Lately, I've been struggling

Struggling with trying to grieve the unexpected loss of a close colleague and friend. I've never lost someone I saw on a daily basis and finding my way around this maze of grief is so new and unexpected to me and I don't know how to deal with it. One day I'm fine and the next moment there's a lump in my throat. Another day there's anger, at the doctors and circumstances just being out of everyone's control.

Struggling with letting go of a dream I thought I would spend the next few years chasing. It was only a short and brief few months I spent pursuing the dream of owning a cafe and now I'm having to refocus and figure out what to do next. This dream may not be a "never", but it's definitely not a "right now". But it's challenging when you're trying to make a good business succeed in the sort of economy we live in, coupled with lack of experience and limited capital to run with.  It's tough, knowing everyone had cheered with you to see you finally chase a dream you've held for years - and then having to backtrack and explain to people that the dream has to be put on hold for now. 

Struggling with moving on from one full-time job, to freelancing and juggling two part-time jobs. I remind myself of the reason I'm so passionate about owning and running my own business - to make more time for family by being able to manage my time better. But I'm quickly realizing that even when you're your own boss, if you've spent a lifetime cultivating the habit of being a people pleaser, even though you think you have control of your time you still end up frittering it away, trying to make everyone happy. And that reality is a tough pill to swallow. 

I'm struggling with being newly married and trying to deal with all these changes at the same time. There are days, although they feel few and far in between, where it does feel like the "honeymoon period" people so often talk about. But the truth is, most of the time, it feels like I've been thrown into the hard, gritty work of trying to make a marriage work and deal with life at the same time right from the get go. In my naive idealistic teenage dreams, I'd take a month off work to prepare and plan for my wedding. I ended up working through all these other life transitions and my wedding came in second. I told myself it's just "one day", and I know in the long run I might be proud of choosing to focus on other important things instead of planning a fairytale wedding, but right now, it's hard not to compare myself to every other bride who seems to have all the time in the world to hand make her decorations, accessories, bouquets, and so on. 

I'm struggling with dealing with an eczema flare up that has now lasted for seven months. All the above transitions has stressed me out so much that no matter how much money I spend on creams, supplements, watching my diet, and going for skin calming facials, the redness and itchiness still doesn't go away. I had make up not only on my face, but on my hands the day I walked down the aisle because of my eczema. Did I look beautiful? With make up on and in pictures, perhaps. Did I feel beautiful? No. I felt like I was hiding. 

I've been struggling with getting enough sleep. I toss and turn for hours before falling asleep and I struggle with getting up in the morning because my bed seems much more appealing than trying to deal with another day of slathering creams over myself, trying not to compare myself to every other beautiful person I know, trying not to be overwhelmed by all the sadness and loss in the world, trying to take care of myself better and not always be so worried about what people think, and just trying to stay positive and strong. 

I've been struggling with just getting older and having more to deal with. As a teen, even though I had wild mood swings and periods of aimlessness as well, I always managed to bounce back and stay optimistic. But I realize now I had so much help from parents, mentors, and leaders who kept constantly checking in on me. 

I'm struggling with being an adult. As an adult, it often feels like I can't be the one whining anymore, and I'm supposed to have a few more things figured out, be looking out for others, instead of just letting others look out for me. As an adult, it's harder to admit that you're struggling. Because it's seen as a sign of weakness and incompetence and everyone, friend or acquaintance, could eventually become someone you work with or do business with - and work is he last place you want to be seen as weak. I struggle, yes, but I still get up and get the job done as little as I feel like it. I just wish it was okay to admit that more often. 

I'm struggling with saying the right things, expressing it the right way, and trying to make people understand that it's not any one thing in particular, that I'm not being withdrawn for no reason, that I'm not avoiding lengthy conversations because I don't want to talk to you, but because I don't know how to honestly answer the question "How are you?", and that I'd really like to explain all this but I don't know how or where to start - except through writing. 

So this is my start at trying to explain what feels like the longest year of my life so far. 

Water: The promise of hope and renewal

I was watching Yann Arthus-Bertrand's documentary, "Home" last Sunday with the fiancé (I have to get used to not saying boyfriend!) and was particularly moved by the part of the film which talked about the earth's water cycle.

"The Earth's water cycle is a process of constant renewal.

Waterfalls, water vapor, clouds, rain, springs, rivers, seas, oceans, glaciers... The cycle is never broken.

There's always the same quantity of water on Earth.

All the successive species on Earth have drunk the same water.

The astonishing matter that is water.

One of the most unstable of all.

It takes a liquid form as running water, gaseous as vapor, or solid as ice.

In Siberia, the frozen surfaces of the lakes in winter contain the trace of the forces that water deploys when it freezes.

Lighter than water, the ice floats.

It forms a protective mantle against the cold, under which life can go on.

The engine of life is linkage.

Everything is linked.

Nothing is self-sufficient.

Water and air are inseparable, united in life and for our life on Earth.

Sharing is everything.

Our Earth relies on a balance, in which every being has a role to play and exists only through the existence of another being.

A subtle, fragile harmony that is easily shattered."

As Malaysia faces an onslaught of drought coupled with haze due to forest fires, and having gone two weeks without water at home, I was struck by how much we take this simple privilege of running water for granted. In the past week, my eczema and sinuses have flared up all over again, leaving me desperate for rain to come again soon. The word "drought" seems far too primitive for a modernised, connected city like Kuala Lumpur - and yet if I pause long enough from my high-speed urban lifestyle it hits me that the lack of water is in fact an everyday reality for so many other countries. In fact, those who have less of it probably know how to value it more and use it more efficiently.

For me, lack of water is an inconvenience - maybe even a pain. For others, it's a matter of life an death. Almost 770 million people around the world do not have safe, clean water to drink. 2.5 billion people don’t have access to a proper toilet. And every day, 1,400 children die from diseases directly linked to unsafe water or a lack of basic sanitation facilities.

The news that this water rationing will continue for another whole month and that our dams are just slightly above 40% water levels (below 40% is considered critical) almost seem straight out of a novel or a newspaper archive. With choices and conveniences just a click away, it seems so out of place that our modern, high-tech society can be brought to a halt by the absence of something so simple and often overlooked as water.

But nature humbles us in that way. Be it snowstorms, thunderstorms, sandstorms, tsunamis, earthquakes, hurricanes, typhoons, hail, drought, famine, epidemics - nature puts us in our place and reminds us where we stand in the grand scheme of things. It shows us that our self-centered perspectives of the world are merely illusions and we are so, so fragile. So connected to the earth in billions of intricate ways, most of which we have only the faintest idea of. And when we don't care for the environment around us like we should, we pay the price.

Forest fires are not natural. Vanishing rainforests are not natural. Rivers that stop flowing into the sea are not natural. Depleting mineral and precious metal reserves are not natural. They are the result of greed, self-centredness and arrogance, each generation before thinking they were the center of the universe, that resources were unlimited, without ever stopping to think there might not be any left for the generations to come. It breaks my heart to think about all the diverse species of flora and fauna that have been wiped off the face of the earth completely - whichever theory you subscribe to, either species that were so painstakingly and artfully crafted by a master craftsman, or species that fought long and hard to change, grow, adapt and survive in order to become what they were.

Sometimes I wonder how we can undo the damage we've done. What can a few hippie tree huggers with a bunch of signed petitions and slogans do to change the way businesses operate for economic profit or to change the tide of endless consumerism, the quest for more and more material wealth? Thinking about it all makes one feel very, very small in the scale of things.

