Self Speak

The spoken word is our most powerful weapon. The words we speak are like magic spells or chants, and just like spells or chants it must be completed to achieve manifestation. The catch is that we do not know when the spell or chants ends, and the only indication are the manifestation. If a person keeps saying to others that he is tired, guess what kind of spell is he invoking? It is no surprise when you next speak to him he actually looks and feel tired. In fact his lethargy might even spread to you.
Our self-speak are spells we cast upon ourselves, what we tell ourselves frames how we see the world and shifts our focus. If we keep telling ourselves that the world out there is full of dangers and that it is better to stay in our comfort zone… oh comfort zone, that’s another entry all together, then we will let every opportunity to stretch ourselves bypass us.
When you tell your child or your sister or brother that they are stupid or slow, over time guess what, they will come to believe that they are slow and stupid. But just as this is a force for destruction it is also a force for good and change. If we speak positivity to others around us, we will empower their spirits give them hope and a reason to dream.
I believe strongly in this, and it is my greatest weapon. Self-Speak helps generate belief, and we must always believe in ourselves. No one would believe in us unless we first believe in ourselves. Who do you believe in?

Post Christmas Thoughts

It is my experience that the eve of Christmas or New Year is always more happening or exciting or worth looking forward to then the actual day itself. Why? I am inclined to think that it is the anticipation that excites us humans. The thought of an arbitrary day, infused with so much social meaning to the point that it will spill over into madness. The frenzied shopping, the mad rush, the packed schedules of friends and family members all contribute to the “anticipation”.
Everything dies down after the countdown is over. When the party poppers have been popped, and the champagne devoured people retreat home where the slide back to reality ensues. The actual day is always far less exciting as compared to the countdown day. It was just like that for me, packed to the brim, sleeping 4 hours ever day and suddenly on Christmas, it was Church in the morning and a Christmas lunch party at a good friend’s house.
What inspired was what happened in the evening. A friend smsed me a merry Christmas message and ended with a suggestion to meet up after Christmas. Seeing how Christmas evening was the only evening I got I decided to fast forward the catch up to that evening itself, and that’s what happened.
My friend was feeling so many mixed feelings during this festive season. We talked and I pry and pried trying my best to help my friend come to terms. After we finished our drinks, I felt terribly helpless. Why? Because I felt I didn’t make a drop of difference at all. Why, because I am only one person.
It is my experience that people are social creatures, and hence much of our self worth and value comes from external validation. It was like that for me at one point, but I have evolved from that very narrow thinking, now I self generate energy to sustain my sense of self. But others have not yet reached that level, and I feel for them.
As social creatures, sometimes we place too much weight on the opinion of others and we forget that the most efficient way to change the opinion of others is to change ourselves from within first. Human lives are built using social relationships as beams and bricks. Some beams and bricks form core pillars that sustain our sanity, mutual Love and Respect serves as the mortar that binds our inner life. But we are not made of such inanimate objects, relationships are like cells, they are our building blocks, they are alive, they grow and they die. My friend could not understand this simple concept, her pain on Christmas day was more than what anyone should bear on such a festive season.
One day, I will be strong enough to protect and lift all those who are important to me. One day

Outsourcing Laziness

Today I would like to share one of my guiding principles when it comes to helping people. Everyone is entitled to their own opinions and over the years I have come to the personal conclusion that humans are social creatures and their potential can only be maximized when they assist or “help” each other. No one will stop you if you want to get an iphone 4S without data plan, but to maximize its potential, a data plan would be a good idea. No one said that humans cant live alone, but having healthy relationships with others would be a good idea.

We have helped many people throughout our lives, sometimes we end up with a warm fuzzy feeling inside, other times we often feel underappreciated or worst feel cheated for lending assistance. Sometimes we help others only when they ask for assistance, other times we take the “initiative” to help others even without them asking for it. Silently thinking in our hearts that aiding without being ask is somehow a more premium type of assistance compare to if one is asked to aid. I will not address specifics, contextual, circumstantial or hypothetical situations, instead I will introduce a concept to assist the decision make process.

“Outsourcing Laziness” occurs when someone summons for assistance because he or she lacks the *discipline to execute the task according to acceptable standards or even going through the motion itself. Note here that the individual is both able and possess the time to bear the task him/herself but instead decides to off load the task(s) to another individual or group. Here the person is considered as “lazy”, this “lazy” individual would than via discourse, rhetoric, deception or any other means outsource the task at hand to another person or group to commence or complete.
As a principle, social human beings in my opinion should always and without fails aid and assist those who are unable to aid themselves, as long as one is able to aid, one should aid. Note here also that ability or able-ness is not narrowly defined as physical ability but also takes into consideration time. If one is physically or intellectually able but pressed for time, he or she is considered unable as well.

Let us consider a scenario, I am a person who always aids others unconditionally and I consistently assist two individuals, one who outsources laziness (Thomas) and other who is unable to aid himself (Jason). Over time, Thomas would take me for granted because he knows that even without me he still can execute the tasks, and in all likelihood continue to enjoy my services and become even more lazy himself. But James, who is clearly aware that he is unable to assist himself, would value and appreciate me. At every opportunity, James would try to find a way to take on the task himself so that he can be independent. Should that happen, he would be able to free me and I would be glad that I helped me and both parties would walk away feeling positive. Even if he is unable to replace me and I end up aiding forever, he would likewise forever be appreciative and goodwill will be generated.

But for Thomas, the vicious cycle can only be broken by me, the aider and not the aided because at the core of the issue, the intention is destructive. I am being exploited by Thomas, and over time I will feel underappreciated and sore, soon I will break the cycle on bitter terms and Thomas would have to find another to outsource his laziness to.
My examples are mono tasked, overly simplistic makes heroic assumptions about the nature of humans. But operationally I find it useful, aid those who cannot aid themselves, reject the call for assistance of those who summon you because they were too lazy to do it himself. Goodwill cannot be found in aiding those who seek to exploit the good nature of people, whereas it can be found in abundance when aiding the unable.

Time is our most precious resource, why? Because it is a non-renewable resource, it is limited and each of us does not know how much of it we have. Be selective about who and how we are spending this resource on. The synergy of “who” and “how” creates a tinted lens over our mind’s eye, affecting how we see other human beings. Spend time helping the unable and you will find that your life is full of appreciative people, spend time with people who exploit you by outsourcing their laziness to you and you will find yourself surrounded by crafty foxes.

So… what are you doing with who later?

*Here discipline is conceptualized as the quality possessed by a person to execute actions considered undesirable by the person.

Hugs

It's better to miss her than to miss her scent,

when you know her scent,

it means you two were once close

Videos

Some of the best videos i have seen on youtube.

Promise me ?

