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.