But water teaches me the important lesson that life is a cycle of renewal. And renewal simply means restoring things back to their original, untainted state. With every sunrise, new season and every rainfall, comes the promise and hope of final, and ultimate renewal. A day when all the damage we've wreaked on the world will be erased once and for all, and we will see life as it always should have been from the start. In seasons like this, my soul aches and longs for that day to come. 

"May your choices reflect your hopes, not your fears"

The week Alex that told me he had asked my parents blessing to marry me - was the week I flipped out and considered calling the relationship quits. In fact, I asked for a one-week break from all forms of communication so I could think things through without distraction. Call it cold feet, commitment phobia or whatever you may, that week was one of the main turning points of the relationship... the point at which I knew in my heart that I had made a decision and there was no turning back.

This was in January... and fast forward two months later, when he finally proposed last weekend, my "Yes" seemed like the most natural thing in the world to say. Because I'd already taken a long, hard look at whether this relationship was something I could see myself devoting myself to for the rest of my life.

I've always wondered how it felt like to 'just know' that you're ready to spend the rest of your life with one person. I'd never ever felt that way in any of my previous relationships. There was always something that didn't quite fit, that didn't add up. In my logical, pragmatic mind the best thing, when in doubt, was always to let go and move on. Preserving my freedom was important to me, and the whole notion of 'settling down' didn't quite sit well with my perspective that a relationship should be an adventure that opens you up to more of life's possibilities, instead of narrowing your options down.

Yet there were many times I wondered if I would end up on the shelf after everyone had 'settled down'. So, afraid of being alone, I settled time and again for guys who were not too bad. Who treated me nice and were generally good people. But they didn't share the same values and dreams I had or the same thirst for independence and adventure, and it just wasn't enough.

I often wondered if I had the most unreasonable demands. I felt guilty in every relationship I got into, fearing that I would somehow never be able to match up to the other person's expectations of what an Asian girlfriend should be like. I was often told that I 'intimidate' guys, because I liked being alone too much, had way too many opinions about everything, loved adventure, hated routine or repetition, and was incredibly self-motivated and driven to make something meaningful of my life, even if it meant leaving other people behind if they didn't share the same ambitions.

But I knew I wanted a man, not a boy. Someone whom I didn't have to hide my true colors from. Who was comfortable enough in his own skin and confident enough in his own ability to handle me for who I am - headstrong, stubborn, opinionated, independent and all.

So I decided to stop dating just because I was afraid of ending up alone and unwanted. In fact, I decided to stop doing anything just because I was afraid. I wanted to stop being motivated by fear, but by hope instead. After being disappointed and having my heart broken so many times, I desperately wanted to believe that there were better days ahead. I knew that change began with me, and with not being afraid to hope for what I really wanted.

I have never been the most optimistic person. Being highly pragmatic, I've always tended to be critical, pessimistic and judgmental. I could be a master in the art of imagining worst-case scenarios. But I decided to stop using my personality as an excuse.

I chose to believe that life is what we make of it. If we choose to be positive, no matter how bad things are, we will always find a silver lining. If I choose to live in a way that is big-hearted, generous, adventurous, and on occasion, all-out crazy, then I will attract someone just like that to do life with.

Maybe it is unreasonable to expect so much out of life. Do I really deserve it anyway? Maybe not, if I chose to think that way. But I believe that we attract - and accept - the love we think we deserve. If we value ourselves, we will find ourselves surrounded by people who value us. I wanted to believe that I was worth the kind of love I hoped for.

Nelson Mandela once said, "May your choices reflect your hopes, not your fears." That was the perspective I held on to as I stepped away from years of unhealthy mindsets, wrong assumptions, warped perspectives towards relationships and bitterness from the past.

And as I did, I stopped being so afraid. I stopped being afraid of 'settling', or on the other end of the scale, of 'being alone' because I was too afraid to settle. I stayed open to hope. It took many tears and many nights of soul-searching, but I had to let go of stupid fears like the fear of not reaching my target of being married by 24. Like the fear that it would just be a matter of time before I start feeling suffocated again like in all my other relationships. Like the fear that if Alex really knew me for who I am, he would think twice about wanting me. Or the fear that memories and hurts from our past relationships would be carried into our current relationship.

I was gripped by fears like these when I called for the break. We had been having several heated arguments in the weeks leading up to the break, and there were times it felt like we were on completely different wavelengths. Out of fear, I retreated back into my safety zone and distanced myself emotionally, distracting myself with work. At that point in time, work seemed genuinely more rewarding than the relationship. It made no demands, asked no questions, had no expectations. It gave me results in return for effort. So simple, uncomplicated, fuss-free. So unlike relationships.

And there I discovered my biggest fear - not that he wasn't right or the relationship wasn't right - but that I wasn't right. I wasn't ready to lay down my life to submit to another person, I wasn't willing to give up my rights and my independence. I wasn't good at dealing with my own emotions - how could I possibly be able to deal with another person's heart?

So I told him I needed some time out to think the relationship through, expecting a backlash and a questioning of whether my heart was really in this relationship. I expected him to fight, to cling on and try to persuade me to talk things out instead of just disappearing for a week, to start thinking and fearing the worst. If he did, I would be able to use that as the basis for why we would never work out anyway. But he didn't.

He said, okay, go ahead. And I began to sense that finally, here was a man in tune with my heart, who knew I needed some time to sort things out. Who was not afraid of losing me if it was for the better, who held me as loosely as he held everything else in his life - as gifts loaned from God for a little while, to be cherished, but not owned. Who knew that as much as he wanted to fix things, he wasn't the right person for the job.

In that one week, I went to the One and only person who could do that job. I poured my fears out to Him - that I was not good enough, that I had commitment issues, that I didn't deserve to be loved. And as I listened to myself, all I heard was 'I', 'I', 'I'. He gently began to remind me, that the cure to all my fears was to fix my eyes not on myself, but on hope. Hope for brighter tomorrows and for grace to guide us through every disagreement. Hope that we will not only survive the tough days, but that those days will draw us even closer together. And hope that the reason we are in this together is because the potential for what we can do together is greater compared to what we can do alone.

By the end of the week, the fears stopped mattering so much. I saw enough hope in the relationship to know I want to give everything I have to make it work. I know I'll have to keep working at it, keep seeing enough hope in it, keep letting go of the fear, but for now, my "Yes" is a start. A start of saying yes to learning to be less selfish, discovering I can still be myself and go on adventures even when there's someone beside me (it's actually more fun!), and learning that where there's faith, hope and love, there's no room for fear. 

We accept the love we think we deserve

There's a popular saying that goes, "We accept the love we think we deserve."

For a long time, I wondered about the kind of love I was accepting. I wondered if my standards were too high and so I lowered them and settled, over and over again, for 'good enough'. I often tell people I've dated and met enough guys to know all the different types there are out there. I used to wonder if there was 'someone better' out there, something I was missing out on by choosing to settle with the best guy I could find who wanted me. Time and time again, it never worked out.

There was a season in my life that I used to wonder if it was just people like me - the soulful, free spirits who need space to dream and wander and explore and discover new adventures - that struggled with the thought of meeting the right one and finally 'settling down'. Those two words never quite sat well with me.

