The beauty of now

Life is a funny thing. Lived forwards, it can seem chaotic, uncomfortable, and painfully slow. But somehow time washes the not-so-pleasant away, leaving the beauty behind.

In the UK, I didn't think it was possible to miss a place as much as I missed KL. I now know that it's possible.

I didn't think I'd ever find myself missing it. All I saw, for most of my eight months there, was how much I was missing back home. But looking backwards, time did its funny little tricks, and I am struck by how beautiful my time there was.

I find myself, again, wishing I was back in a place that feels familiar - although ironically, it didn't feel familiar at the time. Yet I know that going back is not the answer. Things won't be the same again. I'd have to adjust all over again, and I'd find myself missing other familiar things here. 

Such is life... and such is time. It gives past memories a makeover, transforming them into beauty. Yet it's the very thing that keeps you from living the same moment twice.

I think that means we need to be more careful about the time we let slip through our fingers. 

We can't hold on to anything in life, that's for sure. But we can look past the chaos and unpleasantness of the moment and see all the beauty the present contains.

Maybe time works this way because if we got all the good and beautiful things in life at one go, we wouldn't be able to fully savour it or know what to do with it. 

There's beauty in the past, in memories. There's beauty in hope for the future, in dreams. But the only beauty we can really hold, touch, taste, experience... is that in the present.

So always keep a little bit of the beauty of the past and future in your heart, but don't let it blind you to that of the present. 

Because there is always something beautiful around us, I believe. At every single moment in our lives.

Sometimes I'm scared to embrace the beauty of today, because I'm scared I won't have room in my heart alongside so many beautiful memories of the past.

But the heart always makes room. 

Sometimes I live so much for the idea of a 'better' tomorrow, that I look back and regret not fully appreciating yesterday, by which time it's too late to go back.

Be present. This moment, this day, is all you really have. 

See the beauty in it.

Slow down.

Cherish the little things.

Savour the good things.

Remember that everything will pass, the good and bad.

But it's your choice which to focus on.

"Life is short. Break the rules, forgive quickly, kiss slowly, love truly, laugh uncontrollably, and never regret anything that made you smile.... 

...Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things you didn’t do than by the ones you did. So throw off the bowlines. Sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover." -Mark Twain

See you later :)

I find that I'm not so scared of goodbyes these days like I used to be.

After 21 years on this earth, life has not failed to disappoint in that it always brings the people I need into my life.

Not necessarily those I want, though.

But if I am a better person today than I was a year, two years, five years ago (and I think I am), then those people must have been good for me. The ones I've had to say goodbye to - maybe they weren't what I needed at that point in life. And those goodbyes had to be said to make room for new people to walk in - people who were there to teach me things, to help me grow, to make me stronger, and, sometimes, sometimes... to slow me down, remind me that I'm human, and open my eyes to how beautiful life can be.

Life has also taught me that some goodbyes are not really goodbyes (more like 'See you later's). With some people, you can go without talking for weeks or seeing each other for months - but when you finally do, it's like all that time and distance never happened. If people are meant to stay in your life, they will. Even if you have to say a few goodbyes along the way. But they'll always be followed by the next 'Hello'. :)

So here's to goodbyes. The ones we need. The goodbyes that make room for better things. But also, the ones that don't last. The temporary goodbyes that show us how much the ones we care about mean to us.

And here's to the hellos that will follow. To new faces... and if you're lucky, to warm, familiar ones all over again.

The Giving Pledge

Inspiring words from The Giving Pledge:

"More than 99% of my wealth will go to philanthropy during my lifetime or at death. Measured by dollars, this commitment is large. In a comparative sense, though, many individuals give more to others every day.

Millions of people who regularly contribute to churches, schools, and other organizations thereby relinquish the use of funds that would otherwise benefit their own families. The dollars these people drop into a collection plate or give to United Way mean forgone movies, dinners out, or other personal pleasures. In contrast, my family and I will give up nothing we need or want by fulfilling this 99% pledge.