A good deed

I helped execute a surprise birthday party recently. Basically i got our friends together and went to her place and surprised her. It was more complicated, that was the idea. What was interesting was, one hour before the surprise was to be pulled, she texted me and asked if I was free to hang out. I knew that all her friends are not going to respond positively because… I have contacted them all and arranged for them to meet me. But it must have felt quite bad if everyone you called during your birthday said that they can’t make it. She must have felt dejected. But… that was my doing.

When we all surprised her, she was visibly touched. During the course of the evening she expressed her thoughts to me and even messaged me the next day telling me how she felt.

It felt good to have made someone’s day, or in this case, someone’s birthday. She might forget this birthday in light of the many other birthdays she will have with her other friends, her family and one day with her own family. But for me, I was just grinning as I made my way home.

I didn’t give her any present, my only expense was a birthday card. All her friends thought that the design was bad and said “Vernon why did u choose that? It doesn’t even have the words happy birthday on it”. Why? Because I thought that it would be a design she liked, and I was right. The next morning she text me telling me that she really liked the card and that I really know her well enough to have chosen such a design. What was my expense? My time, my single most precious resource, a resource even I do not know how much of it I even have, and yet I am giving and giving it away.

Time is one’s most precious resource, it is relationships’ most potent fertilizer, we never know how much of it we have, we can never lose a moment or gain a second. Time is a powerful servant and a merciless master, govern Time or be governed by it.

Knowing a person is a rewarding experience, I can attest to that fact. I believe in the few over the many, the quality over the quantity. Over the course of various relationships we have with people in our lives, every once in a while we connect with them, we touch their lives in ways we cannot imagine. That night was one of those nights, I helped a friend who was feeling lonely and left out to suddenly feel like she has the best friends in the world, I helped a girl fill an empty evening with unexpected laughter and cheer. That night was one such moment. I do hope I get to create such moments again, and I am sure I will.

it came around

Here it is, my FAVORITE PENCIL

A few days ago I brought grandpa to the hospital again for a post-hospital stay checkup. The check-up included a blood test all in the entire whole visit took 3 hours including a 90min wait for the blood test result.

Naturally I brought a book to read, and a another pencil to take notes. After I arrived at the hospital went through the admin process and sat down and took out my book, I reached into a pocket in my bag and as if my magic, my fingers curled around my favourite pencil. Its been in my bag this whole time. The strange thing was I don’t remember putting the pencil in that pocket, and to top thing off, during my search for my pen I went through my whole bag including that pocket. As far as I am concerned, it was a small miracle.

Being the overly thinking guy that I am, I had to over analyse things so here it is.

I went back to my last blog entry about losing my favourite pencil and read it again. It was true, the lost was real to me, even though the pencil was in my bag the whole time the loss was very real to me. At the bottom of my heart, I “knew” that it was lost to me forever, and I accepted it. We accept or reject based on emotion, and we justify by reason. This is the reason why so many smart and intellectual people are not happy, they are not addressing the basic human drive, emotion. They have an overdeveloped brain and a premature heart. But that’s not the point, I am ranting again. Back to my pencil, I knew that it was lost to me, and I accepted it. I moved on and started to use another writing instrument. At the back of my head, I swear I said to myself, now that I have reached the end of my education, I guess this pencil has run its course and the time has come for me to part with it.

When my fingers touched the pencil in my bag, I didn’t even need to take it out and look at it, I just wrapped my fingers around it and knew that it was my pencil. The feel of the plastic, the smooth rubber grip, the broken clip, the hole at the top of the eraser cap, I knew them all by touch. I even know how it smells like.

My mind started to fantasise, I imagined my pen after being dropped on the floor of the MRT, started an amazing journey to find its way back to my bag, back to my grip, like Toy Story 1.

So here is my though for the day, during the course of our lives, there will be episodes and events, people and persons who appear, walk in, walk out and disappear. We can try our best, be vigilant, like how I was with my pencil. But we cannot always be vigilant, and we are bound to slip up, as I have when I was tired and taxed. But my pencil came back to me, even after I have lost hope. If its meant to be, no force in the universe can make me lose this precious pencil, if its not meant to be, then no force in the universe can keep it in my pencil box.

Re-reading this post, it really sounds like I am over dramatizing a small incident. That I forgot I have left my pen in that pocket and I was not careful in checking my bag. The incident was simple, but what went on in my head space was far from simple, I came to terms with my many loses in my life, both material and non-materials, my mistakes and carelessness. And when the pen knew that I have learned my lesson. It came back to me, because now I am worthy of a 10 year old mechanical pencil.

I lost my favourite mechanical pencil

It has been a tight past few days. I am burning through books and running around doing my errands. Today spent all day at JB with my brother attending a seminar, it was really worth it I felt. The speaker was entertaining, funny and informative. I have learned much this weekend.

But alas, on my way back via MRT I was reading a book on the train. I was already stretched out and I was having 2 sms convo at the same time. Finally when my stop at novena arrived I made special not to keep my phone which was on my lap and my book. As I stood up and walked off I felt like I have left something behind and I kept checking my wallet and my handphone. It was my pencil that I was using to highlight which rolled off onto the floor of the MRT and I walked away from it focus on something else.

I stole that pencil when I was in sec 3 and has been with me for 10 years. Its pink with a yellow easer cap. It sat through every exam with me since then, and I feel very attached to it. In my moment of weakness I did not check properly. I only found out when I came home and emptied my bag.

I sat down thinking of all the material items I have lost… I lost 2 sets of home keys, a handphone and now this … my favourite pencil. Even though I was so attached to it, even though it has been with me for so long, and I expected myself to get worked up over it. But nothing happened, I just looked into my bag and thought… “oh … that’s too bad”. Kept the bag in my cupboard and sat down and picked up another pencil.

I felt such a strange feeling. I guess I have really changed a lot since I stole that pencil. I have gone through so much in the last 10 years I could easily write a book on it. Looking back, I guess I would arrange my books in chapters based on what I had to give up or let go in my life. At one point I gave up the hope that I would be a good looking guy so I started to harness other energies. At some point I gave up on trying to be an artist when I was 14, amongst other things.

Slowing and gradually life dealt me heavier and heavier hands, these hands weighted heavily on my principles. Soon I have a clear vision and sense of right and wrong and I have not looked back since.

When I realized I lost my favourite pencil, my mind went autopilot, framed it as inconsequential and flushed it out of my mind. When I hard to be harsh to one of my friends, my mind warped reality and I saw it as something I had to do to protect us and I said what I had to say without guilt.

Almost anyone can be extreme and give up everything for something, but it is my maxim that it take a mature mind to have priorities and keep to them, to be aware that our actions don’t only affect us but those who love us and embark on the most responsible path for other ourselves and those we are accountable to.

