my angels.

i believe God loves me so much He sent me angels to guard over me. therie believes the writer in me more than i myself do and is like the conduit between me and God when i get lost in the world. my companion and prayer warrior. grace was the first to speak to me about God in my life and recommends to me the best deals in town (trust me, she knows absolutely the best). my informant. serene is the only friend whom i can memorise BOTH her home no. and handphone no. and recite when i speak in my slumber because of the number of years we chalked up just talking to one another over the airwaves. my evolving half. tzing is the sort of friend i smile at whenever i think of her because she's just special to me; spirited and quirky (yes she HATES the Q word but it's a compliment). Hwee is my dreamer counterpart but we're completely opposite in flavour; she's passive and practical. i'm active and floaty. we keep each other dreaming and grounded at the same time. my paradoxical counterweight. Ching is a constant in my life from rg days till now. her never-changingness protects my authenticity as a person.

other pple are less regular in frequency in my life but special nevertheless. Ling is my grand-friend; we promised to remain friends even when we become grandparents and will make our children befriend each other, no matter what it takes. gas chamber, anyone? ;) Kel is the only guy i have no qualms with to ring him up and hang out. KC is forever calling and sms-ing me to complain, inform and gossip. jian has an apt sense of humour that's very endearing.

and yes my Nav gang. they're the sort you will call up if you're kidnapped, because you know they'll pray so hard they'll move the heavens and the kidnappers :D

quiet silence

she always believed in the need to be conversational, especially with those closet to her heart. it's almost like the crusade to bare one's heart is one that she lives for, a born psychoanalyst who instinctively protects the emotional well being of all those within 1m proximity to where she's breathing. Love, to her, is a warm and engaging conversation that can last into eternity; not necessarily of words, but of music of the soul in resonance with one another, of silence that echoes out into the deep, of musings and sighs that are shared and understood. which is why, she knows and understands God's love and her love for God. not intellectually, but with the heart and soul. perhaps that's why, etched in her mind is the image of a boy, silent and slightly awkward, always watching her from afar, not daring to draw near. they share a knowing smile, and then part ways. they see each other from the corner of their eyes, never quite making the connection. they pluck up the courage to speak to each other, not of words but of music. the heart, speaking much louder than the sum total of all the words exchanged between them.

being alive, with colours and individuality

i'd very much rather stare at the computer till my eyes hurt than actually sleep when i'm dead tired since 2.5 hours ago. i know i deserve all the dark eye rings and eye bags in the world but too bad i'm endowed with youth and not-bad genes and those things don't get me so easily. right now i'm just thinking about how to use an eyeliner properly to get a rather sweet gothic look like the girl on the far left of the picture. (i don't really care very much about the other rather pointless pair of pictures.) makeup is my new love ever since starting temp work. it changes the way you look, but more importantly, it changes how you feel. it's a beautiful colourful day when i look through my 12-colour palette of eye shadows and decide whether to be a lilac butterfly or a brown racoon. it captures my imagination and expresses my creativity; yes, all in the process of choosing colours and styles to present to the world. makeup does not equal vanity my dear friends. they are like the colours of the rainbow to enthrall and inspire, the paint colours on the palette of a pensive artist to translate the overflowing reservoir of heaven in his breast. if art is spiritual, so must the trade of beauty creation be.

On a more intellectual tone, i have been reading Affluenza by Oliver James to satisfy my book hunger. how can i ever live without books and ideas?

besides the aesthetic reason of how i adore the cover picture of 2 zombified beautiful city dwellers, what Oliver expounds in his book about the Virus-infected English speaking cities (including Singapore) is superbly interesting. Sadly, Tzing was not too impressed nor intrigued when i was sharing (albeit a little too briefly) about his finding about how focusing on being beautiful rather than attractive is much healthier and more intrinsically motivated and hence gives you better emotional well being. well, it's common sense to know that you're always happier when you're not trying to please everyone in the world, but i've never truly separated being beautiful from being attractive. most people, like me, will probably intuitively think that they are one and same. he raises the very poignant example of how Russian and Danish women are the most beautiful in the world (seriously, i never knew that before reading the book but apparently, it's a known fact in the Western world.) but miniskirts and low cut tops are not found in their fashion encyclopedia. think individualistic, personalized, tasteful clothings mixed and matched that DON'T cost $60 a piece, mass produced in Zimbabwe and shipped over to Zaras and Mangoes going on sale in Singapore. i've always been disgusted by the state of fashion in Singapore. I'd rather dress plainly in clothes that are flattering for me and feel comfortable than trash my money on clothing that are skimpy, overpriced, mass produced and devoid of personality. Oliver's theory is that Russian and Danish women, unlike the Virus-stricken (materialism) women in developed cities, have learnt to express their beauty and creativity in their appearance, instead of using appearance to impress others or to attract men. this is why their beauty radiates from within.

Pretty cool thought huh? Oliver writes much better and interestingly of course. and every page reads like a vaccine for myself and helps me to dig deeper to discover what is truly important to me and authenticity ranks tops. To be true to who i am, what i feel, what i think, what i believe, to all those who cross my path and whose paths i cross. of course, that presupposes a simultaneous process of improving that authentic self; less selfishness, less materialism, less pretense, less hedonism, less directionless, less introspection. work in progress, that's what i am.

And don't ask me why i address Oliver James by his first name. i don't want to tell you that i neurotically treat all good writers as my personal friends. shhhhhh.

the diving bell and the butterfly (1)

why movie posters can look scandalous and irreverent to the spirit of a film eludes me. but it was a good film, which made me fall in love with French all over again and it nourished the lingophile in me. I love the beauty of the monologue Jean-Do recites in his solitary diving bell and can only metaphorically weep at my incompetence and his confinement; that i could only read the translated English form, like listening to Chopin Waltz No. 69 through the fingers of a mediator.

I got my hands on the book the next day, that i may savor once again, the resonance of the quotes which tugged at my writer soul. I wish i could rave more on the film tactics, but i was too wowed by the subtitles to give due attention to cinematography. that would take a separate viewing. i promise to fulfill my irreproachable role as an amateur film critic.

the first film that we watched together and might be the last for now, as seul, he takes off to France.

taking stock

a long time since she's been here, a poignant reminder of how long she has been a member of the living dead. She still is a drifter in every sense of the word; a traveller, a wanderer, a pilgrim of suppressed hedonism, a sprinter who exhaust her lungs in every surge of forward movement - never has been a persistent marathon runner. Her attention has been fleeting in other areas; shutting out the listening ear of the attentive doctor beside her as the charismatic pilot presses in for her number. Why not? her internal monologue rationalises away her 3 minute interest in anyone at all.

for the longest time she has been sick of her raven hair; the overdue sunburst colours haunt her every day, in the reflection of a glass, a mirror along the shopping windows. The memory and desire taunt her unceasingly: How much longer will you live a partial life?

the dazzling colours of the city lights of New York provide a wisp of dreamy remembrance these days, as she relives the sensation of the cool Times Square night on her skin and the buzz of people roaming the city that never slumbers. so sweet yet so short; they had to leave before the subway fails them in the wee hours of dawn. how she wished she insisted on watching the warm hues of morning light envelope this city inch by inch. Manhattan, the sleek sort of man she knew she'd fall in love with - long enough for a summer and deep enough to harp on for years after. Perhaps, fond memories will fail her when they meet again, but nostalgia remains bittersweet; like the dark chocolate she well savors.

she starts to wander once again, in her invisible cities she is once again free to roam, free to create, free to dream. no more mirrors and no more promenading.

series of unforeseen happenings

a whole whirlwind of unexpected happenings caught me off guard, and i feel i've finally been set free from a ship anchored in a wrong place for far too long. the nautical miles are dropping steadily as i start afresh on my little make shift raft and continue to sail in this vast space called LIFE. Much to do, but top of my list to really live because life really is too short to eat bad food, work in an office, maintain the status quo, be afraid of change, suppress my wildest ambitions and to live carelessly. This realization came as i was in the midst of grandma's funeral service over the weekend as people scurried around to take care of matters ostensibly for a dead person but whom will never grasp the meaning of all this fuss and bustle as her shell lies silently in the coffin.

