I'm running out of things to say and the impetus to say anything.
Suffice it to note that I have been extremely busy of late, both in terms of things to do, things to be, and things to ponder upon. And while both my emotional and physical state picks up dangerous speed toward the end of the term, I have learnt to sift my sharing, giving revealing pockets to certain people, at certain times, for certain reasons.
One of which being that i have no energy to engage as such as I used to.
To Joshua and Lyndis: Congratulations and I want to be at table number 2.
Sunday, February 19, 2006
Tuesday, February 14, 2006
Saturday, February 11, 2006
Love it
A lot of talk on love going around these days. Must be the ghost of Hallmark's Valentine's haunting lonely hearts. But of late, I think in the shadowing days of my happy return on Singapore (for a full glorious 8 months no less), I am starting to worry about identity and relationships all over again. In the past 3 years here, I have laughed, loved, lost and cried.
I have made myself a home. This temporal window in Vancouver has had its role in shaping me. And I have gratefully lain roots down in its very, welcoming soil. And I love you all.
So I am going to return to Singapore for 8 months, and it means a lot of things. I am really excited about reconnecting with the Identity that has been granted to me there. I believe that it will require renegotiation. What with all the emotionalism that I underwent with Dennis and giving up my Citizenship, things have definately shifted under the surface. More then I am aware off.
At the same time, it will mean that I hang up interacting with my identity here in Canada. And unlike Singapore, where people stay put. Vancouver is notorious for its transciency, and most of the familiar faces that I have grown to identify with are leaving. To Japan, To India, To China, To Calgary, To America... Mars. And what then of these people who have moved me?
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A lot of talk on love going around these days. Must be the ghost of Hallmark's Valentine's haunting lonely hearts. But of late, I think in the shadowing days of my happy return on Singapore (for a full glorious 8 months no less), I am starting to worry about identity and relationships all over again. In the past 3 years here, I have laughed, loved, lost and cried.
I have made myself a home. This temporal window in Vancouver has had its role in shaping me. And I have gratefully lain roots down in its very, welcoming soil. And I love you all.
So I am going to return to Singapore for 8 months, and it means a lot of things. I am really excited about reconnecting with the Identity that has been granted to me there. I believe that it will require renegotiation. What with all the emotionalism that I underwent with Dennis and giving up my Citizenship, things have definately shifted under the surface. More then I am aware off.
At the same time, it will mean that I hang up interacting with my identity here in Canada. And unlike Singapore, where people stay put. Vancouver is notorious for its transciency, and most of the familiar faces that I have grown to identify with are leaving. To Japan, To India, To China, To Calgary, To America... Mars. And what then of these people who have moved me?
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On a seperate note, I have been revisitng Curt's notion of emotional fornication. This year has been especially bad. While I no longer have emotional one-night-stands with my victims demanding to know why I never call, I have been swimming though majority of my relationships, without commitment or anchorage.
Save for a couple.
So for now, before my energy and spirit finds itself in too many obscure pockets and friendly waves, I will be making an attempt to reconnect with the ones I seek to carry though life, past my university days.
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Save for a couple.
So for now, before my energy and spirit finds itself in too many obscure pockets and friendly waves, I will be making an attempt to reconnect with the ones I seek to carry though life, past my university days.
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And while I am trying to find my center in all this, I will also seek to find the truth about myself.
In that, while being intentionally relational, I will be intentionally true.
And that means relearning how to forgive. For my inability to Forgive, both myself and others, manifests in an inability to seek how others can forgive me. And in doing so, I necessarily distance myself from relationships that have potential confilct grafted into them.
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And that means relearning how to forgive. For my inability to Forgive, both myself and others, manifests in an inability to seek how others can forgive me. And in doing so, I necessarily distance myself from relationships that have potential confilct grafted into them.
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And so it is, just like you said it would be. Life does go easy on me.
Most of the time.