The idea of committing to someone who would become my best friend, who knew me inside and out, who brought out the best version of me, was certainly appealing - the old fashioned, old school kind of love where a guy would take risks just to impress the girl and win her heart, and where she would enchant and captivate him by her beauty and grace. The part of it that did not appeal to me, however, was giving up my own interests and dreams.

During that season, I used to think that the only way for me to truly be happy was to not be tied down - to hold close the people I connected with, but without being exclusive. Giving them their space to be them - and having my space to be me. Yet there was always the part of me that craved the knowledge that out of all the other people in the world, we chose to be faithful to each other.

My main struggle was how difficult it was to be completely myself and completely honest with the other person in committed relationships I'd been in. Once you start caring too much about another person, you start thinking you own them. You try to control their actions and choices. And oftentimes, you end up suffocating the other person.

It's different with strangers. With strangers, you can be completely honest and transparent - there's no withholding who you are because you are afraid of hurting the other person. Find the right time and place (late at night in a quiet location usually works well), and it's not difficult at all to pour out your entire life story and deepest darkest secrets to a mysterious, enchanting stranger over coffee or drinks. But try telling someone you've known for some time the things you struggle with the most, and it's not always as easy to open up. How will they react? Will they see you differently? Will they be angry at you for not telling them earlier? Will they try to give you unwanted advice? Will they want to be around you any less? There is so much more at stake.

Maybe you can't be lovers in a committed relationship, I thought. Maybe in committed relationships, the love is a pragmatic type of love based on companionship and mutual acceptance and understanding. The passionate, romantic kind of love is reserved for relationships that exist purely for the purpose of enjoying each other without the messiness of tying each other down with commitment. In my experience, relationships I'd been in had either been sparks and no commitment, or commitment and no sparks, neither of which suited my taste.

This month marks the 15th month since I started dating Alex. In my books, that's a record. One year and a quarter is five different seasons that have come and gone. In those seasons, I've changed and grown and had my perspectives turned inside out so completely that I feel sometimes like I'm a different person altogether. One of the things that past fifteen months have taught me is that it's worth choosing not to 'settle', but to keep hoping and holding out for the best.

Two years ago, I wrote a blog post about things I look for in an ideal partner. Some people told me my standards were too high and unrealistic, that I should look at myself first before asking for these things in a partner, some even questioning whether I worth all of the things I was looking for and asking me what if I found a guy who was all those things but who didn't think I was all that awesome. In fact, I got more flak than positive feedback from writing that post (you can read the comments by following the link above if you're curious). But I'm glad I wrote it, and I have absolutely no regrets or apologies, because exactly the right person who needed to read that post did read it, and thought that maybe he would have a stab at being that ideal person...

...and fifteen months into the relationship, I still have absolutely no regrets. I had my doubts, plenty of them. I questioned the lack of 'sparks' and why the relationship felt so platonic. But those 'spark-less' months revealed to me the enormous amounts of effort that both of us were willing to put into making the relationship work simply because of the amount of respect we had for each other as individuals. It surprised me, the number of times either one of us could have easily walked away, but we didn't. Because it's not every day you find someone who stands for the same values as you do.

And those months also taught me that while sometimes, 'sparks' fly at first acquaintance, other times, the flames take time to simmer beneath the surface before flickering to life. And I've learnt that I've found someone who can handle me at my worst, craziest moments, who can deal with the most ridiculous things I say, who accepts my need for long periods of alone time, my innate dislike for PDA, my inability to keep time accurately, how anal I am about grammar and using words that say what they mean, the experiences and memories I've had from all my previous relationships, and the occasional crushes I have on other people from time to time.

It's nice to have commitment in a relationship - the knowing there's someone you can always count on to have meals with if everyone else is busy, the usual 'Good morning' text, the predictable familiarity of someone you've become completely comfortable with. But it's also nice to have the spontaneity and freshness of constantly discovering new things about the other person in every new season life brings - and revealing new parts of who I am as I grow and change. It's nice to be able to be completely transparent and not be judged - to be able to say "There's this thing I really don't like when you do", or "I think you're really amazing but there's this guy I think is really amazing too. Not that I would ever want anyone else but sometimes you get mini crushes on people and find a new person really fascinating, you know what I mean?", or "This book absolutely changed my life. Would you want to read it too?" In all of the previous scenarios, it's been all too familiar to have the other person completely misunderstand, get angry, feel threatened or insecure, or worse, simply not even care.

But it takes someone special to see all those conversations as keys to discovering who I really am, stripped of all pretense and fronts, completely honest and vulnerable. And that's what being in a relationship is really about in the first place, isn't it? Knowing your heart is held in safe hands and being able to let down your guard. And knowing that you are able to do the same for the other person as well.

Looking back now, I'm glad I never settled. It's been a winding, curvy, bumpy road with plenty of detours and u-turns made along the way, but in the end, I've gotten everything I've ever wanted - and more. Despite what others have said and despite my own doubts, I've learnt that I've got a big-hearted, loving and generous Father up there who knows all my heart's desires and who gives abundantly above all I could ask. I am truly grateful.

Rebirth

"Awareness born of love is the only force that can bring healing and renewal. Out of our love for another person, we become more willing to let our old identities wither and fall away, and enter a dark night of the soul, so that we may stand naked once more in the presence of the great mystery that lies at the core of our being. This is how love ripens us -- by warming us from within, inspiring us to break out of our shell, and lighting our way through the dark passage to new birth.”
― John Welwood

you keep dancing

"...though we can't undo what has been done, we can choose to begin again. to stand in the sun and let the shadows fall behind us. to throw off our shame, fear and anger. to see our beauty and our brokenness." // Freeway

"When you dance, your purpose is not to get to a certain place on the floor. It's to enjoy each step along the way." // Wayne Dyer

"What is the point of doing XtraMile and everyone out there thinking you're suchhh a hero when you couldn't even care about this relationship?!?" I screamed. And even as those hurtful, sarcasm-drenched words came out of my mouth, I felt a pang in my chest because those words sounded exactly like words that my parents have said to me before. Words that I swore never to repeat to anyone else.

"You are involved in so many activities, you serve in church, you're a leader and everyone thinks you are soooo angelic, and you can't even clean up your room or listen to your parents?!?" Ouch.

I remember that feeling well - the pain of disappointing the people closest to you, of giving your best but somehow, your best intentions get lost in translation and is completely lost on those nearest and dearest to you. No amount of encouragement and compliments from the rest of the world makes a difference when you feel like those closest to you don't even believe in you. And here I was, making someone else feel that exact same way.

If you're like me, you're a people-pleaser. You genuinely live to put a smile on someone else's face. And you want to be a world-changer. You will pour your heart and soul into a cause if you believe it will change things. But sometimes, in the midst of all the people-pleasing and world-changing, we end up hurting the ones we love the most. Somehow, when life accelerates to top speed, we tend to neglect the simple things. Like saying "Good morning". Like hugs and kisses. Like dinner together.

So often, we assume that those dear to us should just "know" the amount of things of our plate and understand that our priorities need to be "slightly" readjusted "temporarily". But perspective is always subjective, and it's easier to see things from just one point of view. We assume because they know us so well, they will be more understanding and forgiving. But often, when conflict erupts, we find out along the way that even those closest to us don't understand or know how much we are struggling to cope.