And life, is too full of possibilities to box myself in or to tell myself NO or MAYBE out of fear. Seize the present, for it is called a gift for a reason. There is much to do, much to hope for, much to imagine, much to explore, much to seize and treasure. This realization came when Glenn told me he's taking a week's leave to go and see France all by himself after this semester of French class ends. makes me want to go with a new sort of urgency, i admit.

who am i to be

Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate.
Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure.
It is our light, not our darkness,that most frightens us.
We ask ourselves,who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous,talented and
fabulous?

Actually who are you not to be?
You are a child of God.
Your playing small doesn’t serve the world.
There’s nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won’t feel
insecure around you.
We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us.
It’s not just in some of us; it’s in everyone.
And as we let our own
light shine,we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same.
As we are liberated from our own fear,our presence automatically liberates
others.

Nelson Mandela in his 1994 inaugural speech

a buoy floating, bobbing, drifting. without a routine to channel my thoughts and energy through, my soul senses something amiss. i can't seem to figure out my purpose for being alive and without a definitive sense of destiny, i've no idea what to take interest in. Should i take a course in singing because i love it or should this endeavour be pursued only if it is profitable for my future in some tangible way, only if i'm sure? Should i even dare to dream to be travelling the world and doing sth that i absolutely love and knowing for sure in the deepest of my heart that this is it?They always say, you need to be doing something you love, as a reprise from the demands of life. but i can't make something i don't love the main anchor of my life in the first place. but what is it that i love? I don't seem to have the determination to follow through with my dreams. almost always bound by a wisp of fear, a dose of i-don't-think-i'm-good enough and maybe-i-don't-want-it-enough-anyway. i ask for a little more tenacity in my personality, a much more confident of who i can be.. i'm transiting already, i just have to find out where i want to be soon.

fresh new start.

The world collapsed in its entirety, that i might once again make a fresh start. a long awaited break from the present, a long awaited clean slate to build my existence upon. with no foreshadowing you said with such cheekiness that you have found someone and i could only match the twinkle in your playful glance. Something collapsed within, but i believe it was a start, not an end to what could be. I'm moving on to be a new me in transition, thankful for the simultaneous heartache and lightness of being. a fortified heart is useful in such times, i just wish that my eyes were as obstinate.

my reprise!

the tragically unemployed has finally found gainful employment in a fabulous events management company. stay tuned for absolutely superficial gushings and thoughts :)

http://raediant.wordpress.com/

retreat with the lover of my soul.

what we do for Navigators' retreat is all 13 odd of us sitting in the conference room, practicing listening prayer as we deliberate over what God is telling us about the past sem and the direction for the coming semester. And God never fails to meet us and He always speaks the same to all in different ways and when we share, faith arises and we are sure of God's leading. To many who haven't gone through the rigour, it may all seem a little mystical, but for me, each retreat/Nav camp is an oasis in the desert that refreshes my soul as i get connected to God to hear His prayer for His people, especially those in NUS. I'm very excited and moved at how God has revealed to us His plan for the Nav community and NUS. Especially when I shared what God has been speaking to me about prayer, it resonated with the rest and we all had agreement in the spirit. We meditated on Isaiah 41,43, 58, of which God also said Isaiah 43 is for Therie dearie as she starts her internship :) (hope first day of work went well! -waves-)

God spoke with regards to sending rivers and living waters in the desert, sun-scorched place. It was both for my personal journey, as well as for campus revival in NUS. it's all wondrous, but not crystal clear yet, just an inkling of how the journey will be like.

suffice to say that i am understanding what it means to love, and love which i thought had died has died only to be resurrected in a new form. I was perplexed, but God said to forget the former, for He is doing a new thing, do i not perceive it?

kyo

Everything's fine on the French side, found a new French band, Kyo to listen to.

Qui Je Sui ( Who am I)


C'est ma faute (It's my fault)

the stubborn old tree.

the tree shall stop telling the gardener that the pruning hurts the branches too much and stop screaming and kicking for the pain to go away because the whole point of pruning is to make the tree more fruitful. life goes on with that kinda pain even if it really really hurts alot and no one else knows how much. and life, will go on much better after the old branches finally die and new branches and hope take their place. The weight of the pain can better anchor the roots, nourish the leaves and give a newfound courage to the complacent tree. it will all be fine. No need to scream, no need to wave the remaining branches flagrantly for the gardener to watch out lest he cuts the wrong branches. seriously, he knows better. who are you, o tree, to advise the gardener?

nostalgia once again.

i was trying to reorganize summer photos from last year on FB coz i realised that i had named a folder "Yale University" instead of University of Connecticut. But who'd really know right. Still, it's a perplexing mistake. Looking at the photographs make me nostalgic. I was just thinking of all the friends in US; Heidi, Carl, Vogel and all the peeps from Evil class. Even the dudes from Investigative Journalism, though we didn't get a chance to get closer. Missing New York's dynamism, New Haven's rusticity, Boston's refreshing spirit. The stoic Harvard, the dignified Yale. And of course all the crazy people along the way.

Somehow looking back the me a year ago was so un-apt at making full use of my experience there, too timid to live it to the fullest, too hesitant to seize the moment. I was too reticent and self conscious to do alot of crazy things. Maybe that was part of self discovery too, to see all the flaws and be dissatisfied with how i have lived. I'd hope that this summer i could travel around UK or Europe, though it is not to be. Nothing else to be said except a long sigh. Maybe the key lies in not being greedy and living with an extra dose of self contentment.

Where to go from here? I must learn to stop looking back fondly too much lest i miss the road ahead once more.

fatigue.

i am dead tired from 3 hour Film Art exam in the morning and French class at night. bleah. why do i get the feeling that everyone else is enjoying their post exam celebrations already? I still have a paper tomorrow! Oh gosh.

We were doing phonics and the alphabet tonight and man was it borrrrrrrrrrring. the take home is that i can recite the alphabet in French now. yippeee. bestest achievement of the year. C'est Ca. Glenn was nice to talk to as usual on the way home but i was less chatty tonight because of overwhelming fatigue. But one thing i learnt about doctors is that they really signed their life away on the dotted line. His schedule is KRAZY for a 26year old. If i were a doctor i think i will eventually adapt to a life of only patients and rounds AND MINIMAL SLEEP but the fact that i will have to give up time with family and friends and hobbies is just... unimaginable.

the sailor.

There is the story of this sailor who experienced a terrible shipwreck at sea. He climbed upon a raft and set his course based on the stars since he has learnt to navigate from the stars.