Moreover, this pledge does not leave me contributing the most precious asset, which is time. Many people, including -- I'm proud to say -- my three children, give extensively of their own time and talents to help others. Gifts of this kind often prove far more valuable than money. A struggling child, befriended and nurtured by a caring mentor, receives a gift whose value far exceeds what can be bestowed by a check." -Warren Buffet

"I am the son of a plumber who practiced his trade in the South Bronx. I am the first generation American born in my family as well as the first to get a college degree. My education is largely public school based -- public grade school, high school and college all in the Bronx. I had a short stint at the Columbia University Graduate School of Business where I earned an MBA and this opened the door for me to Goldman Sachs. I joined the Firm the day after graduation as I had a National Defense Education Act Student Loan to repay, had no money in the bank, and a six month old child to support. I had a near 25 year run of happiness and good fortune at Goldman Sachs. The last 19 years at Omega have also been years of happiness and good fortune with a few bumps along the way. While I worked hard, I must say I had more than my share of good luck.

Toby and I feel it is our moral imperative to give others the opportunity to pursue the American Dream by sharing our financial success. The case for philanthropy has been stated by others in a most articulate way and in words that have impressed me: In the early 1900's Andrew Carnegie said “He who dies rich, dies disgraced.” In the 1930's, Sir Winston Churchill observed that “We make a living by what we get, but we make a life by what we give.” Well before all these gentlemen expressed their thoughts, it was written in the Talmud that “A man's net worth is measured not by what he earns but rather what he gives away.”" -Leon G. Cooperman

"My mother raised my brother and me in a European immigrant community in downtown Los Angeles. From the time I was two years old, it was just the three of us. We didn’t have very much, not even a TV; however, we did not realize that.

One Christmas, when I was six years old, my mother took us to see the window displays and decorations in the big department stores in downtown Los Angeles. It was a big treat for us. We saw puppets that moved and trains that circled... It was really special and added to the Christmas spirit, but it didn’t cost anything.

That same year, my mother gave my brother and me a dime. She told both of us to hold half of it and put it in thebucket near a man who was ringing a bell. We did, and then we asked my mother why we gave him the dime (at the time, a dime could buy you three candy bars or two soda pops). My mom’s reply was, “This is the Salvation Army that helps people who are really in need. Remember boys, no matter how much you have, there is always someone who is more in need than you. Always try to give, even if it is a little.” Needless to say, that stuck with me in my adult life.

Now my family and I have the privilege to help people and make the world a better place to live. This opportunity will not be passed up. Living is giving. I won’t deprive my family of knowing how good it feels to help those in need with some of the basics we already have…food, shelter, care and a future." -John Paul DeJoria

"Both of us were fortunate to grow up with parents who taught us some tremendously important values. Work hard. Show respect. Have a sense of humor. And if life happens to bless you with talent or treasure, you have a responsibility to use those gifts as well and as wisely as you possibly can. Now we hope to pass this example on to our own children." -Bill and Melinda Gates

"...the reality of great wealth is that you can't spend it and you can't take it with you. For decades, I've been committed to giving away the vast majority of my wealth to causes that I'm passionate about - and that my children are passionate about. And so I am enthusiastically taking the Giving Pledge, and nearly all of my net worth will be given away in the years ahead or left to my foundation." -Michael R. Bloomberg

"The three problems that concern me the most are the threat of nuclear annihilation, climate change and the continuing growth of the world’s population. Sometimes these problems can seem overwhelming, and when they do, I remind myself of a conversation I had many years ago with Jacques Cousteau. I asked him if he ever got discouraged or worried that the problems he was working on were insurmountable. He looked at me and said, “Ted, it could be that these problems can’t be solved, but what can men of good conscience do but keep trying until the very end?” At that moment, his very words inspired me to want to do even more." -Ted Turner