It takes one sarcastic remark that spilled over from a stressful day at work to trigger a full-blown three hour argument. But equally, it takes one small "I'm really tired - I need your help with this" to help the other person understand what you're going through. It's those small remarks that make all the difference between a relationship growing stronger or falling apart when life hurls incredible pressure your way.

Yet knowing those things doesn't make it any easier to take the high ground. Knowing that an honest answer is better than a sarcastic one doesn't stifle that human impulse to just want to vent my frustration somewhere, anywhere, and most often it ends up directed towards those closest person around.

Life happens. Arguments happen. So how do we deal with it? One of my colleagues shared this perspective, after going through a tough season with her daughter: "I tell myself that people act their worst, with those they feel the safest with. That's because they know that no matter how bad things get, you won't walk away from them."

And it's true. So often, we react to conflict defensively, because we feel like we're being targeted. But very often, the conflict arises when one side is desperately trying to reach out for help, but is being misread. Conflict happens because two parties care. Otherwise, it would be easier to walk away.

There have been many times I've felt like running away from relationships. Like giving up on trying to build bridges and communicating because sometimes it feels like the other party is not putting in as much effort as I am. But I'm learning that relationships - whether at work, with family, or with my partner - cannot be about counting and comparing. Nobody wins that way. Rather, a relationship is a balancing act, a dance. Both parties take turns supporting each other, accommodating each other, forgiving each other. One of the pastors in the church I go to said, "When you work with people, toes are bound to get stepped on. But when that happens, you can complain, or you can dance with it."

And I'm learning that sometimes, you choose not to walk away, not because you don't ever get hurt. You stay because somehow, in the midst of all the hurt, you've found a safe place. You've found someone who may not always agree with you, but who cares deeply. You've found someone who may not always meet your expectations, but whom you can trust.

So what do I do after a three-hour long argument that stretches into the wee hours of the morning, right after the adrenaline and exhaustion of a hectic XtraMile weekend, knowing that a few hours later, I have to be back in the office, planning for two more upcoming huge events that are just a couple days away? I shed a few frustrated tears, let out a sigh, take a deep breath, say sorry, wash my face, go to bed... and just start all over again. For as long as you can keep finding that safe place, somehow, you can can keep trying again. With the relationships that really matter, you always find a way to start again, and you keep dancing. 

Being a leader is tough. It's tough when people are looking at you to set the pace, set the tone, set the expectations, and know all the answers, when half the time, you yourself are clueless. It's tough when you invest in people, and they give back less than their best.

But it's also so, so rewarding when you see people whom you have poured yourself into mentoring and grooming - start to blossom, and start to even overtake you in skill and ability. Now that - that is SO worth all the pains of being a leader.

On change and new discoveries

One of the things I am learning as I grow up is that changing your mind about something is not the same as selling out or being untrue to yourself or abandoning your values. It's accepting that as a young person, your experiences are limited, and therefore your perspectives about things are limited as well. And it's okay to look back at realise that the way you look at certain things has changed.

As a child, I used to think to myself, "When I become a parent, I wouldn't do this, this and this", or "If I were a wife, I wouldn't say this, this and this". I wondered why adults didn't have things figured out. I was idealistic and naive. I thought to myself, "It's so simple - if it were me, I'd do it this way." I used to be so sure of what I wanted - and what I wanted was to be different from everyone else, because I was sure I had things figured out.

And the more I grow up, the more I'm learning to graciously accept the wisdom of those around me. I no longer see that as "giving in" or "bowing" to the opinions of others - I'm learning to accept that I don't always know everything, and I'm not always right. I used to look at all my parents' flaws and tell myself I never wanted to be like them - but these days, I see more and more things that I admire about them - values I want to cultivate in my own life and pass on to my children too.

I used to tell myself I could never see myself in the corporate world, that boardrooms and bulleted PowerPoint slides were too limiting for a free spirit like me. But I'm glad I changed my mind and I now find much fulfilment in what I do. And people ask me, "But how can you just give up who you used to be?". I don't think it's so much giving up who I used to be, but discovering more of who I am. That I am not a one-dimensional being. Yes, I am artistic, creative, and non-conformist, but at the same time, I also enjoy putting order into things and finding patterns and process flows in the midst of chaos. It's not a contradiction - it's an extension of who I am.

I used to find folding laundry and hanging clothes a painful chore. I'm glad I stuck at it long enough to get to a place where I now find the fresh smell of just-washed clothes therapeutic and calming.

So often, I hear people saying, "I can't do this, because I'm this type of person", or "Oh, that's so not me", or "That's not my kind of thing" - and I want to say to them, don't limit yourself! Don't limit your experiences.

I love telling these stories of how I used to be an introvert, how I used to hate meeting new people and how conversations with strangers were always painfully awkward, because every single time the disbelief in their eyes cracks me up. "You?!? But you seem like such a sociable person!" Well, it sure didn't happen overnight. And it wouldn't have happened if I decided, "Well, that's just not me so I'm not going to make an effort to try."

So don't be so quick to say you can't. Don't be so quick to say no to things. Don't be so quick to give up on things that seem to be going nowhere. Give things time. Give people time. Give yourself time. And learn to accept that even if you lived to be a hundred, you'll keep discovering new things about yourself. Yes, it will take courage. It's always scary to venture out into the unfamiliar, untested unknown. But I think we are far more equipped and capable to take on challenges than many of us realise.

And life is really so much more enriching when it's filled with challenges and new discoveries along the way. :)

"Change your opinions, keep to your principles; change your leaves, keep intact your roots." // Victor Hugo 

"I have accepted fear as part of life – specifically the fear of change…I have gone ahead despite the pounding in the heart that says: turn back." // Erica Jong

Love is acceptance

The longer I stay in this relationship, the more I find that love is not so much about falling for all the endearing things the other person does or being swept off your feet by that person's charm - it's about learning what it means to accept another person just as that person is, quirks and flaws, and to give that person the space to be wonderfully, uniquely imperfect.

It's discovering that the way that person says certain things gets you really annoyed, but deciding you can live with it. It's realising how tempting it is to snap when the other person makes a mistake, but deciding to let out a huge sigh and bite your tongue instead. It's not necessary liking or agreeing with that person's decisions, but letting him make them still. It's sometimes disagreeing when it comes to things like style and dressing, but being proud to be seen beside that person anyway.

It's not easy to come to that place where after many arguments, you realise that even the worst of arguments wouldn't be a reason to leave, because you've come to that place of mutual acceptance that is so hard to find. And when you're at that place, it hits you that there's probably no one else on earth whom you know better or who knows you better - but at the same time, you've both grown so much in your own ways and continue to encourage each other's personal development that you also know there will be so many parts of the other person that will remain a mystery. And that's okay.

Because love is not about always being the first thing on that's person's mind in the morning, or the last voice you hear before you drift off to sleep. It's not memorising a person's favourite colour or remembering her favourite food. It's knowing that life is never so simple, that your routines will change, and so will your favourite things. And it's knowing that life can change as much as it likes but you're still going to stick with this one person out of the six billion others on the planet.

It's that calm and quiet assurance that even when real life kicks in and gets real crazy, no matter how late you'll have to work, no matter how far the distance from each other, no matter how different the backgrounds you come from, no matter all the challenges and stresses that life throws your way - you know that you've found someone who accepts you and your crazy work hours, your overbearing mother, your overseas ambitions, your expensive hobbies, your weird friends, your demanding boss, or your busy schedule - someone who just accepts you, and everything else that comes along with the package, because that person knows you can't pick and choose what you want in love. And someone whom you can accept as well.

