let's go to space

"come see what my kids did!" aunty kim beckoned excitedly, laughing as she wrapped her arms around one of the little boys giggling beside her.

"they were showing me space! they said, aunty kim, want to go to space?!?"

i quickly ran over to see what was going on. the lights in the boys dorm were all switched off. the surrounding area was pitch dark by then, as the phnom penh village still had limited access to electricity. yet it was too early for these boys to possibly be sleeping. what could they be up to?

i reached the window of one of the dorms and peered in.

space.

it was like i'd peered into a vortex of a million and one brightly glowing stars. stars everywhere i looked - on the walls, the ceilings, the floor. i couldn't help but gasp at how beautiful it all was, until i was quickly distracted by little boys jumping from the top of one bunk bed to another, fighting each other with lightsabers.

and then it caught my eye. how the magic all started.

a bunch of genius little boys had cut open the tubes of the glo-sticks we had given them earlier and were proceeding to fling their glowing contents everywhere and on everyone. there were little glowing aliens running around everywhere chasing each other with glo-juice on their backs, laughing hysterically.

it was impossible not to burst out laughing too.

the lost boys, was what immediately came to my head. carefree, wild, and full of spirit, just like the boys in peter pan.

and then i walked over to peer into the next dorm, and the scene changed. one of the boys waved at me and shouted, "see our club! we're going clubbing!"

a portable speaker complete with glowing led lights then suddenly made an appearance out of nowhere, and started pumping out club hits. a ring quickly formed around a group of little boys who were dropping some sick dance moves as they faced off in the circle. the glo-juice harvesters had made it to the club too, and were flinging sparkly, glowing liquid over the dancers.

only in cambodia.

these kids barely saw their familes. barely had a place to call home. on the surface, it seemed like they had next to nothing, but maybe, looking closer, they had everything that was needed for a good life.

a heart full of gratitude. for food in their bellies and a place to sleep. but more importantly, people around them to love and be loved by.

maybe they even had more. i mean, how many city kids would be able to do what they just did, i thought. fling glo-juice everywhere and not get the whacking of their lives? maybe these kids know more about joy and contentment than our city kids with all the gadgets, toys, and amusements that money can buy.

i want what these kids have, i thought to myself. to own no things - but to own everything.

to spend days filled with laughter, spontaneity, company, merriment, imagination. to wake up on a hard wooden bunk bed one morning and go to space at night.

i want to experience life like that.

simple. eyes washed in wonder. 

Relish11.5 - Sunburn

Even in this innovative age we live in where we all seem to have our camera phones with us at all times, there are going to be moments that simply don’t get caught on film or pixel. What was one such moment, that you know lasts in your memory right now, but that will fade as time goes on? Describe it here, as if you have the photo right in front of you.

Sunburn

Bobbing along on undulating turquoise waves, propped up lazily on our orange life jackets, sun kissing our backs. You telling me your stories, and I telling you mine. Drifting further and further out until everyone on the beach looks like tiny ants. Getting stung by invisible bitey sea monsters. Trying to push each other off our lifejackets. Thinking I could do this for a million years.

Relish11.3 - Transit

Nowadays online marketers and those in the know will tell you that your time and attention are the new currency. That’s probably true. But what I’m thinking about is where did you spend the most  time this year PHYSICALLY? And why? If your attention is marketing gold, then surely your actual presence must say something about who you are as well. So where did you invest your time?

Transit

Some rights reserved by Ilja

I started the year in London. Since then, I've been back to university in Middlesbrough, Paris, back to Malaysia, started working in the heart of Kuala Lumpur, and up and down one of Southeast Asia's highest mountains, Mount Kinabalu. I've spent more time in trains, cars, and airplanes this year compared to any other year in my life. And while I'm hardly a jetsetter, I've done quite a bit of travelling by my standards this year.

