Keeping myself company

It seems the older I get, the more personal space I want and enjoy. Or perhaps I've just learnt to like my own company more. That's a good thought.

I had the perfect (solo) evening today.
- Ate what I was craving for dinner (tomyum ban mian) while listening to music on my radio phone. The eat until sweat kinda meal.
- Then exercised. (Climbed up 22 storeys in heels,too lazy to change into contacts and run)
- Then watched a weepy Jap movie until past sunset and my living room grew dark and took on the ambience of a cinema. (of course by then i was bawling my eyes out)
- Nice hot bath
- Blogging
- Minimal marking
- Anticipate a good read later on. ('This is my best' compilation of solid writers' best works)

There.

Of course, if I was to do this everyday I would feel damn sad. But sandwiched in between daily evening appointments, this was restful.

Odd how we take whatever is routine for granted.

Commitment phobia

Today, I decided to sign up for the choir of the church that I've been attending for the past 6 months.
The conductor(conductress? is there such a word? hmm.) is incredibly gifted and obviously very humble and nice.. Everyone seems so.. decent. Gosh. In my tube top, gold wedges and tight jeans, I seemed so ..non-Christian. (a number of times, people in my former church used to look expectantly at me when the pastor on stage asked for newcomers to stand. I always found it hilarious.)

This leads me to question - what does a Christian lady look like? sigh. With my pop culture tendencies, I don't think i fit the bill.

But back to the choir thingy. So I did an on-the-spot audition (she said I was naturally gifted as a singer! Soooo happpppy! hee!) and rehearsals start this wednesday. Gulp.

But it was the part about commitment that made my palms sweat. She said that the most important thing about being in the choir was the commitment to weekly rehersals .. ya dah ya dah ya dah.. I've heard this all before, and two years ago, I would not have blinked at it. Commitment? No problem at all.

Yet, today, when I heard her say that, my heart hesitated. I realise ever since I got out of my previous church, I've lost faith in my own ability to commit.. to anything. Part of me is still guilty over my 'defection', still defensive. Part of me is still wondering if I have what it takes to go all the way when i say I will commit to something. Part of me thinks that I have failed in ironing out my relationships within the church.

My reason argues that I had outgrown certain things.. but reason can go either way. And i tend to think too much and feel guilty anyway. And why- if I am joining this of my own free will and out of a desire to sing again - why should I feel trapped?

In any case, I'm glad my God looks at where I'm going and not where I've been.

So this Wednesday - a fresh start.

Slapping the ceiling

I was at Orchard Underpass this afternoon and a family were coming down some steps. Suddenly, the elderly, white-haired grandfather reached out to the overhanging low ceiling to slap at it. Just for the heck of it.

I wanted to laugh out loud. Or simply congratulate him for keeping his youthful exuberance and bo-liaoness.

Odd that if some middle-aged guy did that I may ascribe it to childishness, but when some old man does it, I ascribe it to youthful exuberance.

Must re-examine my mental models. Or maybe just don't think so much lah.

I Shall Wear Purple
When I am an old woman
I shall wear purple,
With a red hat which doesn't go and doesn't suit me.
And I shall spend my pension on brandy and
summer gloves. And satin sandals, and say we've
no money for butter. I shall sit down on the pavement
when I'm tired. And gobble up samples in shops and
press alarm bells. And run my stick along public
railings. And make up for the sobriety of my youth.
I shall go out in my slippers in the rain. And pick
flowers in other people's gardens. And learn to
spit...
But, maybe I ought to practice a little now? So
people who know me are not too shocked or surprised
when suddenly I am old and start to wear
purple.
- Jenny Joseph

Dreams

Stuck in school for a Parent-Teacher meeting and I'm the chief presenter (ie. will be doing all the talking) Urgh sigh.
Not sure why I'm feeling so tired and rather gloomy.

Saw a lovely movie yesterday - Someone like hodder - part of the nordic flim fest. About this boy who is rather... whimsical yet kind. He sticks out like a sore thumb amidst everyone else (9 year olds) who are pragmatic and cynical. Ends up bullied, yet retains his sense of being a dreamer.

I think I've stopped alot of dreaming. Not entirely, but substantially. Used to dream alot more. The 'omnipotentiality of youth' as psychoanalysts say. Does this mean that those who are no longer youths naturally stop dreaming?

Perhaps adults dream in a different manner..

Nothing is impossible, the Lord says.

Matthew 19:23-26
23 And Jesus said to His disciples, "Truly I say to you, it is hard for a rich man to enter the kingdom of heaven. 24 "Again I say to you, it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle, than for a rich man to enter the kingdom of God." 25 When the disciples heard this, they were very astonished and said, "Then who can be saved?" 26 And looking at them Jesus said to them, "With people this is impossible, but with God all things are possible."

My New Toy

After much hemming and hawing, I finally bought it - a mini UFO catcher machine.!

For those who do not undertsand - it's a mini version of those glass boxes in arcades with the claw (think Toy Story) that catches soft toys. It even comes with irritating circus music and applause when you do manage to catch a sweet! (Instead of soft toys one puts sweets in this one).