I lost something dear to me today, but to let it affect me would be irresponsible. Consider the long term, the bigger picture and one’s principles and one will be a more astute mind.

Why Singaporeans complain so much

In one sentence, I think Singaporeans complain so much become we have an overdeveloped sense of entitlement. I am a sociology major, hence I personally tend to favour the nurture over nature argument. I hardly think anyone can possibly be born with an innate sense of entitlement. This sense of entitlement was ingrained in us by our parents, school and our government.

Our generation was born in the good times, into a country what had such standards for quality. Standards which we have come to take for granted and come to be almost invisible to us, so blind are we to our high standard of living that you have to go to other developing country to feel the differentiation. I did not have to fight a war for my country’s independence; I was born “free”. My girl friends did not have to fight for their right to an education or to vote, I never had to be afraid of other race and he never needed to fear me. We were born into a world which was cushioned, we were given but it was not our entitlement, we were blessed but we did not deserve it.

Since I could remember, I was told by my parents that I must study hard or else “next time” I will be a road sweeper or other such mediocre professions. When I entered school, I saw how the better students were given different treatment because of their position in “class”. So interesting that in school we are grouped into classes, its psychological training I guess to prepare us to accept out place in society when we enter as adults. Better students don’t have to go for remedial classes like me, they get more recognition by the teachers, more respect. Lesser students like myself make up for it by being attention seeking and talkative. Better student were awarded prestige based on their position within the system, we were shown that there were “entitled” to such treatment based on their grades. Social forces like demographical backdrops did not matter; socio economic class did not qualify as an influential element in one’s performance as student. It did not matter that you have to share your computer with 3 other siblings so you can read up on the net, it did not matter that you didn’t have a place to study because your father keep singing KTV during crucial study hours of 7-10pm or even a fixed place to keep your books. I kept my books in a cardboard box when I was younger.Nothing matter but your position in class, your position entitles you to its rewards everything before your ascension did not matter.

When we enter the employment of the biggest employer in Singapore, the Civil service our reimbursement was pegged to my GPA. As if how well I did for Basic German contributes to my competencies as a CPF officer, it does not matter how many dependents I have, all that matters is my position determined by a collection of alphabets averaged out into a figure rounded to 2 decimal places. But by this point in time we have already internalized positions within institution are legitimately allocated certain rights. Our depravations are heighten by being reminded how much those with positions are endowed and how we will be further depraved if we did not keep pace.

It is this overdeveloped sense of entitlement I feel which makes Singaporeans complain and complain. Some can even complain that the seniors working at MacDonald’s are slow. I mean come the fuck on man, try working at 70 in a fast food joint which did not exist in your era that serves stuff you never ate in your life nor like to eat with arthritis in your bones and cataract in your eyes thickening.

We complain of low pay for graduates... we expect a certain level of pay just because we are more fortunate than others to be a little more educated. Why not ask for a lower pay but perform at your new job? or do we complain that we are already proven ourselves in school its time to take it easy? Are we afraid of hardwork and performing after we graduate? or have we been socialized to think that we only needed to put in effort to learn and achieve till we finish formal education?

Of course there are valid reasons for complaining, a dead cockroach in your soup is a good reason. But there are also unreasonable complains. Like slow service during peak hour, its peak hour for goodness sake, or how crowed Little india is on sunday, where you expect poor immgrant indian workers to go on their one day off from hard manual labor? Sentosa? Holland V? Dempsy?

its really simple, people complain because they think they are not getting what they are entitled for. Singaporeans complain so much because we think we are entitled to a lot and this attitude spills over into many areas of our lives.

Lets learn to appreciate those around us and how fortunate we are, and trust me, we will complain less and compliment more, be less jealous and more joyous.

V

Weddings and Endings

A Day of reckoning

This weekend was a weekend of sorts for me. I attending two weddings, on Friday I attended Wenyan’s wedding. She was indeed a beautiful bride, and her groom was a foot Specialist at NUH, who was my age, 25. The dinner was substandard I felt, the air conditioning was bad, the video for the day’s activities was poorly edited, the Emcees were inexperienced and to top it up, the food was bad. I Took this opportunity to catch up with my secondary school friends, we talked about the reasons behind this marriage, how they have they been together etc. What will always been at the back of my mind is the fact that she broke the engagement once before. But a year after that the groom still came back to her. She broke it off because she “had not tried enough things in life yet”, that is to say they she had not finished being single. If she felt that way why did she accept it in the first place? Anyways, they are married now. Half the table I was sitting at had people I did not know, a mother and her two 20ish daughters. Quite pretty I might say, but their facial expression changed abit when I told them that I was a student. I am getting increasing sick of such a look. I feel like an impotent man. After dinner we stayed behind to make the groom and bride drink till about 1am.

The next day, Saturday, I attended the wedding of 28year old Alex my Platoon Sergeant upper study. It was there were I had the chance to meet up with a significant number of my army “friends”, the men who were under my command back in the day.

I felt that I utterly cannot relate to them at all anymore. Their words, their concerns, their jokes, even their consistent smoke breaks all felt like a lifetime ago. I felt that I was operating on a different plane from them. I was structurally aware, and they were not. I no doubt seemed strange to them, I had nothing to say to my men, whose topics involved girls, clubbing and drinking experiences which they have shared together. A few of them looked great, with their $100 haircut, Rolexes. They talked to each other about why so and so left what company and why, asked about each other’s jobs and pay. Naturally no one had anything to say to me about such things to me.

Was I envious of them? Not really, but the pain of being left behind the rest of my male counterparts was more acute that evening. I could not help but comparing my selves with those who were more successful. I did not have much to say, I felt so unproven, so mocked even though no one was mocking me, I felt that no one was taking me seriously. How could they? Whatever I had or upheld, they did not consider as valuable. They are the teeming masses.

When i am in NTU, I was a senior, I was good at what I did, I was looked up to my many for who I was, my principles and values were taken seriously. That evening, I was placed in a field where my habitus was worth nothing. The only capital that prevailed was economic capital and good looks, and I had none, I felt quite small indeed that evening.

I knew that given my education and capabilities I could easily outperform them in time. But I have always suffered from a problem. I had little patience for progress. I always want things to happen here and now. I guess it stems from my constant feeling of being supressed, by my commitments.

One day it will all be worth it, my patience will be rewarded. Hang tight Vernon

Remember Vernon

Just came back from a run. its like 1am now.

After a long day working and an evening at Toastmasters welcome tea, i still went for a run. An all out run.

Remember Vernon, pain is weakness leaving the body, failing does not make you a failure, giving up does.

A letter from the past.

A few days ago i came across a letter i wrote to future self.

