves profiled with the DISC tools.  By doing this, we got to gather a few insights on what kinds of personalities we are intrinsically, what we can become at work, and what drives or pressurise us at work.

I have done StrengthsQuest, and the 360 Feedback, and as far as I know, they both have revealed why I do the things I do, and what causes me to feel lacking in the things I do.  I recognise my plus points, and no matter how much I try, when I simply concentrate on overcoming my weaknesses, I end up being mediocre. Why? Simply because in the way things are run now, I am not able to leverage on my best aptitudes.  Positive attitude alone will not work, and in the long run, if there is no equity, I find myself in a rut.

Back to DISC.  What did it reveal?
Nothing new...that I am indeed a High S, High C....in short, the one who keeps peace at all costs to the point of being anal retentive! Hahahahaha.
I am the steady and compliant.  In the given grid, I fall under the Receptive category."These people are retiring and unobtrusive, and are reluctant to act unilaterally. They may be amiable in approach, or simply reserved and unresponsive, depending on their particular circumstances."

Is it really me? Has age mellowed me so much?
I used to think of myself as a firebrand; a tempest.  While growing up, I was gregarious and outgoing.
Mr Hyde has overwhelmed Dr.Jekyll.....Bruce Banner has tamed the Incredible Hulk.

Hence the stress factors.
While I used to get high out of socialising and meeting people,...I am on my way to becoming a recluse?
And that is why, I am getting stressed lately.  I used to think  I would easily work  with people and get along with them...by driving them forward.
Now?  My profile says..."Hey, let me do my work...alone, and I will do it well."
So what kind of leader am I now?....a pretty isolated and terribly closed-up one.

True...I am a planner. I got lots of ideas and want to do them well.
Haha...see how I colour coordinate my clothes and things at home.  I am loyal to a fault.
Changes upset me (haha...and I thought I was impulsive and flexible)
The truth out there shows...because I think and think and think and think...sometimes, I never get things done.

Well, I know that my strengths is that I am tactful and diplomatic.  Avoid confrontation at all costs...and sadly, it cost me ...for being assertive is not my forte.  I will need to work on this, and not be too willing to try to save the situation.  I need to learn to ask for help.  When confronted with a problem. I am the sponge that aborbs everything, and then when the burden is too much, I crumble under the weight, and ignore the problem altogether as if it does not exist.

Whoa...this is tough, but the insights give me certain clarity.
I am now certain, that my current position is not suitable for me....I am not the main player,,,but an excellent team player...Give me a supporting role, and I make sure, I will make sure I give the best of my knowledge and strength.

The combine profiles now lie with one person.  I hope she has the insight too...to do the reflection and see the bigger piece.
So please please understand...
I want to stay....I like being where I am, but not with what I do.
But I will be more effective when I am able to do the things I love.

Dear God,
I am learning to  accept what I am now, and how I have come to this stage.
Please help others to accept me too.
Ameen

DISC Prolifing & Revelations

Gandhi - 7 Blunders of the World

Wealth Without Work

Pleasure Without Conscience

Knowledge without Character

Commerce without Morality

Science without Humanity

Worship without Sacrifice

Politics without Principle


He was indeed a wise man.

Short Work & Tall Orders

It has not been a good start of the week.
Though I have cleared a lot of physical stuff, I need to get rid of emotional and mental baggage too.
They are the heaviest ones to shoulder.

Aound me, tempers are running short; including mine.
We are all snapping and barking.
Nothing seems to make us happy. 
And when we are unhappy, we make others unhappy too.

What's causing all these?
Misperceptions, miscommunication, (lack of it too) and one thousand and one things under the sun)
Things done, not done, not done properly, cannot be done....done for?

Arrrrgh...
Not good...not good.
The way to go is to snap out of this.

Dear God,
Keep me calm and sane.
I will survive this.
Ameen.

When love dies

It was strange.  This past week, a few people fielded me with questions about 'Love'.
I am no expert, and am still at times, pondering over it's significance.  This is one topic that lends itself to a whole spectrum of responses, and I must say, it really depends on the individuals.