"I was also informed by the great novelist, Kurt Vonnegut, who once told a story that seemed to capture my situation perfectly. He and Joseph Heller were at a party given by a wealthy hedge fund manager at his majestic beach house in the Hamptons, the summer playground on Long Island where the rich and famous congregate. Kurt and Joe both had made their marks by satirizing life’s absurdities – Kurt with best-selling novels like Slaughterhouse 5 and Breakfast of Champions, Joe with the incomparable Catch-22. During the course of the party, Kurt looked around at the surroundings and asked Heller: “Joe, doesn’t it bother you that this guy makes more in a day than you ever made from the worldwide sales of Cach-22?” Joe thought for a moment and then said, “No, not really. I have something that he doesn’t have.” “What could you possibly have that he doesn’t have?” Kurt asked. “I know the meaning of enough.” My father often said the same thing." -Peter G. Peterson

Note to self:

Don't put your life on hold.

Don't be afraid to feel.

Reminders of things that matter

There is much I want to write about.

There's Bersih 2.0, and the subtle undercurrents, beneath all the drama, of a newly-sparked passion for our country among my oft-dubbed as apathetic generation.

Or a recent series of wakes and funerals I've attended and how it often takes sudden and unexpected events like these to slow us down and put things into perspective. (Why do we gather and spend so lavishly - and regretfully - upon someone's passing instead of having used that time and money to celebrate them while they were still alive?)

But there are only so many hours in a day, and other priorities and obligations to attend to, that by the time I sit down to write about these things, other events will have taken place, and the experiences of today a faded memory.

So instead, I will just be thankful for today's reminders:

Of the things that matter in life - friends, family, and a place to call home.

And to live each day with passion and purpose - a life that, in the face of the unexpected, will hold no regrets from yesterday.

Be the change you want to see in the world

One passion I have developed in recent years is environmental sustainability, sparked by a growing awareness of environmental issues. This awareness came from a variety of sources, including:

• Writing and researching for a monthly environmental column in a magazine I used to work at;
• Working on my company’s sustainability report as a trainee last year;
• The movie ‘An Inconvenient Truth’;
• The sprouting of community and church environmental efforts around me;
• Working on a business proposal for an environmental website as part of a university project;
• Various prominent awareness campaigns including Earth Hour and The Plastiki Expedition; and
• Amazing environmentalist friends like Naz, who runs Green-Eyed Monster Blog.

All the above ruined my blissful ignorance of the state of our world. Life would never be the same again. Learning about a floating rubbish patch in the Pacific Ocean comprising mostly non-biodegradable plastic that spans an area the size of Texas and keeps growing because we keep producing plastic, looking at images of beautiful marine life trapped in discarded plastic rings or covered in thick oil, and watching, with my own eyes, coral reefs diminishing each time I revisit Malaysia’s East coast islands since I first started snorkeling as a child… is nothing short of heart-wrenching.

I realize, though, that I don’t talk about this passion enough, perhaps because I am averse to preaching without practicing, and I’ve always felt I was simply not doing enough.

Nobody needs to hear another overbearing sermon about how the earth’s resources are limited and we need to take care of it or risk harming ourselves and future generations. But we see the signs of human greed and irresponsibility everywhere, choking beauty and littering our streets. We know, intuitively, that there must be some better way to live. We know we could use some change.

I’ve long been inspired by Ghandi, who said, “Be the change you want to see in the world.”

I want to change. I want to talk about things that matter to me – but first, I want to be able to do something about those things before I talk about them. To do that, I need to realize that in the long run, small things matter.

This week, I started with the simplest of steps – finding a box to recycle paper at home. Hopefully, in addition to reducing my environmental impact, that box will serve as a visual reminder to use paper (and the rest of my resources) sparingly and generate some extra income for the people involved in the recycling process.

I have also started reading ‘Walking Gently on the Earth: Making Faithful Choices About Food, Energy, Shelter and More’, a thoughtful book that reflects on how we can make wiser, better, intentional, more beneficial choices about living our lives in a way that allows us and our earth to flourish. Hopefully this book will shed light on more ways we can take care of the earth we live on and ultimately, take better care of ourselves.

Another particular area in which I want to challenge myself is to eat less meat. If you would do one thing and one thing only to reduce your impact on the environment, it would be to eat less meat. Nothing else, not even transportation or energy production, causes as much carbon emissions as the meat industry.

