tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-82658928936058811742024-03-14T23:10:44.603+11:00belle.reinventionreinvest | reinspire | renew | stay relevant <br>
Beautiful people do not just happen. It's very easy to judge a book by its cover, but you never know what journey a person has been to get to where they are today. We all have our stories.DrBellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01826173957042335316noreply@blogger.comBlogger148125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8265892893605881174.post-35130977398140171042023-07-17T13:37:00.004+10:002023-07-17T13:37:56.836+10:00the art of sharing words<p><span><span face=""Segoe UI", "Segoe UI Web (West European)", "Segoe UI", -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, Roboto, "Helvetica Neue", sans-serif" style="background-color: white; border: 0px; font-feature-settings: inherit; font-kerning: inherit; font-optical-sizing: inherit; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: italic; font-variant-alternates: inherit; font-variant-east-asian: inherit; font-variant-numeric: inherit; font-variation-settings: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">I think about how words weave us together, how they stitch us back up when we feel entirely split down the middle, how they offer an outreached hand and an offering of companionship, how they sustain and support. I think about how what we might assume isn’t anything important or significant ends up being a lighthouse in someone’s day, even if only our own, and what else is more important than that? To turn on the light for one another by way of choosing to say what we have to say? To read the flicker, the glimmer, the words </span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: "Segoe UI", "Segoe UI Web (West European)", "Segoe UI", -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, Roboto, "Helvetica Neue", sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">others</span><span face=""Segoe UI", "Segoe UI Web (West European)", "Segoe UI", -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, Roboto, "Helvetica Neue", sans-serif" style="background-color: white; border: 0px; font-feature-settings: inherit; font-kerning: inherit; font-optical-sizing: inherit; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant-alternates: inherit; font-variant-east-asian: inherit; font-variant-numeric: inherit; font-variation-settings: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span><span face=""Segoe UI", "Segoe UI Web (West European)", "Segoe UI", -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, Roboto, "Helvetica Neue", sans-serif" style="background-color: white; border: 0px; font-feature-settings: inherit; font-kerning: inherit; font-optical-sizing: inherit; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: italic; font-variant-alternates: inherit; font-variant-east-asian: inherit; font-variant-numeric: inherit; font-variation-settings: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">choose to shine out into the world, becoming more ourselves for their having said what </span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: "Segoe UI", "Segoe UI Web (West European)", "Segoe UI", -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, Roboto, "Helvetica Neue", sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">they</span><span face=""Segoe UI", "Segoe UI Web (West European)", "Segoe UI", -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, Roboto, "Helvetica Neue", sans-serif" style="background-color: white; border: 0px; font-feature-settings: inherit; font-kerning: inherit; font-optical-sizing: inherit; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant-alternates: inherit; font-variant-east-asian: inherit; font-variant-numeric: inherit; font-variation-settings: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"> <i>have to say? - Lisa Olivera 2023</i></span></span></p><p><span face=""Segoe UI", "Segoe UI Web (West European)", "Segoe UI", -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, Roboto, "Helvetica Neue", sans-serif" style="background-color: white; border: 0px; color: #404040; font-feature-settings: inherit; font-kerning: inherit; font-optical-sizing: inherit; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant-alternates: inherit; font-variant-east-asian: inherit; font-variant-numeric: inherit; font-variation-settings: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">From time to time that question pops up - why write. Why bother to share. In this platform. In this space that I hardly ever update. The only consistent thing is the lack of updates. I am laughing. I made a promise to myself a while back that if I were not able to do this with care, then I would rather not do it at all. There is no point if I end up being over-extended in the process. It is not about the quantity; it is always about the quality. Quality doesn't just happen, it takes meticulous attention, absolute care and deliberate consciousness. It is an act of respect - both to the words themselves and their readers, and I would even extend that respect to their author. I am not obsessed with quality any more than any author/artist would be, but I do see my work as an extension of myself. I want to do it with care, so that I can do the work that I know I can do <i>that actually matters to me</i>. A lot of this is subsconscious. But it’s in a way in which even the words we are thinking is shaping the way we are living. Writing is just one way to express that. In writing, I indulge myself in the things that bring me back to live, in the questions that I have been asking that I cannot find answers for. I am not looking for any answers, or anything if at all, just merely observing. And maybe, just maybe, in holding myself with an eagernes to observe, I can give myself the words to string together. To make meaning out of something. Or nothing at all. </span></p><p><br /></p>DrBellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01826173957042335316noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8265892893605881174.post-59076001025116103082023-05-29T12:53:00.000+10:002023-05-29T12:53:00.815+10:00the art of relationships: a note on human connection<p>I feel the need to apologise for not writing here, I have afterall missed a birthday post. I don’t have any reason other than the simple fact that I have been otherwise occupied. With other things, most of which are quite pressing. The leisurely luxury of writing hasn't exactly been an option. In summary, yes, there were the lockdowns and then the strong urge to travel that followed, the burst of pent-up emotions, the unrealistic expectations that followed. A lot has changed, of course. I have changed. Some of these changes I instigated, while others kinda just… happened. I let them happen. That made it sound as if I am this really chilled person who’s capable of letting change flows, but believe me that a lot of it was done some what begrudgingly. </p><p>My life has been changing quite rapidly in directions that I did not foresee in the past few months. These changes are happening so fast that I am barely keeping up. Or at least, they <i>feel </i>fast. That, or I am just, well, old. It happens. I want to opt out of aging, but apparently that option isn’t so readily available just yet. Maybe one day there is a pill for it. Maybe there will be a pill for substituting exercise too. </p><p>The preamble of this piece is that a person that I quite like is moving out of Sydney permanently. I am of course excited for them and their upcoming adventures and also sad that they won’t be in a close physical proximity for much longer. Yes, I admit that I do take the physical proximity for granted. Because now I wish that I had spent that much more time with them. Time is the only currency of life. Time is also the greatest gift we can give (or be given), because it is literally a portion of our lives that we will never get back. </p><p>Moments like this make me appreciate what it feels like to be human. And not just any kind of human moment, it is one that entails a deep bond that’s formed between people who see and value each other. Who make each other <i>feel</i> seen and valued. Who open up to each other and build trust. There are some people in this world who make you feel appreciated by simply being here. There are some people in whom you feel welcome, like you’ve known each other for a long, long time. These people don’t just feel like home, they <i>are</i> home. </p><p>There are very few things that you cannot discuss with these people. In addition to providing a safe space to be, they bring out the sides in you that you’d rather stay hidden. They remind you that there is light, especially in the darkest corners of your soul. They help us access our own minds, they help us bridge the gaps with their presence, their words, their being. They make us feel safe, not only when they are around, but more like when they are not around. They instil in us an ability to be safe in our own skin. </p><p>I am privileged to experience a human connection of this kind, and I am deeply, deeply grateful for this bond. I will discover whether how this bond will transcend physical proximity and unplanned interactions, and I look forward to experiencing a deeper connection in a way that I am yet to experience. </p><p><i>“You cannot force a person to see you as someone they want to open up to; you cannot force a person to see you as someone they want to connect with; you cannot force a person to see you as someone they are bound to. None of this can be enforced, none of this is reached through struggling; for the reality of these is in nature and freeflow is the way of nature. The natural opening up, the natural connection and the natural bond: cannot be attained through enforcement; but as the ocean is, it can also not be hindered or stopped. We cannot make people bond with us in ways that we wish them to; but when it does happen, it really happens, and cannot be undone.”</i> ― C. JoyBell C.</p>DrBellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01826173957042335316noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8265892893605881174.post-19282780024717803212021-12-09T07:27:00.000+11:002021-12-09T07:27:21.969+11:00the art of aging gracefully (maybe)<p>It is time for the annual reflection piece. In contrast to last year’s very rushed version, I endeavour to write something more... substantial this year. Or at least try to. The inspiration is personal growth. I started drafting this on the birthday of one of my favourite persons in this planet. I have a deep admiration for this person and I am humbled to have my path colliding with hers for the past few years. She is one of those rare humans who gets better with age. And I don’t say this because she remains youthful despite dying her hair purple the other week; it is a vibe. She’s got good vibes. </p><p>I have been an adult for a bit now and I must say I am still figuring out what this whole adulting is really about. Some days I do good, other days, well, questionable at best. Adulting is like this … skill, and it’s a very important skill, yet we were never <i>taught</i> this. It’s like school kinda forgets to. There was the rush to grow up. There was the rush to alleged freedom of being able to live independently and have ice cream for breakfast. But with these, comes a responsibility to adult; <i>they </i>forgot to tell us. </p><p>The irony of life is that we spend our childhoods wishing we would grow up sooner, faster, only to realise that uh oh, looks like we’ve been conned. It is not as easy as it looks. I feel like this realisation hits harder for those who breezed through school. There are fourteen years of schooling that each of us have been subjected to before we hit eighteen. And these years are great for external validation. Conspiracy theories aside, the end-product of schooling is compliant citizens. We grew up doing what our schools deemed acceptable. There was hardly any room for individualities - their acknowledgement, let alone celebration. With this mindset, as adults, we continue to seek external validation. We finished school, so we get a job. We focus on career progression because it’s the responsible thing to do. We move out at a certain age, start saving for the down payment of a property and travel – because who doesn’t. </p><p>If that works out for you, that’s great. As that means, you excel at the things that people project onto you. If they say you gotta go in this direction, then you’ll go. Replace ‘they’ with ‘your parents’ and you get the idea. Most of us soon realise that there is this … tension between doing what feels most suitable for us and what is acceptable by… society. This is perhaps an inaccurate description at best, the tension is more like a tug of war for some of us. The need to stand our ground is often more significant than our need to be accepted for what we are. Which probably explains why I have a special kind of respect for those who manage to stand their ground and subsequently get acceptance for who and what they are. Not an easy feat. A remarkable achievement. Bonus point if they remain soft in the process. </p><p>So how to excel at adulting? </p><p>We must work on ourselves. The goal is to have confidence, defined as feeling safe in connecting with yourself and with others at a given point in time. To achieve this, we first must know ourselves. It sounds simple, and the sooner we master this, the better our lives would be. To know ourselves, we need to look deep down into our cores, and that is not easy. There’s no way around it. There’s no shortcut. There’s no instant gratification that doesn’t bring painful long-term consequences. It is all hard work. It is in fact one of the hardest things that we will get to experience in this life, if we get to experience it at all. If there’s one thing in this life that we gotta work our asses off on, this would be it. </p><p>This is only palatable when we are driven by passion; we must work from a place of love. If you are not passionate about what you are and who you are, then it is incredibly difficult for you to remain curious about what makes you, you. If you don’t feel passion for yourself, then the task of getting to know yourself would seem arduous, pointless, meaningless. This is unhealthy. There, I said it. If you don’t love yourself, it would be difficult for you to love others and accept love from others. And without love, life is an unnecessarily flat proposition. </p><p>The most important relationship in this life is the one you have with yourself. This connection you have with yourself is the necessary foundation to everything else. When you’re well connected to yourself, you know who you are. When you know who you are, you are able to remain sturdy and steady as you adventure across the world. You are grounded while at the same time are open to the world. When you feel anchored, you go through life with the knowledge and blessings of the Universe. When this happens, growth happens on a personal level: we are able to be strong while remaining humble, confident and open to receiving inputs and feedback. This mentality makes for a more fulfilling life. It deepens our connections with ourselves, and it deepens our connections with the people around us. </p><p>But useful for us to note that there will always be people wanting to project things onto us, we, afterall, are all traumatised. This is another topic for another time, but for now, point is this: it is difficult to tell whether they really do have a point or if the thing they are projecting onto us is really all about them. It’s important to have deep, strong roots to take it all in without getting swayed or blown away. Not all information is good to hear; we need to develop a skill to ascertain the source of the information and the motives behind the source. We must know ourselves to know how to filter what we want to take in and what we will not consider. And this is hard. If you’re feeling like you’re losing yourself, then ground yourself. Go deep within. Set aside some time to isolate and reconnect to your instincts. Your door is always open to a million random opinions. </p><p>The version that I am drawn to is the one that is balanced: she has confidence in herself and remains humble, open and discerning. Some days, these come relatively easily, she feels strong, focused, knows what she’s doing, where she’s going while remaining open to truths that she doesn’t necessarily see. She is able to hear well-meaning advice and regards that as a part of the input of her decision-making process. And of course, she can respond assertively and tactfully. On the days that these things are harder, she still gives it her best. She forgives herself for the mistakes she made and then goes on to make new ones. Oh, she eats extra fried chicken on those days. </p><p>I think that’s a good adult. </p><p>Post note: this piece is intended to be reflective, never prescriptive. The keen-eyed amongst you would detect the rough edges from the rushed editing and I am sorry. Writing appears easy, but it is in fact, quite challenging. And I am also rather time-poor right now. I am learning to embrace imperfections and this is just part of the deal. Somewhat unrelated, but important: my dad woke at 2am Jakarta time to wish me happy birthday. Kidding. The rain woke him and he quickly sent a message before drifting back to sleep. It is the littlest things that unexpectedly give us the warmest affections. Love you dad. </p><p><br /></p>DrBellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01826173957042335316noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8265892893605881174.post-65912626551933058062020-12-08T21:51:00.000+11:002020-12-08T21:51:00.295+11:00an ode to the year that was<p> I usually write this annual reflection weeks before it’s my birthday. This year, it’s the night before, I just got home from Christmas dinner with the team, tipsy from the espresso martini, bloated from the tiramisu, missing my mom. Life has been very different this year, as anyone can attest. I remember drafting something earlier this year to commemorate life amid this <i>global pandemic</i>, but now sitting here, I doubt that I would ever finish it. </p><p>Because certain things are a little bit too painful to write about right now. And if I have learned anything this year, that would be to flow. Resisting, or forcing, would result in greater suffering. Something painful like this should not be amplified unnecessarily. It can be managed through the active management of thoughts. </p><p>This year, I realise the extent to which I have been taking so many things in my life for granted. I had always thought that I had been appreciating all the privileges that I had been afforded to in this life and this year, I get to obtain a new level of gratitude. I am incredibly thankful that my parents are fine. I am incredibly thankful that the rest of my family are fine. I am incredibly thankful that despite the challenges that I am overcoming in my life, I am mostly fine. </p><p>This year, I reach a new level of appreciation of the wonderful people in my life. The people whom I call my friends who are capable of a deep connection with a willingness to work hard for it. The people whose kindness are elevating. The people who are inspiring by simply being. The people around whom I can simply be. </p><p>It is quite ironic that the things that I thought I had been searching for have always been here all along. These things that I thought were a little bit too farfetched are actually quite … real and realistic. Like these things are actually possible. Perhaps I am not as jaded as I thought I was. Perhaps, I have softened. Perhaps, I was blind, but now I can see. </p><p>It is almost indulgent to even be sitting here and writing this right now. Because all that I can think about, or rather, what I have trained myself to think about, is this: boy, I got lucky. I got lucky in every sense of the word. I got so lucky that I can’t even begin to describe how, what, why and man, I got lucky. </p><p>But I got lucky. And for some reason I am yet to comprehend, everything works in my favour. I am humbled and incredibly grateful. </p><div><br /></div>DrBellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01826173957042335316noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8265892893605881174.post-88004127646847300612019-11-12T16:37:00.002+11:002019-11-13T05:52:26.688+11:00the art of being old: a note on a blessed lifeI am highly predictable in the sense that every year, without fail, I like to produce a mini essay on what’s it's like growing older. Usually this happens around about my birthday. There has been some years these notes just didn’t happen, not because the reflections were too private, but because they were too scattered to be articulated in a meaningful manner. This year, I have been blessed with lots of space for organising the said self-reflection, so here goes.<br />