It was written way back in 2006 just before i started my university, it was short, precise and innocent. It was addressed to me and it was to be opened on the 31/12/2010.

there was only 4 points, written in 4 sentences. I wasn't very much into writing it seems back then.

1) That i should have a part time job that i liked.

2) My grades should be above average

3) I should have a girl in my life who loves me and whom i love dearly

4) I should be confident and ready to take on the world

looking back upon my effectively 3 years in uni. Did i "achieve" my so called goals?

i would think so. all of them.

I do not have a consistent part time job, but i no longer believe that i should have one. My perspective on income and wealth have changed greatly over the last 3 years. A minor in entrepreneurship and many wealth creation and financial seminars have seen to that.

My grades are above average.

As for the part about love and girls, i was single back then but even then my younger self knew the difference. Loving others and being loved does not equal to a formal relationship for the world to see. Over the years i have been blessed and privileged to have had girls who have come to love me and in their small ways, and shown me that i am more than a friend to them, it was from them i learned how to love. To those who love me, i have indeed loved them back in my own way. I ask nothing of them. Over the months and years, some of them have left and i accepted it as natural death. Not every girl can understand and enjoy platonic love. Even thought they have left me, i still think of them and all they have done for me, and how little i have reciprocated. one of my few regrets in life, was to treat others less than how they treated me.

Am full of life and ready to take on the world. You bet i am. I have never been more ready and able than i am now. I have air in my lungs, a beat in my heart, blood flowing in my veins, a clear conscious, a open heart, a mind ready to learn. I have friends who have found it worth their while to invest in my their time and their advice. I have found mentors who are guiding me in their respective fields. I feel so blessed, so full of grace and power. Like a sword dancer, so beautiful and so deadly is his dance, likewise my moves in life and the words i speak. i have grown much spiritually as well.

I left out my family in my letter, it was a big mistake. I did not realized then how crucial a family unit is to a person's growth. Over the last 6 years i have strive to be the figure my siblings lacked, and the leader my family needed. In many ways i have succeeded, and i will continue to hold on and pressure myself to become a better person. For myself and for my family.

THE PARADOX OF OUR TIMES

Is that we have taller buildings, but shorter tempers

Wider freeways, but narrower viewpoints

We spend more, but we have less.

We have bigger houses, but smaller families

More conveniences, but less time.

We have more degrees, but less sense

More knowledge, but less judgement

More experts, but more problems

More medicines, but less wellness.

We have multiplied our possessions, but reduced our values.

We talk too much, love too seldom, and hate too often

We have learnt how to make a living, but not a life.

We have added years to life, but not life to years.

We've been all the way to the moon and back

But have trouble crossing the street to meet the new neighbour.

We have conquered outer space, but not inner space.

We've cleaned up the air, but polluted our soul.

We've split the atom, but not our prejudice.

We've higher incomes, but lower morals.

We've become long on quantity but short on quality.

These are the times of tall men, and short character;

Steep profits, and shallow relationships.

These are the times of world peace, but domestic warfare,

More leisure, but less fun; more kinds of food, but less nutrition.

These are the days of two incomes, but more divorces;

Of fancier houses, but broken homes.

It is a time when there is much in the show window, and nothing in the stockroom.

A time when technology can bring this letter to you,

And a time when you can choose,

Either to make a difference .... or just hit, delete.

~ Anonymous

A woman as women should be.

I have known many girls in my life, some very beautiful, some very intelligent, every one of them feminine. I am very fortunate as a guy, because very early in my life I overcame my shyness. Over time, this advantage compounded in all the spheres of my life, everyone in my life felt it. Talking to girls have never been a problem for me, I could make them laugh, make them smile, make them interested in me. What is my secret? It is simple, because I am an interesting person.

Over the years I harness the empirical knowledge of the girls around me, soon I have come to believe I have met every type of girl, every permutation of every quality a young female can embody.

Most of the time, they are frivolous, childish, childlike, lacking in depth and quality. If they happen to be intelligent, they would only be knowledgeable and not thinking. That is to say that they might know more than the average person, but neither reflexive nor reflective. They would lament the inequality of females at the workplace while shopping for high heels.

I detest the female pursuit of beauty. I enjoy the aesthetical elements of course, but I detest its pursuit. Girls all around me complain to no one in particular that they are too fat, too thin, too dark. They forget that perfection is not a human trait. They are trying to transcend the physical realm, let us remember that a perfect circle is a mental construct, the perfect circle does not exist in nature, not even the world is in such a shape. Young girls are chasing a fantasy.

A woman should know that perfection is a social mind trick, she should know that she is beautiful in her own skin. She should know the her flaws are her details, her weakness is what makes her different, her strength is what makes her graceful, and her grace is what makes her beautiful. A heart free of ill intent is a heart that has the ability to be like a weightless feather, unimposing to those around her.

Young females seek to perfect their appearance at the expense of hollowing out their inner world. A fickle mind, an ignorant attitude, an inability to sustain thought is all signs of an immature person. Many young females are immature simply because they spend most of their time reserving that which cannot be preserved, instead of enriching that which nothing can take away, a graceful spirit, a sound mind and a big heart.

There was once I stopped believing in such a woman, I lost faith that she even exist. But, of out the blue I met her and she renewed my faith in my approach. Because of her, I now know that I am right. She is a woman as women should be, beautiful in her own skin, simple in her pleasures and gracious in her endeavors.

Tomorrow

is my first day of school, and as expected my first class of my 4^th and final year is a class I am not supposed to attend, HS301, Contemporary Social Theory Lecture by Lim Chee Han. I look forward to this class as I felt my HS301 by Kwok Kian Woon was somewhat rushed. I have every intention to attend this lecture throughout the semester, among other classes that I am also “auditing”. That’s going to be really awesome.

This semester will be trying in many ways, my FYP topic is very challenging as it deals with aesthetics, Bourdieu and ….. children all the same time. I started with great dreams for this project, and how it has trickled down to only a 10,000 word essay. I see it as a blessing, because the data and groundwork is simply too much for a one man show. This project looms over my academic life, it will make or break my 4 years in NTU.

On the side I also have so much to read, books pile on my desks faster than I can ever read them. My events fill my days faster than I could recover from them. It is as if my entire existence is vying for my attention. Sometimes my lungs feel like they cannot draw enough air no matter how fast I breathe. It is not easy to be a good son, brother and friend to all those who are deserving.

Then… I look up at my family picture I have stuck on a shelf, and I remember why I am doing all this. I am renewed.