The ancient Greeks, have 4 different words for love.
Agape - the traditional form of love - of happy thoughts and good feelings {Charity)
Eros - more of an attraction of desire, of passion and romance
Philia - the kind of comfortable feeling ...maybe between friends (Friendship)
Storge - affection ...like that of a parent for a child.(Affection)
(do read it up for yourself if you are interested)

But the one that really took me off guard, was this one.
The message was not one of hope.
"What happens when love dies?"

As it is, Love is such a complex emotion that it may , on the surface, seem easy to get rid of once it is no longer there.  But because love starts and grows from a certain point, it may have rooted deep within a person, and it is not easy to just let go.  We cannot switch on and off our emotions that easily.

Sadly, many a times, people get involved in relationships, or friendships, or even get married because they think they are 'in love'.  For some, it is the idea of falling in love with that idea itself that adds on to the confusion. Plus different perceptions of what love ought to be...we see now why, in an age of instant gratifications, marriages break down, and people are cynical about the idea.

"Love never dies a natural death. It dies because we don't know how to replenish its source. It dies of blindness and errors and betrayals. It dies of illness and wounds; it dies of weariness, of withering, of tarnishing."- Anonymous

I know this is getting mushy.
But back to the question again...what does one do when love dies?

Again there are no answers.
You choose...
a) to allow it to die, and move on
b) to try and re-ignite the spark
c) do a lot of soul searching
many,many options.

But don't forget one sad fact.
Yeats said, "Hearts are not had as a gift.. Hearts are earned.."
You must have one loved the other person, and now, search deep within yourself to keep just a tiny portion of that...so that they will not be replaced with strong, intense hate instead.

Be strong, dear one.
May god be with you.

Happy Birthday, Mak

Today, my mother reached a new milestone in her life.  She turns 70.  And like my sister puts it, "She looks damned good for her age." Alhamdulillah.

I think mak is enjoying herself at the moment. I am grateful for that, and she is certainly blessed.
Her growing years were difficult, because she was raised in a family of 10, with her as the youngest girl at no 7. (there would have been about 14 altogether, though 4 died at birth or childhood).  Her father, my grandfather whom I never got to meet, drove a 'casket' bus: - something convenient looking at the number of his brood.  My late grandma was a smart but tight-fisted woman who raised her brood somehow when she became a widow shortly after the birth of her youngest son.

Mak came under the care of Tok Hamid, (her mother's brother) who was one of the rare Malays who managed to get some education, and was a clerk at a government office. His own family was small (3 kids - rarity then), and he ensured that she too had some education.  So mak went to school and made it far enough to become a teacher.  But in general though, her life was still very very hard.

Mak was (and still is), a pretty lady.  (haha...yes, only my sis inherited those genes).  She was particular about the way she carried herself..."never mind if you are poor...but never be poor in values". That is one of her beliefs.  And she is such a people-person, that she goes around making friends to anyone she meets.

She met Abah...and in this area of love, she is one of the luckiest women in the world.  He adores her, and till today, panders to her whims and fancies.  I know of many other couples who envies their closeness.  Mum can sometimes be hard to please, but Abah has the patience of a saint when it comes to the idiosyncracies of his wife.

I grew up with a mother who worked...unlike so many of my Malay peers who had stayed home mothers.  The house ...er...just like mine right now...was perpetually in a state of mess, but that did not matter.  Sometimes there was no home cooked meals waiting, but we got by. 

Dare I say that I had always been the good, obedient child?
Somehow, she had drummed into me not to be wilful, though I picked up her sensitivities and impulsive nature.  I rarely had those clash of personalities arguments.  My sis says it is because I tend to take after my dad, in allowing things to slide.  Sis and mum though, are so alike that sparks fly when they disagree.

But mak made a lot of sacrifices.
And I see it so clearly now.  She was 'not there'...while I grew up, so now, she throws her energies into my kids.  She is their teacher, guide, friend, nagger, and grandmother.  She showers them with so much, and practically takes over some of the parenting role when I am not around.