I love my meat. Thanks to the effectiveness of diets such as The Zone and The South Beach Diet, which promote eating generously as a whole but consuming more protein and minimal carbs, I am a serial meat eater. But benefitting myself at the detriment of others – I hardly consider that a benefit at all.

I don't have a defined action plan, but if I can skip meat starting with a day a week, to perhaps every alternate day, that's a good start!

I'll close with a challenge, inspired by a witty tee shirt slogan I've been seeing people sport lately - "Everyone wants to change the world, but nobody wants to change."

What do you want to see change in our world? What's ONE thing you can do differently to be a part of that change today? This week? This year?

Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond imagination

I've been quiet for awhile. Well, by my standards at least. For someone who blogs every other day, a week without a new post is a substantial hiatus.

When I'm not blogging, it usually means I'm busy living. And this week, I have been living. The few times I did find myself staring at an empty text box below the words 'New Post' this week, I was at a loss for words to type out.

Because the thing with living is that it's pretty hard to process, to grasp, and most of all, to write down when you're caught in the middle of all its craziness. The lessons, the appreciation, the understanding for what we've gone through usually come in hindsight. Often, we only realize or understand what we've lived through after we've lived through it.

I think I've just been thrown into the middle of one of those crazy OMG-how-did-the-week-just-fly-by, sleeping-late-and-waking-up-early seasons of living, laughing, crying, loving. And I think I'm ready to face it.

After coming back from the UK absolutely drained, this past month and a half - spent giving myself time, spent paying attention to myself, spent being honest with myself, spent giving myself a chance - has been good for me.

I've come to realize that most of the time, when I tell myself "I can't", what it really means is "I won't". I won't risk failure or embarrassment or even worse, mediocrity - I won't even try because those risks are not worth it. I don't really mean "I can't" because I don't even know if I can or can't, because I've not even tried.

It dawned on me how much of my life was spent telling myself "I won't", masked by excuses of "I can't", "It's not my thing", and "I'm not good at that". I realized if I kept having the attitude of "I'm not a corporate person", "I'm an artsy person; I don't fit inside a system", and "I'm hopeless at understanding business and finance" - even before giving any of the above a chance - I was going to make myself miserable for the next three years.

I've also come to realize that I'm more afraid of success than of failure. If you've failed, as long as you've tried your hardest, then you can simply shrug it off and say I tried my best, but I guess that's not my lot in life. With success comes recognition - and scrutiny. What if... what if there are people who don't think I deserve my success? What if there are people who are jealous of me? What if there are people who try to steal my successes from me... and what if they succeed? What if I can't handle everyone looking at me and evaluating my success? It comes down, then, not to a matter of failure versus success... but a matter of self-worth.

As Marianne Williamson famously put it:

"Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond imagination. It is our light more than our darkness which scares us. We ask ourselves – who are we to be brilliant, beautiful, talented, and fabulous. But honestly, who are you to not be so? 

You are a child of God, small games do not work in this world. For those around us to feel peace, it is not example to make ourselves small. We were born to express the glory of God that lives in us. It is not in some of us, it is in all of us. While we allow our light to shine, we unconsciously give permission for others to do the same. When we liberate ourselves from our own fears, simply our presence may liberate others."

But these epiphanies mean nothing if my perspectives and actions don't change. So I told myself to stop telling myself "I won't" and give myself a chance. And while succeeding - really succeeding in life - scares the crap out of me, I've decided to give it 101% - everything I have in me and whatever more I can muster. To be scared, but to do it anyway, scared and all.

I'm a big advocate of facing your fears. To overcome my fear of heights and wobbly knees, I turned to Skytrex and Genting Theme Park's Space Shot. To overcome my fear of reptiles, I wrapped a python around my neck. In the future, I hope to go for a night dive to overcome my phobia of dark water, which I blame on my parents for letting me watch JAWS when I was a tiny kid. But these fears aren't as crippling as things like the fear of failing or succeeding.