And when you're in that place, you both know that while understanding is ideal, you don't need to understand to accept. While encouraging the other person to change, especially if it's for the better, you don't try to make projects of each other. While the other person's feelings is of utmost importance to you, you don't let yourself be weighed down by them. Because accepting another is not trying to 'fix' that person but simply understanding that it's okay to have emotions and 'this too, will pass' - and just walking beside that person until the storm blows over.

But acceptance is not resignation. It is not giving up hope that things won't get better or that the person will ever change. It is making peace with the journey, and knowing that nothing happens overnight. And it's learning to smile through the tears, to dance in the rain, and to just enjoy the ride.

“I am one of the searchers. There are, I believe, millions of us. We are not unhappy, but neither are we really content. We continue to explore life, hoping to uncover its ultimate secret. We continue to explore ourselves, hoping to understand. We like to walk along the beach, we are drawn by the ocean, taken by its power, its unceasing motion, its mystery and unspeakable beauty. We like forests and mountains, deserts and hidden rivers, and the lonely cities as well. Our sadness is as much a part of our lives as is our laughter. To share our sadness with one we love is perhaps as great a joy as we can know - unless it be to share our laughter. 

We searchers are ambitious only for life itself, for everything beautiful it can provide. Most of all we love and want to be loved. We want to live in a relationship that will not impede our wandering, nor prevent our search, nor lock us in prison walls; that will take us for what little we have to give. We do not want to prove ourselves to another or compete for love." // James Kavanaugh

Three things my parents taught me that they don't teach in school

1. That if you're going to dream, dream big. 

"You want to be a writer?" my parents asked me. "You want to be an artist?" they asked my brother. "Well, then be an author with a book on the NY Time Best Seller list," my dad would say. "Be an artist and hold art exhibitions around the world." My parents never put a cap on our dreams or told us we couldn't. They never let the fact that they didn't get a university education be a glass ceiling for us - just because they didn't get the opportunity, it didn't mean that we couldn't. And while we still have a long way to go, I think for the fields we've chosen, we've done pretty well, all without going to renowned schools or colleges. At 21, my brother has designed album covers and merchandise from top local bands to international acts - the kind of opportunities his peers would die for. I've had opportunities to travel, be part of international movements, and meet all sorts of interesting, different people. All because my parents never told us we couldn't.

2. That they couldn't teach me everything - but reading is so important to growth and development. 

I grew up reading books at the dining table - while my mum spoon-fed me - and on my "throne" as I was doing potty business. My brothers and I fell asleep listening to bedtime stories - a privilege, I later discovered as I grew up, that many peers in my generation never had, with parents that were often away, working till late at night. I loved words - "the swing and swirl of them as they tangle with human emotions" - and it was through reading I decided to pursue writing and communication. My brother was not so much a reader - but he was a very visual person - so my parents made sure he "read" picture books. He would occasionally end up drawing on them, and sometimes interpreting and illustrating his own different ending to the story, but aside from a mild reprimand, I think my parents were just happy that we read. If we ever complained about being bored, my mum would tell us to "read a page of the dictionary - you'll learn new things and increase your vocabulary". If we had questions, they would ask us to read about it, whether in an Encyclopedia or by researching it on the Internet.

As a young working adult, I'm so grateful that instead of using the TV and computer games to babysit us, as my parents could have easily done - they chose the tougher way of cultivating in us a love for reading. I believe that is what has given me an edge because in an information-saturated world, the ability to digest information and analyse it critically - all of which reading will teach you - is so important.

3. There's always something to learn in everything.

Long car rides during outstation trips were never boring. They would always be accompanied by commentaries about the caves or mountains we were driving past, or fun bits of history about a town we were driving through. When we watched movies, my parents would ask us what we learned, and then summarise what some of the good things were that we should learn from the movie, and the other things that we shouldn't follow. My parents didn't believe in mindless entertainment - but to bring a sense of wonder and curiosity into everything you do and encounter. 

Why I stopped waiting for someday

"You will always be waiting for tomorrow if you don’t start living for today. You will always be waiting for the next big thing to come: the job, the degree, the partner, the house, the time to travel, the money. Once you get into the mindset of perpetually waiting, you’ll also fall into the habit of not being okay with things as they are. More likely than not, you will get most of those things, and when they come, you won’t enjoy them because you will only be looking forward to the next thing. You may retaliate with, well, there’s nothing to be happy about now, but you have to learn to make it for yourself. You have to learn to see it." // Thought Catalog

Last week, I went on one of the best holidays of my life. You know, one of those totally-unplanned-spontaneous-random kind of vacations. The kind that involves trying many things for the first time, from walking along Welsh seaside cliffs in the summer to visiting an aquarium alone, to wandering through Camden Town, to trying out new hipster coffee joints in London; the kind that involves travelling alone, travelling with friends, and making many new friends along the way.

I don't know why I waited so long to take such a holiday. In fact, I didn't deliberately take the holiday - it more of came to me, suggested and encouraged by people along the way who probably knew I was in dire need of a long overdue break.

I'd been telling myself I don't have the budget to go away somewhere and enjoy myself, that my team at work needed me too much for me to possibly think of escaping for a week, that a holiday wouldn't be as fun without my partner or close friends, and that travelling alone was lonely (I'd travelled alone last year, and while I enjoyed most of it, I hated being alone at night, long plane / train / bus rides solo, and standing alone at cold, windy train stations with no warm arm to hold on to).

And so I was subconsciously waiting. Waiting for the ideal situation to get away. Waiting for things to settle down at work. Waiting to save 'enough'. Waiting for friends to block out the dates on their busy calendars so we could plan a getaway together. Waiting to get married, even, silly as it sounds, so I could travel conveniently with my other half.

In hindsight, it seems ridiculous. I don't know how I could've tried so hard to resist a getaway that was so deliciously refreshing and soul-rejuvenating, because it's taught me so much.

I've learned that my team can survive a week without me. That I don't need to be with my best buddies or be married to find fun travelling companions. That somehow even on a tiny budget, enough comes along once you make the decision to go. Wow, big surprises there.

I've learned that it's okay to have fun alone. That having fun alone doesn't mean you don't think about the ones you left behind any less; that it's possible to enjoy yourself and miss someone at the same time; that you're not caring any less by doing that; that by doing so, you're making the most of the only thing you have any real control over - where you are right now, in the present. And I think I've finally stopped telling myself I have commitment issues, and accepted the fact that it is completely possible to be both independent and attached at the same time. I can choose to stay tied to my roots, while not letting them dictate my happiness or state of mind.

I've learned that making new friends means more people to say 'goodbye' to, and while goodbyes are never fun, they are bearable. I used to be the kind of emotionally stunted person who started distancing myself every time another friend started making plans to go abroad, because I just didn't know how to say goodbye. I suppose in some way, I was trying to protect myself from the yucky feelings that come with goodbyes. But I've learned that sometimes just blurting out "OMG I'm going to miss you!" makes the yucky feelings slightly more bearable. And it also brings you that much closer to people.

I've been reminded that I don't spend close to enough time alone. That there's so much self-searching and reflection that can be done in a simple hour-long walk around the neighbourhood on a blustery day.

I've learned that strangers can make for pretty good conversation, once I forget my shyness and Asian paiseh-ness and just speak my mind or initiate a greeting first.