Yet for the next 28 days, the clouds cover the sky every night and he is uncertain whether he remains on course or whether he is doomed.

The question is had the sailor set his course right? The message of the constellations - had he imagined it because of his desperate circumstances? Or he had seen the truth once, and now had to hold on to it without further reassurance?

B student.

"B-students don’t know everything about anything and are excellent at nothing. B-students, however, know something about a lot of things, and they can complete almost any task with some modicum of success. Entrepreneurs are B-students. There is no one thing they do well. But there are many thing they do well enough.

A-students, on the other hand, know a lot about one thing, whether it is technology or marketing or sales and finance. And they do this thing extremely well. If they don’t do it well, it bothers them. A-students want to do things perfectly all the time. This is a very bad trait for an entrepreneur, but a very good trait for a manager.

The most important thing to realize when you’re a B-student entrepreneur is that you need A-student managers. You must listen to them. You have no choice. The good news is that A-students must also listen to B-students, because B-students know about aspects of life and business that A-students know nothing about. While most A-students are really good at one thing, they tend to be completely out to lunch when it comes to most everything else. On the other hand, B-students are really good at being sort of good at everything.

The sooner the B-students and the A-students understand and appreciate each other, the more productive everyone will be."

I'm so B-weary this semester that i actually googled "B student" to make sense of my rather unfortunate predicament. What can i say, except that i'm so tired of studying and examinations, yet terrified at the prospect of having to find a job because securing an interesting internship is proving to be harder than imagined. I think the problem with me is that i'm neither an A or B student; i straddle between both and my butt hurts warming the fence. I'm secure in neither camps and there's an agitation within, esp so during examination season. But i think the problem runs deeper. It has to do with knowing my station in life and what I'm called to do and wanting to know WHAT'S OUT THERE. I'm tired of my books. I want to experience the real life, much as i still enjoy student status. (think of all the student rates you're paying everywhere and be thankful). But this is a poignant ouch! because my cardinal sin is pride ->

"The number one killer of start-ups is when entrepreneurs confuse ‘being lucky’ with ‘being smart.’ You must possess the humility to distinguish one from the other.

Is this a cool book or what. I want to be a poetic but shrewd entrepreneur in life.

Accidental Francophile.

I was a little jittery for my first French class at Alliance Française ; it felt alot like the first day of school (well it is) with no friends and no expectations save for a desperate prayer that it will be fun. And fun it was. Although I've gotten the impression that the French ain't very outwardly friendly people; it seems that all their passion is locked up in the oasis of their hearts and bursts forth only at measured intervals. And of course i remembered to pray that i will make ONE new friend to brave it with me and viola! I met Glenn the doctor 2 years into his training. He's really a kind doctor and stays near my place. yippee.

Here's the essence of what i've learnt today; i shall attempt to revise:

A: Bonjour!
B: Bonjour!
A: Ça va?
B: Ça va bien, merci! Et vous?
A: Ça va bien, merci! Comment vous vous appelez?
B: Je m'appelle Weiting. Et vous?
A: Moi, je m'appelle XYZ.
B: Enchante.
A: Enchante.

The beauty of learning a new language is that it is all very novel, like discovering a whole new world like a newborn baby; curious to describe everything with one's very limited vocabulary. and Thank God for my Panasonic voice recorder! I've come to realize that audio revision of classes are very helpful for audio moi. yippee. Life is fun even in the midst of exams. I've never felt so slack during exams; mainly because both Film Art and Contemporary Political Theory are open booked exams and having been consistent through the semester, I don't really need to prepare anything. C'est la vie.

The decision to take up French was quite an oscillation,even though i have seriously decided to take up a third language; as a diplomat needs to be versatile. Nothing's set in stone but i want to be equipped as long as my heart is still set on it. My loyalties were however divided because i've already started on Korean on my own (yes due to my own drama-and-DBSK complex) and a new attraction to the Japanese Kanji. But after a long deliberation, i finally decided that in terms of intellectual and cultural richness, diplomatic value and romanticism, French comes up tops. yup so i'm on my way to be an Accidental Francophile. exciting.

Au Revoir!

On being young and idealistic.

Everyone's young days are a dream, a delightful insanity, a sweet solipsism. Nothing in them has a fixed shape, nothing a fixed price; everything is a possibility, we live happily on credit. There are no obligations to observe; there are no accounts to be kept. Nothing is specified in advance; everything is what can be made of it. The world is a mirror in which we seek the reflection of our own desires. The allure of violent emotions is irresistible. When we are young we are not disposed to make concessions to the world; we never feel the balance of a thing in our hands - unless it be a cricket bat. We are not apt to distinguish between our liking and our esteem, urgency is our criterion of importance; and we do not easily understand than what is humdrum need not be despicable. We are impatient of restraint; and we readily believe, like Shelley, that to have contracted habit is to have failed.

To be young, is not to be disposed to be a conservative. He could have said it in a succinct sentence but no, Oakeshott lapses into his own nostalgic musings on being young. The first time i read his "On Being Conservative" i was bored by his longwinded illustrations of each point he was making. A second attempt at deciphering his conservative mind was much smoother as i picked out a gem of a passage which i liked. All it takes is a slice of apt writing to perk me up. Likewise for the "basic" political science-y piece by Max Weber:

Politics is a strong and slow boring of hard boards. It takes both passion and perspective. Certainly all historical experience confirms the truth - that man would not have attained the possible unless time and again he had reached out for the impossible. But to do that a man must be a leader, and not only a leader but a hero as well, in a very sober sense of the word. And even those who are neither leaders or heroes must arm themselves with that steadfastness of heart which can brave even the crumbling of all hopes. This is necessary right now, or else men will not be able to attain even what is possible today. Only he who has the calling for politics who is sure that he will not crumble when the world from his view is too stupid or too base for what he wants to offer. Only he who in the face of all this can say 'In spite of it all!' has the calling for politics.

In class, i disagreed with Prof Pellerin over Weber. I saw this is an inspirational text to budding young politicians, while he saw it as Weber writing a cautionary passage as pouring a cold bucket of water over the heads of political science students; that their flames of romantic idealism about politics must go. Much as I can see Pellerin's very poignant point, my personal response is that of being inspired, whether or not i have the calling for politics. But of course, that might be because i'm too young and too idealistic and am still walking around with my rose-tinted glasses over my rose-tinted contact lenses. The prerogative of being young.

i think i'm hitting rock bottom. All of a sudden jolted out of my comfort existence into a darkness so deep. My head tells me it'll all turn out fine my heart is bleeding dry. It's as if i had a premonition; to tell a friend to trust God and then to find myself in a position to be rejected over and over this season. I don't know what to do either. I'm going to drown in my internal flood of tears for now.

Gracious Uncertainty

April 29, 2008

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. . . it has not yet been revealed what we shall be . . . —1 John 3:2

Our natural inclination is to be so precise— trying always to forecast accurately what will happen next— that we look upon uncertainty as a bad thing. We think that we must reach some predetermined goal, but that is not the nature of the spiritual life. The nature of the spiritual life is that we are certain in our uncertainty. Consequently, we do not put down roots. Our common sense says, "Well, what if I were in that circumstance?" We cannot presume to see ourselves in any circumstance in which we have never been.