<br />
I have always known that I am blessed, but for the first time ever in my life I realise the true extent of this blessing. I have been blessed with the things that I didn’t even know I needed. Like, for example, that I can have a life in addition to this thing called work. Don’t get me wrong, work is something which I have always loved. I have managed to stay in the same job for a while now, and over the years, I have been loving different aspects of it. And that’s completely fine, because I think that’s just a function of how the job grows and how the person doing the job (aka me) grows. When we have the time and space to grow together, well, what more can you ask from life.<br />
<br />
As it turns out, there are a lot. And for some reasons I am yet to comprehend, I never asked for those things. At least not consciously anyway. And because I end up having all these things without asking or them, I feel so incredibly blessed. I have toyed with the idea of a balanced life without exactly knowing what it comprises. I have been asked over the years by one too many people about having a balanced life, without exactly knowing what it really is. I guess, you know, the usual, something to do, something to look forward to and someone to love would suffice. Or at least, make a good start.<br />
<br />
The younger, and what I often referred to as the more ambitious version of myself, did not foresee my current life 5, 10 years ago. From this perspective, it is definitely a case of total, complete and utter failure. Because if I were to think back to 5 years ago, and I remembered the things that I said I wanted to have done… ho hum. Well. Okay. About that.<br />
<br />
Actually, this was a total lie. Some five years ago was the year 2015 and man, that was a difficult year. So difficult that I had to admit defeat and seek the help of professional therapists to sort myself out. As much as I was (and still am) a big proponent of self-love, I did not love myself very much back then.<br />
<br />
As part of these therapy sessions, I was reminded to, quite bluntly, stop planning. I remember looking at my therapist and thinking: well, that was a joke right. What’s the point a life that’s not planned? I am a bit embarrassed to admit this, but I ended up asking that question out loud. And in a typical therapist response, I got that very same question thrown back at me. Dude. If I had known what the answer is, do you think I would ask the question.<br />
<br />
They say that an examined life is almost as good as the difficult questions that we ask ourselves. I think there’s something missing in that sentence. Something like “… almost as good as finding the answers to the difficult questions we ask ourselves”. Because asking the questions – no matter how difficult they are – is the easy bit. All we need is the willingness to engage with ourselves (or with our higher selves, or deeper selves, however you put it). The questions I asked myself started with this: why was planning so important to me. Was it the actual plan itself, or was it the process of planning, or was it something much deeper than these? Like maybe, it was about, you know, control. Not just any kind of control, but the kind that denotes some form of control towards one’s destiny. The big, powerful shit that no one really knows about, often disguised as the power of the mind, or imagination. (This is not to negate the power of visualisation and imagination and basically the power of the mind itself. Look, it’s a complex issue and deserves its own exploration and discussion.)<br />
<br />
The anti-climax of this whole story is that I still don’t know for sure what it is about planning that was so important to me, but I have stopped planning so much. Or I should really say, I stop planning altogether. This took a lot of people by surprise because I literally stop planning things with them. What can I say, these days, I take things as they come. And that this lack of planning drive a lot of people nuts, I totally get that. Look, it is not that I am incapable of planning anything, it is more like I choose not to plan anything. If you say that one too many times, you’ll start believing that it’s an active choice. Anything that you do voluntarily and willingly often tastes better than the things that you do begrudgingly. I mean, attitude peeps. Attitude.<br />
<br />
So, the real question then becomes: how has this not-planning thing been working for me? Has it had the effect that I intended it to have? Yes, the irony does not escape me that in engaging in not-planning, I actually plan for something else to happen in my life. Did that thing happen? Yes. That thing is what I call … peace. I didn’t realise how much pressure I put on myself to make things happen. It was like there was this insatiable desire to achieve, to do better, to be better. I stop projecting myself into the future and instead focus on staying in the present moment. And this brings a whole lot of peace and contentment of simply enjoying life as it is right now. The more I engage in this exercise, the more I realise that my Dad is right: everything in this life is temporary.<br />
<br />
I used to look for permanence. I wanted to have that one thing that I would have for life – the dream job, the strong balance sheet, the right friends, the one great love, the one person I would love forever. Yet in the past year, I am slowly coming to the realisation that permanence is best achieved through a series of temporary moments strung together to make a coherent whole, accompanied by a humble mindset and holistic perspective of what’s to come. This makes a balanced life to be one that makes you a better human being overall, no matter what that life actually looks like. And to make it ‘balanced’, you gotta be willing to allow it to change with time.<br />
<br />
If you give up on balance altogether, that’s completely acceptable. When life is good, life is good. Remember to focus on the important things, like how lucky we are to be the participants of this thing called life. We may have to fight for a lot of stuff, nothing is ever just handed to us. It is this chance to fight that makes life worth living. That we get to have a shot. We get to be vulnerable. We get to be uncomfortable. So that we get to grow.<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
DrBellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01826173957042335316noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8265892893605881174.post-50599043053311854882016-12-22T12:39:00.000+11:002019-11-12T16:49:02.314+11:00On being judgmental: a note on understanding oneselfI started drafting this a while back. It started out being a list of observations that I made recently from the stories that I’ve been told, and this list has been growing. None of these concerns me other than the mere fact that the people who are closest and dearest to me are affected by these, in one way or another.<br />
<br />
This list, summarised, would read: why people are so mean.<br />
<br />
Like seriously.<br />
<br />
This is the kind of mean-ness that spans beyond the type that's done borderlining sarcasms and jovial teasing, you know the kind that makes you wonder like, did you really just say that. but you don't really want to say it out loud because you wonder if it is you who's being overly sensitive. occasionally, you get to the point of saying 'why are you so mean' and call it a day because holy fuck, you just cannot stand to stay quiet any longer. not because the said person hurts you, but because the said person is coming across as one mean, nasty individual.<br />
<br />
And then something that's truly nasty happens, or rather, you heard of a story of something real nasty, and you're reminded of what the true meaning of the word is. Some people are mean and nasty beyond words. I am talking about the people who derive feeling good out of making other feel shit. You know, the kind that engages in levelling - either they set themselves as persons of equal stature to a person in authority, and/or they try to equate their own character and values with someone else's who is more mature and/or superior in character.<br />
<br />
I get that this life is hard and everyone is struggling one way or another. I get that everyone is trying their best. But does that really grant them the excuse to make other people feel like shit when they feel like shit? Does it really grant them the licence to manipulate others to get what they want? I mean really, that's an excuse at best, a childish emotional response in truth. Maybe I shouldn't have said that last bit because I am not a trained psychologist. (That said, I do have an issue with those who regularly diagnose people from a distance, and yes, that includes you people who are reading this blog and then making assertions about knowing me and psychological well being. thank you for your concern; I guess you are so concerned about me that you forget to be polite.)<br />
<br />
So, why are people so mean?<br />
<br />
There is no easy answer to this question. And I am not going to attempt to answer this. Because I think this answer carries different meanings to the person who tries to answer. Something along the lines of what's true from one's perspective does not make it the ultimate truth. We can only deduce base on our own experiences. I am guilty of a lot of inherent biases. I realise this. Often times, I know that I am being biased as it happens. I also don't think I will ever be bias free. And sometimes, I think I am way to opinionated for my own good. But that's another story altogether.<br />
<br />
It is common to regard the judgments we make are actually a reflection of our own struggles. They are our battles that are hiding the lessons that we are yet to learn. And these hidden lessons are frightening because they are yet to be known, they are the lies that you told yourself, if you were to be completely honest with yourself. I am a major proponent for honesty, but being honest with myself is a completely different ball game altogether. Because it's fucking hard. I lost so many times. I started with the best of intentions and it almost always peaked into one of the harshest outbursts that are blown out of proportion. These moments used to make me feel human. These days, they make me feel small. Really small.<br />
<br />
If there's anything I learn in the past two years, then that would be to speak my truth with more grace and kindness. And to keep it as simple as I possibly can. I learn that to successfully focus on the important things requires me to firstly work out what those important things are. And I realise that most of the things that I thought were important turn out to be not as important as they used to be. Either I imagined their importance in my life, or I perceived them to be more important than they actually are for all the wrong reasons. I learn to be more intimate with my thoughts, particularly my judgments, because I think these judgments are really directed towards aspects of myself that I have been unhappy about for the longest time (and deny this fact all throughout).<br />
<br />
Like for example. I have loved and lost like a million times in this life (exaggeration). I still quite vividly remember what it felt like to have my heart shattered into pieces. Not because it's not resilient but because there were certain people who had the ability to do so at that point in time. In every relationship, we tried to do the best we can. We tried to love the best we can. We tried to be the best partner we can be, we try to do the right thing all the time. And truth is that we don't do the right things all the time. We are not the best partners all the time. We get tired. We get irritable. We get impatient. We get insecure. We get jealous. We get angry. We have all the best intentions in the world and we don't always get to execute them the way we'd like to. We are not perfect. We are still human after all.<br />
<br />
A dear friend and I got to swap notes on relationships recently. It was a blunt discussion of what we thought about anything and everything and we were absolutely judgmental in that conversation. We discovered that we were more willing to be kind when it came to the struggles of our closest friends, but we might not exercise the same degree of kindness when someone else not close to us experienced similar issues. We were quick to judge. And we were quick to deny that we were quick to judge. We like to think that we exercise the same degree of kindness to everyone we encounter, yet truth is that most of the time, despite the best of intentions, things just haven't turned out the exact way we wanted. It took sometime for us to come to the realisation that all of our judgments are actually directed at ourselves, and that we are better off using these as our mirrors to understand what's truly bothering us on a subconscious level.<br />
<br />
Another dear friend, who is stunningly gorgeous btw, discussed, amongst many things, why people are so quick to give 'advice' as to what we should do when faced with uncomfortable circumstances. I am all in for asking for advice and giving advice where appropriate. The key words are "where appropriate" because that's exactly the point: what is appropriate given the circumstances, given the particular point in time? And to add to the confusion, despite the similarities in circumstances, what I deem appropriate for me might not be appropriate for someone else. It is, after all, a point of view at best. A single fucking opinion. Yet why do we often regard this as the ultimate truth?<br />
<br />
When it comes to other people's advice, we have no choice but to be discerning. Being responsible in decision-making means considering all viable options and considering the different point of views, in particular those that are entirely different from yours. This is crucially important if your decision is going to have implications for people who have no final say on the matter. The onus is on us, the ultimate decision maker, to ask this one vital question: what are the net, net consequences of my decision?<br />
<br />
I take the ultimate responsibility for making the decision and implementing the said decision in my life. This is because i am the one who gets to live my life. I cannot (and will not) blindly follow everyone's advice, even when they are done in good faith. If I am not emotional comfortable with something, I bet this emotional vibration will somehow manifest within my behaviour and through my lens of judgment. So really, I am better off doing giving it its rightful space the first time. No pressure ;)<br />
<br />
Most of the time though, people mean well. They are only concerned about you, and they often want the best for you. They want you to be the best version of yourself. They won't put you into awkward positions, or subject you to emotional manipulation because they are genuinely concerned about your well-being. Most of the time, people will empathise with you sans judgments. They will sit with you and offer a listening heart and as much time as they can possible afford to give. Because these people believe in preserving humanity.<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=8265892893605881174" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiR-hnf_EO8o0Q6IW3eSofbAxFvBs9tkhpc5t5twnirf3rAd4Lxm_cVbxBSSO7cnCC_cQR3CoT6O6IgqWMOLJsjy_9EVhiitoDty2hg90sPG8EKVamky7dqVtBncrNgvxNn8vQmhrsDDOc/s1600/being+judgmental.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><img border="0" height="530" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiR-hnf_EO8o0Q6IW3eSofbAxFvBs9tkhpc5t5twnirf3rAd4Lxm_cVbxBSSO7cnCC_cQR3CoT6O6IgqWMOLJsjy_9EVhiitoDty2hg90sPG8EKVamky7dqVtBncrNgvxNn8vQmhrsDDOc/s640/being+judgmental.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></div>
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span lang="EN-US" style="color: black;"><!--[if gte vml 1]><v:shapetype
id="_x0000_t75" coordsize="21600,21600" o:spt="75" o:preferrelative="t"
path="m@4@5l@4@11@9@11@9@5xe" filled="f" stroked="f">
<v:stroke joinstyle="miter"/>
<v:formulas>
<v:f eqn="if lineDrawn pixelLineWidth 0"/>
<v:f eqn="sum @0 1 0"/>
<v:f eqn="sum 0 0 @1"/>
<v:f eqn="prod @2 1 2"/>
<v:f eqn="prod @3 21600 pixelWidth"/>
<v:f eqn="prod @3 21600 pixelHeight"/>
<v:f eqn="sum @0 0 1"/>
<v:f eqn="prod @6 1 2"/>
<v:f eqn="prod @7 21600 pixelWidth"/>
<v:f eqn="sum @8 21600 0"/>
<v:f eqn="prod @7 21600 pixelHeight"/>
<v:f eqn="sum @10 21600 0"/>
</v:formulas>
<v:path o:extrusionok="f" gradientshapeok="t" o:connecttype="rect"/>
<o:lock v:ext="edit" aspectratio="t"/>
</v:shapetype><v:shape id="Picture_x0020_1" o:spid="_x0000_i1025" type="#_x0000_t75"
alt="Description: mage result for your judgment is a mirror" style='width:500pt;
height:415pt;visibility:visible;mso-wrap-style:square'>
<v:imagedata src="file://localhost/Users/belleair/Library/Caches/TemporaryItems/msoclip/0clip_image001.jpg"
o:title="mage result for your judgment is a mirror"/>
</v:shape><![endif]--><!--[if !vml]--><!--[endif]--></span><span style="color: black;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div>
<!--[if !mso]>
<style>
v\:* {behavior:url(#default#VML);}
o\:* {behavior:url(#default#VML);}
w\:* {behavior:url(#default#VML);}
.shape {behavior:url(#default#VML);}
</style>
<![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
<o:OfficeDocumentSettings>
<o:AllowPNG/>
</o:OfficeDocumentSettings>
</xml><![endif]-->
<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
<w:WordDocument>
<w:View>Normal</w:View>
<w:Zoom>0</w:Zoom>
<w:TrackMoves>false</w:TrackMoves>
<w:TrackFormatting/>
<w:PunctuationKerning/>
<w:ValidateAgainstSchemas/>
<w:SaveIfXMLInvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid>
<w:IgnoreMixedContent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent>
<w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText>
<w:DoNotPromoteQF/>
<w:LidThemeOther>EN-US</w:LidThemeOther>
<w:LidThemeAsian>JA</w:LidThemeAsian>
<w:LidThemeComplexScript>X-NONE</w:LidThemeComplexScript>
<w:Compatibility>
<w:BreakWrappedTables/>
<w:SnapToGridInCell/>
<w:WrapTextWithPunct/>