The glare of that much-mentionned brilliance, love,
Broke out, to show
Its bright incipience sailing above,
Still promising to solve, and satisfy,
And set unchangeably in order. So
To pile them back, to cry,
Was hard, without lamely admitting how
It had not done so then, and could not now.
~ Larkin. Love Songs In Age.
Thursday, February 09, 2006
All the promises we made.
I've been having a great couple of days. Very full, very alive, very aware. Looping around in the loop. I would, however, like to get a taste of being a silent observer and being comfortable with that. And herein lies the problems associated with roles and labels: you act like you are made out to be. Yes human agency exists, but only with human awareness.
.
I've been having a great couple of days. Very full, very alive, very aware. Looping around in the loop. I would, however, like to get a taste of being a silent observer and being comfortable with that. And herein lies the problems associated with roles and labels: you act like you are made out to be. Yes human agency exists, but only with human awareness.
.
'You'd make a great politician'
~ 3 very unrelated people.
in 3 very different situations
~ 3 very unrelated people.
in 3 very different situations
Sunday, February 05, 2006
I have a question. Are you going to wear your socks high or low tomorrow?
~ Beautiful
~ Beautiful
Life was so simple back then.
So if it follows then that the reason for our pain, suffering and imperfection is due to our finite natures, then the real sin isn't in what we do, or what we fail to believe in, but in the very fact that we are finite. Or at least, made to me connected with infinite perfection. God. We were made, with the sole intention to be with God, connected with God, expanding gradually into His infinity as we grow in the likeness of Him.
But because we're finite, and that is our crime, it follows then that every good thing we are/have, every positive attribute one might possess is, by virtue of its limited composition, a flaw. Our patience dissolves into passivity, passion into agression, love into idolatry and faith into blindness.
Our strong points, inadvertantly become our weaknesses.
Nothing that we have/are, seperated from the boundlessness of God can be solely good. Therefore, everything that we have/are, the brightest good and cleanest virtures, are broken, dirty and weak. Be humble, for there is nothing good in you that you can claim for yourself. Apart from God, you are but a poor imitation of goodness, worthless like broken glass.
All of us have become like one who is unclean,
and all our righteous acts are like filthy rags;
we all shrivel up like a leaf,
and like the wind our sins sweep us away.
~Isa 64:6
But because we're finite, and that is our crime, it follows then that every good thing we are/have, every positive attribute one might possess is, by virtue of its limited composition, a flaw. Our patience dissolves into passivity, passion into agression, love into idolatry and faith into blindness.
Our strong points, inadvertantly become our weaknesses.
Nothing that we have/are, seperated from the boundlessness of God can be solely good. Therefore, everything that we have/are, the brightest good and cleanest virtures, are broken, dirty and weak. Be humble, for there is nothing good in you that you can claim for yourself. Apart from God, you are but a poor imitation of goodness, worthless like broken glass.
All of us have become like one who is unclean,
and all our righteous acts are like filthy rags;
we all shrivel up like a leaf,
and like the wind our sins sweep us away.
~Isa 64:6
Saturday, February 04, 2006
Fake Plastic Earth
I have a tendency to overwork myself. It wears me out.
I have a tendency to overwork myself. It wears me out.
She figured that if she walked in late, Dr H would have a little more time to settle in from class. And god knows how stressful it must be being a professor, in a worldclass institution no less. Drat! Too late. Does ten minutes seem polite? Or just tardy? Rude maybe? Relaxed, to a fault? To a fault! She darts, as much as she can, across the colourless campus, weaving around and inbetween inconsiderate laggards, lovers and the lot. Jerry comes round the corner, breaking her into a smile. Familiar faces do much for her, they bring a surge of life, like water from a whale's blowhole. Powerful and ungraceful. But what does that matter? Grace, she decides quite woefully, is overrated. The face pulls away from her and she sweeps herself along. That's the thing with familiar faces: they stay that way, familar.
What about intimate?
Anyhow, it might have been the hazy view of the Northshore mountains, the naive couples trailing by, but her thoughts drifted, as they .always. do, to carefully crafted conversations, situations...