I am so lucky and blessed.
Happy Birthday Mak.
May Allah Bless you always.  I pray for your good health, and that you will have a long, serene and contented life.  May you always be surrounded by love and happiness.
Ameen.
Love, Dibah

Walking in another person's shoes

There is a quote that I love from Harper Lee's classic," To Kill a Mockingbird."  In it, little Scout learns the meaning of empathy and acceptance when she was told, "•You never really understand a person until you consider things from his point of view... Until you climb inside of his skin and walk around in it."

We all know that no two people are alike.  And from there, many problems arise.
We all have our own beliefs, views, perceptions, values, philosophies of life; whatever.  Very often, as humans, we find it difficult to really see eye-to-eye over many issues. Man go to war over differences like these today.

Why is it so hard to walk in another man's shoes?
For one, it does not fit.  It does not feel right, nor does it seem right.
Yet if we make the effort and try, things may be a little different.

As a teacher, sometimes I think what it means to sit on the other side of the table.
From there, I learn about challenges , fears, frustrations and the need to have someone to keep believing in me.
I remind myself to have fun...for as I grow older, I seem to do that less and less.

As a mother, I remember what it was like being a giddy teen, wanting to make my mark in the world, or as the insecure teen who worries over friendship , and school, and self-image. Or as a tween...not an adult, and not so much a baby either, and not knowing when to behave as which.

As woman....hahah...shall I even discuss this?
Like a colleague once remarked to his male friend the other side, "Hey, can you please move back downstairs? There's too much estrogen talking in the room!" Hahaha.
Short of sparking off a gender war, I do make the effort to sense and reflect how men would feel and react (or is it the other way around?!)

But, walking in another person's shoes is an art by itself.
It is always very challenging. It is never easy.
If you want to do it, you really have to leave your mental, emotional and intellectual baggage behind.
And prepare yourself to embrace a whole new world sometimes...and it may not be something that you are ready for.

The art of walking in another person's shoes...seriously, means not using your head to rationalise things.
Because when you do that you are still measuring the other person by your own yardstick.
You cannot really question and shoot it down. You have to suspend beliefs and hold your tongue.

The art of doing so means;-
You have to FEEL like that person...to eat, breathe, think, react, communicate...in short, BE that other person for a while.
And when you finally SEE things through his eyes , sensations and experiences, hopefully , the understanding will come in.

So if there is any amongst you, who have attained such wisdom,
Teach me so I can learn.

In Full Bloom

I am home today...
It is the blessing I find; though being sick is not fun.
And yesterday's traumatic experience is something I do not wish to repeat.

As I scanned the papers this morning, something in the Forum Page of the Straits Times caught my eye. All the hullabaloo over the PSLE exam papers was put into perspective by a reader, Mr Ee Teck Tee.

I would like to quote these lines:
What is unfortunate is that in Singapore, a student's future is so often determined by just one examSome flowers which blossom late can also be of matchless beauty. Not doing well in any exam does not mean a student is inherently poor in that subject

His metaphor of the late bloomers remind us that it is high time that parents themselves stop pushing their children into the direction of academic success alone. Good results do not necessarily equate to a better future in today's context; neither do they reflect the 'quality' of the individual.

I will not be in school today to face parents. Like I once wrote on my updates on FB, "Red marks, red eyes & red faces - I hope that parents will not equate failure in exams to mean that the child is a total failure!"

I have seen my fair share of 'late bloomers'...and by God's will, how beautiful that can be. A child who was dogged with mediocre marks came to see me; head downcast and parents who could not understand "how come this one is so different...big brother and sister are university graduates...blah..blah.." This child however, had a gift. Give him a sketch pencil and a paintbrush, and caricatures come alive. He had a 'wicked'sense of humour, and I enjoyed many an afternoon listening to his ascerbic and witty exchanges with his peers. Today, he is a copywriter for one of the newspapers, and I am confident that he will make his way up.