<w:UseAsianBreakRules/>
<w:DontGrowAutofit/>
<w:SplitPgBreakAndParaMark/>
<w:EnableOpenTypeKerning/>
<w:DontFlipMirrorIndents/>
<w:OverrideTableStyleHps/>
<w:UseFELayout/>
</w:Compatibility>
<m:mathPr>
<m:mathFont m:val="Cambria Math"/>
<m:brkBin m:val="before"/>
<m:brkBinSub m:val="--"/>
<m:smallFrac m:val="off"/>
<m:dispDef/>
<m:lMargin m:val="0"/>
<m:rMargin m:val="0"/>
<m:defJc m:val="centerGroup"/>
<m:wrapIndent m:val="1440"/>
<m:intLim m:val="subSup"/>
<m:naryLim m:val="undOvr"/>
</m:mathPr></w:WordDocument>
</xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
<w:LatentStyles DefLockedState="false" DefUnhideWhenUsed="true"
DefSemiHidden="true" DefQFormat="false" DefPriority="99"
LatentStyleCount="276">
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="0" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Normal"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="heading 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 7"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 8"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 9"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 7"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 8"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 9"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="35" QFormat="true" Name="caption"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="10" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Title"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="1" Name="Default Paragraph Font"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="11" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Subtitle"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="22" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Strong"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="20" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Emphasis"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="59" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Table Grid"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Placeholder Text"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="1" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="No Spacing"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Revision"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="34" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="List Paragraph"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="29" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Quote"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="30" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Intense Quote"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="19" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Subtle Emphasis"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="21" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Intense Emphasis"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="31" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Subtle Reference"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="32" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Intense Reference"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="33" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Book Title"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="37" Name="Bibliography"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" QFormat="true" Name="TOC Heading"/>
</w:LatentStyles>
</xml><![endif]-->
<style>
<!--
/* Font Definitions */
@font-face
{font-family:Times;
panose-1:2 0 5 0 0 0 0 0 0 0;
mso-font-charset:0;
mso-generic-font-family:auto;
mso-font-pitch:variable;
mso-font-signature:3 0 0 0 1 0;}
@font-face
{font-family:"MS 明朝";
panose-1:0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0;
mso-font-charset:128;
mso-generic-font-family:roman;
mso-font-format:other;
mso-font-pitch:fixed;
mso-font-signature:1 134676480 16 0 131072 0;}
@font-face
{font-family:"MS 明朝";
panose-1:0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0;
mso-font-charset:128;
mso-generic-font-family:roman;
mso-font-format:other;
mso-font-pitch:fixed;
mso-font-signature:1 134676480 16 0 131072 0;}
@font-face
{font-family:Cambria;
panose-1:2 4 5 3 5 4 6 3 2 4;
mso-font-charset:0;
mso-generic-font-family:auto;
mso-font-pitch:variable;
mso-font-signature:3 0 0 0 1 0;}
/* Style Definitions */
p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal
{mso-style-unhide:no;
mso-style-qformat:yes;
mso-style-parent:"";
margin:0cm;
margin-bottom:.0001pt;
mso-pagination:widow-orphan;
font-size:12.0pt;
font-family:Cambria;
mso-ascii-font-family:Cambria;
mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-fareast-font-family:"MS 明朝";
mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-fareast;
mso-hansi-font-family:Cambria;
mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";
mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;
mso-ansi-language:EN-US;}
.MsoChpDefault
{mso-style-type:export-only;
mso-default-props:yes;
font-family:Cambria;
mso-ascii-font-family:Cambria;
mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-fareast-font-family:"MS 明朝";
mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-fareast;
mso-hansi-font-family:Cambria;
mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";
mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;
mso-ansi-language:EN-US;}
@page WordSection1
{size:595.0pt 842.0pt;
margin:72.0pt 90.0pt 72.0pt 90.0pt;
mso-header-margin:35.4pt;
mso-footer-margin:35.4pt;
mso-paper-source:0;}
div.WordSection1
{page:WordSection1;}
-->
</style>
<!--[if gte mso 10]>
<style>
/* Style Definitions */
table.MsoNormalTable
{mso-style-name:"Table Normal";
mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0;
mso-tstyle-colband-size:0;
mso-style-noshow:yes;
mso-style-priority:99;
mso-style-parent:"";
mso-padding-alt:0cm 5.4pt 0cm 5.4pt;
mso-para-margin:0cm;
mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt;
mso-pagination:widow-orphan;
font-size:12.0pt;
font-family:Cambria;
mso-ascii-font-family:Cambria;
mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-hansi-font-family:Cambria;
mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-ansi-language:EN-US;}
</style>
<![endif]-->
<!--StartFragment-->
<!--EndFragment--><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
DrBellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01826173957042335316noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8265892893605881174.post-18624688788622677782016-12-07T16:55:00.000+11:002016-12-07T16:55:16.598+11:00the art of being old: a note on a beautiful lifein a few days, i am going to be officially in my mid-thirties. and yep, i am officially mortified. they say that age is just a number, and that how old you are really is about how you feel inside. problem is that i feel old <i>inside</i>. and yes, i put it out to the universe every single day that i am glad to be alive. but age, as my friend put it, is the one inescapable thing that time gives to you for free.<br />
<br />
we are all getting older every single minute, every single second of every single day.<br />
<br />
(thank you Gary for that very insightful observation.)<br />
<br />
i don't want to sound all depressed (or rather, depressing) because (a) i am not depressed and (b) this is not a depressing topic - there are a lot of good things about getting older (and this is a fact), and (c) yeah, okay, it is all a matter of perspective. and (d), no, this is not another bout of quarter life crisis (been there, done that), and this is way, waaaayyy too early to qualify as the onset of a midlife crisis. (but if i can like buy that audi-tt in black matte, then yeah, i will totally go for it. i am a total sucker for shit like that. and then my other friend was like, that's the car of a drug dealers, and i was like (silently), yeah ok, that's like the shit, bro.)<br />
<br />
there is something about being in your mid-thirties though. you can no longer use the i am still young excuse because you really are not that young, and you have to invent new excuses for doing the silliest, most impulsive things in your life out of fomo. it's like once upon a time, you legitimately use the excuse of 'lack of liquidity' because you know, there really was no liquid. these days, your use of the same excuse denote something more purposeful: the liquid has been used up for other things, you konw, the things that actually matter to you. so, in short, you are expected to get your shit together. you are expected to know what you want <i>to be</i>, or at the very minimal, to know what you don't want to be. you are expected to know who you are and who you want to be and somehow be actively pursuing that goal whenever you can.<br />
<br />
and this expectation doesn't come from society anymore, it comes from you. it comes from deep within. it comes from this one little voice deep inside your veins who is persistently ever so patient when you deliberately ignore it day in day out. and then it pops up at the most unexpected moment as if to say, see, i told you so. and you're like, okay, alright, you're right. i stand corrected. i promise to listen to you a little bit more. just a tiny little bit more because i want to appear like i am learning, but i am still keen on experimenting. after all, isn't life about making mistakes while creating beautiful memories? if you were to plan everything down to the smallest details and make no room for serendipity, would that not make life sterile? i mean, can one even <i>plan</i> to have fun, or does fun just, you know, happen?<br />
<br />
or is it just me, over-analysing everything <i>again, </i>as usual.<br />
<br />
perhaps so. i don't know. i guess this side of me probably won't change that much, if at all. yes, i have been told that it's not a good habit to sustain for fear that my brain might actually overheat - literally. but i like thinking and i find it rather enjoyable even when most of the time i come up with way more questions than i do answers. and what's the fun in life if you don't take the time to examine it? to get up close and personal with yourself. to be intimate with yourself in the truest sense of the word that goes beyond doing a solo horizontal dance between the sheets.<br />
<br />
truth is that i haven't thought much about being older other than lamenting to my closest and dearest that i think i am still too young to be in my mid thirties. or that really in my mind, i am like, you know, still twenty-eight. why i pick that age i have absolutely no idea, because it's not like that was the age of breakthrough or anything along those lines. i mean, i am a small moments person, so i like celebrating the little moments of everyday that makes up the big picture. so if you were to look back, you can see the little things weaved together to make this beautiful picture, but it was never as if anyone set out to draw it a particular way. in fact, part of the art is actually going with the flow, to move with the motion without really knowing what the end result is going to be, nor having any idea of what it was supposed to be, other than one thing: it's gonna be awesome. because i am going to make it so. watch me.<br />
<br />
i want to say that i mindfully sorted my life and conscientiously change the things that i don't like about it. or that i have a running theme that spans over different areas that i need to tackle and that each action is targeted towards achieving a particular goal over a particular time period. like i organise it all into compartments, into folders, label them and draft indexes for them. these are like, you know, the aspiration. the reality is that i am mentally and physically too exhausted these days for anything other than life itself, such that all of my efforts have been concentrated on living itself; examining it becomes a luxury, an icing in the cake, the cake that you know you want to eat, but you try to abstain from because you are supposed to be on a high protein diet, and you literally cannot afford to put anything in your mouth that doesn't have some sort of protein packed in it.<br />
<br />
i mean, really, struggling on the health front is surely something that is experienced by the living, right? as in, if you are not living (i.e. you are not alive) then you have no struggle left on this department. and you know when people say that you have to find the positives underneath all the negatives? i say to them, do some maths. two negatives multiplied together make a positive. go and try figuring that one out. and once you do, throw in some imaginative numbers into the mix, and spin everything into trigs and logs and see what you make out of the equation.<br />
<br />
the most important person in my life recently told me that his favourite method of falling asleep is to devise some mathematical equation in his head until he exhausted his ability to do the mental calculations and falling asleep becomes easier by comparison. and just like any other conversation we had, he concluded with 'try it when you can't sleep' and i hate to admit that he is right because i tried that the other night and fell asleep so promptly because deep down i dislike maths very very much and i can't do calculations in my head to save my life. this is why i like spreadsheets.<br />
<br />
when there is something that is there to make your life easier, the only logical thing to do is to adopt it and embrace it and make it a part of your life. i admit that it takes me quite a long time to stop apologising for simply being ... myself. yes, this sounds really self-absorbed and everything along those lines, and yet it is also very true. one of the most liberating thing in this world is to hear someone thanking you for simply being you. when you are not pretending to be something that you are not (let alone someone else) - when the things that come out of your mouth are the things that you actually mean, both literally and figuratively. when you actually follow them up with actions. yes, people will always talk, criticise and comment - and no matter. because the person who says that she is going to do something and actually backs it up with action is the person making progress, moulding herself into something better, weaving the stories, learning by doing and gaining experience while deepening the quality of her life. because it is only you can accept that hard work is crucially necessary, planning is equally as important, as is settling goals and having visions and purpose, but it does not mean that life will go according to plan, <i>and that is actually ok.</i> because there are so many beautiful possibilities out there that we have not yet thought about nor imagined. and these things exist, waiting for us to open our minds and our hearts to bigger and better things than what we dare to dream about.<br />
<br />
all the while all these are happening, you come to understand more about the world that we live in, and you come to realise that everyone is just doing the best that they can. and because of this, you learn to pick your battles, because you sincerely believe that not every battle is worth winning. this forms the basis of your value system that becomes a driving force in your life, and an understanding that the issues revolving around this value system gives you the courage to speak up and stand up for what you hold dear to your hearts. you probably would not use the word brave to describe yourself, but other people will. this becomes a great reward that you never anticipated but have learned to accept that such rewards involve great risks, the kind of projects that do not come with a safety hatch, but are promising in terms of personal growth, progress, and more importantly, development of character: it is imperative that you step forward when the path hasn't been laid out before you, let alone previously walked. there is no expectation that life will be fair, storms are meant to be weathered and courage to move forward comes from deep within. throughout this journey, you develop a deep understanding that not everything is meant to last forever, and that is okay, because letting go is about having the strength to move forward with grace and integrity.<br />
<br />
and when you look back, you have a deeper respect for the power of self-discipline and control and the importance of avoiding your emotions dictating your actions. you actively take the time to strengthen your understanding of yourself in attempt to navigate your emotions and your mind and how to optimise the two to make your life better, easier, more fulfilling. then you realise that you have the power to live the life you have always dreamed of.<br />
<br />
is there anything more beautiful than that?<br />
<br />
a very happy birthday to me.<br />
<br />
DrBellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01826173957042335316noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8265892893605881174.post-55679594735154170192016-09-26T15:36:00.002+10:002016-09-26T15:36:26.723+10:00Some topics are tough to talk about: a note on starting overI haven't written in this space for over a year. I have missed pouring my thoughts in this corner of the world wide web. A lot has changed in the months that passed. It is really weird for me to write this, but I feel like I am a changed person. I think I am doing ok, but from time to time, I miss the person that I used to be: she, with the nonchalant confidence, cruised through life as if there was no tomorrow, but planned as if she was going to live forever.<br />
<br />
Truth is that we are all going to die at some point in time; it is just a question of when. In my most recent conversation about this topic, I was met with a tired audience: I am tired of talking about death and dying, they said. I don't blame them. Personally, I know that I don't talk about this often enough. We all like to take life for granted. We like to believe that we are going to live for a long, long time. Only when we are faced with the impending possibility of death, be it ours personally, or that of someone we love, then we start talking about it. The tiredness, I imagine, is not from the discussion itself, but rather, the emotional burden. The imminent pain that rears its presence uninvited, crippling the strongest of us, while we are left clueless, unable to deal with this clump in our chest and the tendency to burst into tears for a very good reason that is difficult to articulate.<br />
<br />
Whenever I think about death, I realise that I don't celebrate life often enough. Birthdays aside, life is something that we ought to be grateful for, something to cherish, something to look forward to, something to enjoy. Yet, isn't funny that we tend to wait to enjoy life, as if it is something that we can only enjoy after we've done certain things. Then again, blessed are those who can actually enjoy life after they've been working all of their lives. Blessed are those who are still strong enough to travel, and can afford to do so, and are still enthusiastic enough to explore the wonders of the world. Blessed are those who look forward to discovering new things, and establishing new connections, and perhaps, rekindling old flames. Blessed are those who are able to say that they are finally happy, not because they were previously unhappy, but because they now know that life can be this good.<br />
<br />