She ends off powerfully emotional. Triumphant no less, with tears strategically welling up with just the right level intensity to sculpt her point out of pure rage. Sigh, life in the mind can be so much more satiating, then life in the real world, she tells herself, before cautioning her inner demons that this really is just a result to control. Sheer power is what she seeks. But what does that matter? She strides into the Asian center, taps on the handicap button and actually is lazy enough to wait for the darn door to open for her.
Does ten minues seem polite? Dr H doesn't seem to mind. "Have a seat" yes. I was going to anyhow. She checks her presumptiousness just before her hands grab the cusioned backing of the aged chair infront of an antique desktop, in a world class institution no less. You definately could see where the priorities lie here.
They sit, postures polite and language professional. Negotiating their relationship and the days to come. Amazing isn't it? How two complete strangers, two seperate lives can agree to... agree. This was one of the rare moments where she didn't wonder who this other person was. What stories built you? What lives moved you? None of that. Just correct talk and proper protocol, because she needed from her.
When did this happen? That her needs overrode the importance of true knowledge? That was when she realized, that she was to be an independent adult. And independence, almost always means isolation in order to fulfill a need. Gravity always wins. And in your universe, you are almost always the most weighted mass that exists.
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What about intimate?
Anyhow, it might have been the hazy view of the Northshore mountains, the naive couples trailing by, but her thoughts drifted, as they .always. do, to carefully crafted conversations, situations...
She ends off powerfully emotional. Triumphant no less, with tears strategically welling up with just the right level intensity to sculpt her point out of pure rage. Sigh, life in the mind can be so much more satiating, then life in the real world, she tells herself, before cautioning her inner demons that this really is just a result to control. Sheer power is what she seeks. But what does that matter? She strides into the Asian center, taps on the handicap button and actually is lazy enough to wait for the darn door to open for her.
Does ten minues seem polite? Dr H doesn't seem to mind. "Have a seat" yes. I was going to anyhow. She checks her presumptiousness just before her hands grab the cusioned backing of the aged chair infront of an antique desktop, in a world class institution no less. You definately could see where the priorities lie here.
They sit, postures polite and language professional. Negotiating their relationship and the days to come. Amazing isn't it? How two complete strangers, two seperate lives can agree to... agree. This was one of the rare moments where she didn't wonder who this other person was. What stories built you? What lives moved you? None of that. Just correct talk and proper protocol, because she needed from her.
When did this happen? That her needs overrode the importance of true knowledge? That was when she realized, that she was to be an independent adult. And independence, almost always means isolation in order to fulfill a need. Gravity always wins. And in your universe, you are almost always the most weighted mass that exists.
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Today, I also learnt that God doesn't guide us.
Nowhere in the bible did God promise guidence.
But he promised a Guide.
Guidence must come with the guide, as information from the informer.
It's a life of prayer, not divine fortune cookies.
Nowhere in the bible did God promise guidence.
But he promised a Guide.
Guidence must come with the guide, as information from the informer.
It's a life of prayer, not divine fortune cookies.
Friday, February 03, 2006
The Earth is the Lord's
The beautiful thing about choir is that it rings with you for the rest of the evening. There is something magical about music and it's ability to speak in the stillest of moments and uplift the soul. And singing... I swear I enter each note as if in the presence of royalty, and through some unfathomable arrangement, dissolve into its timbre as if I were mere light.
and the fullness thereof
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My demons will follow me through life, I am still tormented by the foolish young things I have done. And my demon's aren't really all that bad, a slip of the tongue here, an embarrassing moment there, but still enough to bare my brokenness. Now what then of those who's demons are deadly? Who's fiends are big enough to swallow them in their shadows?
Such hope must exist.
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My demons will follow me through life, I am still tormented by the foolish young things I have done. And my demon's aren't really all that bad, a slip of the tongue here, an embarrassing moment there, but still enough to bare my brokenness. Now what then of those who's demons are deadly? Who's fiends are big enough to swallow them in their shadows?
Such hope must exist.