I cannot speak enough of KC...who till today sometimes find it hard to shed his "I am just poly while they are high-fliers from top JCs."...For the umpteenth time, let me tell you, you earned your place there. By your own merit. What you may lack in terms of IQ, I am confident you will get by with your EQ and AQ.

The year end brought a mix bag of results from my own children. It was not the numbers of As scored, nor was I terribly upset by the U grades that appeared. It does not mean I am laid-back or not concerned. It meant that I value the effort and determination I saw behind those marks. I do try to accept the aptitude of each child,and understand appreciate that that the attitude in their approach will hopefully mean that there are in good stead to face the challenges of the future.

One of the plus points of staying in my school...is that I do get to see my true gems shine.
And I hope, that many more will continue to do so.

God,
A prayer of hope today for the many many buds which have yet to bloom.
Show the world that they too, can be spectacular someday.
Ameen.

When they all break down

One by one...
The signs are telling me something, and that I really need to watch out.
I know what I should be doing.
Yet, why do I chose to put them aside?

Have been up all night.
My threshold of pain is lower now.
Up there, something hammers incessantly
while the nerves get stretched to taut fragile lines.

Pain...is not good for sanity.

Child - Sylvia Plath

This is written by one of my favourite poet, Sylvia Plath

Child
Your clear eye is the one absolutely beautiful thing.
I want to fill it with color and ducks,
The zoo of the new

Whose names you meditate ---
April snowdrop, Indian pipe,
Little

Stalk without wrinkle,
Pool in which images
Should be grand and classical

Not this troublous
Wringing of hands, this dark
Ceiling without a star.



Her poems are sometimes dark and troubled, mirroring the inner recesses of her own mind. But dig deeper, and you will see the beauty in her style and the creativity of her imagery.

Does everything come with a price?

Over the past months, I have been following the progress of someone whose outlook on things sometimes run counter to my own beliefs and thinking. I have found myself wavering between hope and despair, with many many moments of exasperation in between.

Some asked me point blank why I even bother. Why would I allow someone, who clearly has an extremely strong will, affect me...It is most likely that he does not even realise that he has that ability to rattle me. Nor does this person seem to care about the way I feel.

I cannot answer that.
I know, that in God's grand scheme of things, somehow, this person is the one whom He entrusted upon me.
Yes, I know I speak of 'choices'...but even when I made the decision to draw the line, the chain of events that follow will ultimately lead me back to square 1.
So I accept my challenge, and I will follow through.

By right, this child is no different from the rest.
All have their stubborn streaks and moments of wilfulness. All caused heartaches and heartbreaks along the way. I have learnt to pick up the broken pieces and move on. Though I do not know if I will survive this one...or will be around long enough to follow through.

This child is a bundle of contractions if I may say so.
Detached, pragmatic and such a realist...that he unwittingly and silently screams for attention. Short of being cold and callous...he behaves in a manner as such because, he thinks is such - devoid of any capacity of feeling.There are times when I feel that my presence in his life must be likened to that of an annoying mosquito, buzzing around, trying to suck blood out of him. And yes, I have been felt the sensation of being smacked to death and flicked away.

But interestingly, nothing is ever good enough.
If you go deeper, it means that at least this person is capable of feeling albeit seemingly negative ones. And what follows, I see, is someone who is so scared of feelings that all are suppressed, never to be opened. It is so much safer that way. So "kill..or be killed".

To him, things that happen come at a price. Consequences of actions all reflect a cost; and the scales of the balance fall into disfavour because of one shortcoming, a flaw, or just plain bad luck. The actions of the future are all governed by what is done badly or not done in the past.

I find that very sad. A 'cost' deemed as the price one pays for actions; the toll, the sacrifice, the loss, the penalty, the damage incurred.

There is nothing I can do at the moment to change this. Even if I were to drop dead tomorrow will likely not have an impact.

But...I look up above, and I remember my amanah.
I will not give up on this child...at all costs.
Cost of being there for a child,any child , is priceless.
This is my duty, and I chose to do it willingly.

Dear God,
There are days...you know what I mean.
Do not let my own fears and insecurities overwhelm me.
Guide me.

Ameen.