Often, we don't see our avoidance of those things as fears. It's easy to address a fear of insects or lizards once you acknowledge it as a fear and take steps to overcome it. But as long as we don't admit that telling ourselves "I can't" really means we just don't want to, and that sometimes, we don't push ourselves enough because we don't really think we deserve success, then we'll never be able to overcome those mentalities.

Overcoming a problem starts with admitting there's one.

Namaste. 

(Note: I discovered the above word while writing a review for a Northern Indian restaurant. It is a reverential greeting associated with several Eastern religions, most famously Hinduism, but I believe its essence transcends religion or culture. It means "I honour the divinity within you", or "the light in me respects the light in you". Beautiful.)

The sweetest words I've heard all year

 

The past week has been an eventful one. What with the Bersih 2.0 rally, Thailand's first female prime minister (and a gorgeous one at that) being voted into office, and of course Rupert Murdoch's News of the World phone hacking scandal.

In the middle of all that, I received some other news, which, while certainly not as significant as the above, was the highlight of my year so far.

After what has been an eventful and challenging journey, I can finally say that I'm a graduate. And not only that, a graduate with first class honours.

Was it a smooth ride all the way? No. Did I feel like giving up along the way? Constantly. Were there times I felt I'd blown the chance at a 1:1 degree? Definitely, when I managed to set a personal record for my all-time lowest grade received for a module. Was it worth it? Yes. Absolutely yes.

If I had to pick one thing university taught me, it would be that there's no shortcut to success. For a straight-A student who breezed by daydreaming her way through school and college, and pretty much being good at whatever she found herself doing, be it editing, designing, or working as a barista at Starbucks, I found myself in a very different world the moment I hit university. A world in which talent and personality were just not enough. Going twenty years of one's life without really having to question your ability and being given opportunities to do things you're naturally good at doesn't really teach you a lot about the real world and the determination, discipline, and hard work you need to thrive in it.

And that is what I believe my degree is worth. Not a fancy piece of paper or a ticket to a bigger paycheck or my module grades, but a primer in Life: The Real Deal.

Lessons in learning I won't always get to do things I like, but that doesn't mean I have to hate what I do;
that community and collaboration, no matter how much of a lone ranger I may prefer to be, is crucial to navigating a world built on complex, intricate relationships;
that getting - and staying - motivated is something that you have to fight for, not something that drifts your way;
that failing is inevitable but it's not the end;
that keeping your eyes on the bigger picture is the only way to move forward;
and that simple things and the occasional distraction and indulgence keep life beautiful.

As always, I couldn't have done it alone. One of my favourite quotes, by St John of Salisbury, goes:

"We are like dwarfs sitting on the shoulders of giants. We see more, and things that are more distant, than they did, not because our sight is superior or because we are taller than they, but because they raise us up, and by their great stature add to ours."

So this is the part where I take the time to say thank you. To the mentors and tutors whose lessons expanded beyond the classroom, in particular Dawn Johnston, Ben Young, and Andy Price. The opportunity to learn under your guidance has been a tremendous privilege. Thank you.

To the friends who kept me going and saw more in me than I saw in myself at times, especially Mabel, Nazila, and Justin. You are gems of friends. Thank you.

To all the ones from home whose notes and little packages kept me going through the homesickness, thank you.

To my family, for believing me in their own unique ways that I don't appreciate enough, especially my youngest brother, whose letters and writing have been a quiet, but very real source of strength to me. Thank you.

And of course to my sponsor, YTL Corporation, for seeing something in me to bestow on me the opportunity to do something I had only dreamed of till then, and the individuals who made it happen. Thank you.

Thank you, thank you, thank you. A dozen 'thank you's, silent prayers, and all the best hopes and wishes go out to all of you mentioned above. You make the journey worth it.

The girl of his dreams

via delacroix

Maybe as she lays her head on a tear-stained pillow for the 135th night - alone - and slips blissfully into a world more beautiful than the one she came from, a world with him in it, he wakes up.

Maybe the moment he wakes up he wishes he didn't - wishes he could go back to his dreams, where he found her.