I salivated the moment i saw it.. one of my fantasies come to live!! (Ok, odd fantasy i know. But compared to... never mind.)

Once again, the reaction of everyone was telling.
My mum - Aiyo, like you very deprived in childhood like that. Make me feel so guilty!
Me - HUH?!?!? Okaaaay.. Just be happy for me can?

My sis - Rolls eyes.
Me - Lalalala... Wait till I catch a sweet!

TM - Ooooohhh... I want one in pink!!
Me - Let's have UFO Catcher competitions!

Cellina - hahaha.. You're so funny!
Cellina's boys - transfer and teach in my school can?
Me - Big grin.

Tomorrow I shall bring my machine to school and see how everyone reacts.

Woo hoo!

Now whether I get my breath mint after my sambal belachan lunches all depends on.. skill.

Boobs, booty or brains?

Just watched an excerpt of some entertainment show with Fiona Xie interviewing three pseudo-hunks with fakey accents. The question was - which body part of a woman is most important to you - boobs, booty or brains? To which all three (earnestly) unanimously replied - brains.

Yeah, RIGHT! Like I believe these people.

I have found that most guys (not all I must qualify) are helluva initimidated when I finally show off my brains. Especially in the context of a conflict. Most guys are more emotional and less rational than they think they really are, to top it off, there's a high dose of denial in the mix. Lethal.

So back to the pseudo-hunks. Know what I think? I think they meant brains powered enough to flirt and amuse, yet constrained enough to capitulate to their ways of thinking.

Hrmph.

Maybe this tirade is prompted by a little episode I had with a colleague. We were in the printing room together and suddenly this older lady colleague started talking to me in a congenial, advisory tone. 'So, are you seeing anyone?' 'Haha, no.' 'Oh! But you're so.. dynamic.' (I was hoping for attractive but she said dynamic.. o well.. heh)

And in response, without much thought, I flippantly replied, 'Oh, guys don't want dynamic girls, they want girls who will listen to them.' She started for a moment, then smiled and said, 'Yes, that's true.'

See?

Sigh.

Using my imagination

I've always sought comfort in the following verse -
Thou wilt keep him in perfect peace, whose mind is stayed on thee: because he trusteth in thee. - Isaiah 26:3

But of course, the practical aspect of keeping my mind 'stayed on God' 24/7 has been quite... impossible for me.

Yet, this morning I read another version of the verse
'Thou wilt keep him in perfect peace, whose IMAGINATION is stayed on thee'.
How magical, how wondrous.

I directed my imagination this morning to God, using the Lord of the Rings as a starting point, imagining nobility and honour and truth and courage. It made me more conscious of how glorious Jesus is.

And it did bring me peace.

Love rituals

I've been vastly amused these past few days as I walk around City Hall/Orchard road observing couples/suitors preparing for Valentine's day.

In particular, there's a certain atmosphere of urgency within jewellery shops. Dutiful boyfriends/husbands try to look earnest as their darlings choose something nice (and hopefully within budget).

I used to be one of those girls; one of those who need tangible proof that - yes, we are a couple, and yes - by golly you better prove it to the whole world that you like me enough to spend ludicrous sums on wilting flowers on this particular day.

But on the day I did receive flowers from my ex on Valentine's day, I suddenly felt.. embarrassed. It suddenly hit me that i did not want any attention about the fact that we were a couple. It was a private affair. And the fact that thousands of other girls were carrying around similarly wilting flowers was... sad. I did not feel special. I only felt as if my ex had felt obligated to buy those embarrassed roses for me.

So as I walked around today, I felt happy that I do not need jewellery or flowers or anything from anyone on Valentine's day. I felt free from obligation and expectations.

Many of my friends say the same things about Valentine's day - that it is a commercialised affair, that in a real relationship, you do not need to prove your love to your beloved on one particular day of the year. And yet - these are the same people who will spend/have spent thousands of dollars on another love ritual - their wedding.

Of course, some might argue that you can't possibly compare a wedding with Valentine's day. After all, the former is a once-in-a-lifetime thing, while the latter is a meaningless commercialised affair. But I cannot help but wonder if the nine-course dinners, elaborate photo shoots, exorbitant gowns and open-for-all invitations are simply an extrapolated form of ... wilting flowers.

After all, isn't the marriage more important than the wedding?

But who am I to say this, since I still harbour dreams of a picture perfect wedding? Then again, perhaps those dreams will change, just as my notions of valentine's day have changed.

Singing

I was alone at home tonight, and I started singing a worship song out loud, singing from my gut, the way I sing when I used to lead worship, with every word rising out and up, every word a prayer and a part of an on-going conversation.

I missed it so much.

I miss singing aloud to God.

Why have I stopped?

The night before...

Tomorrow is that day that the O Level results are released.

This is the day that most graduating class teachers dread most, because our education system has become so warped that students' results are now largely attributed to teachers' performance rather than students' efforts. While I agree that the quality of teacher does make a difference, I find the direct (and over-) correlation quite perturbing. The post-analysis of results always seem so .. accusatory.

Tonight, I feel surprisingly calm. Maybe it's because I know I did what I could with my two classes. Maybe it's because I have become more confident and more skilled as a teacher, and I do believe that I did value-add to my students last year.