Running Thoughts

Over ten years ago, in another life, I met a sweet looking girl, she was my classmate. She spoken and well-mannered, I remembered even till today how captivated I was by her mannerism and voice. She had an extremely unique voice, one I had never heard before and I will never hear again. Many years later I learned that she could also sing very well. Back then I was extremely shy around her, I had difficulties even talking to her and I could not hide the fact that I was totally smitten by her. Before long, stopped talking to her at all, everyone teased me mercilessly. I remembered how my heart raced and how my palms turned cold when I was calling her place, back then there wasn’t facebook or handphones for that matter. The first time I went out with her, it was a class affair. Most of my friends wanted to be informed, and I didn’t know what I was doing.

We started talking in public to each other 2 years later, and soon we were seeing each other almost every day. It wasn’t difficult considering we were from the same faculty and I have become braver in some ways. In my naivety, I was infatuated with her. I knew little about her but told myself that I loved her. I knew it was one sided, I knew nothing would come of it. So when our circumstances changed I left her life, knowing fully that I will not be missed. It was a lifetime ago, before NTU and before NS. There were a few gatherings over the years, but if she was going, I would not attend. Soon my friends realized it and left me out, and I was glad.

Today during my long distance run, I ran pass the spot where we parted so many years ago. It remained the same, the spot, but everything else has changed. The world has changed, the buildings have changed, even my heart has changed, but the stones did not. It was as if my whole world pivoted upon that spot as a fulcrum, giving strength to some areas of my life and dwarfing my efforts in other areas. I struggle to commit and I walk away easily. I remember once a girl told me that she doesn’t feel important to me because I go away so easily, when she cancel on me it would be many days before we talk again.

During the remainder of my run, I thought of the emotional baggage we all carry around. It is impossible to come of age without some sort of baggage, maturity cannot come without the destruction of innocence. Over the last few months I have come to terms that I too, like many others bear a weight. I will never let anyone affect me like that again, for all my days ahead I will be strong, for myself and those whom I love.

3 parallel thoughts

I am now a final year student, a senior of sociology. That has a nice ring to it doesn’t it? This week marks the beginning of many things for many others, but for me it marks the beginning of the end. I have played out my undergrad life as I saw fit and I have no regrets, all the friends I did not make, ,the subjects I did not Ace and the reputation I have created for myself. If I had another try, I would do it no differently.

Looking around me, i sense the anxiety of my peers, a gaping unknown which lies before them. Am I more certain than them concerning my days to come? No, I am no more certain but yet I am infinitely surer than them. Why? Because I am honest, because I do not engage in acts spawned of ill intention, because I help all who ask for help to the limits of my strength without expecting reciprocity and my sole motivation is the fact that I can hence I should. What I ask of others, I demand from myself; this is one of my few guiding principles.

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I was inspired to craft an entry today because a close friend of mine told me yesterday, that I only think that I am above many things, and that she doesn’t believe that I am in reality I am just like everyone else. In many ways, she was right, I do think that I am above many things and along that very same thread I feel that many things are beneath me. But she said it as if it was a bad thing, a negative thing to be above the petty and the cruel, a frivolous and childish. But she was also monstrously wrong; I am not like everyone else. I don’t like it when people deal with me by using absolutes, can’t they see that being absolute is limiting? Being absolute is to lose texture, colour and the spectrum of scent. If she only could listen what I am saying instead of simply hearing my words she would have understood. I told her that I make no apologies for the standards I expect from others and myself, her face hardens and I smile. I read her mind, she knows she does not meet my expectation her reactions towards me are merely attempts to tear me down to her level so that she will feel better about herself. She failed, like so many before her and the many more to come. Denial is the greatest enemy of reality.

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I received a gift last night from a friend who spent the summer in East Africa, Kenya. It was an African Tribal Dagger, and it was sharp and quite real. I make a note to myself to keep it away from my parents least they stab each other when arguing. The scabbard was coated in a sheer of grey black fur of some sort, its thin blade reflects a nation in poverty and its sharp tip its desperation.

I admire her for the courage to spend a summer alone in Africa; she was not ignorant, she was fearful, courage in my book is the act of overcoming fear. Courage is so rare in girls… almost as rare as honesty in men.

V

The Chambers of the Human Heart

Burning in the Skies

I used the deadwood to make the fire rise
The blood of innocence burning in the skies
I filled my cup with the rising of the sea
I poured it out in an ocean of debris

I'm swimming in the smoke
Of bridges I have burned
So don't apologize
I'm losing what I don't deserve

What I don't deserve

We held our breath when the clouds began to form
But you were lost in the beating of the storm
And in the end we were made to be apart
The seperate chambers of the human heart

Nooooooo!

It's in the blackened bones
Of bridges I have burned
So don't apologize
I'm losing what I don't deserve

What I don't deserve
I'm swimming in the smoke
Of bridges I have burned
So don't apologize
I'm losing what I don't deserve

The blame is mine alone
For bridges I have burned
So don't apologize
I'm losing what I don't deserve

I used the deadwood to make the fire rise
The blood of innocence burning in the skies

Nothing lasts forever,

Even cold November Rain

~ Guns and Roses

Pain is temporary.

It may last a minute,

or an hour,

or a day,

or a year,

but eventually it will subside

and something else will take its place.

If i quit however,

it lasts forever

~ Lance Armstrong

This is the last week of last summer break of my undergraduate life. I had an amazing summer, i traveled, i have gotten to know myself better, i have read books i never thought i would read, honed my stand up routine, gone for courses and had my mind opened to new and exciting ideas.

but,

I failed to achieve a few goals this summer, I failed to clear my IPPT, i failed to keep to my reading plan, i failed to register my company, failed to test my food product, failed to obtain a master copy of my smoking tee shirt... and i got thrown off track reading a book. There are many excuses i could have given myself, but i refuse to accept the excuses that i am thinking of right now. i will trade in those excuses for results. We never really fail, we only give up.

In a week's time i will embark upon my final year. A rather empty final year module wise, but packed academically speaking. I reckon 1st August to be a good date to make this resolution. In the next three months, i will attend to my formal commitments and i will clock in all which i failed to achieve these last three months. I want this entry to seared into my memory, how i did not achieve all that set out for and to remind myself why i should not give up.

This final year is crucial on many levels, but in essence it is a year to prepare, a final gap in my life to out into order the pieces of of my life before i assume the responsibilities i have been putting off for the last 6 years. Responsibilities as a son, a brother and an adult. i have much to prepare for.

Last evening, i brought my grandfather to the hospital again, this time he was warded for infection. As i stool there, look at the sleepy sleepy eyes of this ill old man. I felt the weight of the world bearing upon me, the weight of the years and days to come. Thoughts about the fragility of life, the passing of time, the hopes of the heart all were all flicked aside by the Pentecost of pain. All the great struggles of our small and short lives, regardless of magnitude or frequency are simple confrontations with our immediate pain.