Certainty is the mark of the commonsense life— gracious uncertainty is the mark of the spiritual life. To be certain of God means that we are uncertain in all our ways, not knowing what tomorrow may bring. This is generally expressed with a sigh of sadness, but it should be an expression of breathless expectation. We are uncertain of the next step, but we are certain of God. As soon as we abandon ourselves to God and do the task He has placed closest to us, He begins to fill our lives with surprises. When we become simply a promoter or a defender of a particular belief, something within us dies. That is not believing God — it is only believing our belief about Him. Jesus said, ". . . unless you . . . become as little children . . ." (Matthew 18:3 ). The spiritual life is the life of a child. We are not uncertain of God, just uncertain of what He is going to do next. If our certainty is only in our beliefs, we develop a sense of self-righteousness, become overly critical, and are limited by the view that our beliefs are complete and settled. But when we have the right relationship with God, life is full of spontaneous, joyful uncertainty and expectancy. Jesus said, ". . . believe also in Me" (John 14:1 ), not, "Believe certain things about Me". Leave everything to Him and it will be gloriously and graciously uncertain how He will come in— but you can be certain that He will come. Remain faithful to Him.

Indeed, a place of uncertainty. The Lord was with me during the interview but He hasn't granted me Birmingham this summer. Uncertainty. I still have no idea what I'll be doing this holidays. It's still blank on my calendar. Suddenly French and new exercise regime seem a tad lacklustre and chances for an internship with MFA uncertain as well. No ideas for a thesis topic. Uncertainty. On top of that, I'm in mild shock right now because IPE paper was hard. You know, one of those papers you spend the whole of study break preparing for and it's still hard for you. I think i need to rest from the slight trauma. I can only trust and be faithful to do what is closest to me. Day by day by faith.

New goal for the year.

Is it just me or does Avril Lavigne really have the most beautiful and versatile hair? It's going to take my hair eons and alot of enviable determination to grow till that kinda length and even so, my Asian hair will probably never look as fabulous as hers. But still, i have nothing to lose by trying; i could save a fortune on hair non-maintenance as it grows out of its current multi-layeredness. Argh. I really want thicker hair from now on.

glam curls part 1


glam curls part 2


Straight hair - that's kind of boring though.


even a casual pin up looks gorgeous on her.

Musical Lyrical

My favourite Chopin piece thusfar.I love the to-ing and fro-ing of this waltz piece alot. Exuberant and yet reticient. Like a shy dancer with all the passion burning inside her as she bursts across the room.


Absolutely beautiful and hopeful piece by Italian contemporary composer, Ludovico Enaudi :)I'm learning to appreciate music just as it is, without the translation of lyrics or words. Just as it is. Just as I am.

love and marriage.

Despite the little faith that is in me, i've come to recognize that i have a genuine fear of marriage. I cannot bring myself to say that I'm ready for marriage blah. Although there are alot of Christians who believe that dating HAS to lead to marriage, and say easily that they're ready and just waiting to meet the right person, to me, the barrier to dating is huge enough to block out the view of the larger barricade of even considering marriage down the road. That kind of internal struggle to even acknowledge my liking towards any guy is epic; let alone to say i can love. it seems that i've still quite some way to go before i can take even a dating relationship lightly and with carefree ease.

A dear Nav sister has already been chronically depressed over BGR woes for a year plus now. Her best years in university are being wasted away as she is unable to let go and let God. Swinging over to the other spectrum are friends in relationships who are so inward-looking and absorbed with one another that we're drifting apart. Dad doesn't talk at all at home now and he's starting to be like a stranger to me. Mum doesn't talk about it but i cannot even begin to imagine the kind of alienation she must be feeling. Isn't this an absolutely frightening sequence of events? To be depressed over your singlehood -> Shut out the rest of the world when you're attached -> then live out the belief that you're trapped in a loveless marriage. It's utterly disconcerting. Granted, not all relationships are this dismal or take such a progression, but the possibility of it is scary.

I'm so tired of seeing all these negative relationships. God show me Your goodness manifested in relationships. A swinging Christian single loving, fearing, serving you. A Christian dating couple loving, fearing, serving you. A Christian married couple loving, fearing, serving you. All joyously and completely devoted to You.

scream.

the sound i hate most, is the sound of screaming. of people screaming at one another, of a mother losing control of herself and screaming incessantly at her children. I was rudely distracted by a mother screaming at her child in the neighbourhood close to 11pm. i couldn't really make out what the crying and pleading child was screaming, but the mother just kept going, "I need to go to work now!" over and over, and the heartwrenching cries of the child continued. The mum was screaming so hysterically that there were instances when the screams were noise without words. Bloodcurdling. I thought there might be murder soon. One whole hour of that drama.

I found myself clenching my fist as i hear the screams continue, in part out of fear, in part out of anger. Whatever can justify this display of frustration?

I find it very hard to forgive mothers who emotionally abuse their children. Very. I have almost a hatred for that kind of irresponsibility. A child who grows up with this kind of abuse, even if it was only for a night, will bear the scars of it deep within the heart for the rest of his or her life. The trauma of it all is irreversible. If you are a parent, you have every responsibility to love your child, whether or not it was your choice, whether or not it's your biological child, whether or not you feel up to it. I'm very upset.

This is yet another reminder that when the time comes, I want to be a good mother. A mother who loves, a mother who disciplines, a mother gentle with her children but strong in the Lord.

Rediscovering You.

I feel like i'm rediscovering God in my life. He's always there but I feel that i've been busy introspecting my life that it slipped my mind that all my troubles and thoughts are only a prayer away from getting clarified and given direction. It's funny how i'm able sometimes to remember it's God carrying me through work and deadlines but forget that it is also He who will take care of relationships, my heart, my friends, my family. I was calibrated back to God's plan for my life yesterday.

One thing that i'm learning is that God wants me to seek Him. Very fundamental statement to make, but very profound implications for living daily. The quote from James in the previous post is a written promise that whatever we ask God in prayer, He will show us the way. Whether to do this or not. Whether He will lead this way or another. Sometimes, it's not an immediate answer, but as long as we continue our path, consciously open to His leading, it will be crystal clear that His hand is at work.

I sense God's leading me to University of Birmingham this summer. There were alot of human factors why i would not go, but God is divine and much more resourceful than I am. Would you pray with me for His provision, and most important, that my faith in Him will continue to grow. With Him in my life, i have nothing to hide, nothing to prove, nothing to lose.

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James 1:5-7

If you need wisdom—if you want to know what God wants you to do—ask him, and he will gladly tell you. He will not resent your asking. But when you ask him, be sure that you really expect him to answer, for a doubtful mind is as unsettled as a wave of the sea that is driven and tossed by the wind. People like that should not expect to receive anything from the Lord.

my blue shadow.

a pervasive fear of drifting, never able to find all that is right, never finding an anchor point to set my roots deep in. the word i fear most is compromise, because i do it so instinctively day-to-day. always willing to settle for less, always willing to give others the benefit of doubt, always willing to sya "it's ok, i'll settle it", always preparing for the burial of a new ideal, always willing to let a new resolve slip because it takes effort to maintain. The greatest fear is that it becomes a habitual character flaw to compromise and make do with, because of fear of disequilibrium, fear of loneliness, fear of delayed gratification which might not come. the schizophrenia persists daily, between the opposite personas of the compromiser and perfectionist. It is a catch 22 situation when there is no satisfaction, no perfect equlibrium, a state of pendulating.

i really need you to be stronger than me in every way.
i really need you to be steadfast and constant, even as i permutate.
i really need you to be the anchor, even as i hesitate.
i really need you to exist...
my blue shadow.

bodytalk.