I've learned that go-with-the-flow doesn't have to be stressful - that it's possible to plan to have no plans, and let things catch you by surprise! That I don't have to have a meltdown if I got on the wrong Tube line but I can spend my time people-watching the interesting characters around me; and that if plans fall through to meet one friend I can always schedule a meeting with another.

Most importantly, I've learned that while sometimes waiting is good because it teaches you patience, other times, waiting is simply living in denial. If it's an ideal situation we're waiting for, it will never come.

I've learned that life is all about choices. We choose to be as content or happy as we want to be. We choose to be as calm and exuberant about each day as we want to be. We choose to be as busy or stressed as we want to be. We choose to work as fast or walk as slowly or love as hard as we want to. We choose to see things as we want to see them.

And we choose if we want to keep waiting for 'someday' or 'The One' to come, or if we want to get up and make today a special, beautiful, wonderful day, and to love the ones we do have in our lives right now.

To sum it up with a quote from the wise ol' Albert Einstein, here's why sometimes we just can't afford to wait any longer and just gotta get with it:

What good arguments look like and why they're so important to a relationship

This morning I had a little tiff with the partner over something trivial - one of those "I thought you knew", "But you didn't say", "But it goes without saying", "But you also didn't say" kinda things.

After about ten minutes into the conversation, when it started to get a little silly, I exclaimed in frustration, "It doesn't make sense - I don't even know who's wrong or what's wrong and it's so frustrating!" To which he calmly replied, "Things don't always have to make sense. There's nothing wrong. It's just that you have a mind of your own, and I have a mind of my own, and we're both trying to work at understanding each other. That's all."

And immediately it hit me how true that was - arguments don't always need to make sense, and they don't always need to have a clear winner or loser. The reason arguments happen - the good ones at least - is because two people who express themselves and see things very differently are simply trying to get across to each other in the way that they know how.

He laughed and reminded me of the arguments we had just a few weeks ago when his phone stopped working properly and every phone call was barely audible and a test in patience. I truly believed that the faulty phone was the main reason for our arguments, but even with his new phone, here we were again, bickering over something else. "See, whether or not we have problems with our phones, whether we have frequent connectivity or contact with each other or not, as long as there is communication, there will be misunderstandings."

It's true - arguments are never just about what is being argued over. It's not just about that thing or that situation or that comment or that mistake - it's about individual hearts longing to be understood, frustrated at not being able to understand.

We continued the conversation over a good dinner at a beautiful restaurant, which led to a little bit more understanding, and eventually trailed off to other topics, interspersed by bouts of jokes and laughter. Even though the day was started on a tense note, it eventually ended on a great one. And that's what good arguments should do for a relationship.

Good arguments should leave you with a little bit more insight into what makes the other person ticks - they should bring you closer together, in fact. Because with each argument, you understand that much more about the person than anyone else does. It's not just the happy, good moments together that strengthen the foundation of a relationship. It's every single thing that makes the relationship you share unique, special, intimate, and exclusive - including the arguments. 

Fiery Tom Yum at BBQ Thai

If you fancy being whisked away to the land of smiles for a night but can't afford the flight ticket, BBQ Thai might just be your answer. The restaurant has been opened since the beginning of the year and attracts plenty of customers nightly, packing full house crowds on weekends.

Dining is al fresco style at BBQ Thai, and the moment you step into the compound you are greeted by the sight of small private dining rooms in quaint little colourful huts, accesorised with quirky chic deco and the odd tuk tuk.

The restaurant offers both Thai BBQ meat platters as well as more staple Thai street fare, such as fried rice and noodles, as well as tom yum and the green / red curries.

Serving sizes are huge, so it is advisable to go in a group of friends so you can try a larger variety of dishes. Between two of us, we shared a small pot of tom yum (RM15 - chicken; RM20 - seafood), which turned out to be huge, easily serving 3-4 people, a plate of Thai-style fried kuey teow (RM14), and a dish of stir-fried paku-pakis (RM13). All in, plus drinks, the bill came to about RM47 for two, reasonable considering there were leftovers to tapau home!

Warning: Their spicy tom yum soup, while being strong-bodied, potent, and flavourful, is not for the faint-of-heart. It packs a whopping punch, leaving your stomach on fire long after you've finished your meal!

When it's not too packed, service is top-notch, with our food arriving in less than 10 minutes. On another occasion when the place was busier, however, staff were unhelpful and service was slow, so try to visit this place on weekdays instead of weekends.

The place is pretty simple to find. From the Mid Valley circle, turn out to Old Klang Road and immediately keep to the left. On the left side of the main road, you'll be able to spot a bright neon pink sign with the restaurant name on it. There's ample parking in the vicinity for customers only.

BBQ Thai 
17 Lorong Jugra
Off Batu 3 1/3, Jalan Klang Lama
58000 Kuala Lumpur
Tel:  03-79819888

Introducing the Samsung 4G Chromebook: A new way to look at personal computing

I am an unabashed early adopter with an ardent enthusiasm for all things new. Whenever Facebook or Google+ gets an interface makeover, or when Gmail sneakily slips in new features and buttons without warning, instead of moaning about how I'll have to get adjusted to the new layout all over again, it gives me a renewed sense of purpose to continue visiting the site, to see what else it can now do.

So when I was given one of the earlier versions of the Samsung 4G Chromebook for work use at the start of this year, way before it was launched to the public last weekend, I was thrilled. And after personally using the Chromebook for a few months now, I can honestly say that the Chromebook is my new favourite device, among my smartphone, iPad, laptop, and desktop.

In fact, I've barely touched my tablet and laptop since the Chromebook came around. My phone has been relegated primarily for calling and messaging purposes, and I only fire up my desktop PC because I need to use Adobe Creative Suite software. For everything else, there's the Chromebook.

After demoing and selling the Chromebooks at our launch roadshow over the weekend, the most frequent questions I've encountered are the following, and the answers I give are below:

1. How will I use my Microsoft office software on the Chromebook? Is it compatible if I need to send files to other people who use Microsoft?
With Google Drive, you have web equivalents of your common Microsoft software, such as Docs instead of Microsoft Word, Presentations instead of PowerPoint, and Spreadsheets instead of Excel. For most of the functions of these programs, Google Drive is a formidable alternative. The benefits of using Google Drive is that you don't have to a) pay for software licensing, and b) constantly update your Microsoft Office suite every year. The Chromebook automatically updates itself every 6 weeks, so it always stays new, without the need to download / buy / run / install anything at all. And files created on Google Drive can be exported into all the commonly used file formats, no there is no compromise on compatibility with other operating systems.

2. Is it really that easy to use?
Yup. If you know how to surf the web, you know how to use a Chromebook. There is no OS on the Chromebook - it runs purely on the web. It doesn't lag or slow down over time, and it takes just 8 seconds to start up from the time you press the "On" button.

3. What is the processor / hardware that the Chromebook uses?
It uses the Samsung Exynos 5 processor. While I am no techie person, I asked one of the product guys to explain the benefits of the processor to me, and what he explained was that basically, the processor belongs to the same family of processors used in mobile devices such as the Samsung SIII and the Galaxy Note (both use the Exynos 4 processor). What that means is that it is designed for lightweight mobile devices and therefore, it is very energy-efficient and doesn't heat up the computer. I can personally attest to the fact that even after hours of continuous use, being laid completely flat on a table or on your lap, the Chromebook doesn't get hot at all. It also uses a 16GB solid-state drive, so that browsing speeds are at an optimal level.