I remembered the bird's eye view of Singapore, and thought about how a whole society is propelled forward by individuals overcoming their own small measure of pain.

I have spent years harnessing my mental facilities, forging a character of both caliber and clarity, control and inner strength. I am far from who i once was, but not yet where i need to be. More can be done.

Alone i stand against the onslaught, and alone i will stem the tide, for those i love, and all that i hold dear on this good earth... i will never yield.

Convocation Week '11

This week is convocation week. Over the last few days my facebook updates were vivid with pictures of my friends in their convocation gowns. Everyone was beaming, smiling, posing with parents, friends and even with their professors. A momentous occasion, a capping stone, convocation serves many as a conclusion to their many years of education. Knighted for all to see; family and friends alike witness their ascension into the ranks of society.

I remembered when I was a recruit in the army I looked forward to my passing out parade. That was the parade which marked the end of my Basic Military Training, after which I would be a private. On the eve of the parade, everyone was happy, everyone was looking forward to their parents coming to pick them up and leave Pulau Tekong, one of my bunkmate was even running around the room shouting “POP LOR”. I was no different, I could not wait to be posted out, I touched my shaved head and thought that I am finally allowed to let my hair grow. But, I made the mistake of thinking that POP was the end. Every single Singaporean male can relate to what I just said. POP was not the end of our life as a recruit, I went from being a recruit to being a trainee and I went from section to syndicate. I had to do all that I did and more, and failure did not always mean push ups.

Looking at my facebook wall, I saw small thumbnails of gowns and hats, bears and flowers. But I felt the void, those who are missing from the pictures. Some of those who are reading this, have graduated and are still jobless, and deep in debt, some of those reading this are feeling lost because after a lifetime of being told what to do next, they are suddenly told to choose their path themselves, some of those reading this are in love and know that they cannot get married because they literally cannot afford to live the life they so rightly deserve.

Convocation is indeed a milestone is all of our lives, but it is just that, a milestone, not a finishing line. It does not mark the end of learning, it does not mark the end of honest hard work, it does not mark the end of effort, and it does not mark the end of friendship. It only means that we still have to do all that we do mentally in school, but consequences of failure are that much greater. It means that a bad presentation does not mean that you lost that 10%, but that year’s bonus or that HDB downpayment. It means greater accountability, greater responsibility, greater expectation without necessarily greater rewards.

Allow me to offer my congratulations for overcoming this great hurdle. But it is only a hurdle, one in a series, it is not the end but the beginning. You have achieved the dream your parents had for you when you were born, people who gave up so much so that we can have the life they never had. But please remember, today is not about you or me, it’s about all those who were working behind the scene to give us the best footing to begin the greatest struggle of our existence, the struggle to live a honourable life.

Good Luck Everyone.

Vernon's Nietzsche

After some exposure to Nietzsche’s work, I can understand his appeal, and his sacrifice. Nietzsche said that if one were to seek happiness, seek faith, and if where to seek truth, one must keep looking. To be ever changing, always evolving, ceaseless in change was a preamble to his Übermensch, the over man, a man who will overcome his surroundings, his God, and achieve freedom, a Godless freedom, a freedom from duty.

Nietzsche’s sacrifice was to me quite questionable, was a really a sacrifice? Or was his philosophy an attempt to manage his pain? His world was Godless, he saw his father, a man of God, suffer and die, without God, how could he have justified his suffering. His radical statement, “it is best not to have been born, and if one is born, it would be best if one dies quickly”. There was no doubt concerning his brilliance, but his premises are not perfect. His disregard for women, calling them stupid and childlike, no doubt influenced by Schopenhauer, his selfishness, he believes that the lay are beyond salvation, that he cannot flourish in their midst. He rather stays silent in their presence than try to influence their thoughts. A true hermit can remain alone even in the midst of people, such a man is Nietzsche.

Nietzsche considers philosophy as the summit of the entire scientific pyramid, it only collectively separated from science in the minds of the masses when it posed the question, what kind of knowledge of the world and life is it through which man can life the happiest (Nietzsche H.A.T.H). Knowledge like everything else in our known universe is not homogenous. There are different forms and typologies of knowledge. If one desires to seek truth, or even be able to comprehend the various truths, one must be aware of the taxonomies involved. It is at this juncture the intellectual lends her insight to the lay. One must pursue and prove that which is necessary, towards a greater truth, towards freedom. What is the point of proving a metaphysical world? It is certain that knowledge of it would be the most useless of all knowledge, more useless than knowledge of the chemical composition of water must be to the sailor in danger of a shipwreck (Nietzsche HATA). Knowing what to look for is far more crucial than the act and effort of looking.

The lay who takes appearance as reality, paradigms as Truth, they are as Nietzsche calls them, worshippers of the form. They are blind, because their eyes have not yet discovered the charm of the simplest form, hence they thoughtlessly imitate old forms, and not engaged in rigorous thinking. They have made a serious occupation out of the spinning out of forms and symbols (Nietzsche H.A.T.H).

These forms and symbols are reified by the effervescence of the masses, forged into the belief that they are Truth, and from this belief that the truth has been found out of which the mightiest sources of energy have flowed. Temples of Consumerism to Shrines of Distraction, man create a world to lose himself within, men became lōtophagoi themselves.

Within the madness that has come to take the place of normalcy, duty sneaks in insidiously. That which fetters the fastest, especially in the case of men of a high and select kind, are their duties. Duties to family, country and to Love shackle the moral and intellectual. Why? Because those who are truly intellectual are inevitably moral, to be intellectual is to be at the pinnacle of morality.

However, petty intellectuals stumble over a common pebble. Kant postulates that understanding does not come from nature, it is prescribed to nature. They make the mistake of morality. Morality must be guided by Reason, and through reason we will overcome and become the Übermensch. We as a species must empower ourselves, it is our future that regulate our today. We must live in the future in our heads so that we can find rigor in our bodies today. Reason guides morals, morals guide actions, actions shape reality.

I never expected you to know, i only expected you to ask...

Your eyes betray your smile,

Your smile betray your heart

and your heart betray your thoughts

----

when i held your hand,

it was not because i thought that the spaces

between your fingers was bothering you

----

What you ask of others,

you must demand it of yourself

----

What you cannot tolerate from others,

you must purge it from yourself

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What it means to let go?

Why we all must learn to let go

When I am dead, I want people to remember me based on three things. How I lived, how I loved and how I learned to let go. Today when I woke up, I felt that I needed to explain what I mean by letting go.