Maybe he gets out of bed and puts on a shirt and goes through the motions of daily life, passing literally hundreds of girls everywhere as he commutes to work or to college and back - some of whom catch his eye but he knows will never catch his heart.

Maybe sometimes when he looks at them he wonders if he'll ever find a girl that understands him or inspires him like she does, and maybe sometimes, if he thinks too much about it, it makes him sad.

Maybe other times he steals a glance at every girl he passes, hoping he'll find something to spark a recognition.

Maybe he wonders if he really met her, or if she doesn't really exist. Maybe he gets tired of trying to find her.

Maybe sometimes, he gets so tired, he allows himself to be distracted by some other girl - if only to stop thinking about her for awhile.

Maybe sometimes it works for awhile - and he forgets about her - and then the slightest thing like a beautiful smile, a brush of skin against skin, a kind word, a gentle gesture from some other girl reminds him all over again of her.

Maybe somewhere down the line he realizes he can't ever forget her, even if he tries. Maybe this thought scares him. Maybe this thought gives him hope. Maybe it makes him want to keep searching harder.

Maybe the next day, as she wakes up, he gets into bed - alone - and escapes into a world where finding her is not so difficult, a world that doesn't seem to limit the time and space between them like the one he came from.

Maybe the last thing he remembers of his time with her in that world as harsh sunlight pulls him back into this one is falling asleep with his arms wrapped around her, and maybe the memory is so vivid, so fresh, that the empty space between his arms and chest is startling and jarring.

I will get to know the way my skin curves around my bones

(via shipwreckedinthedesert)

The start of a new chapter in life, of a transition from what was to what is - always takes me a period of reflection before I finally feel I am ready to embrace the new opportunities of the present.

And this period of reflection often brings with it the ironically familiar surprise that somewhere along the way, I've lost sight. Of who I am, why I'm here, of where I'm going, of what I want.

This new chapter of transitioning from academic life to the working world has been no different. Yesterday I learnt a new term that up till hearing it, I had no knowledge of: "quarter life crisis". I might be going through one of those now.

I'm not supposed to be so jaded at 21, or at least that's the vibe I get from most people I talk to, but since when do life experiences move in a linear pattern anyway? We live, we make mistakes, we get tired, we give up, we pick ourselves up, we learn, we move on... and the process repeats itself over and over again.

I've been in this place many times before. Different chapters, different friendships, different loves, different questions, different struggles - they were all documented somwhere, on some blog, out there in the great vast web. Because of this I've been able to look back and see how I've grown, made mistakes, learned from them, repeated a few more times than I should have, but picked myself up again.

It gets harder each time, it's true. I find myself becoming more guarded and wary of not making any mistakes so I don't go through the painful process of trying to pick myself up from another one the older I get. It happens to all of us as we grow up. Maybe it's not such a bad thing, as long as we don't wall ourselves up so completely we stop growing altogether.

So I guess this is just another one of those parts of the story where I get to start from zero all over again and redefine what's important to me in life and what I want out of it. Notice I said, "I get to". Not I don't have any choice because I don't have any cooler, more kick-ass plan figured out for my life than working a corporate 9-5 job or because there seems to be an hopeless dearth of good, single, passionate men left in the world, let alone my city.

Because I still believe that life is what we make it, and how we choose to see it. I could spend the next three years telling myself that all I have to live for is getting by with just enough, working off my bond and otherwise bumming my life away, waiting for the-powers- that-be to hand me my life's purpose or my perfect soul mate on a silver platter, since I have neither the freedom, opportunity or finances to do anything more exciting, like backpack solo around the world or open a coffeehouse.

Or I could see these three years as a gift. Time given to an intense, unpredictable, impatient, emotionally-voilatile go-getter and overachiever to slow down and let life catch up with her dreams for a bit, to enjoy her youth before it slips out of her grasp, to figure out what she really wants - what 21-year-old her wants, not what precocious 15-year-old or idealistic 18-year-old her wanted. To have her faith in humanity and hope in God restored again before she goes rushing about with the notion that she can make the world or someone else's life better.