I was talking to CJ at length yesterday and she said some things that got me thinking. She shared with me how she's keeping to a diet and exercise that she might lose more weight, because her ideal woman is magazine-model slim. She explained that every woman's ideal woman-to-be is different; whilst other women value intelligence and seeks to increase their knowledge to be the ideal woman in her mind, her ideal woman is of that physical build and hence she has no qualms about working towards it. Just as how some women value and appreciate her curves, she values and appreciates "petite", even if it might mean being "flatter".

I think it's fine to love gyming. i do. I think it's fine to gym towards an ideal body type. i do hope to achieve that. But i'm hesitant to say that it's a purposeful purpose in life. A fantastic and healthy body is an important subset of living here on earth now (because it is the temple of the Holy Spirit), but it cannot be the basis for day-to-day living, because this body we have is only temporary. I shudder to think that before the throne when Jesus asks me what i did with my time here on earth as His child i would to say "eh, i diet-ed, worked and gymed". How different would i be from people who don't know Him? How am i to reflect His Glory and be His light and salt when all i am preoccupied with my cocooned existence?

Juxtaposition

I'm glad i can finally "release" my film paper now that submission's over. i heart it alot, because I "sense" the writing flow, even more coherently than they were in my mind as i crafted it. Writing to me, is more than a set of words, sentences or paragraphs strung together. It is a very beautiful and elegant woman, articulate in her longings and pensive thoughts, sensitive and sincere. Every time i start on something, it's like knocking on her door and asking her what she has to convey. Going deeper and deeper into her pensive thoughts and emotions. By the time a piece of satisfactory writing is done, i feel that i have connected with and understood her. Weird as it may sound, t's a living relationship.

“Write an essay that discusses Chungking Express in relation to In the Mood for Love, or In the Mood for Love in relation to Chungking Express. Your essay should be centered on one or a few key points. Your essay must also contain some discussion of Wong’s use of the film medium in the two films.”

Wong Kar Wei’s films invoke a sense of déjà vu; an evocation of romantic longings and fleeting chances. Juxtaposing the two films, one finds Chungking Express (CKE) idiosyncratic, whilst In the Mood for Love (ITMFL) nostalgic to the point of being larger than life.

The Concept of Time

Love vanquishes time. To lovers, a moment can be eternity, eternity can be the tick of a clock. -Mary Parrish

In CKE, the sense that time is moving forward is strong. The monologue of 223 reveals an obsession with time and remembrance; each centimeter of contact is recounted, each minute a significant marker of time. There is a positive anxiety to capture memories and time; a “canning of time” in order to capture the meaning of what has transpired in his life. The story of 633 is less relentless in its pursuit of time, but the blasting music “California Dreaming” constantly reminds us that Faye’s utopia has not yet come and behind the fast food counter, she is in a state of waiting. Even when Faye breaks into 633’s house, “Dreams” replay each time, giving us a premonition that something is waiting to happen.

ITMFL on the other hand, slowly ushers one down the memory lane nostalgically and leaves one unable to leave it. Time is almost static in ITMFL, with a looming clock that has no second hand to signify the passing of seconds. Time moves in blocks of moods rather than units of minutes, with Lizhen’s dazzling array of cheongsams as the only significant marker of time in the story. There is the stylistics to reinforce the languid pace; the tracking camera that follows Li Zhen up and down the steps with her thermoflask gives a nostalgic significance to the moment. Shot in slow motion, the whirling, tendril-like cigarette smoke from Chow dances against the light hauntingly and bids the audience to remember the smoke, to remember the wistfulness of that moment. The timelessness of memory pervades.

Emotions.

Events in our lives happen in a sequence in time, but in their significance to ourselves they find their own order the continuous thread of revelation.

-Eudora Welty

The use of slow motion in both films highlights the emotional state of the characters relative to the world around them. If 633 was lost in melancholic thoughts after being jilted, Li Zhen was trapped in loneliness with her husband’s absence. In CKE however, the presentation is more literal; 633 drinks black coffee at a snail’s crawl in melancholy as the world around him rushes forward. The same cinematic technique is used more subtly in ITMFL as Li Zhen’s slowed-down, stretch-printed ascent and descent along the stairway with thermoflask in hand, as well as her languid graceful movements near the mahjong table as she mingles with others; exemplifies her loneliness despite the activity and people around her.

Another dimension to the slowness of events portrayed is Kundera’s secret bond between slowness and memory, where slowness is directly proportional to the intensity of memory.[i] The inter-title at the start of ITMFL sums up the mesh of unspoken emotions, raw longings and misty sight of the past in Chow’s memory.[ii] Chow’s memories of meeting Li Zhen at the noodle stalls, enjoyable times in 2046, and pensive moments in his newspaper office are all slowed down and savored. The intensity of 633’s memory of his failed relationship is likewise represented in the extreme slow motion of his coffee drinking. For 223, time is stopped altogether to mark the significance of the moment where he bumps into the blonde and Faye.

In both ITMFL and CKE, close proximity does not mean emotional closeness. The characters get close enough to the point of touching, but not quite. 223 recounts his “0.01cm” distance from the blonde and Faye respectively with a matter-of-factness; Li Zhen and Chow similarly brush past each other along the narrow corridors and stairways, with an air of quiet reticence between them. In CKE, the emotional distance was that of alienation as people are lost in their internal thoughts, whilst the repressed behaviour and emotions of Lizhen and Chow are as much a result as social decorum and respectability as Lizhen's unwillingness to be like their spouses, who have gotten into an extramarital affair. The irony is that Lizhen and Chow were slowly falling in love too, albeit in a waltzing pattern of “Perhaps, Perhaps, Perhaps”, but their love is unconsummated and therein the beauty of a mood for love, forever embalmed in memory.

Attire in both films hence becomes a vehicle for emotions and passions to be expressed; consequently, restraint of attire is a reflection of restrained emotions. The more carefree attire of 223 and Faye is a contrast to the prime and proper 633, where in public space, his hair is always immaculately combed and shirt tucked in. The blonde is always decked in her wig, sunglasses and raincoat. The duo finds emancipation from their restraint by the end of the movie segments. Symbolically, 633’s shirt is un-tucked when Faye comes back from California and the blonde drops her wig after murdering her lover. Along a similar vein, attire in ITMFL reflects the required restraint of passions in 1960s Hongkong[iii] and both Chow and Li Zhen have their hair and attire immaculately in place throughout the movie, juxtaposed with a less formal and promiscuous Ping. However, emotions are never emancipated for the couple; Li Zhen remains composed as tears roll down her cheeks in room 2046 when she realized Chow had already left for Singapore.