4. So I need to be connected to the Internet all the time to use the Chromebook? That's quite inconvenient / expensive.
In today's world, most of what you do on a computer requires an Internet connection anyway. If you live in urban / suburban areas, your office and home will likely have wireless connectivity that is already paid for. The Chromebook is WiFi-enabled so you can switch to that setting when you're in areas with wireless Internet. The Chromebook also comes with a built-in 4G chip that connects you to the Yes 4G network, so even if you are on the go, you don't need any third-party external device (eg. a USB Dongle / a mobile hotspot) to get connected to the web.

5. Basically it can do whatever a tablet can do, so why should I get a Chromebook?
At just 1.08kg, the Chromebook is only slightly heavier than a tablet, so it gives you the mobility of a tablet (I actually stick my Chromebook into my handbag almost daily) - but with the richer experience of a laptop. Without a keyboard, and with a smaller screen, the browsing experience is significantly slowed down and diluted on a tablet. So yes, you can do essentially the same things on a tablet - but why would you, when you can have the full laptop experience at a fraction of the weight (and price)?

Some other things that I think are pretty sweet about making the switch over to the Chrome OS:

• The Chrome Web Store boasts plenty of free and beautifully designed apps, most of which are compatible across PC / Android / Mac - no more paying for apps that you can only use on a selective system (*cough* like Apple *cough*). 
• The Chromebook comes with 100GB of cloud storage space on Drive that can be assigned to any Gmail address (you can reuse your existing ID if you don't want to switch over to a new one). 
• No more worrying about viruses or trojans because there is no OS to attack.
• If your device gets damaged / stolen / lost, not only are your files safely stored in the cloud, but you can also prevent anyone else from gaining access to your files, because everything is tied to your personal ID and password, plus, if you've forgotten to log out, you can always log in on any other devices and force log your ID out of any other locations it is signed in to. Your information has never been this safe before! (Disclaimer: As long as you don't forget your password! But with increasing integration between different cloud-based services, how hard is it to remember just one ID and password?)
• Google Drive has no "Save" button, because everything saves automatically, and you can revert to older revisions of any document based on the timestamp. So if you accidentally delete your work or do something silly, you can rest assured that your work will not be gone just like that.

To sum it up, as a TIME tech author eloquently put it, "the point of Chromebooks isn't Chromebooks". The point of Chromebooks is not about the device at all. The point is to make devices irrelevant. The release of the new 4G Chromebook heralds a new era in technology - one that is built not on latest versions of programs and hardware, but on a web- and cloud-centric view of personal computing.

To understand more about how the Chromebook works, watch this video:

Or, visit this website.

Feedly: An clean, simple alternative to Google Reader

Earlier this year, Google announced that they would be retiring Google Reader from service this July. Like many other avid readers, my first reaction was one of horror - where else would I access all my feeds in an aggregator as efficient and minimalist as Google Reader?

One of the popular aggregators at the moment is Flipboard, which is beautiful, yes, but it's designed primarily for mobile device use, and casual browsing, not to consolidate, tag, and archive a huge amount of feeds like Google Reader. It's visually-driven, which means slower loading times and a reading experience that doesn't quite cut it (you have to click out of the reader to read a long text post). I mostly use Google Reader for well, reading my news articles and blogs filled with lengthy reflections on life, so Flipboard just doesn't do it for me.

Feedly - where the minimalistic, sleek look of Flipboard meets the efficiency of Google Reader

And then I discovered Feedly while searching for alternatives on the Chrome Web Store. A straight-forward, no-fuss, simple feed reader that does for me what Google Reader does. It automatically migrates all my 100+ feed subscriptions to its reader, sorts out what I've read and what's new quite similarly to how Google Reader does, it allows you to tag / save for later individual posts, and has seamless sharing buttons for all the major social networking sites.

I am one happy camper now that I know my feeds have made the migration over to an equally capable aggregator. Also, I am so impressed that after automatically migrating all my feeds from Reader, Feedly intelligently sorted them based on their content into broad categories, placing my John Maxwell feeds under "Leadership and Development", for example, and all my food blogs under "Food & Living". Impressive.

Have I mentioned how clean and beautiful the Feedly interface is too?

What I want for every single kid

I've been volunteering to teach English and Math tuition to a group of underprivileged Standard 3 kids who live at a low-cost housing area in Subang as part of my church's community outreach efforts since January. For the last three months, progress has been slow and frustrating, with many of them unable to confidently grasp the topics that they should have mastered at their level. 

I found myself wondering if I was really making a difference, if there was something wrong with the approach we were using of trying to drill the concepts into their head - surely, if they were not grasping the concepts in school, how could I, with no background in their teaching, help them do any better? And two hours once a week is so little time, and they have so far to go - how could it make a difference? 

Nonetheless, inspired by the recent TEDxKLChange during which a video talk by Sugatha Mitra was screened, I decided to take a cue from his hole-in-the-wall experiment. 

Because of what he had experienced first-hand with hardcore poor children in the slums all over India, he came to the conclusion that every single kid, no matter what their background, has the innate ability to learn and discover, and it simply needs to be encouraged and drawn out.

He says, "If you allow the educational process to self-organize, then learning emerges. It's not about making learning happen. It's about letting it happen. The teacher sets the process in motion and then she stands back in awe and watches as learning happens."

"There was a time when Stone Age men and women used to sit and look up at the sky and say, "What are those twinkling lights?" They built the first curriculum, but we've lost sight of those wondrous questions. We've brought it down to the tangent of an angle. But that's not sexy enough. The way you would put it to a nine-year-old is to say, "If a meteorite was coming to hit the Earth, how would you figure out if it was going to or not?" And if he says, "Well, what? How?" you say, "There's a magic word. It's called the tangent of an angle," and leave him alone. He'll figure it out."

Inspired, I decided to put some time aside to plan and prepare for several new approaches to the session with the kids today that focused on giving them ownership of their learning, and motivating them by encouraging and rewarding personal progress. The session went better than I expected, and I experienced many small wins in the two hours I spend with them. 

Here's a summary of the new initiatives I tried out and how they went:



Class Dojo

Class Dojo was a behavior management app I stumbled across while doing some research for my company. As the kids walked into the community center, I got them to ‘register’ by typing their names in and to pick a colourful avatar to represent themselves as soon as they came into class. I explained to them that this was a system to reward good behaviour and progress in their work, for example if they helped a friend with their work, or if they did really well or finished their work quickly. I told them that at the end of the class, the two kids with the highest marks would be able to pick a mystery prize from a box of goodies I brought. 

Even though I only had a small laptop screen, the kids’ eyes lit up to see their names and their chosen avatar on the screen - it gave them a sense of ownership and community. The kids were very enthusiastic about keeping track of the points, pointing out who was helping who, and who had finished their work. This really helped keep the class of six in order without very much effort.

Previously, they used to be very shy and hesitant to interact with each other as they were still not familiar with each other, and tended to do their own work in isolation, only interacting with the rest when they got bored and started bickering or being cheeky or kicking each other under the tables. 

Having a mini PowerPoint lesson

Normally, because of a lack of preparation, I used to dive right into the workbooks and use verbal explanations along the way when they didn't understand something, which was really frustrating as their command of English is terrible and my command of BM is equally terrible, so often, verbal explanations get lost in translation.