To find the courage to face the demons she's been running from and the truth that all this while, her noble ambitions and aspirations have been nothing but attempts to prove that she was better than everyone else, and that those attempts stemmed from a deep insecurity. The truth that all her 'fearless' efforts at loving people she knew were not good for her stemmed from never really believing she could be good for anybody. The truth that the reason she secretly hated authority and the church and men was because she had been hurt by people who represented all of the above and refused to believe that maybe those people didn't represent those groups accurately. The truth that the reason she didn't have good things in her life to celebrate was not because she didn't believe they existed, but that she didn't believe she deserved them.

There's so many things I need to work on. So many things I want to work on. But if I had to pick somewhere to start, I would pick fear. I watched Green Lantern last night and although yes, it was hardly anything to shout about, what struck me was the overwhelming, total destructiveness of fear. I think mankind's greatest threat is not World War III or global warming or tangible things like that - I think our greatest enemy is fear, and the greatest battlefield is in the mind.

The most deadly, totally-consuming things are not bullets or guns or radiation or toxic waste - they are fears.

The fear that I don't matter.
The fear that nothing matters.
The fear that my life will always be this way.
The fear that nothing will change.
The fear that I will be just like my parents.
The fear that my children will be just like me.
The fear that nobody cares.
The fear that I can never bring myself to care again.
The fear that things will get worse.
The fear that I can never pick myself up from something like this.
The fear that life is a mistake.
The fear that I am a mistake.

Fear creeps in silently. But it is potent and will-crippling and mind-numbing and soul-searing. Even anger and hate, in all their explosive fieriness, stem from fear at its very core.

And only courage can overcome it.

As Carol tells Green Lantern Hal, it's not "that you are fearless. It saw that you have the ability to overcome fear. It saw that you are courageous."

Living takes courage, because living is dangerous. It's easier to survive.

It's dangerous to keep trying, again and again, for what you want. when you risk looking a fool. It's easier to settle.
It's dangerous to care because there will come times when caring will hurt. It's easier to not give a damn.
It's dangerous to change because it will be uncomfortable, difficult, and you might slip back into the same old rut, reinforcing your fear that nothing will ever change. It's easier to resign yourself to the status quo.
It's dangerous to hope because you risk disappointment. It's easier to accept the way things are.
It's dangerous to believe your life has meaning, because you will have to chase down that meaning, and when you find it, defend it at all costs, because there are those who would like nothing better to steal it from you, so they can continue surviving safely, conveniently, and comfortably, but fearfully, through life. It's easier to give in to your fears.

I'm getting tired of letting my fears dictate my life. I know I've been in this spot before and said things along this line before, but I'm not going to let the fear of making the same old mistakes and the fear of nothing ever changing stop me from deciding, again, that I'm going to let go of things that hold me back, I'm going to live my life, I'm going to find out who I am and what I want, and I'm going to colour and paint in life's meaning for myself.

 

11 things I could use (more of) in my life

1. Hunting for / photographing pretty things, breathtaking sights, and delicious food.
2. Slow conversations over slow meals.
3. Time to read inspiring blogs like laurennicolelove.
4. Good women. Passionate women. Interesting women. Courageous women. Opinionated women. Real women. I need to be reminded they exist. Actually, scratch that. I need to be reminded that good women and men exist. Good people. Alive people. Passionate people. Kind people. Real people.
5. Seeing other people's scars, feeling other people's heartaches, and hearing other people's secrets - to be reminded I'm not the only one with them.
6. Spring cleaning and remodeling. Everything from my room to my thoughts.
7. Writing fiction and poetry.
8. Seeing, not just looking.
9. Hearing, not just listening.
10. Understanding, not just knowing.
11. Hoping, not just wishing.
12. Living, not just surviving.

6 to 12 is up to me.

But for 1 to 5, (and God knows what I have to say next is something I rarely ever say; in fact, I cannot even remember the last time I said it, in writing or out loud) I need you.

You matter. You're important.

Because just who you are and your presence could make a difference in someone else's life. Like mine.

Are you up for it?