Hence, the voluptuousness of emotions in ITMFL that reside within the characters bursts unto the colours around them. “Unbearable nostalgia”[iv], that of knowing the inevitable death of one’s love, is hence imparted to the vivid colours of Lizhen’s cheongsams, the bedsheets of Chow’s room, even the colours of the aged walls. Those colours are reminiscent of a time charged with pent up emotions, a time that was more colourful in Chow’s memory than what actually was. They lure the modern audience into believing that the 1960s had more vibrant colours, more life. Rather than an accurate portrayal of the real 1960s, it is perhaps more fittingly, Chow’s subjective memory of a wistful past. Emotions in CKE are similarly displaced onto inanimate objects and rituals. 633’s melancholy from being dumped by his air stewardess girlfriend is displaced onto his bar of soap, rag, soft toy. 223 creates a ritual for himself (buying cans of pineapples with an expiration dated 1 May), imparting much emotional tenacity to a senseless activity. Faye’s adoration for 633 is similarly displaced onto her routine of cleaning up 633’s apartment. Both Faye’s break-in into 633’s house and Li Zhen’s break-in into Chow’s apartment in Singapore is a metaphorical and oblique way of moving into the heart of the man they yearn for, because both lack the courage to bring their feelings to fruition. When dreams threaten to come true, Faye puts it on hold by escaping to California. Li Zhen on the other hand, remains silent on the phone even as Chow waits for her to speak.

Space

Love is space and time measured by the heart. –Marcel Proust

In CKE, the high density of the whirling mass of faceless people who surround the characters and crammed spaces[v] creates a deep sense of alienation. ITMFL however, is reminiscent of a time where people were crammed together in a claustrophobic space and forming a community where they borrow newspapers from each other and have meals together. Characters are always negotiating crammed, narrow spaces and corridors. The spying camera places the audience as a voyeur and neighbour, always behind something, peeking in and eavesdropping in a living space with high human density. The only time that Li Zhen and Chow could be free from prying eyes and chatter is during their dinners together and thereafter, along the lonely night streets that were stripped of other people or street furniture. Even on the broad streets however, they are frequently shot behind the barred windows and in a cab, maintaining them in a claustrophobic space, signifying their trapped existence in a close knit community where tongues wag at the slightest misstep one makes.

At the same time, space is presented as a repository of memories. The occasional empty shots of the street lamp, the common corridor between the two families and the empty street void of people long after the characters leave. The space takes on a life of its own, inviting the audience to fill in the elliptical gaps in the story. Lizhen walks past under the street lamp and after a short delay, Chow walks past in the opposite direction. Will they meet the next time they pass through? The street lamp seems to ponder as the original score carries the characters through the space. True enough, they do, as the rain patters down against the light from the street lamp.

Juxtaposition

CKE as as forward-looking and hopeful as ITMFL is nostalgic and wistful. The stories might be different, but underlying them, Wong's distinctive themes of memories, chance and regret remain the same. The concept of time, display of emotions and use of space echo these themes in the two films.

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[i] “There is a secret bond between slowness and memory, between speed and forgetting. Consider this utterly commonplace situation: a man is walking down the street. At a certain moment, he tries to recall something, but the recollection escapes him. Automatically, he slows down. Meanwhile, a person who wants to forget a disagreeable incident he has just lived through starts unconsciously to speed up his pace, as if he were trying to distance himself from a thing still to close to him in time… the degree of slowness is directly proportional to the intensity of memory; the degree of speed is directly proportional to the intensity of forgetting” (Kundera, Milan. Slowness. Trans. Linda Asher. London: Faber and Faber, 1996. pg 35-35)

[ii] It is a restless moment.
She has kept her head lowered,
to give him a chance to come closer.
But he could not, for lack of courage.
She turns and walks away.

That era has passed.
Nothing that belonged to it exists any more.

He remembers those vanished years.
As though looking through a dusty window pane,
the past is something he could see, but not touch.
And everything he sees is blurred and indistinct.

[iii] The landlord lady criticizes Lizhen for wearing beautiful cheongsams “just to get noodles” and the boss finds the new tie by his young mistress too flamboyant.

[iv] The “unbearable nostalgia” describes a situation in which, even though one’s beloved is present, one sees no future, or “your beloved’s death is, invisibly, already present”. (Kundera, Milan. Identity. Trans. Linda Asher. London: Faber and Faber, 1998)

[v] Both 223 and 633’s apartments, Midnight Express Chungking Mansions are all crammed spaces.

political theory

I do not believe in the absolute determinism of history. On the contrary, I believe that all life, and consequently, the life of hstory, is made up of simple moments, each of them relatively undetermined in respect of the previous one, so that in it reality hesitates, walks up and down, and is uncertain whether to decide for one or other of various possibilities. it is this metaphysical hesitancy which gives to everything living its unmistakable character of tremulous vibration.

"The Revolt of the Masses" Jose Ortega y Gasset

this is my life. The life of a political theory student labouring under the force of contemporary ideas of what public life means. It is intellectual acrobatics and it is labour, but the consolation is that these ideas are rejuvenating even at this time when i'm re-reading them and trying to fit them into a coherent paper. The greatest gift of work to me, is to be continually inspired by what i'm learning and processing.

a cold heart in the heat of the summer.

a posture of yearning, yet privy to none that might pry.
a picture of perfection, yet frozen in fear.
a position of despair, yet too weary to be calibrated

goodbye.

Last Political Theory class. We took a class photo!
There's something about being in an Honours Class; everyone kinda knows one another and when the music fades and the last dance's over, everyone still lingers on the dance floor to catch the last wisp of nostalgia. And boy, was it an awesome dance. Much humour, laughter, idiosyncrasies and intellectual debates. I'm really thankful for Dr Pellerin and how he insisted that we hold discussions after he lectures even though there were protests. It really facilitated learning, interaction and friendships.

CS wrote me a letter because it's the last time we will meet each other whilst he is still an undergraduate. i'm really quite touched. Thank God for friendships. He has been a good senior and brother-in-Christ to me; both of us believe that God has been deliberate in making our paths meet. As a believer i do think that everyday of my life is orchestrated by a loving and sovereign God, but it's usually more acute in certain relationships than others. I know that CS will go forth as light into the world :)

I think RL Boy said "i think i'll miss you" before we parted but i'm not sure. Or i'm pretty sure he said it but i'm disbelieving that he would say something like that directly. He's been a friend, despite a certain degree of discomfort on my part. Till now he's pretty much still a stranger whose motivations i do not fully grasp but i always choose the side of humanity and friendships over schemes and evil intentions. Yes, there is the sinfulness of man and the deceitful heart to contend with, but by and large I believe the human race is capable of good, because God is good. I'm getting ahead of myself by talking in such macro, moralistic terms! I just pray that one day he will come to know Jesus as the only way, truth and the life. I believe it's tiring for agnostics who think through theology thoroughly and yet find no satisfactory conclusion. After class RL and i would usually hang out but today i decided to lunch with Vania to catch up with her. She's such a perky and likable girl to be with.

I remember saying how lonely i was last semester and i prayed specifically for God to bring me more friends. And He did! I feel like i've a whole new wardrobe of them. Whatever it is, i still thank God that He has put all these different people along my path this season. I've learnt and grown much and I believe it's to prepare me for greater Glory that's in Him.

goodbye, till we meet again.

The Prophet. On Love.

Then said Almitra, "Speak to us of Love."

And he raised his head and looked upon the people, and there fell a stillness upon them. And with a great voice he said:

When love beckons to you follow him,

Though his ways are hard and steep.

And when his wings enfold you yield to him,

Though the sword hidden among his pinions may wound you.

And when he speaks to you believe in him,

Though his voice may shatter your dreams as the north wind lays waste the garden.

For even as love crowns you so shall he crucify you. Even as he is for your growth so is he for your pruning.

Even as he ascends to your height and caresses your tenderest branches that quiver in the sun,

So shall he descend to your roots and shake them in their clinging to the earth.