Today, I started off with a PowerPoint presentation that I took some time during the week to prepare. The kids were very excited the moment I told them we were going to learn something from the computer. Normally, it's hard keeping their attention for even 15 consecutive minutes without one or another starting to misbehave. Throughout my short lesson, their attention was fixed on the screen and they started getting excited when I showed them pictures and examples of the different types of nouns that there were. I realised that having that short presentation (even though they had to crowd around the computer to see it) helped the kids warm-up and get into the topic of focus for the day. 

Showing them a lot of visuals and to explain the different types of nouns really captured their attention and got them thinking about and picturing in their heads more types of nouns in the exercises that they did later. The session was wrapped up with another recap of the lesson to reinforce what they had learned, and all the kids read out loud from the screen very enthusiastically. 

Worksheets

Today I decided not to use the normal fill-in-the-blank workbooks (which often come with a standard bank of jumbled up answers to pick from, which I've noticed makes the kids 'tembak' or try to guess by way of eliminating the right answers, without being really fully confident that their answers are correct). I printed out visually-attractive worksheets off the Internet instead. The kids got really excited about the new worksheets but were stumped as to what to do at first. I purposely chose worksheets with open-ended instructions such as write down as many nouns that you can see around you as possible. As first they were like, "Teacher, susah la ini" (Teacher, this is so difficult!), but I took my laptop and went back to what was presented in the slides. I reminded the kids of the different types of nouns and gave them a few suggestions to get started, and then left them to it.

They started asking questions (“Teacher, is this a noun? Is that a noun?”) and even discussing their answers among each other, which was a huge step from previous classes where the kids just expected to be spoon-fed the answers. 

Nurul

My biggest personal 'win' today was with one of the girls I particularly struggle teaching. Nurul has not been very participative, is constantly distracted, and withdraws when I ask her a question in the middle of the class. She has more trouble with English than the rest, and so when I ask her questions in front of the rest, I get the vibe that she feels put on the spot, and so she just refuses to answer. I have tried spending one-on-one time reading with her, but she can barely last for more than 2-3 pages of a Grade 2-level Peter and Jane book (usually with me having to demonstrate at least once first how to pronounce almost 80% of the words) before she gets tired and distracted.

Today, after I had dismissed the class, I was going through a Peter & Jane book with one of the other girls who stayed back to read. Nurul came alongside me, at first just out of curiosity. She started reading out loud with the other girl. The other girl then walked away about halfway through the book, so I asked Nurul to continue reading on, not expecting much. Not only did she continue reading, but she kept reading even when the sentences started getting harder. And she was actually pronouncing many of the words correctly!

She did come to a point where she used her favourite phrase, "Cikgu, penat lah" (Teacher, I'm dead tired of this), and because she had made it so surprisingly far, I said, "Okay, you can go because you've done so well. You're such a good reader!" But despite her complaining, something made her stay on for the next few pages, and before I knew it, we were at the last page of the book!

I was blown away by what just happened - it hit me that so many of these kids that are labelled 'difficult' or 'slow' actually have just as much potential within them as much as the next kid. Sometimes it just takes a bit of time to see it, the right environment to coax it out of them, a bit less pressure, a bit more motivation, and that potential reveals itself suddenly and unexpectedly. Not because you 'taught' it to them or forced it out of them - but because you actually realised it was already there and all that was needed was just some encouragement.

I want every kid to have his very own 'Aha!' moment 

When I started teaching at the Court 2 community center, I wondered if I was really cut out to be in education. Sure, I work in an edutech company so I understand a lot of the theories and principles of the field, but how much actual hands-on experience have I had? I respected and admired the Teach for Malaysia Fellows from afar, marvelling at their passion for teaching and their heart for the students they often affectionately refer to as 'my children', but I did not feel that same burning passion.

But today it hit me - I love watching kids experience that ‘aha!’ moment as they learn and discover things for themselves. I saw it today with Nurul. I saw it today as the class threw questions at me and as I explained why something was or was not a noun, they started going, “Ohhhhh...” 

I love seeing kids eyes light up when something finally 'clicks' in their head, and they finally compute why something is supposed to be a certain way. I love watching that look on their faces because it reminds me of how much I loved learning new things as I grew up.

As a homeschooler, I was not forced to learn - my curiosity to learn was cultivated and encouraged by my parents. I learned how to make potato print patterns as a toddler, how to make papier-mâché bowls at six, taught myself to bake brownies at 11, set up an online baking business from home at 17. My parents gave us the liberty of using the computer for learning at a time when that idea was still very futuristic and scary to many parents. I fell in love with Geography as I watched videos of the Grand Canyon and Niagara Falls. My education, rather than making me feel bored and stifled, ignited my imagination and made me feel like the world was the most amazing place to explore and discover.

It dawned on me today that I want that same experience for every kid. I want every kid to have his very own 'Aha!' moment - in fact, lots of those moments. I want them to not be afraid to ask questions and to know there's no such thing as a stupid question. I want them to discover what they're good at, and to realise that they can use what they're good at to help others. 

I realised that in whatever capacity, whether it be behind-the-scenes in an office designing material for a edutech company, or by hands-on volunteering at a community center, or through organising the XtraMile Run to raise funds for a school that gives underprivileged children a chance at a good education, I want to use what I have to work towards that.

Carrot cake with cream cheese frosting

Over the weekend, I satisfied a craving to bake by whipping up some home-baked carrot cake with cream cheese frosting! 

As I savoured the smell of carrots and cinnamon wafting from the oven in delicious anticipation, I was especially reminded this Easter that the reason we break bread and drink wine together to remember this significant weekend. It's a reminder that God came down in flesh, in 3D, to provide us with an unforgettable, multisensory experience of Himself. 

There is nothing less sacred about quiet moments in the kitchen with God than in church where a huge band is playing and a powerful speaker in preaching. God came down to earth so His love could penetrate every area of our lives - our waking, our sleeping, our eating, our working, our relationships.

Hope you had a wonderful Easter, everyone!


Simple carrot cake recipe
From Allrecipes.com
INGREDIENTS:

4 eggs 1 1/4 cups vegetable oil 2 cups white sugar 2 teaspoons vanilla extract 2 cups all-purpose flour 2 teaspoons baking soda 2 teaspoons baking powder 1/2 teaspoon salt 2 teaspoons ground cinnamon

3 cups grated carrots 1 cup chopped pecans 1/2 cup butter, softened 8 ounces cream cheese, softened 4 cups confectioners' sugar 1 teaspoon vanilla extract 1 cup chopped pecans

DIRECTIONS:

1.	Preheat oven to 350 degrees F (175 degrees C). Grease and flour a 9x13 inch pan.
2.	In a large bowl, beat together eggs, oil, white sugar and 2 teaspoons vanilla. Mix in flour, baking soda, baking powder, salt and cinnamon. Stir in carrots. Fold in pecans. Pour into prepared pan.
3.	Bake in the preheated oven for 40 to 50 minutes, or until a toothpick inserted into the center of the cake comes out clean. Let cool in pan for 10 minutes, then turn out onto a wire rack and cool completely.
4.	To Make Frosting: In a medium bowl, combine butter, cream cheese, confectioners' sugar and 1 teaspoon vanilla. Beat until the mixture is smooth and creamy. Stir in chopped pecans. Frost the cooled cake.