The beauty of the human spirit

After a monotonous hour-long ride on a droning ferry, I finally step foot on Tioman - to find it much more bustling and developed than I had expected. I am greeted by a concrete jetty, rows of brick-and-concrete budget hotels, and swarms of local folk goin about their daily business as in any other small town. With the vast sea at my back I almost wonder for a moment if I'm really on an island.

We set off through the village as I silently ask myself why we travelled 5 hours from the concrete jungle of KL to see more concrete, and if Malaysian budget hotels can be any more aesthetically unappealing. A few Caucasian tourists stroll past, attired in casual beach wear, and the place starts to feel a little more island-y. Upon reaching our place of lodging I discover that we are staying in, alas, another concrete building.

I only finally discover the magic of Tioman when we head to the beachfront for a briefing at the dive center.

We arrive at the beach, a stone's throw away from where we were staying, as the familiar, comforting smell of salt water drifts along on a warm breeze. Facing the beach is a rickety wooden bar, and mellow acoustic rhythms of Jack Johnson drift from somewhere inside it. Under the makeshift structure, backpackers and tanned bar staff laze around on hammocks, while some others connect a guitar and a bass to an amp before live, funky island grooves drown out Jack Johnson's croons.

Next to the bar is Ray's dive center - another small shack where a group of divers have just returned from a dive and are unloading their gear. You can tell who the seasoned old salts are by their tans - rich, dark, golden brown hues - and how long they take to remove their gear. Those two factors aside, one could easily mistake one of the dive students, an Asian Channing Tatum look-alike who filled out his wetsuit marvellously, for an instructor.

Yes, KL is finally starting to feel very far away.

***

I see the world and live my life differently from most people - something that I pride myself on, most days, when I'm not going through the occasional bout of self-doubt.

Ask me about accomplishments like getting my PADI Open Water dive certification, and I won't rave about the deadly sea urchins or huge sea turtle I saw, although it was certainly a beautiful creature. I won't talk about how cold (or in my case, not very cold) the water was or how heavy the air tanks were.

In fact I probably won't have much to say about the dives in themselves - even though all the things I took away from the trip wouldn't have happened if not for the dives.

No, ask me about my diving trip and I'll tell you about my life-long battle with eczema and skin allergies, and how the very things I love - sun, sand, and sea - are all things that trigger my skin issues. I'll tell you how on this trip, my skin flared up worst than it ever has before - to the point of huge, red, scaly blotches covering my arms, legs, and back and my skin feeling sore and bruised when rubbed against. I'll tell you how the battle against the itchiness and discomfort is nothing compared to the battle against the thoughts that everyone is staring at you, and that they think you're a freak, even if they're probably not doing either.

I'll tell you that the beauty that made me stop and catch a breath was not in any of the natural wonders of the sea in all their pristine perfection - it was in a crooked, genuine smile of one of the local bartenders who said, "As long as you have a beautiful smile, nobody will care how your skin looks."

It was in the time one of the dive center staff, a tattooed, ex-navy took to bring me to the local clinic to get some anti allergy pills after his working hours. It was in the way we hitched a free ride to a clinic, and how the doctors didn't charge us for the meds or consultation, not to mention dragging them out of their homes at night after clinic hours - because "that's small island life - everybody knows everybody", and people help each other out.

It was in the tears of a mother of one of the children in our group learning to dive, as she shared her story of her own fight against the eczema her son used to struggle with and the frustration of trying prescription after prescription from doctor after doctor to no avail.

Maybe I take the fact that I've gotten to see so many beautiful places and sights for granted. I've traveled Europe, explored tropical seas (well, as much as an amateur dive student can, at least)... but as I always tell people, "it looks better in pictures". Maybe.

But the privilege of meeting strangers who inspire and restore my faith in the human spirit - the privilege of having their lives touch mine for a brief, but profound, moment - will always be, to me, far more beautiful than any sights I can lay my eyes on. Such beauty goes beyond the visible - beyond toothy grins, tattooed arms, or generation gaps - to a beauty not just seen but felt by the heart.