Letting go of our past and our pain does not mean forgetting them. Forgetting is not something that we do, it is something that happens to us. I cannot will myself to forget any more than I can will myself to remember. All of us, we are the residue of our experiences, whether we remember them or not, whether can articulate them or not. It is paramount that we do not forget where we come from, those who have left indelible footprints in our lives for they all contribute to who and what we are today. Letting go does not mean that we forget, because if somehow we are reminded we would then be at the mercy of our pain once again. This way we can never truly let go. Letting go does not mean that we forget, it means we accept that the past is the past, and start to dream about tomorrow. Letting go means does not mean that we forget, it means that the episode in our lives, no matter how deep or how long it has lasted, no longer has any impact on our present selves.

After we let go, we move on. As long as I continue to hold on to my past, I cannot move on to greener pastures. I deny myself all the goodness of a future that is so real for a silver of memory.

I have had many negative experiences, I have lied, cheated and stole, lost friends from lying, betrayed the trust of those who loved me, have been walked out on, walked away from a crying face. After every single episode I felt a regret, a great remorse, but I take a deep breath and tell myself that I must strong, let go and move on.

Because I don’t want my tombstone to say

“Here lies Vernon, who could not let go”

Why i don't like people crying.

Once she asked me if I have written anything about her. I told her that I refrain from writing about her because as far as my world is concern she does not exist. That was not the whole truth. But that is for another day. The truth of the matter is that we have come to share a great friendship, one which I treasure and hold dear to my heart, which is why the tears that stream down her face pools at the base of my heart like a cauldron of acid.

I do not know when she will read this, will she ever read this, or whether we will ever talk about this. But it is inconsequential to me, I write to the void not to her.

Sometimes, communication with this particular girl is vexing. The pain of her past has rendered her ability to be frank and direct anaemic. Her immaculate vocabulary reflects surgical precision concerning syntax and context, which she uses to express herself in the written form, via blog entries, essays and smses. Her words are are mirror, sword and shield all that the same time. Hence my motivation for penning his entry, I literally cannot speak to her face to face. When provoked, her essence will retract back into an armour she needs not don in my presence, but she dons it out of habit nonetheless, pain showing on her face, fear in her eyes. My heart weakens at such a display of vulnerability, and I reflexively back off.

It is my personal belief that souls are made of tears, cry too much and soon we will become lost to emotions and our souls would have been vaporized. I hope that this entry will squelch her reasons to shed tears, ambitious I know, considering she might never read this.

This evening we exchanged a few messages. Embedded within the rants and complains, she subliminally expresses the state of affairs of her family, how the piercing words of her brother wounded her, amongst other issues. In and by itself, the message is innocent. For no family is perfect, and no home unshakable. However, in one of her responses she mentioned how a new day would revitalize her. I never believe we should let the sun set on an argument nor should any one go to bed in tears. This is the second time she mentioned some sort of euphemism for renewal with nothing by the passage of time as the cocoon, and the new sun to break the chrysalis . Time heals all wounds, but they leave terrible scars, scars so disfiguring that they impede the mobility of those wounded. Do not believe that time change people, that is poppycock , people change people.

With this small itch at the back of my mind, I went to read her blog, and as I expected there was a short entry regurgitating an even more ambiguous version of her state of being then what was mentioned during our sms correspondence. She shared how her heart was broken and how she cried. How could those around her not see her pain I wonder? The home is the last place we should be putting up an act, one does not wear armour in one’s castle.

I bit my bottom lip as I read of her sorrow, for the tears of those whom I hold dear pains me.

No one can make you feel lousy, meek or small without your permission. But anyone can make you feel strong and powerful without even you knowing it. Select your memories, select what you want to be notable in your life, words only have impact on you if the person speaking them have a hold over you. Their opinion only matters if they matter.

The person you will be in the years to come are affected by 3 things, the books you read, the people you meet and the memories you choose to keep. Calibrate these elements and you will realize your fullest potential, and become a woman as women should be.

You bear a solitary burden only because you choose to bear it alone, not because you have to.

周杰倫 - 蒲公英的约定

与你聊不完的曾经
而我已经分不清　
你是友情还是错过的爱情

now that's song writing...

Soul Blindness

You would know the desire has left your body when all you can feel for a person is pure affection. It is indeed a strange feeling, when all of society, the entire world continuously feed you the idea that without desire, love will fizzle out. But is affection not the very fuel of humanity? Desire and lust are but the sparks, you cannot sustain a bonfire with sparklers.

When people meet, it is without a doubt a meeting of bodies. The acknowledgement of the existence of another cannot even compare to even an iota to the awareness of another. An exquisite sensation, awareness is. Mortality for example, death shadows life, our every second of life is made more precious simply because it might be our last. When we are aware of death, we become acutely aware of life. When bodies meet, they touch and soon the touch is forgotten, lost in the sea of sensations to come. The meeting of souls will leave an indelible mark in the lives of all involved. In a shallow world, a world of the visual and the carnal, we have come to lose the ability to see each other’s soul. Our eyes pick up the light, our ears pick up the vibrations in the air, but we cannot really hear and we cannot really see those who we are talking to. Hence, we are soul blind. Souls are not ghostly apparitions, intangibles spectres floating in space, Souls are who we are under what we seem to be, and we have become blind to that.

When souls meet, when they can hear and see each other, a strange thing happens. One’s empirical senses become dull, one loses the ability to see the physical flaws, the face, the hair, the poverty. A light in the dark and blind world, a beacon of hope and source of warmth; such is the foundation of friendship and the cornerstone of love.

Every single one of us walk around with a mask over our face to protect our pride, to protect our hearts, we erect walls of steel and stone. Coupled with the soul blindness of the world, is it of little wonder why relationships are so superficial.

But all is not lost. When you meet someone, when bodies meet, a dance ensues. A parry of words, and an exchange of ideas later, the acid corrodes away the masks leaving naked pride. During the vanguard, bodies try to keep the masks on; now during the aftermath souls are ripping away the walls of stone and steel.

There are two groups of people in our lives. With one group, we plan and execute elaborate schemes to keep ourselves protected from them, to keep locked down our deepest insecurities and our most sincere dreams. To the other group, we think of ways to show them our deepest insecurities and most sincere dreams. Why? Because happiness is multiplied and sadness divided when shared with those we love.

The foundation of all love should be good friendship. Parents, siblings, and lovers are no exception. We are born into families, but we choose the families we create. Deep mutual respect, open and honest communication and a clear vision for the future are important elements in a good relationship.

… to be continued

Touch

As we grow up we touch less. When I was much younger, most afternoons after school it out I would fight with my peers behind the school stage, we touched, even thought it was fists and kicks. I had a line up partner, she was the shortest girl in my class and I was the shortest boy in my class. I was a late bloomer, in some ways I guess I still am. We had to hold hands and strangely I do not remember ever feeling awkward. Even during dance lessons, our bodies touched freely like sexless little people. Society’s spell on us children is still being channelled, it’s enchantment still incomplete.