I remember that I felt like absolute shit during the results release last year. Completely guilt-ridden. The kids did badly, and i knew that i had not done my best as a teacher either.

Yet one year down the road, all of them have found suitable educational paths.
I think I have tended to underestimate the resilience of people - and the grace of God.

Delayed reactions

There’s actually quite a lot of admin work waiting to be cleared.. but here I am blogging..

It seems that I’m suddenly surrounded with people who are in the throes of emotional turmoil. Two have romantic issues, one is being bullied by a colleague and one student burst into tears when I asked her about her home financial situation.

My encounter with the student was rather telling. When she burst into tears, I had really wanted to comfort her by patting her or leaning over. Instead, I went into automatic pilot mode of objectivity. Immediately, I started listing out the reasons she should not feel ashamed. I adjusted my tone of voice to ‘comforting’ and I did my best to use reason to calm her down. The same thing happened when someone close to me had a major quarrel with her partner. The first thing I did was to let my reason take over.

It’s a marvelous mechanism, to always be able to remain calm in a crisis.. yet last night I could not sleep. I wonder if my emotional mechanisms are a little stunted or numbed.

It’s odd. People who meet me expect my drama-mama mode to flare up and think that I will behave hysterically during disagreements. But I never do. I just have a delayed emotional fall-out. I’m thankful.. yet I wonder if it’s entirely healthy.

Hmm.

Dissonance

For no obvious reason, I felt terribly down earlier today.
(Is it the time of the month? asked A. No dear. )

Dragged my feet all around the school, trying to sift through reasons why I would be feeling this way. Hormonal imbalance? Chemical imbalance from meds I've been taking? Spiritual attack? All possibilities.

As usual, trying to use my brains to get around my emotions and dissect them to oblivion. I should have learnt by now that it doesn't work.

After sending an SOS sms to A and E (hahaha.. A&E so funny!!!! )
E sent this back - 'The art of losing is not easy to master. Loss is but a constant reminder of our vulnerabilities and very often, dissonance within.'

So wise my friends. =)

In any case, did the bimbotic thing and went shopping with my sisters. The mindless picking and choosing (lingerie sale!) alleviated my mood somewhat, as did a good chat with my rather distant elder sis.

But tonight, as I process the emotions of the day, I'm thinking of the verse -
'... sanctify Christ as Lord in your hearts, always being ready to make a defense to everyone who asks you to give an account for the hope that is in you, yet with gentleness and reverence..'
1 peter 3:15

Apparently, there are supposed to be people grabbing me and demanding to know why I have the hope that is within me.

How is it I am not living my life with this hope?

I seem to be mucking around playing at being a Christian while the hope of Christ is not in me. In E's words - we are all self-masturbatory creatures - all intent on satisfying our own desires first and foremost.
Sometimes, the words of comfort and advice I give to others ring hollow to me, because I depend on my wit and experience and barely on the Spirit of God as I live out my life, conduct my affairs and theorise.

Maybe this sadness is indeed dissonance - not due to the minor loss I am experiencing - but something more to do with questioning my very cerebral approach to my spiritual life.

13 Therefore, prepare your minds for action, keep sober in spirit, fix your hope completely on the grace to be brought to you at the revelation of Jesus Christ. 14 As obedient children, do not be conformed to the former lusts which were yours in your ignorance, 15 but like the Holy One who called you, be holy yourselves also in all your behavior; 16 because it is written, "YOU SHALL BE HOLY, FOR I AM HOLY." 1 Peter 1:13-16

Mahjong meditations...

Chinese New Year – gambling time.. Thus far, I have made about 150 bucks on mahjong.. a happy bonus! =)
I find that a way a person plays mahjong says a lot about his or her character.

I was involved in a high stakes game the other day with some older folk. My uncle’s mood got progressively darker as he kept losing. His remarks were cutting, and because I was the youngest at the table, he chose to vent his frustration on me. This is a man who,at rest, is full of good humour and the life of the party.

I learnt two things –
1) people who gamble for the money and not the pleasure are digging a deep deep hole for themselves. This is the reason why my parts of my extended family have been in ‘cold wars’ for protracted periods.
2) People who can’t laugh at themselves and their own mistakes shouldn’t gamble.

This second point was further emphasized when I played with some old friends the other day. It was painful to watch one of my friends play. She’s always been rather anal (I mean that with affection), but this translated into her being unable to let go of useless cards or make split-second decisions. When the stakes got higher, she would tremble or start cursing, thus giving herself away. But more than that was the .. joylessness of the process. Every game started with ‘I hate my cards’ , or ‘Sucks’ or…
.. but I thought the whole point of mahjong was to build build build… After a while I could sense she didn’t even want to play anymore..

But if we can’t even enjoy our games, how can we enjoy our lives?

Mathew 6:24 - No man can serve two masters: for either he will hate the one, and love the other; or else he will hold to the one, and despise the other. Ye cannot serve God and mammon.

1 Corinthians 10:23 - All things are lawful, but not all things are profitable. All things are lawful, but not all things edify.