Clearly, life is not about immediate gratification. In the past year, I am grateful for the connections that have been revived, the people that I vibed with once upon a time are making a comeback, reminding me that whilst they know the person that I was, they like the person that I am much much better. This has brought a lot of comfort, because love of this kind is rare, but possible. I don't know what I did to deserve the kindness of this tribe, and I am so very very grateful. Believe me when I say that this isn't about the length of time that you know each other, but about the quality of the connection that you had once upon a time.<br />
<br />
Yes, there are certain things that we can do that are independent of time, and this does not negate the value of time itself. Especially when time is what we have, or perhaps more accurately, what we yearn for. Because there is no substitute for time. Because a deep connection built over time is much stronger than one that has not stood the test of time. Because at the end of the day, what we really want is someone to turn to and say, do you remember that time when we did so and so? Not because we are fixated on the past, rather because at that point in time, our connection was strengthened.<br />
<br />
Being this 'new' person is like building a new identity while at the same time maintaining an enthusiastic dance in life. Deep inside you are incredibly confused and lost, and despite all these, you move on anyway, leading your path where you <i>thought</i> you wanted to travel. You notice things that you previously didn't, not so much because they were absent, but because you were, and you didn't know that previously. When you are changing, you actually have to look at yourself; you actually have to get <i>sober</i>. Only then you have the ability to turn some negative experience into a positive one.DrBellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01826173957042335316noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8265892893605881174.post-67456330662176064392015-07-22T17:06:00.000+10:002015-07-22T17:06:04.089+10:00Supporting gay marriage: a note on acceptanceI posted a link on my Facebook wall to <a href="http://www.smh.com.au/comment/gays-and-rightwingers-an-unhappy-marriage-20150719-giesh0.html#ixzz3gOIPHuPc" target="_blank">an article by Amanda Vanstone on the debate on gay marriage</a>.<br />
<br />
Gay marriage, I am excited about. Perhaps it is because I got married and then realise that hey, it can actually be pretty good, despite the bad rap that it has received over the years, you know, divorce ugliness and all that. This marriage, to me, is like an act of faith that there is still goodness in this one person that I have decided to spend the rest of my life with. That, plus the legal recognition of our relationship. Yes, you may laugh all you want, but this is nothing to sneeze about. Prior to this, I have been largely nonchalant about marriage. I did not grow up to be one of those girls who fantasized about what their weddings are going to be. Then again, I took it for granted that it would be an option that would be available to me should I decide to walk down that path.<br />
<br />
I admit that I have never given gay marriage a lot of thought other than this: it is just a matter of time before gay marriages are recognised in the eyes of the law. Until then, I hope that not too many people embarrass themselves in the process. My stance on the matter is neatly summarised as: we have no right to deny another human being the right to have a union that is recognised by law by the mere virtue of his/her sexual orientation, topped with a generous borrowing of this quote from Vanstone: "Society is built on relationships of mutual dependence. In this era of me, me and more me, the more that people are prepared to commit to one another, to be responsible for each other and dependent on each other, the better. High divorce rates tell us heterosexuals are more and more discarding this. But the gay community want it. Open the gates and cheer, is my response."<br />
<br />
Except that I forget that I don’t keep a streamlined friends list on Facebook. Some of these people are people that I used to know once upon a time, because we used to go to church together.<br />
<br />
That.<br />
<br />
I have not been inside a church for a very long, long time. Yet to these people, to openly declare my support for gay marriage is like spitting on my religion. By their standards, I am a stray-er. I have forgotten God, or some even go as far as labeling me as forsaking God. No matter. I am used to a lot of labels in this life, so these just get added on the list. That said, these are no ordinary label. Plus once upon a time, these happened often enough that I have a strategy. To clarify, the contexts were different, but the labels were the same. The context was, well, my extended absence from the church. For those with an I am holier than thou attitude, for those who were involved in some form of activities, like the church band, or choir, or dancer, or whatever, for those who have taken no time to get to know me and are obviously not interested in my answers, but said the labels anyway for whatever reason, it goes something like this.<br />
<br />
It starts with an invincible eye roll. Come on, you can’t deny me out of this pleasure. Then, a polite answer: Yes, I have been absent from church. And yes, I would like to go often. I’ll try to make the time.. By the time I am done being polite, I am exhausted, my interest of attending church has fizzled out, just in time for a quick exit. Moving on.<br />
<br />
That people need to stop judging those of us who seemingly cannot make time for God, that attendance at church does not always correlate with kindness, and that holiness can be a valid goal, but is not something for human beings to judge, are a small part of the series of sentences that I often hold my tongue for. Just because you don’t see me or hear me praying does not need to be reconciled with my religious-ness, or lack thereof, because deep down, we all know that your views are a reflection of you more than they are a reflection of me.<br />
<br />
For these people, I cannot be both a Christian and a supporter of gay marriage; I have to choose between them. I don’t need a counselling session with a pastor to pull out biblical verses that are frequently cited as condemnation of certain queerness. This is not to say that I have analysed all these verses, nor scrutinised all the explanations and interpretations of some renowned religious scholars. Out of the ones that I have had the pleasure of coming across, some are convincing, some, not so much; some feel like stretching the meaning through manipulation of the words. In one of the churches that I used to attend regularly, I was told that I should not rely on my own understanding, but that of God. This line I struggle with till this day because I find it difficult to believe that the God that has given us a functioning brain actually intended us to forgo their use. As Galileo Galilei put it, "I do not feel obliged to believe that the same God who has endowed us with senses, reason, and intellect has intended us to forgo their use and by some other means to give us knowledge which we can attain by them” .<br />
<br />
But what this has highlighted for me, again and again, is that the Bible is essentially a collection of texts, written by some people, a very long time ago. Yes, it is possible that these people were enlightened, which subsequently, made the resultant text, a source of enlightenment. And it is also useful for us to be mindful of the fact that any piece of writing comes with contexts, and interpretations, and everything else in between. To take a piece of text out of context is to essentially, misquote, misinterpret, mislead.<br />
<br />
So, now what? The Bible is not completely irrelevant and it is also should be utilised accordingly. The main themes inherent in the Bible, to me, are love, faith, mercy. These are the things that speak to me louder than anything else, and in turn, I rely on my faith, on God’s love and on mercy. And to extend these things to the world in general, independent of religion, race, or sexual orientation. To give others the freedom to choose and do what they see fit them best, namely, in this case, to get married, or not, and give recognition of these choices in the eyes of the law.<br />
<br />
I am not actively involved in any church, nor regularly attend one, yet I get the sense that when it comes to churches and Christianity, there exists a certain element of homophobia, and this is more prevalent in social circles that are largely homophobic, which still exist in a country that is so far removed from homophobia. I don’t want to defend my stance on gay marriage, I don’t need to. I don’t want to establish a distinction between how ‘forward thinking’ an individual can be. I do not want to marginalise these social circles. These imperfect communities, just like any other community embroiled with insecurities, struggle with foreign concepts and new ideas, and in all likelihood, are probably scared in losing their identities (or perhaps, just doing whatever they can to preserve their current identities). It is easier to say all the right things to preserve order than to actually believe them, let alone live according to them. It is easier to give up and pretend that the issue doesn’t exist and will never eventuate to reality and if it ever does, then you would revolt: <a href="http://www.sbs.com.au/news/article/2015/06/11/canberra-couple-divorce-over-gay-marriage" target="_blank">get divorce just to make a point</a>.<br />
<br />
That aside, I believe, or at least, would like to believe, that it is also possible to find a happy medium: that of a revolutionary break through; that supporting gay marriage and be a Christian are not mutually exclusive, to let go of what we <i>should</i> be, and just simply be. <br />
<div>
<br /></div>
DrBellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01826173957042335316noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8265892893605881174.post-53855389438213001052015-07-21T16:09:00.001+10:002015-07-21T16:09:09.629+10:00When it ends: a note on relationshipsI have not seen her nor spoke with her for months, years, and from time to time, I do miss her, or more likely, the version of her that I etched in my memory. Once upon a time, there was this one person that I loved so wholeheartedly. I believed that she would, and allowed her to, do whatever she saw fit for us. Yet the questions. What is love? What makes something love? What makes love, love? How do you know what someone loves you? How much devotion is involved? How much of a daily grind should we share? How much involvement should someone who claimed to love me have in my life? How much approval should we seek of each other? What if we disagree? Should we then strive to mend this ‘gap’?<br />
<br />
These questions, I had never asked her openly; at least not with words anyway. But I asked them to myself on a very regular basis, and I began to use them as a framework of analysis of this mysterious thing called love. Because I felt ‘love’ was choking me. Why I had to be perpetually available whenever she called, or why could I just not say that this was not a good time to talk. She was always relentlessly insisting; it was as if I was filing not just a loneliness gap, but more like a crater in her life. She wanted involvement in every little thing. I just wanted space. I mean, really, if this was what love was all about, then I would rather pass, thanks.<br />
<br />
She probably had never come across something similar, so it was somewhat understandable that she was ill-equipped to deal with the issue. While the battle was primarily mine, and struggle was perhaps largely in my mind, they were as real as they come, and ignoring them wouldn’t have made things easier. The sad thing was that instead of using this opportunity to engage with me on a different level, she chose to assert herself in a way that felt belittling me. To be fair, I probably deserved it since I was somewhat self-absorbed; I made it all about me (instead of us), and at the same time, there was also cluelessness in her part that she wasn’t willing to address. It is useful to remember that she is only a human being, who was, more likely than not, also experimenting with the relationship. I painfully came to the conclusion that it was not her fault that she didn’t know how to handle the situation. Equally painfully, I chose to believe that perhaps, she was trying her best. <br />
<br />
At the end of the day, if I could put it into words, then this would be it: I have spent a very long time negotiating a relationship with her. She wasn’t exactly absent, she was simply mostly unavailable. She wanted a relationship with me, there was no doubt, but she wanted this relationship to exist in a particular way, a way that suited only her, with little regard for anyone else. She wanted me to play a certain role in her life, to fulfill a certain gap. It was this role that I was unwilling to play. In all honestly, the gap, I could probably fill, at least a little bit, but I refused to do so because I didn’t believe that it was my responsibility to fill that gap in her life. Furthermore, if having a relationship with her came with such unrealistic expectations, then it was better not to engage at all. I could never bear that burden of responsibility that was imposed on me so absent-mindedly, so selfishly. The irony is of course I ended up being the one who was labelled selfish because I refused to participate in this relationship. That also became the defining point, in my life at least, that every relationship is subject to its own terms and these terms are always open for negotiations. These negotiations are bound to happen throughout the course of the relationship because it is one way of asserting boundaries, and boundaries change with time. Without these, the relationship would be based on someone else’s terms. I think I am a little bit too independent to allow myself to participate in such an arrangement.<br />
<br />
So, to put it bluntly, I got tired of negotiating this relationship. <br />
<br />
She is loveable, and she definitely deserves to be loved, but maybe, not by me. <br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>I still miss her. And I will forever miss her. I will have
to live with that gap in my heart from where she used to be. </i></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
DrBellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01826173957042335316noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8265892893605881174.post-54537731688687166242015-06-27T14:20:00.000+10:002015-06-27T14:20:14.846+10:00Learning finance from Dad: a note on money managementEvery so now and then, Dad and I got to talk about money. When I say talk, what I really mean is this: he talks, I listen. As such, most of these stories are not exactly mine to tell, they are his. This, coupled with the fact that talking about money is regarded as something taboo, result in me becoming uncomfortable writing about them. And no, we don't talk about the power of compounding interest or the like or which asset class represents the best investment given the current economic conditions. We talk about the real deal, money stuff.<br />
<br />
My Dad is a good person, and I don’t just say this because I am his daughter, although it is very possible that my views are biased because of that. He is one of the most generous persons I’ve ever come across in my life, and he certainly has his heart in the right places. If one day I get the privilege to be in his position, I would be doing most of the things that he is doing.<br />
<br />
The older I get, the more I realise that there are similarities between us in how we view the world. Generation gap be damned. We don’t always agree on everything, and I know this not just because I disagree with him (albeit not openly), but he would disagree with me openly, and at times, rather bluntly. I don’t mind this approach at all; in fact, I find it easier to know things upfront, although in the process, it was like ‘da fug?’ Despite having quite a few of these in a lifetime, the latest one was no easier than one prior.<br />
<br />
Suffice to say that his life experience means he has plenty of stories to tell, plenty of views to express. Plus he is a parent, something which I probably will not experience in this lifetime, so I try to understand that he might come from a different angle than me. I have watched enough friends becoming parents, and I have noticed the change that happened in them. Most of them insist that they are not that much different, but deep down, they know they have changed in ways that even they didn’t think was possible.<br />
<br />
Because of my Dad, I won the genetic lottery, through no effort of my own. I didn’t know what I did in my previous life to deserve such good fortune. If I were to pick a dad amongst all the dads in the world, I would pick mine – despite how rocky our relationship can be. I owe much of who I am to him, his love, his generosity, his impartation of knowledge.<br />
<br />
The other day we got into a conversation of the difference between frugal and stingy. Why we ended up discussing this I am not at liberty to disclose, so I am trying to focus on the conversation itself. He said that when someone does not have enough money for himself, he has no choice but to be frugal. In this situation, he cannot be labeled stingy, because he has no money to spare. In contrast, a stingy person is someone who hoards his money, and does not want to share that with anyone, including people who have sacrificed for him in the past (e.g. his parents).<br />
<br />
I pointed out the possibility that it was very possible that this person whose context we were discussing could earn a lot more money than what my Dad thought. After all, apparently, Dad did ask him how much he earned, not because Dad was nosy, but because he was concerned. The answer that he got was a typical Generation Y response: it is a secret. To be fair, if I were the recipient of the question, I would’ve done a similar thing, but worded nicely. What can I say, I like words. I can string them to convey a meaning that I want while simultaneously flatter the person asking the question. And why not? It’s nice to thank the people who care about you.<br />
<br />
Typical of the money-related conversations that we usually have, Dad just brushed away the possibility that I presented. I don’t exactly care, to be honest, because whether this person is stingy or not doesn’t have any bearing on my life. I don’t see him on a regular basis, nor do I talk to him on a regular basis. In fact, I haven’t even seen him for a long, long time, and I don’t know if and when I will get to see him one day.<br />
<br />
The important thing is that Dad and I agreed on the definitions of frugal and stingy, although now that we had this conversation, I can’t stop wondering what he thinks about me when it comes to my money. He doesn’t ask for much, and whatever he asks, I usually give him. I accidentally told a friend about this, and this friend promptly got irrationally pissed off, and I was like, chill dude, he wasn’t asking for an island. I am very careful in sharing stories like that from that point forward - at least with that friend.<br />
<br />
When it comes to how other people spend their money, it is very easy for us to judge. It is even easier for us to judge when it comes to other people asking for other people’s money. When you are a parent, of course you want your children to be financially sufficient; but how exactly do you teach them about money?<br />
<br />