As our socialization process ossify in our minds, our body parts and those of others become enchanted. We are told and taught explicitly and implicitly many reasons why we should not behave in this way or that. We over read gestures and under value intentions out of fear of misunderstanding, but can one really misunderstand affection or concern? Invisible barriers become erected between each other, soon before long even when the tip of my toe bump into her shin I apologize, as if I broke some part of her, as if I somehow injured her self-worth.

I guess that’s why we seek intimacy with another, I would like to believe that the desire for physical contact is both animal as well as human, or the dualism unnecessary? We seek to hug and kiss without reason, hold hands and embrace freely without needing to ask permission. I used to believe when people interlock fingers was nature's way to sync pulses of two people. To feel the heartbeat of another against our chest reminds us that we are not alone in this world and should we disappear we will be missed, is there anything else we could desire?

It’s Not About You

By DAVID BROOKS

Published: May 30, 2011

Over the past few weeks, America’s colleges have sent another class of graduates off into the world. These graduates possess something of inestimable value. Nearly every sensible middle-aged person would give away all their money to be able to go back to age 22 and begin adulthood anew.

But, especially this year, one is conscious of the many ways in which this year’s graduating class has been ill served by their elders. They enter a bad job market, the hangover from decades of excessive borrowing. They inherit a ruinous federal debt.

More important, their lives have been perversely structured. This year’s graduates are members of the most supervised generation in American history. Through their childhoods and teenage years, they have been monitored, tutored, coached and honed to an unprecedented degree.

Yet upon graduation they will enter a world that is unprecedentedly wide open and unstructured. Most of them will not quickly get married, buy a home and have kids, as previous generations did. Instead, they will confront amazingly diverse job markets, social landscapes and lifestyle niches. Most will spend a decade wandering from job to job and clique to clique, searching for a role.

No one would design a system of extreme supervision to prepare people for a decade of extreme openness. But this is exactly what has emerged in modern America. College students are raised in an environment that demands one set of navigational skills, and they are then cast out into a different environment requiring a different set of skills, which they have to figure out on their own.

Worst of all, they are sent off into this world with the whole baby-boomer theology ringing in their ears. If you sample some of the commencement addresses being broadcast on C-Span these days, you see that many graduates are told to: Follow your passion, chart your own course, march to the beat of your own drummer, follow your dreams and findyourself. This is the litany of expressive individualism, which is still the dominant note in American culture.

But, of course, this mantra misleads on nearly every front.

College grads are often sent out into the world amid rapturous talk of limitless possibilities. But this talk is of no help to the central business of adulthood, finding serious things to tie yourself down to. The successful young adult is beginning to make sacred commitments — to a spouse, a community and calling — yet mostly hears about freedom and autonomy.

Today’s graduates are also told to find their passion and then pursue their dreams. The implication is that they should find themselves first and then go off and live their quest. But, of course, very few people at age 22 or 24 can take an inward journey and come out having discovered a developed self.

Most successful young people don’t look inside and then plan a life. They look outside and find a problem, which summons their life. A relative suffers from Alzheimer’s and a young woman feels called to help cure that disease. A young man works under a miserable boss and must develop management skills so his department can function. Another young woman finds herself confronted by an opportunity she never thought of in a job category she never imagined. This wasn’t in her plans, but this is where she can make her contribution.

Most people don’t form a self and then lead a life. They are called by a problem, and the self is constructed gradually by their calling.

The graduates are also told to pursue happiness and joy. But, of course, when you read a biography of someone you admire, it’s rarely the things that made them happy that compel your admiration. It’s the things they did to court unhappiness — the things they did that were arduous and miserable, which sometimes cost them friends and aroused hatred. It’s excellence, not happiness, that we admire most.

Finally, graduates are told to be independent-minded and to express their inner spirit. But, of course, doing your job well often means suppressing yourself. As Atul Gawande mentioned during his countercultural address last week at Harvard Medical School, being a good doctor often means being part of a team, following the rules of an institution, going down a regimented checklist.

Today’s grads enter a cultural climate that preaches the self as the center of a life. But, of course, as they age, they’ll discover that the tasks of a life are at the center. Fulfillment is a byproduct of how people engage their tasks, and can’t be pursued directly. Most of us are egotistical and most are self-concerned most of the time, but it’s nonetheless true that life comes to a point only in those moments when the self dissolves into some task. The purpose in life is not to find yourself. It’s to lose yourself.

Friend

The idea of a friend is a rather taken for granted one. We all assume to know what it means, but when we are pushed to articulate the concept, we can sometimes find that even a pair of best friends have different expectations of their friendship, or more specifically different degrees of commitment.

I will not be trying to exhaust the boundaries of friendship but I would like to add, for now, two settings, if I may, regarding friends. I personally believe one cannot offend one’s friend. One simply cannot, it is structurally not possible. Friendship, like all other meaningful relationships must be two sided. Idolizing some K pop singer is an example of an unmeaningful relationship. If you have come to accept an individual as your friend, you will never bear any ill intent or ill will against him/her. Your method might not be agreeable, but your intention will be pure. Hence you will not say things out of spite. You should strive to speak to warn, protect, encourage and to empower. Can you really bear to hold a well intended statement against your friend, no matter how crudely packaged and delivered? The recipient of the “offensive” statement, will know that such a statement is uttered out of concern, fear, or need to protect, and hence not be offended. Once your friendship is within grace, within each other’s grace, you will always give each other the benefit of the doubt. The key here is grace. Humans do not flourish under a climate of fear, not even under a climate of prosperity, we flourish under a climate of grace. Within a friendship enriched with grace, nothing one party would ever say could every offend the other. Many of us are already blessed to be sharing such a relationship with others, but we merely do not know the words to describe how we feel.

My next point is, within graceful friendships and other meaningful relationships, we cannot give anything away for free, that is to say they we cannot express an empty gesture within a graceful relationship. Within a graceful relationship the economy of emotion is not a zero sum economy. When one party gives, both parties gain. Every gesture of grace, enriches the bond, feeds the relationship, strengthen it so if and when a Draught of Time comes their bond will weather it and come out stronger…

If you were wondering what is my point is, here it is, my point is grace. A graceful friend is indeed hard to come by. Ghandi said that we should all strive to be the change we seek in the world. If we look around and find a lacking in grace, we should start with embodying grace and add to the pool.

It’s a truly exquisite feeling to be aware of the existence of another, to feel their existence as a sudden necessity, a feeling that is not shallow nor overbearing, merely final, like a conclusion to an endless question. Like stopping in your tracks and realizing that you have forgotten something. That is the feeling of awareness, that is what it means to not take someone for granted, that is the start of a graceful friendship.