And I guess this does reflect what 2011 has been for me - a year of transit. Much like waiting for trains and in departure lounges to be hurtled out into the new, exciting, and unfamiliar, this year has been filled with a lot of waiting, a lot of impatience, the occasional delay and setback, and ultimately, many, many new experiences. We all change as we grow up, but it feels like I've done more changing and stretching and growing this year than any other year before. I've been hurled out of my comfort zone again and again... and I've survived.

And I will keep traveling. I travel because life is motion, like a flowing river, always moving forward, and I travel to feel that motion, that rhythm, to hear my heartbeat pounding in my ears, to feel the rush of blood through my veins, to remind myself that I am alive.

I travel because if I have one life to live, I want to live it in the real world, not through a movie or a book or someone else's story. I want to watch the movie of my life unfold; I want to write and read the chapters of my own story.

It's been an amazing journey so far, but as all travel addicts will agree, once you get started, you can't stop! So here's to many more exciting new journeys ahead for 2012 and beyond.

Changed

A week ago before I left for Kota Kinabalu to climb one of Southeast Asia's highest peaks and to enjoy some time out, my youngest brother asked me, "When are you coming back?"

To which I replied, "I'm not coming back."

To which he gave me a blank, "whatever" sort of stare. "Serious la..."

I replied, "Seriously, the person that will be climbing down the mountain won't be the same person that climbed up."

It's true. 

I've known for some time now that travelling changes you like little else can. Yet somehow, it still catches me by surprise every time I travel and change, grow, and stretch myself a little bit more. 

Someone once wrote that "no journey carries one far unless, as it extends into the world around us, it goes an equal distance into the world within." 

The past five days in KK have done just that. 

I climbed to the peak of Mount Kinabalu, the burden of my backpack weighing down on me, carrying also the burden of past mistakes, people who have hurt me, and things I needed to let go of. 

I trudged through pelting rain and cold winds, knowing that as cold and miserable as the rain was it would wash away the dust and dirt of everyday life and leave things fresh and new again. 

I watched the landscape and weather change as we trekked through dense tropical jungle, through rocky, temperate hills, and finally, over massive bare granite slabs, as I thought about how the landscape of my soul has changed as I journeyed through different seasons in life.

I battled with my mind telling me, "you can't make it", to push through the last few stages of the climb, where the peak felt so close and yet so incredibly far. I fought with my heart against giving up on hope, love, and second chances that felt so close and yet at the same time, so impossible for someone like me.

I pushed myself out of my comfort zone to do the very last things I wanted to do, things that scared the crap out of me, like ice cold showers and being vulnerable. 

I depended on others - to guide me, support me, encourage me, inspire me, motivate me, walk beside me, and tell me that it's okay and I'd make it through when I doubted myself. 

I let go. Of expectations, of things that weighed me down, of excuses, of the fear of things changing. 

I embraced the change.

And changed.

Five days away, and I came back a different person - skin a little tanner, legs a little more sore, one more item checked off my bucket list. 

But beyond that, I've come home a little bit more satisfied, a little bit stronger, and a little bit braver. 

I conquered not just a physical mountain, but also intimidating mountains in my soul. And I've learned not so much that I'm stronger than I think I am, but that I have a Source of strength I can draw from that is more than enough to compensate for my fears, my weaknesses, and my doubt. 

I've learned that journeys are meant to be shared, and that it's okay to need others. I've learned that I can say, "I don't know if I can do this," and not be judged or criticised for it, that there are plenty of generous people willing to lend a helping hand or an encouraging word, and that travelling is  a lot more fun in good company. 

I've been reminded that although this journey through life is often difficult, long, and arduous... it is also so heart-breakingly beautiful. And no matter what discouragement or setbacks you may face, everything is worth it for the moments that come and steal your breath away along the way.

I'm learning to live a little bit deeper within myself. To chase after my goals and dreams, even if I'm not sure I have what it takes to reach them. To always stay open. To hope, to life, to love, to change... to new beginnings.