Some eleven odd years ago, he told me that I shouldn’t save all of my money. I must remember to spend it too, in a way that would bring betterment towards my life. I remember this advice quite vividly because it happened first thing in the morning at the breakfast table, and it was the first holiday I spent with him after I started working full time. The irony is that about four years prior, he told me to save some of the money that I earned, don’t just spend it all. We never discuss savings and spending after that, or I should say, <i>my</i> savings and spending.<br />
<br />
I may not be a millionaire just yet, Dad, but I am doing fine.<br />
<br />
***<br />
<br />
me: hey Dad, happy father's day!<br />
Dad: thank you, no mention of father's day here!<br />
me: oh. it must be just the internet then.DrBellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01826173957042335316noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8265892893605881174.post-46112590840918222082015-06-14T17:57:00.000+10:002015-06-14T17:58:53.275+10:00Labels, love and lies: a note on an important life lessonI drafted something this morning, only to hit the delete button. I do that sometimes when I feel that the topic that I write is a little bit too "personal" for my liking, and I have one too many of those topics. It is also ironic that since I don't write about them, they are the ones that yearn to be written, stories that are begging to be told.<br />
<br />
When someone gets to know me, they almost always uniformly come to the conclusion that I am an extrovert within 30 seconds of meeting me. But I did one of those online personality tests recently, and my result was the opposite. So I went, yeah right, and did another test, and got the same result. Or I should say, consistently the same result. I was ready to write off these tests as inaccurate, obviously, but when I looked at my friends who are true extroverts, I realised that those test results were correct. I am clearly not an extrovert, who obviously gives off the impression that I am. Either that or people are severely mistaken.<br />
<br />
Not that I mind being mistakenly labelled as extroverts - there are far worse labels that one can be subjected to in this life. In fact, being labelled an extrovert is actually a nice label to have, if only for the mere fact that I give off the vibe that I enjoy people's companionship and eventually friendship, if I am lucky. This is why I think it is so easy for us to think that we are lovable because so many people love us, at least appear to love us. It is easy to regard this as the truth. It is easy to believe that love is easy, that it is a free commodity that is given ever so sincerely, just because you can give, and there's someone to receive.<br />
<br />
I wish love were this easy: you give and someone else receives. When I was younger, I insisted that love was meant to be this thing that made you feel like you are ... flying; kind of a similar feeling that I experience when I run these days. I naively believed that love is the one thing that would lift the whatever heavy burden that I had on me at that point in time. And conversely, the person who put the heavy burden in the first place, well, that person surely hated me, even when they claimed to love me, publicly. I hate when people do things publicly like that and expect their audience to take it as truth. That's what politicians do and find me a politician who has a clean record of not lying about their publicised messages. It must be hard being a politician, because one must lie on a very regular basis, and at the same time, convince people that they are not lying. I wonder how many of them lie awake at night thinking about how many people's lives they've destroyed with their lies.<br />
<br />
My husband has this theory on love that goes something like this: in life, you have to go through at least one really really <i>really </i>terrible relationship and survive coming out of that relationship so that you can truly appreciate what love really is. I dislike this theory very much, because it infers that a lot of people who have never experience a terrible relationship from appreciating what love really is. I refused to believe that in order to appreciate the good, you have to experience the bad. I insisted on believing that life does not have to be bad, albeit temporarily, so that one can start feeling grateful for one's blessings. I desperately clung to this belief because I wanted it to be true so badly.<br />
<br />
Looking back, it is obvious that almost every single guy I was with would eventually ended up controlling every single thing that I did or didn't do. I thought that asking for their permission to go out was a normal thing to do in a relationship. Yet they claimed that I was the one who 'prohibited' them from doing certain things. But really, all I ever did was giving them a taste of their own behaviours. I hated them for having double standards and I hated myself even more for letting them get away with it. They wasted no chance in putting me down because they derived their sense of superiority by seeing me fail. I found myself constantly apologising for my achievements, apparently a crime that I didn't even know I had committed.<br />
<br />
Needless to say, I struggled with this concept called love. I had difficulties understanding how these people who claimed to love me become the very people that I sought protection <i>from</i>. How could the same people say one thing in public, only to do the opposite in private. How could these people who said that they were rooting for my success be the same people who had been deliberately and discreetly plotting my downfall. One in particular was so apologetic publicly, but was continuously threatening in private; I have never had anyone wished that I were dead to my face, I guess now I can tick that off my bucket list.<br />
<br />
I resisted the temptation to wish him dead; I knew that once I said it, I would mean every single word. The things that I say out loud have a tendency to come true somehow, so I refrain from having shitty thoughts like these blurted out to the universe. Although if I do end up saying it out loud, would that be a good enough retaliation? Hardly so; to wish someone dead because that person wished you were dead screams juvenile and not to mention, so un-creative. What would be more suitable and definitely more deserving, was a disproportionate response. But that takes too much effort; I abandoned the idea out of laziness. Plus I refused to accept some terrible person influenced my choices in life. I actively make the conscious decision every single day that my choices are mine to make, and my life is mine to live. I do not wish to relinquish this control to other people because I can't never control other people. I don't even want to begin trying. <br />
<br />
The biggest mistake I have made in my life is letting people stay in my life far longer than they deserve. I don't regret the things that happened because they filtered out the bad from the good. I insist on being with the good. And no matter how many bad ones I've come across in life, people <i>are</i> mostly good. As inconveniently obvious as the bad ones are, they are the exceptions, never the norm. They exist because they are the ones that make good people good people. Or at least appear to be.<br />
<br />
And because I have enough of these good people in my life, whose companionship has been invaluable, I happily go by the label extrovert.DrBellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01826173957042335316noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8265892893605881174.post-84407188703275656812015-05-23T07:28:00.002+10:002015-05-23T08:06:08.305+10:00The forgiveness experimentSo you’re broken. And then what?<br />
<br />
I have said this previously: some people are malfunctioning, malicious and broken beyond repair. This is because, I think, they’ve been broken one too many times.<br />
<br />
I also think that I am one of these people. I don’t know how to un-break myself. Like when I am confronted with a person who has caused me <i>immense </i>pain and an opportunity to be forgiving, I almost always choose the unfavourable end of the spectrum. Forgiving is like a foreign language to me. [Clarification: key word is immense. If there is no immense pain, I can forgive relatively easily.] This is made more difficult when that person is not exactly repentant, or at least, acknowledge the extent of pain that was caused, although I admit this is difficult to ascertain from the outset.<br />
<br />
I often wish that I am more Mother Teresa:<br />
<br />
“People are often unreasonable and self-centered. Forgive them anyway.<br />
If you are kind, people may accuse you of ulterior motives. Be kind anyway.<br />
If you are honest, people may cheat you. Be honest anyway.<br />
If you find happiness, people may be jealous. Be happy anyway.<br />
The good you do today may be forgotten tomorrow. Do good anyway.<br />
Give the world the best you have and it may never be enough. Give your best anyway. For you see, in the end, it is between you and God. It was never between you and them anyway.” <br />
― Mother Teresa<br />
<br />
A lot of people probably know what forgiveness feels like, but may not necessarily be able to define it. We can say that it is about letting go of anger and disappointment and eventually moving towards the territories of something more positive – and hopefully reach a point of conciliation. For some, it goes even further: forgetting the offence, or even, pardoning the said offence, and eliminating resentment. Or that forgiveness can only be extended when the harm done on the part of the wrongdoer has been recognised. Notwithstanding all of these 'criteria', almost in every case, forgiveness is an option, we may take it, or we may leave it. There is actually no right or wrong because the nature of this act is so personal, but we live in a society that expects certain things to be forgiven simply by virtue of love, and conversely, certain things are deemed unforgivable because forgiving in this situation is perceived as a sign of weakness, submission, lack of boundaries or something along those lines. If you subscribe to a particular religion, of course, you would be exposed to an emphasis to forgive just like [insert any prominent religious character] forgives.<br />
<br />
There are two parts of forgiveness, seeking forgiveness (otherwise known as apologising) and forgiving. I don’t need to point out that they do not always come hand in hand, but just bear that in mind. Other than this, I don’t know much about the science of forgiveness. I strongly suspect, though, that it is more about us than the other person. This is true whether we are the party seeking forgiveness or the party forgiving. This is because we can almost all agree that forgiveness feels better. This is especially true when it comes to forgiveness in the context of close, ongoing relationships. Someone who is around us can be confronted, but this does not guarantee any form of conciliation because there is always a probability that this person would reject the said confrontation, resulting in a compounded anger, disappointment and basically, well, further (unnecessary) pain.<br />
<br />
It is worth noting that what matters is the <i>reason </i>that we forgive or apologise. Let’s draw from a personal experience. I sought forgiveness from someone recently because I’ve caused this person immense pain. And this is the only fact that mattered, how I did so was not relevant, at least in the eyes of the person experiencing the pain. Despite the fact that it wasn’t my fault (a fact that was subsequently commonly agreed), I chose to apologise because this person was and still is one of the most important persons in my life, whom I’d like to be a part of my life for years to come. This person is worth fighting for. I got lucky and was forgiven (or at least, it felt that way). It doesn’t matter whether we are talking about a friend, or a lover, or any else, if we are not willing to fight for them, to go out of our way and make an effort to hold on to them, then we don’t deserve them because hey, obviously, we don’t want them badly enough. I hate to put it this way, but our willingness to fight for it, suffer for it and give up for it ends up telling us how important it really is. This is the kind of forgiveness worth asking for – because anything short of that just doesn’t cut it.<br />
<br />
That said, it would be nice if someone who cares enough about you would say sorry, seek forgiveness because he/she is concerned about your welfare more than relieving his/her guilt. This possibility does exist, no matter how remote. In fact, I think most people would structure their apology so that they can be perceived this way. Very few people have the guts to say their true intentions out loud because society. <br />
<br />
***<br />
<br />
I think a relationship (in the general sense, including the romantic ones) that is dynamic and growing almost always requires a lot of energy, simply because it often involves more than two people, one of which is you. It requires you to learn to stand up for yourself, to fight for yourself, and to pick your battles, so that you’re not completely flat out before you get to accomplish your goals. Of course we all want a relationship that’s relatively low maintenance, but remember that a relationship that’s not being maintained is essentially dead.<br />
<br />
The best relationships are often labelled ‘easy’ – but trust me when I say that they are still a lot of work. And even the best of relationships would have its broken moments. This is not just an example of ‘nothing is perfect’ (but it can get bloody damn close to it though), rather the persons who are able to break us are the ones that we love the most. Yes, it sort of sucks, really, because loving someone opens up the possibility of being broken by this other person. We do it anyway because love is worth fighting for; because anything short of that is quite possibly not love.<br />
<br />
If you really think about it, the whole reason that we chose to engage with people in our lives, in addition to companionship, is to have someone who is willing to fight for you, or when they can’t, remind you to fight for yourself when it matters the most. These people may not necessarily fight for us with their fists (or kukri) in a blood-bath battle, but fight for us with the choices and decisions they make, especially in the way they plan and live their lives, how they forgive, and how committed they are in doing everything they can to grow the relationship.<br />
<br />
For a lot of us, if we were completely honest with ourselves, because we hardly ever have to fight for anything, we never understand what is worth fighting for. This is certainly true for me. When things get too hard, I chose to walk away, jump ship, whatever you want to call it. Walking away is a valid option, and more often than not, an easier option. Staying put, and forgiving, well, that’s a completely different ball game altogether. <br />
<br />
This is often why being broken tends to be so devastating for us: being broken makes us momentarily forget what we were fighting for in the first place, and more importantly, it questions why we were fighting for it. We also forget <i>how </i>to fight for those things that are important to us. Or at the very least, we have to invent new ways to get up and get back to fighting for what we want, again. And again. And again. It is definitely a hard battle, most of the time, it is unglamorous, at times unnecessarily dramatic, and is fought over a lifetime. Now that’s a very long time.<br />
<br />
Yet I feel that this battle is the only valid option, and it is not about saving the other person, it is about saving yourself. Forgiveness is when we love someone wholly, weaknesses and all – and this someone includes you. I believe this is the first step in how to unbreak: change your mindset and fight for yourself, because you need to trust that you are enough: good enough to fight for, and equally important, strong enough to fight for what you want.<br />
<br />
However, some battles are not meant to be fought; some battles we need to walk away from. There are instances whereby our forgiveness happens in the form of us letting go. This usually happens in situations whereby we are mature enough to have perspective on someone else's life, but this same person isn't mature enough to have the same perspective on ours, whether this is due to insane jealousy, unrealistic demands, excessive selfishness or any other form of unreasonable behaviour. This is immaturity; this is not love.<br />
<br />
I have said this previously: I have been lucky to have a loving stepmother. Anyone who's been in a similar situation would come to the same conclusion. A marriage with children that ended in divorce, that's subsequently followed by another marriage, would involve the presence of stepparents in the children's lives. When this happens, the best possible outcome is when the new stepparent becomes a positive influence in the children's lives. Anyone who's in their right mind would be thankful for this.<br />
<br />
There are circumstances whereby one parent would strike at his/her children with emotional threats and blackmails in an ugly and completely unwarranted way, along the lines of "if you love me, you would not be nice to your stepparent". This emotional reaction is understandable, but its inherent childishness is not, and cannot be, excusable. As a child who are stuck in between, I would say from personal experience that this sucks, and it makes having a good relationship, or any form of relationship, with the parent playing these emotional games impossible. I do not wish to regress into an emotional black hole over and over and over again; I just want to be able to move forward without being bullied constantly. Seriously, the world is a harsh enough place, and it is made significantly more painful when disapprovals and frustrations come from someone who are supposed to set an example, but turns out to be the party who needs to quite literally grow up. <br />
<br />
I guess sometimes we forget to grow up. Sometimes walking away is the only thing to do. The sad thing is that the person we walk away from often don't recognise that their unrealistic demands and bad behaviour are the very things that turn us away. Forgive them, anyway. And forgive yourself for preserving your mental health.DrBellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01826173957042335316noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8265892893605881174.post-33541891691896344402015-05-15T21:36:00.001+10:002015-05-15T21:36:49.087+10:00On how far I've come (and why I write)<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">Seven years ago (at the time of writing) I finished a meeting
and walked into the Queen Victoria Building on George Street to meet a bald
man. I had no idea what I was doing, no idea that it was a moment that would
change everything. I certainly wasn’t imagining any kind of future for myself.
I would not use the label desperate, but perhaps that would have been a
somewhat accurate description. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">At this point in my life I was tired,
jaded, spent. Up until a few months prior, I was spending far too much time
with someone who was literally sucking life out of me. This man was charming in
public, but not so much in private. Just like me, he was emotionally volatile.