Like sheaves of corn he gathers you unto himself.

He threshes you to make you naked.

He sifts you to free you from your husks.

He grinds you to whiteness.

He kneads you until you are pliant;

And then he assigns you to his sacred fire, that you may become sacred bread for God's sacred feast.

All these things shall love do unto you that you may know the secrets of your heart, and in that knowledge become a fragment of Life's heart.

But if in your fear you would seek only love's peace and love's pleasure,

Then it is better for you that you cover your nakedness and pass out of love's threshing-floor,

Into the seasonless world where you shall laugh, but not all of your laughter, and weep, but not all of your tears.

Love gives naught but itself and takes naught but from itself.

Love possesses not nor would it be possessed;

For love is sufficient unto love.

When you love you should not say, "God is in my heart," but rather, I am in the heart of God."

And think not you can direct the course of love, for love, if it finds you worthy, directs your course.

Love has no other desire but to fulfil itself.

But if you love and must needs have desires, let these be your desires:

To melt and be like a running brook that sings its melody to the night.

To know the pain of too much tenderness.

To be wounded by your own understanding of love;

And to bleed willingly and joyfully.

To wake at dawn with a winged heart and give thanks for another day of loving;

To rest at the noon hour and meditate love's ecstasy;

To return home at eventide with gratitude;

And then to sleep with a prayer for the beloved in your heart and a song of praise upon your lips.

More of The Prophet.

space in togetherness.

“You were born together, and together you shall be forevermore.
You shall be together when
the white wings of death scatter your days.
Ay, you shall be together even in the silent memory of God.

But let there be spaces in your togetherness,
And let the winds of the heavens dance between you.

Love one another, but make not a bond of love:
Let it rather be a moving sea between the shores of your souls.

Fill each other’s cups but drink not from one cup.
Give one another of your bread but eat not from the same loaf.

Sing and dance together and be joyous,
but let each one of you be alone,
Even as the strings of a lute are alone though they quiver with the same music.

Give your hearts, but not into each other’s keeping.
For only the hand of Life can contain your hearts.

And stand together yet not too near together:
For the pillars of the temple stand apart,
And the oak tree and the cypress grow not in each other’s shadow.”

- ‘The Prophet’ by Kahlil Gibran

What a beautiful rendition of love, one that has said all that is to say about love. Give your hearts, but not into each other's keep, for only the hand of Life can contain your hearts. stand together yet not too near together, for the pillars of the temple stand apart, and the oak tree and cypress grow not in each other's shadow. This is love as God has created and there is so much beauty in it. spaces in togetherness, because there has to be room for God. I'm inspired and awed.

unbearable phonecalls.

why are couples so mushy and disgusting? Don't tell me it's sour grapes. it's true that they talk and act different around each other. my sister never talks to me that way. i get incredible goosebumps listening to my sister's mushy phone conversations almost every night. to imagine it's only one side i'm hearing and it's already so unbearable. eeks. And i'm always playing the irritating "younger" sister making gagging noises and pretending to throw up whilst she goes on and on. eeks.

the grass is not greener.

My current favourite text is The Constitution of Liberty by Friedrich Hayek. He's a lucid and matter-of-fact thinker with amazing writing. But i'm mentioning him because i'm borrowing an interesting term that he uses in explaining how inequality breeds progress. It's only when people are unequal that the more well-endowed is free to have experiments in living, which will lead to civilization's progress. because of him, my young idealist socialist tendencies have waned a little. i think it's a good thing to adjust one's beliefs once in a while when one knows so little. the beauty of being a green horn in life. but i've to move on to the meat of this post, which is far more trivial and interesting.

A thought that left an imprint on me a couple of years ago was during my time in City Harvest, when this male friend, in explaining the phenomena of a pretty cell group leader bring hordes to church each week, gracefully said, "U know why? It's because no one would mind a pretty friend." Whether or not you are a believer you would agree to going to church because you have eyes on a certain someone is a little dishonourable. But of course it's not a sin and God does miracles even with wrong motives of the heart. I started off with mixed motives myself. But the point is not in the churchgoing phenomena or religion, but it is that the very matter-of-fact statement has deep social meanings embedded in it. being the overlooked, prideful, imperfect, envy harbouring, insecure female that i was (and still am), i was of course a little offended by this little fact of life.

A few years of pondering and experiments in living, I've come to the (i hope, humble) conclusion that i have perhaps managed to take a peek at the other side of the field and it's not that greener. In fact, it has a lot less vitality and pure vibrancy with all that pollutants in the air. This semester especially has been a slight change for my shell, pulling off a little more glamour and glitter just for a change. And I have noticed slight differences in how people treat me. Look deeper, they are not slight differences, but more accurately, superficial differences. A different group of people take the initiative to talk and posture to make an impression. I'm simultaneously taken more seriously and more frivolously. (well, usually frivolously until i open my mouth to prove that i am not an airhead.) I am now utterly convinced that i will never be impressed with a male hunky (usually superficial of course) airhead in the long run. In many ways i'm still vulnerable to being taken in at the onset by beauty but give me a few weeks (okay, sometimes months) when the character shines through, there's no way to hide and God shows me how empty the way of the world is.

I know this sounds like i'm enlisting into a nunnery of some sort. But you know what i mean. Everyone has met eye candy material who turns out to be that and nothing else. Candy that does not satisfy true hunger. I saw the look RL Boy exchanged with his male friend and i knew it was some immature male ego thing going on. I'm half reminding myself not to be offended by this act of female objectification but it's still not a comfortable thought.

If nothing else, this experiment of living has shown me the value of depth. and it truly weighs heavier than fluff.

Zardo's streets.

Veurnes Street in Belgium

Bruxelles Street

by Zardo, a new fav.

I love his shots of empty streets. The skewed lines and looming presence in the Veurnes shot is breathtaking. It's one of my favorites. The warmer lighting in Bruxelles Street seem to be one of the rare gentler shots that he takes. the stoic gothic buildings are always juxtaposed with the sky and tormented clouds, which give them a breathe of majestic life.

i'm alive!

it hit me that living the eternal life means that my entire being is so exciting and different from the rest of the world. i'm constantly seeking God's will and God's way in every aspect of my life and the reality of it grounds me and gives me strength and joy even in the midst of the most arduous trials and journeys. I can learn so much about myself and my future one day, just talking and keeping the communication lines between me and God open. I'm seeking God for my calling although i think deep down i might still be scared to receive it. It's a trust issue at the root of it; whether i have enough faith to trust God that His calling for my life is the best for me. My mind knows the answer, but my heart has to be fortified to be made vulnerable. Sounds a little paradoxical huh. But i believe that Jesus has to fortify my heart with faith because i have so little of it.