Towards the end of our separation, he had called me every available name under
the sun, created a website to tarnish my reputation and did everything else he
could have possibly done to make sure that I would commit suicide. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">I obviously did not die, but this was only
part of the reasons why I decided to leave. I am not going to explain them
right now. But this is what I will say: leaving was the only viable option to
me. It certainly wasn’t easy; it was navigating the realm of the unknown on
both personal and professional fronts. I had no idea what I was doing, where I
was going and how I managed to survive all that. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">Miraculously along the way I learned to let
go of some of the old sorrows and started thinking about the person that I
wanted to become. I got reacquainted with myself all over again. I found my way
through the jungle of emotional mess, processing what I was feeling and got
through in one piece. I admitted to myself that a lot of things were not in
line with my desires, needs and values that I upheld dearly – and more
importantly, I wanted to change this. What I eventually realised was that I was
largely uncommitted to myself; I was, for whatever reason, unavailable to
myself. Consequently, I needed to address this issue so that I could actually be
available to myself and stand by own side when things get tough. Or in other
words, I had to learn to love myself all over again; I learned to be happy with
me and accepted myself the way I was, and started appreciating my life like I was
meant to.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">I stopped writing about relationships for
the longest time because I couldn’t make sense of most of mine. I didn’t want to write out of anger; I </span>really didn’t want another story that served to testify
the ugliness of certain human beings out there. I stopped writing about <a href="http://bellereinvention.blogspot.com.au/2015/02/broken.html" target="_blank">being broken</a> until recently, and the irony was that as soon as I made the choice to
start writing about it, I ended being completely broken, so broken that I was
incapable of writing anything.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">I have said this previously, the things
that I write are my understanding of them at that particular point in time. I notice the concurrent themes that are overlapping. The situations may be different,
but the feelings are similar, if not the same. There is a reason why people
with broken hearts have difficulties breathing. It is very possible and
undisputed (by me) that others would have their own version of ‘the truth’,
edited to their own understanding and preconceptions. But this does not negate
the value of your own take on things, because self-reflection can help you
understand why your life turned out the way it did, and perhaps, geared you
into taking action and strengthen your resolve. Far too long, I write because I
felt powerless, angry and misunderstood. I will not write that way again. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">This is why I write: to make sense of my
own story, while drawing from others’ stories, examining my own stories and to
encourage others to examine theirs. </span>They say that experience is like mirrors; they serve to teach us more about ourselves. We have this tendency to attract and be drawn to people that reflect things that we believe about ourselves, such that being involved with these people often end up being a self-fulfilling prophecy. I want to get comfortable questioning my life and to get comfortable talking about this openly, while thinking about the possibility of living in ways that are actually rewarding rather than merely tolerable, and be surrounded by good people in the process. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">Over time, we all change, some of us evolve
at a different rate and end up in a completely different state than we
originally were. Part of this journey is simply accepting that what we want
over the years change. Once upon a time, the idea with this one person was so
intoxicating, until we realised that the reality of being chased by someone who
you’re not sure when you might hear from next was in truth not all that
exciting. You kept on second guessing where you were in relation to his life,
any kind of connection felt forced because it was impossible to forge a real
connection when it felt like you were perpetually grasping for air. The drama
of bad boys and its novelty just wore off eventually. You came to a point
whereby you had enough of regressing. And this got tedious the older that you
get.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">Life is dynamic; if anything, it is a
constantly changing destination. It does not owe us anything, but has
everything to give. The question is how do we receive these gifts? Growing up, I was deprived from stability and spent a good
chuck of my early twenties yearning for stability. I abandoned </span>this fruitless search eventually.
Stability is something that parents give to their children, and that’s about
it. Once you’re grown up, you eventually come to embrace that life is a series
of risks: the higher the risks that you take, the higher the returns that
follows. And none of it is easy; it takes a lot of consistent effort, conducted
in a persistent manner, overcoming exhaustion and the pain associated with
these risks. Sometimes, we go through all of these only to realise that the
rewards are not even worth it in the end. Then we conclude that change really
stinks. Yet it is not the end of the story. What this really is this: a chance
to rewrite your story. An opportunity to take your life in a different
direction – you get to direct the course of your life rather than to live as
reactively and passively as you once did.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">It all sounds so simple and so clear cut
laid out neatly in a blog post. <i>You may not see it today or tomorrow, but you
will look back in a few years and be absolutely perplexed and awed by how every
little thing added up and brought you somewhere wonderful – or where you always
wanted to be. You will be grateful that things didn’t work out the way you once
wanted them to.</i> <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">Seven years ago, I did not imagine the life
that I am living now. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> Right now, </span>I can’t
imagine what my life would look like if I stayed.</span></div>
DrBellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01826173957042335316noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8265892893605881174.post-6276688864272707832015-05-03T09:58:00.000+10:002015-05-03T09:58:32.046+10:00On letting goIt takes a certain skill and commitment to have a certain kind of people in our lives. After about three decades of people coming and going, I must say that age certainly does not make certain things easier. When I say certain things, I really mean life in general. It is not that life gets harder as you get older (some things get easier), it's just that certain things do not get easier. To be fair, they don't necessarily get harder either.<br />
<br />
I have had my heart broken in the past by various ex-lovers and ex-friends, and each and every single one of these was no easier than the last. (The only one that I ever wrote about is this one <a href="http://bellereinvention.blogspot.com.au/2013/12/i-wish-her-happiness.html" target="_blank">here</a>.) It never gets easier, but hey, at least you can get used to it. And this is where I am now: spent. I am spent on all fronts. I do not know what it is that I could have done differently that would have resulted in a different outcome. Fate can be cruel like that.<br />
<br />
I realise that there is a lot of things in this life that I legitimately do not have options in, no matter how badly I want a different outcome. This painful fact is exacerbated by my brain, which likes analysing things to no end, for it keeps on replaying conversations and events and trying to put a various combination of things, while at the same time trying to extract meaning, or I should say, <i>anything</i> meaningful, anything to hang on to. Ah, the futile search for meaning. The endless merry-go-around of nothingness. The emptiness in the end that makes you wonder, why did I waste so much time on it.<br />
<br />
I made the decision a long time ago that I shall cease to be around people who do not make me feel good about life. Life is about growing, changing, rising to new challenges, trying new things and hopefully becoming better persons in the process. I have learned to appreciate those whom I have known for a long, long time, not because of our history, but because of how these people have kept on continuing to somehow make me a better version of my previous self.<br />
<br />
Yet lately, this belief I have had for a long time has been challenged because of this:<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9iR8MG2ScBQpa-6aagAEs7FndivnM5pgV3tu-o1936CPxFDZnH1LaYbBECYVuXNU2SKapcHpPKP-gDJFkIf34hE3BJKF-yYe9VSw6-zxEsey3PH4L4vu5-MwKczEU7qI0pDrhS1Roh5o/s1600/you+can+meet+someone+tomorrow.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9iR8MG2ScBQpa-6aagAEs7FndivnM5pgV3tu-o1936CPxFDZnH1LaYbBECYVuXNU2SKapcHpPKP-gDJFkIf34hE3BJKF-yYe9VSw6-zxEsey3PH4L4vu5-MwKczEU7qI0pDrhS1Roh5o/s1600/you+can+meet+someone+tomorrow.jpg" height="320" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
There is a certain truth in that statement. It is very possible that the person you are yet to meet will have a better intention than anyone you've known all your life. This possibility exists, no matter how remote. And if we are lucky, well, we get to meet this person, and our lives will change for ever for the better, like <a href="http://bellereinvention.blogspot.com.au/2014/06/where-expectation-and-reality-collide.html" target="_blank">this</a>. I called it serendipity. But for all I know, it might have been a part of some elaborate plan that I could not comprehend. And that doesn't matter, really. Because what matters is that it happened, and it changed me in a way that I think makes me a better version of myself.<br />
<br />
It has taken me a very long time to understand this, but perhaps most people we met are not meant to stay in our lives forever. No matter how intense a love we felt for some of these people (and this love is not restricted to that of the romantic kind), no matter how strong we felt our bonds were, they can be easily snapped by something that we thought we could withstand. Or in other words, what felt so strong and enduring is actually very brittle. Or in other words, I was wrong.<br />
<br />
When it comes to human relationships, or human beings in general, I am forever at the mercy of my own limited understanding, so much so that I have given up trying to understand it altogether, and instead just accept that people are like that, and that would be my explanation for the otherwise unfathomable (to me). Someone else might have a different explanation, which I do not have to necessarily agree with - and that is fine, insofar as they do not insist on me sharing this same understanding. And no, let's not talk about what happens when they insist.<br />
<br />
There are some stories that I thought I would never write, for the one that I had drafted was a much, much better version. The version that I wanted to eventuate to reality for no other reason than, well, it was a meant-to-be. In this version, if it so happened that we had to say good bye, then it would be because of something that neither of us can control, like a terminal illness or something equally terrible. In this version, there was nothing voluntary about letting each other go.<br />
<br />
I have come to eventually accept that the version that I might eventually end up writing, the real life version, is one that could not be more painful. I have come to accept that if we were to continue our story from this day forward, that story would be very different than the one we used to have. But you remain one of the very few people that I liked at first sight. It was easy to feel this way because you were (and still are) very attractive physically. It was a bonus, of course, that you are smarter than me. So in short, my superficial side won and I fell hard, and you were worth falling for. In a lot of ways I used to feel that my prayers had been answered: oh dear God, please let the people around me be good looking. Because wefies.<br />
<br />
And for what is now seemingly a brief moment in time, there was warmth. This warmth that once nourished my soul would eventually be reduced to a memory, and overtime, be reduced to nothing. They said that we never truly lost the things that matter. Whether there is truth or not in this statement is something that I would rather not explore. But I can't help wondering if, for reasons I am yet to fathom, we had lost each other long before you said good bye.DrBellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01826173957042335316noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8265892893605881174.post-66607234517659325682015-04-14T07:42:00.000+10:002015-04-14T07:42:46.678+10:00How to love<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><i>"Life is inherently a little depressing.
Some people fill that void with religion; other people fill it with constantly
trying to find something exciting and passionate. Some people just accept it
and find joy within those parameters."</i> (Seth Rogen, 2012)</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">2015 is the toughest year in my life to
date. Despite only a bit over a quarter into the year, I have experienced days
that is so emotionally volatile that left me, for lack of a better word, spent.
(It doesn’t help that for two consecutive months, I was also financially
spent.) There is too much to say on why I feel this way, and truth is that it
might bore most of you. I am someone who writes about the things that happened
in my life based on my understanding of the matter at that point in time. My
understanding is dynamic, it changes as I experience more things, and it gets
challenged on a regular basis, and I openly struggle with a lot of these
challenges. I do not have the answers to everything, and as it is right now, I
have more questions that remain unanswered – and one of these questions is how
to love. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">Often we ask the question ‘do you love me’,
and the person answering the question would hopefully answer truthfully with a
‘yes, I love you’, but we often don’t ask why we ask that question in the first
place, or why we are given the question. The short answer is that we don’t feel
loved; and this feeling is independent of whether the person who is supposed to
love us (or has promised to love us) actually loves us or not. And as the
person who is given the question, it is easy to take this so personally, that
the persons we have been trying to love with our every being do not even
realize that we love them <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">this</i> much.
To put it in another way, it is very possible that we have exerted all that we
can in an attempt to love these people, and they, for whatever reason, just do
not feel our love. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">I admit that personally, when I ask the
question (‘do you love me’) out loud, I never take it seriously. Because on a
deeper level, I feel that if the question goes as far as entering my mental
space then it is obvious that I don’t feel the love this person has for me,
thus the question is redundant. This can be attributed to: (1) there was no
love to begin with; or (2) there was love, but it was terribly expressed. I use
the adverb ‘terribly’ because I, as the intended recipient, do not get it. If
and when this happens, I am of view that this is not entirely my fault, because who <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">doesn’t</i> want to be loved? I believe that
we are all equipped with an in-built love preceptor as part of our biological
make up. In fact, because of this, the reverse scenario is a lot more dangerous
– when you feel love (or thought you were loved) when you were, in fact, simply
not. You are either self-absorbed or just plain delusional. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">And when I am on the other side of the
equation, when I find myself on the receiving end of the question (do you love
me), I don’t take it seriously most of the time. As far as I can remember, it
is rare, if ever, that I actually get asked the question; I don’t recall any
occasion whereby I was asked this question. I would like to think that this is
because the people whom I love know that I love them, although how they know
this remains a mystery to me. I would not claim that I know how to love; I
would only like to think that I love the people whom I love well. I only love a
selected, privileged few. Contrary to popular belief that there is more than
enough love to go around, I choose to deliberately limit the number of people I
love. To me, it is not about how many people you love, nor is it about who you
love, it is about how you love them. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">So how to love?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">Whilst talking about love the other day, we
got to talking about intimacy, and specifically, about sex. This is not the
kind of talk whereby you discuss this is my favourite position, or this is how
I got my first orgasm, but more like how it is an extension of love. I mean,
like it or not, for those who have had sexual relations, it is a pretty
important part of this whole love experience. This is not to say that you gotta
have sex with everyone you love (please, in some context, it is just plain
wrong) – more like when sex is missing, then you can really feel that something
is missing. This sounds twisted, and if it does, I attribute this to my terrible
writing. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">Having sex is essentially an action – it is
an act performed by two people who hopefully love each other. It is an act
longed by two people who are hopefully more than attracted to each other (it is
actually more like two people who are horny, but anyway). Sex gets bad rep
these days, because it has been casualised; and this is not to say that it is
impossible to be so; fuck buddies exist for a reason. Before all of these
casualization business, sex was (and still is) an expression of intimacy – you
learn how to be intimate, you learn to engage on a deeper level – and not just
physically, but emotionally, and more importantly, mentally. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">Or to put it differently, when you engage
in sexual relations with a stranger, the aftermath of such acts often involve a
feeling of emptiness that is more pronounced than before. As in, you felt the
emptiness prior to the act, and perhaps the act was done in an attempt to fill
this void, it did not. But sex with someone you love is more likely fucking
satisfying – literally. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">In fact, I think, everything you do with
someone you love is somehow more satisfying. This is why you want to spend some
time with people you love. This is why you get this unexplainable satisfaction
out of being in the same room as they are, even when you two are doing two
completely different things. This is why you happily interrupt each other
because this is an opportunity for you to affirm each other – see this? See how
stupid this is?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">But the question remains how do you love
someone in a way that makes him or her feel loved and simultaneously makes you
feel you have loved. How do you compromise without losing yourself. How do you
exercise compassion and understanding while still preserving your needs and
desires. How do you change yourself for the better and not expect the other to
change the way you want them to change, and instead accept who they are,
strengths, weaknesses and everything in between. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">How do you keep trying when all that you
want to do is just give up. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">I was lost in love. I fell in love with
this one person; being in love with him was easy because he was (and still is)
beautiful. I lost myself, I forgot who I was and more importantly, I forgot how
to love. In all honesty, I am still largely figuring this out. I hope to
continue to grow my understanding on the matter, and get better at how to love.
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">Or specifically, get better at staying in
love, with those I love and yet to love, including myself. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
<o:OfficeDocumentSettings>
<o:AllowPNG/>
</o:OfficeDocumentSettings>
</xml><![endif]-->
<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
<w:WordDocument>
<w:View>Normal</w:View>
<w:Zoom>0</w:Zoom>
<w:TrackMoves/>
<w:TrackFormatting/>
<w:PunctuationKerning/>
<w:ValidateAgainstSchemas/>
<w:SaveIfXMLInvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid>
<w:IgnoreMixedContent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent>
<w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText>
<w:DoNotPromoteQF/>
<w:LidThemeOther>EN-US</w:LidThemeOther>
<w:LidThemeAsian>JA</w:LidThemeAsian>
<w:LidThemeComplexScript>X-NONE</w:LidThemeComplexScript>
<w:Compatibility>
<w:BreakWrappedTables/>
<w:SnapToGridInCell/>
<w:WrapTextWithPunct/>
<w:UseAsianBreakRules/>
<w:DontGrowAutofit/>
<w:SplitPgBreakAndParaMark/>
<w:EnableOpenTypeKerning/>
<w:DontFlipMirrorIndents/>
<w:OverrideTableStyleHps/>
<w:UseFELayout/>
</w:Compatibility>
<m:mathPr>
<m:mathFont m:val="Cambria Math"/>
<m:brkBin m:val="before"/>
<m:brkBinSub m:val="--"/>
<m:smallFrac m:val="off"/>
<m:dispDef/>
<m:lMargin m:val="0"/>
<m:rMargin m:val="0"/>
<m:defJc m:val="centerGroup"/>
<m:wrapIndent m:val="1440"/>
<m:intLim m:val="subSup"/>
<m:naryLim m:val="undOvr"/>
</m:mathPr></w:WordDocument>
</xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
<w:LatentStyles DefLockedState="false" DefUnhideWhenUsed="true"
DefSemiHidden="true" DefQFormat="false" DefPriority="99"
LatentStyleCount="276">
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="0" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Normal"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="heading 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 7"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 8"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 9"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 7"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 8"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 9"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="35" QFormat="true" Name="caption"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="10" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Title"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="1" Name="Default Paragraph Font"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="11" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Subtitle"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="22" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Strong"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="20" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Emphasis"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="59" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Table Grid"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Placeholder Text"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="1" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="No Spacing"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Revision"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="34" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="List Paragraph"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="29" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Quote"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="30" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Intense Quote"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="19" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Subtle Emphasis"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="21" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Intense Emphasis"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="31" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Subtle Reference"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="32" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Intense Reference"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="33" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Book Title"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="37" Name="Bibliography"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" QFormat="true" Name="TOC Heading"/>
</w:LatentStyles>
</xml><![endif]-->
<!--[if gte mso 10]>
<style>
/* Style Definitions */
table.MsoNormalTable
{mso-style-name:"Table Normal";
mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0;
mso-tstyle-colband-size:0;
mso-style-noshow:yes;
mso-style-priority:99;
mso-style-parent:"";
mso-padding-alt:0cm 5.4pt 0cm 5.4pt;
mso-para-margin:0cm;
mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt;
mso-pagination:widow-orphan;
font-size:12.0pt;
font-family:Cambria;
mso-ascii-font-family:Cambria;
mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-hansi-font-family:Cambria;
mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-ansi-language:EN-US;}
</style>
<![endif]-->
<!--StartFragment-->
<!--EndFragment--><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
DrBellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01826173957042335316noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8265892893605881174.post-49174037277495331772015-04-09T16:33:00.000+10:002015-04-09T16:33:20.607+10:00the necessarily messy complexitiesI yearn for a simpler life. Approximately ten years ago, I caught myself saying this out loud out of frustration, and today, I catch myself doing exactly the same thing. Sometimes I think not much has changed, especially in the desire for a simple life department. But I’ll say this, there were short periods in my life whereby it all seemed relatively simpler, and I treasure those moments. Yes, those were the moments whereby I felt that my life was simple, boring and undramatic – exactly how I wanted it, and how I still want it today.<br />
<br />
I have resigned to the fact that life is hard, and every so now and then, I get a violent reminder of how hard it can actually be; the kind that shook you at your core. Just to give you a few examples, these are along the lines of: that sometimes, despite your best efforts, you still get hurt; that terrible things happen to people who definitely do not deserve them. Why are the most patient girlfriends often the ones who have to put up with perpetually absent, workaholic boyfriends? Because these women are probably the ones who are in the best position to love these obliviously self-absorbed men. Why are the financially astute still can’t by-passed money-related issues in their lives? Why are people who have been seemingly faithful end up being caught in one of the greatest lies of all, and still blatantly deny it?<br />
<br />
And who can explain these mysteries in life, other than the mere fact that sometimes, bad things do not discriminate, they too can happen to good people, to people who have been diligently following the rules, people who do not deviate from doing good things. This is where we all went wrong, because, well, while karma can be such a bitch, unfortunately, doing good does not repel bad things from happening to you. Not even the power of your mind can save you. Because fate. Lame. But true.<br />
<br />
<div>
<i>(and this is why broken people shouldn't attempt writing)</i></div>
DrBellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01826173957042335316noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8265892893605881174.post-61290194889573470622015-02-06T08:34:00.002+11:002015-02-06T08:34:56.621+11:00BrokenI am broken.<br />
<br />
I have been broken one too many times, each one of these events seem to merge together to form one long winded tunnel of memory of broken-ness. I have been broken one too many times to even mind being broken, I got used to this feeling, to this state of being broken. I suspect one too many people know, or at least recognise this when they look into my eyes, and they spot something that sparks a cause for concern. They sit through my fake smile telling them that everything was all right, that I don’t sleep well these days because it is too hot, and I am not referring to the weather.<br />
<br />
It is never easy to lie like this, but at times, they are convenient. I choose easy over and over and over again.<br />
<br />
She is broken.<br />
<br />
She has been broken one too many times, and these are the ones that she shared with me, not because she wanted me to help her pick up the pieces, but more like she knew I could relate to her state of broken-ness. And in turn, she knows that I am broken. Two broken people in the world, albeit for different reasons, some of which overlap.<br />
<br />
Sometimes, words are just not enough. Because sometimes, it is words that break us, especially when they come out of the mouths of the people who supposedly love us. While the people that truly love us sit there in silence, listening to every word that we say, because the real message often lies in the things left unsaid. The things we do to the people who love us.<br />
<br />
We are broken<br />
<br />
We have been broken one too many times for all the wrong reasons, and each and every time, we manage to sticky-tape everything back together into something better. It can almost be forgiven that we think we are untouchable, except that we often forget that we are subjected to the usual human fallacies. We are ill-equipped to deal with what is regarded as one of the most common issues in a relationship. We laugh at them because we think, hey, we are better than that, right. Right? We are obliviously blind to the very same issues that creep up until they eventually cause a crack; a crack that break us.<br />
<br />
We are broken and we are in pain. And the more we are in pain, the more we cause each other pain; the lame excuse we use to justify our shortcomings. We refuse to take responsibility for our actions and prefer to instead place blame on the person we said is the love of our lives. I guess it is true that we only hurt the ones we love.<br />
<br />
We are all broken. But we are still here.<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
***</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Lately, I have been thinking quite a lot about 'stories of struggle' - the stories that we often share to those nearest and dearest to us. When I first started this blog, I made a point to stick to the happy stories, because, well, those are easier to write. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
This year, I am going to write both happy and less happy stories. Stories that make us... human. Stories that would hopefully strengthen our bonds. Stories along similar veins to the ones that I wrote about in the past and promptly got me into trouble. I would strip all names and everything else that may potentially identify the people in these stories, strip all the details and stick to the themes. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
And if, by chance, you happen to figure out who these people are, please be kind and offer an ear. Don't talk about them behind their backs, don't say terrible things about them, don't break their hearts. They are just like us, struggling to find meaning. And to live. </div>
DrBellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01826173957042335316noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8265892893605881174.post-46978132881559078462014-12-10T20:52:00.000+11:002014-12-10T20:52:44.127+11:00The (non) instruction manual for livingWe are going to track back for a bit to year 2008, the year of the Global Financial Crisis, otherwise known as the GFC. It was also the year that I hit one of the lowest points in my life – if not the lowest point to date. Of course when it was happening, it didn’t feel like it was a low point, it just felt like life, and I was living, and struggling and trying to do the best that I could. But now, in retrospect, yes, it was a low point and fuck, how did I survive that? I did not know, and I still don’t know.<br />
<br />
That was the year that I asked so many questions – so many fucking questions that I could not, and still can not, fucking answer. I attributed this to this phenomenon called the quarter life crisis. I mean, when you were young, and you were supposed to live life that was fulfilling and worthwhile, without actually knowing what it looked like, let alone felt like, it was pretty impossible not to get a little depressed. What is this thing called a full, enriching life? And how the fuck do you know when you’ve got one? Navigating your twenties is one ugly beast, because you feel like life, where you are right now, is extremely fucking hard. But you are not allowed to say it as such. You are supposed to make it appear effortless, darling.<br />
<br />
In the year 2008, against all odds, and without managing to figure things out, I survived relatively intact. One thing that is for sure though, even when you manage to figure things out, hold down a job and get a house and a life, all of these could be taken away from you in the blink of an eye, because of things that are beyond your control. Even when you have done everything within your power to weather the bad times, it is rare for anyone to escape unscathed. There would be some effects; some of these are deep and lasting, and invisible to the naked eye. So I hated adulthood; growing old is one motherfucking bitch.<br />
<br />
But I have never told anyone this, until now.<br />
<br />
In fact, I have joined the popular wisdom of getting older: that life gets better. I like to think that this is because I have a terrible memory, but truth is that, I suppress the terrible times, to the point that if I could, I would erase them from my memory. Selective recalling masked as positive thinking. I am all in for being positive and all that jazz, and I remain a big fan until today. And I also believe that it doesn’t hurt to remember the terrible times, even if they only serve as a reminder of how far we’ve become.<br />
<br />
The truth about living is that life doesn’t always get better, and it continuously and perpetually takes a lot of hard work. You don’t always have everything figured out, but it doesn’t give you the excuse to not show up, because living is in showing up. You show up every single day even when you feel so tired and you look at the mirror and notice shit, I not only feel old, I also look old. And I feel fat. Shit, am I fat? When did all of these happen?<br />
<br />
There is a deep satisfaction in showing up because it often carries with it an element of connection, an element of struggle, and more often than not, it involves other people. There is a deep satisfaction when you demonstrate (through your actions) a willingness to take on someone’s cause as your own, especially when you haven’t found out what your cause is. There is a deep satisfaction in knowing that in showing up, you are actually doing something, no matter how small, that contributes something to lives of the people around us.<br />
<br />
There is no instruction manual for living, quite unfortunately. My one and only rule is this thing called flow – there has got to be a flow, you have to stay in motion. Because the alternative, i.e being stagnant, inaction, is never a valid option. Showing up may appear trivial, but the impact on the people that we are interacting with everyday as a result of us showing up is truly profound. Look out for the smile that results from something that you’ve done. You may not find this often, but there is at least one smile amongst all the hustle and bustle of live.<br />
<br />
That one smile is never an isolated effect; believe me when I say this, because of two things. First, the multiplier effect, according to which, this one smile will result in a lot more one-smile-s, which will then result in a lot more more one-smile-s. Or in other words, a smile (or happiness) is contagious. Ever had a stranger smile at you and said somewhat randomly, have a good day? And then you end up having a good day? Yeah, something like that. So, smile, and wish someone a good day, even when that person is not a stranger.<br />
<br />
Two, even when the outcome that we look for is a smile, there is almost always something else, and these things are often invisible to the naked eye, or often referred to as ‘I am happy when I’ve contributed to your happiness’. Your happiness in this case is another effect of you showing up. <br />
<br />
So then, is this the secret to a good life?<br />
<br />
Yes and no. This is because it is rare for two variables to perfectly influence each other. In this case, while it is (somewhat) undisputed that the rate of us showing up is positively correlated with our general well being, there is almost always something else that contributes to this relationship. Or that, even when you’ve successfully identified (albeit only statistically) the relationship between two variables, it is very rarely that this correlation is 100%; there is always something else that contributes to the outcome. Sometimes, this ‘something else’ is a combination of insignificant, therefore seemingly irrelevant causes, so we just tend to ignore them. Because we are much better off concentrating on changing the one thing that we believe is going to result in the outcome that we want. Because limited resources. Because prioritizing. Because laziness.<br />
<br />
I know I am guilty of the last one, which is why I still struggle to make sense of things. I have even more questions today about life than I did one year ago. I still get frustrated on a regular basis because I can’t think my way through these things. Because it makes me feel like I am not smart enough. Like I am dumb, or so blind that I can’t even see these answers that I’ve been told can be found inside me.<br />
<br />
Maybe, just maybe, this is one of those things that I can’t think my way through. Maybe, what this really means is that I need to just stop trying to make sense of things right now. Maybe, one day, it will all be made clear to me. Maybe I would be able to see things that have been there all along. Or maybe not. Or maybe, it doesn’t matter. Because life still goes on as long as I show up, open my heart and appreciate the things that make me grateful to be alive. Or in other words, give my mind a break, live life right now with all of my heart, and celebrate the little moments that contribute to a much bigger sum.<br />
<br />
Happy birthday to me.<br />
<br />
<br />DrBellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01826173957042335316noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8265892893605881174.post-24467259689200799932014-12-01T19:07:00.000+11:002014-12-01T19:07:30.728+11:00A note on crashing an MBA classOne Wednesday evening, I found myself crashing a dear friend's MBA class.<br />
<br />
I don't have a master's degree, so I don't know what to expect, other than I am going to be entertained for the next few hours of my life. I get that this is not the kind of entertainment most people would go for, but it is for me.<br />
<br />
What I got was way more than entertainment; I found out a few interesting things about being human, in the form of really informative graphs that really could've been drawn better (another story another time). There were lessons about how to manage resources (which is what a good MBA program is focused on). There was a lesson about how to manage yourself. More specifically, how to manage your feelings.<br />
<br />
(To most people that were in that room at the same time, the take away is very likely not to be the above; it certainly was not worded nor presented as such. And that's okay, because understandably different things would resonate differently to different people, or differently to the same people in different times of their lives.)<br />
<br />
As a society, we are obsessed with happiness. Like really, really obsessed. Obsessed like all that we ever want in this life is to be happy kind of obsessed. I know because I have said this once upon a time. And the irony is not lost on me that it was during the time that I was most miserable that I said that every single fucking day. I was chasing happiness, without knowing how, and most importantly why.<br />