On Love and Marriage

What we call "being in love" is a glorious state, and, in several ways, good for us. It helps to make us generous and courageous, it opens our eyes not only to the beauty of the beloved but to all beauty, and it subordinates (especially at first) our merely animal sexuality; in that sense, love is the great conqueror of lust. No one in his senses would deny that being in love is far better than wither common sensuality or cold self-centredness. But, as I said before, “the most dangerous you can do is to take up any one impulse of our own nature and set it up as the thing you ought to follow at all costs”. Being in love is a good thing, but it is not the best thing. There are many things below it, but there are also things above it. you cannot make it the basis of a whole life. it is a noble feeling, but it is still a feeling. Now no feeling can be relied on to last in its full intensity, or even to last at all. Knowledge can last, principles can last, habits can last; but feelings come and go. And in fact, whatever people say, the state called “being in love” usually doesn’t last. If the old fairy-tale ending “They lived happily ever after” is taken to mean “They felt for the next fifty years exactly as they felt the day before they were married”, then it says what probably never was or ever would be true, and would be highly undesirable if it were. Who could bear to live with that excitement for even five years? What would become of your work, your appetite, your sleep, your friendships? But of course, ceasing to be “in love” need not mean ceasing to love. Love in the second sense – love as distinct from “being in love” – is not merely a feeling. It is a deep unity, maintained by the will and deliberately strengthened by habit; reinforced by (in Christian marriages) the grace which both partners ask, and receive, from God. They can have this love for each other even at those moments when they do not like each other; as you love yourself even when you do not love yourself. They can retain this love even when each would easily, if they allowed themselves, be “in love” with someone else. “Being in love” first moved them to promise fidelity: this quieter love enables them to keep the promise. It is on this love that the engine of marriage is run: being in love was the explosion that started it.

People get from books the idea that if you have married the right person you may expect to go on “being in love” forever. As a result, when they find they are not, they think it proves they have made a mistake and are entitled by change – not realizing that, when they have changed, the glamour will go out of the new love just as it went out of the old one. in this department of life, as in every other, thrills come at the beginning and do not last. The sort of thrill a boy has at the first idea of flying will not go on when he has joined the R.A.F. and is really learning to fly. The thrill you feel on first seeing some delightful place dies away when you really go to live there. Does that mean it would be better not to learn to fly and not to live in the beautiful place? By no means. In both cases, if you go through with it, the dying away of the first thrill will be compensated for by a quieter and more lasting kind of interest. What is more, it is just the people who are ready to submit to the loss of the thrill and settle down to the sober interest, who are then most likely to meet new thrills in some quite different direction. The man who has learned to fly and become a good pilot will suddenly discover music; the man who has settled down to live in a beautiful place will discover gardening.

This is, I think, one little part of what Christ meant by saying that a thing will not really live until it first dies. It is simply no good trying to keep any thrill: that is the very worst thing you can do. Let the thrill go – let it die away – go on through that period of death into the quieter interest and happiness that follow – and you will find you are living in a world of new thrills all the time. But if you decide to make thrills your regular diet and try to prolong them artificially, they will all get weaker and weaker, and fewer and weaker, and you will be a bored, disillusioned old man for the rest of your life. it is because so few people understand this that you find many middle-aged man and women maundering about their lost youth, at the very age where new horizons ought to be appearing and new doors opening all around them. It is much better fun to learn to swim than to go on endlessly (and hopelessly) trying to get back the feeling you had when you first went paddling as a boy.

an apple a day.

In great need of encouragement, i decided to be apple fairy today and encourage 2 other people. My heart still weighs heavily within me, but regardless.

Would you say that it is a rude awakening to realize that there's no one to completely understand you, someone who's always on your side? This hit me this week pretty hard, but it's part of the human condition - to be imperfect people who might sometimes let neglect and competition slip into our relationships with one another. I shall not dwell on that. CS Lewis believes that it is possible to love our enemies, just by looking how we love ourselves. there are days that you don't like yourself, but you still love yourself all the same isn't it. therefore there are times when i don't like my friends, but i can love them all the same. and there are going to be times i won't like my future husband, but i can continue to love him. how profound.

on that note, there's an acute sense that there is an Eve in me. I do need my Adam, though i've sometimes wondered if I was going to remain single. I need someone to walk through this journey and grow with me. I don't think i can go it alone. I'm of the persuasion that there is a RIGHT person. all political correctness aside (like you should think of being Miss RIGHT instead of pondering over the possible existence of Mr RIGHT), i do believe that there is someone out there who's more right, than others, for me. someone i can live with the rest of my life and i won't doubt if i made a right choice by choosing him above all the other zillions of male specimens out there. And of course, to have that person think the same of me. but of course, substitute male with "female" please. i don't know if there's only one of such a person and I don't really think it's important, as long as i will meet someone right eventually. all the other generic questions won't matter.

a dash of sanity.

the constant need to run away from intentions and manipulation of others bears fatigue on my fragile inner self. the command is clear; to flee, or encumbrance or disillusionment will upset the balance of the world around me. You would have thought that all this waltzing near and running away was an indication of something positive. of charm or attractiveness. but in reality it constantly echoes the reminder that one does not get what one really wants and has to flee from all the wrong people to protect the sanity of the heart. another taunting reminder of how willing everyone around me is to compromise in order to fill the void inside them. how detrimental to the growth of an idealist who'd like to be a protected innocent sheep without the need to be shrewd as snakes.

but the state of running away is not a comfortable existence. Have i been ordained to run? I just want to get lost in my thoughts. Even if all is deliberately made unclear and vague by others and i play along, my heart is still sober minded. what an irony. But yes, my heart has started to develop a mind of its own, with thought process and archives of memory, experience and guidelines to govern how i feel. What an evolution that should set my feet dancing; no one could have foreseen it. leave me alone, i just want to be found by the right person. don't remind me of all that is wrong in the world.

Five Loaves and Two Fishes

A little boy of thirteen
was on his way to school
He heard a crowd of people laughing
and he went to take a look
Thousands were listening
to the stories of one man
He spoke with such wisdom,
even the kids could understand

The hours passed so quickly
the day turned to night
Everyone was hungry
but there was no food in sight
The boy looked in his lunchbox
at the little that he had
He wasn't sure what good it'd do
there were thousands to be fed

But he saw the twinkling eyes of Jesus
the kindness in His smile
and the boy cried out
with the trust of a child
he said:

"Take my five loaves and two fishes
Do with it as you will
I surrender
Take my fears and inhibitions
All my burdens, my ambitions
You can use it all
to feed them all"

I often think about that boy
when I'm feeling small
and I worry that the work I do
means nothing at all

But every single tear I cry
is a diamond in His hands
and every door that slams in my face
I will offer up in prayer

So I'll give you every breath that I have
Oh Lord, you can work miracles
All that you need is my "Amen"

Take my five loaves and two fishes
Do with it as you will
I surrender
Take my fears and inhibitions
All my burdens, my ambitions
You can use it all
I hope it's not too small

I trust in you
I trust in you

Take my five loaves and two fishes
Do with it as you will
I surrender
Take my fears and inhibitions
All my burdens, my ambitions
You can use it all
no gift is too small

You know, I was just sad with my 5 loaves and 2 fishes. I asked God why He gave me such little capacity; why i could write well but my critical analysis skills lacking. Why other people were better than me at excelling at what they do, whilst i seem to drift a little. Why other people had the endurance to sleep little and accomplish much whilst I am cranky and distracted when I'm hungry or sleepy. Why can't I be the epitome of efficiency and shut out people around me when I want to get work done? I heard this song and that sadness gave way to realization that my God is loving and I am precious in His sight. What He delights in is not how well i perform relative to others, because the five loaves and 2 fishes were exactly what He had portioned for me. Every idiosyncrasy, every strength, every weakness, every smile and frown He knows, because He formed me. What He delights in, is I offering up my five loaves and two fishes in trust, even when I don't know what He will do with it, exactly when I know that what i have is small. God is much bigger than i think He is.