<br />
After years of futile search and extreme exhaustion that manifested in the form of what I labelled a quarter life crisis, I delved into the topic a bit further. There was a very good chance that I was wrong, and perhaps, I should stop whatever it was I was doing because, well, it was clearly not working.<br />
<br />
I said that my take away from that 3.5 hours entertainment was how to manage my feelings because of this one sentence: you cannot be happy; you can be happy <i><b>about</b> something</i>. And that something better be something you can bloody identify. When I wake up in the morning feeling happy, what I really want to say is I am happy that I had a good night sleep, I wake up feeling rested and ready to start my day. When I say that I want to be happy, what I really want to say is I want to be happy with my choices in life.<br />
<br />
Being able to identify specifically what you are happy with is part of being in touch with your feelings. I think this is a very important step towards being able to manage your feelings. I also think that a lot of times, when we discuss how to manage our feelings, most of the time the discussion is skewed towards suppressing the bad and accentuating the good. There is nothing wrong with accentuating the good, I am a subscriber. But constantly suppressing the bad is dangerous and can be detrimental to one's health. Because I do not believe that the good is meant to cancel the bad, the two are meant to exist side by side as part of this thing we call our feelings. It is very possible that you feel good about something and at the same time feel bad about something else. And this is not a bad thing either, it is just what it is.<br />
<br />
Upon reflection, I think, the same principle applies for all of the feelings that we have: the good and the bad. We are happy about something, we are annoyed about something, we are excited about something and we are bored about something. Yet somehow, the reason behind our feelings are often left out in our sentences. One of the things that we constantly feel is this thing called inconvenience - like, for example, the rain and how we need to walk out of the house with umbrellas that would then get destroyed by the wind. Or that because of the rain, we could not go running our usual track. Or that the broken treadmill in the gym plus the rain mean we have to resort to the bike or the rowing machine, or whatever monstrous machines that we have to endure for the next 20 minutes or so. And most of the time, we summarise all of these with "ugh, so annoying."<br />
<br />
It really doesn't hurt to identify the source of the feeling; in fact, I think it can help us sort out our feelings better. And perhaps, if we get to understand why we feel a certain way, then we would be more open to pause for one moment and feel the feeling, no matter how uncomfortable it is. Because I think, being able to feel a range of your feelings is a part of managing it, and being able to manage this well is a part of growing up. <br />
<br />
We are not skilled in articulating our feelings, or even, identifying our feelings accurately, i.e why we feel a certain way, let alone managing them. When we feel an emotion that's of an uncomfortable nature, we tend to shut it off, or ignore it, because (1) we think it is <i>wrong</i> to feel that way and (2) in some twisted way, we believe that ignoring it will make it go away. We forget that to see the rainbow, we have to live through the rain.<br />
<br />
We are not bad people, even when we do not feel perfectly content about life 24/7. We think we should be excited, giddy, positive <i>all the time</i>. And this is because, well, a lot of people are uncomfortable when we share some form of painful emotion/experience. I don't blame them, really, so most of the time I don't share these things. When I do share them, I get some judgment - which adds to my pain. Very rarely I would get an ear that would listen without judgment. The worst judgment of all: "wow, you are really negative." Yes, I was. I am sorry that I made you feel uncomfortable; but I sure learn my lesson of not sharing private moments with you. [This is a terrible response on my part, I know. I pick this because this is easier for me than trying to connect on a deeper level with this person. This sounds like a cop out, because, well, it is.]<br />
<br />
Why we need to share the good and the bad - especially the bad? Connection on a deeper level. Deep connection that most people shy away from. Including me. Because it takes a lot of time and energy and I only have so much of those.<br />
<br />
But it is through deep connections that we find meaning. Finding meaning does not automatically make us happy; we are happy about having deep connections, hopefully with those we love: when we get to share their deepest, most intimate thoughts and feelings, and for that moment in time, we let them know that we love them, and we act on that love.<br />
<br />
We may not be able to change what we feel, but we have options on how to respond to those feelings. So, choose wisely.<br />
<i><br /></i>
<br />
<i>Every day I make decisions about how I choose to live my life, consciously or not. These decisions become the building blocks of my life. And when I put off making a decision about something, usually because of paralysis by analysis, I still essentially make a decision: that of indecision, and that's when I feel stuck. Stop thinking, start feeling and go with the flow. </i>DrBellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01826173957042335316noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8265892893605881174.post-75279792929773352742014-11-21T19:26:00.000+11:002014-11-21T19:26:19.208+11:00Otherwise known as the things that forced me to grow upIn life we keep coming back to those people whose presence in our lives left a footprint or two. We may not realise it at the time, but in becoming a part of our lives, they were teaching us something. These are some of those lessons.<br />
<br />
**<br />
<i>On identifying true colours</i><br />
<br />
But there was something about him. He was the guy that everybody wants to be near. I was somewhat sure I could not keep up. He was intoxicatingly attractive in his own way. We dived into this thing together. I saw similarities between us and this created an artificial sense of security on my part. I ignored the rest.<br />
<br />
I am sure there were good moments, but these quickly faded. I don’t visit them very often and they dissolve into the background. In the foreground was the after math of the break up. I was no stranger to break-ups. A person’s character is most obvious in how they deal with a break up, almost similar to how they manage to find a parking spot when there was none to be found. Or if they decide to tag along on one of your shopping trips. He was used to shortcuts; it was if he was entitled to such convenience. This preference for shortcuts was one of the many red flags that I ignored and came back to punch me straight on my face, nearly broke my nose and left me bleeding.<br />
<br />
**<br />
<i>On knowing oneself</i><br />
<br />
He was destined to save the world – literally. He was no superhero, but he might as well have been one. I don’t think he goes around with cape, but if he does, it would be a green one. This was a man who singlehandedly goes for what he wanted, and it stung that I wasn’t one of those things.<br />
<br />
Overtime, it became clear that it was the best thing that ever happened to us. What he wanted was and still is everything I didn’t want. I didn’t know myself then, and it scares me that he knew me so well. We made this crazy pact to get together if we were still single at a certain time. I wasn’t single and neither was he. It’s all good, my friend. Everything is like they are supposed to be. He is still saving the world, and is bloody good at that.<br />
<br />
**<br />
<i>On physical attraction</i><br />
<br />
He had a certain aura about him, primarily because he was so bloody handsome. Those eyes, those eyebrows and gawd, he was easily the tallest person that I had ever dated. It was pure, primal attraction on my part; and as I subsequently found out, physical attraction was an untamable beast. Therefore it was rather ironic that physically, our compatibility never tested, let alone eventuated. It was, however, the source of many terrible decisions that could have and should have been avoided.<br />
<br />
Looking back, I am fascinated to no end – what is it about physical attraction that made you willing to overlook everything else? Like that one time when he told you that he was (ironically) physically intimate with another girl, which ‘didn’t mean anything’. Physical attraction cannot and should not be the single determining factor in this thing called compatibility in a relationship. Its importance is often overrated, although it doesn't mean that its subscribers are shallow. What it does mean is that their language of love involves physical touch. <br />
<br />
**<br />
<i>On bragging</i><br />
<br />
He was (and still is) the son of a rich man who flaunted his wealth on a regular basis, starting with his choice of car, which was his thanks to his parents' generosity. I used to think that this is a function of the rather shallow environment that he grew up in, or rather, operated in, but some years later, I discovered that old habits die hard. We were in a club, amongst all places, with some friends, some of whom he had just met, and there he was, bragging about his latest conquests - cars, houses and other equally materialistic pursuits.<br />
<br />
What he didn't know (and may never find out in this life time) was the number of people who were repulsed by his actions. Instead of talking to people and getting to know them better, he was busy establishing status - that somehow, because of his acquisition of the things that displays success (which combined together screams success), he was better than the rest of us. On the other hand, I couldn't care less. So what you're rich? That doesn't (and didn't) impress me much.<br />
<br />
On that note, so what you're educated? That doesn't impress me much.<br />
<br />
What impresses me? Your character, your attitude, how you treat other people (with kindness), how you treat yourself (with compassion), and that you act with integrity, uphold honesty and genuinely embrace vulnerability.DrBellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01826173957042335316noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8265892893605881174.post-22470804672705121132014-11-19T16:26:00.000+11:002014-11-19T16:26:35.227+11:00All I want for my birthday... I am going to be one year older soon.<br />
<br />
And in line with keeping with tradition, I am writing a birthday wish list. I am a firm believer in telling people what you want because this increases the chance of you actually getting what you want as it takes the guess work out of the equation, and subsequently allows the other person to concentrate their efforts on getting you what you want. This, of course, does not gel well with some people. In fact, in a recent discussion I found myself in when it comes to birthday gifts, to some people, giving a wish list took away the meaning of gifting – you know the whole, I see this thing, think about you and then actually give it to you. I guess viewed this way, I am just a terrible person when it comes to gifting. Or perhaps, I just don’t know people that well to be able to give them with an object that I deem to be something they may derive a lot of enjoyment of.<br />
<br />
But I am all in for open and transparent communication that’s often borderline inappropriate, so here we go. Before we launch into this year’s birthday list, let’s see what happened to last year’s wish list.<br />
<br />
<i>Running without pain.</i> While I ran for most of this year without much pain, there were definitely moments whereby running was painful. This stays on this year’s list while I work out what is the most optimum way for me to run. My personal best for this year is 5km in 26:30. It happened just once and I haven’t had a repeat performance ever since. If I get to beat this time next year, that would be fucking awesome.<br />
<br />
<i>A dog. </i>Oh gawd, I want a dog. Since forever. This is also not possible given our living situation. So this is put on hold indefinitely. It hurts my chest writing this (then again, I am currently battling a throat/chest infection).<br />
<br />
<i>A huge kick-ass mirror.</i> Don’t know happened with this one because actually, found a good candidate for the apartment and then don’t know what happened, didn’t end up purchasing. Hm. Perhaps this is a good sign that this should not have been on the list.<br />
(but I still kind of want the mirror…)<br />
<br />
This year’s birthday wish list goes like this: all of the above plus the following (in no particular order of importance)<br />
<br />
<i>Fried chicken. </i>Holy fuck, I abstained from fried chicken for a whole month and have not been missing it since then like I thought I would. I have not had fried chicken in what seems like forever and I find myself not thinking about it as often as I had been in the past. While this break up is definitely unintended, it is much welcome by my arteries and my heart, but somehow my throat responded by getting an infection (see above). That said, I want some fried chicken. It’s my birthday and I will eat fried chicken if I want to. If I die, I will die on a high, which is infinitely better in my books rather than living a mediocre, fried-chicken-less life.<br />
<br />
<i>Clothes that fit.</i> I tagged along a dear friend to his tailor yesterday, and got to witness a lesson on fit. Clothes that fit is like so fucking important that I can even begin to tell you why that’s the case. Yes, I know that these days my fit standard is somewhat on the poor end of the scale, with all those oversized shirts – what can I say, it’s hot outside. Yet the real reason is that my body shape is changing, quite possibly due to my exercise routine. On this note, while I am all in for being healthy (it is after all the most important element of an enjoyable life), this whole business of changing shapes is getting annoying. Because as much as I like going shopping and dressing myself, this is also a very expensive process and my bank account needs to be kept happy.<br />
<br />
But those things, really, are not <i>that </i>important. Because if I were to be completely honest, I already have all that I want. I am happy with the decisions that I make in my life, I am blessed with good health and I enjoy the company of the finest people in this life – people, whom I feel, love me without having to mouth those words.<br />
<br />
I am very very lucky.<br />
<br />
And I actually look forward to getting older, and hopefully, wiser.<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
DrBellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01826173957042335316noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8265892893605881174.post-74657637517685379812014-10-16T17:30:00.000+11:002014-10-16T17:30:14.267+11:00Reflections after one year of marriageWe celebrated our one-year wedding anniversary.<br />
<br />
Every time I think about our wedding day, and now, our anniversary, I always tell myself that this time, it’s going to be <i>different</i>; different in the sense that I am actually going to remember this day in the years to come. I am even going to go to lengths to celebrate it. Damn, if there is one thing that I can be good at in this life, then this would be it: remembering our wedding anniversary. So far, my success rate is 100%. Ask me again next year to see if the number stays the same.<br />
<br />
Throughout our dating life, I have a terrible history of remembering our dating anniversary. This would make for a funny story if not for the fact that the said date is actually in my diary and every single year, without fail, I make a promise to myself to remember it. So far, the success rate is big fat zero. The only consolation I take is that my other half forgets it too, so every year, it’s like <i>this</i> is why we are still together (and this is also one of the very many reasons why we are still married).<br />
<br />
That was until I discover that apparently remembering anniversaries is a task for the females of the relationship. So, if the male forgets, it’s okay, because, you know, male. But females, well. I swear sometimes I am not a female. That came out wrong. Gah.<br />
<br />
What's more relevant (and perhaps, also important) is that there is always room for improvement. While this is perhaps a little too early for me to say, the secret to remembering anniversaries – easy: pick an easy date to remember. This is why our wedding anniversary is infinitely easier to remember as supposed to our dating anniversary. As I have always said, when you have the option to set up something for yourself, design it well. Choose a good date for your wedding. It will save you a lifetime of headache and guilt. (The irony of this whole situation is that we didn’t exactly choose our wedding date – it was chosen for us in accordance with the alignment of the moon and the stars, and in the process we got lucky that it happened to be an easy date to remember. This is a sign that some things in life are just a meant-to-be.)<br />
<br />
I started writing this post wanting to write about love, because well, that’s what weddings are all about, if you strip off the flowers, the cake and everything else. It is a celebration of love. I also discovered that it is difficult to write about love – it is simple yet complex at the same time, it is liberating and constricting all at once. The intensity of this emotion is very difficult to distill into words. Or maybe, I just don’t know enough words or how to string them together.<br />
<br />
Sometime during the course of our first year of marriage, I managed to convince my other half that it was worthwhile doing the language of love test, if only as a confirmation of what I thought his language of love was. And being newlyweds, of course it was easy to convince him that this was something that would make me happy (ha!). Not that I didn’t get any resistance, mind you, because that test was (and maybe still is) somewhat rather repetitive and whilst he was doing it, I got a few threats of quitting. The validation I got was not limited to the confirmation of what his language of love was, it was, more importantly, his gesture of doing things that I asked, that I deemed important, even when he hardly saw any value in doing so. Oh, and of course, never quit, guys, even when the task at hand is seemingly so pointless to you. It may mean the world to someone else. What’s a few minutes of your time in exchange for a lifetime of happiness? Do I hear fantastic investment? Amen. (We love cheese.)<br />
<br />
When we got married, we made a promise to each other that we would love each other forever. There were other words that were spoken, but essentially, that’s what it is. The key word is forever. To promise to love someone forever is a really big deal, at least in my life. I have never even promised my parents that I would love them forever (sorry Dad, Mom). And besides, in all honesty, these days, I don’t promise anyone anything anymore, and I never asked for their promises in return. I think promises, just like honesty, are expensive; I am not sure I can afford them.<br />
<br />
Because as I got older, the more I realise that keeping a promise is never easy. Even with the best of intentions, shit happens and when you fail to keep your promise, the trust withdrawal can be oh so crippling. I should know because, well, you know, life. So I make a rule for myself that I would only make promises I know I can keep primarily to keep myself happy. Girl has priorities, okay.<br />
<br />
A promise to love someone sounds very arbitrary at best. Sometimes, you think you are loving this person so much until it hurts your bones, but that person do not feel the same way, and then, you’re pretty much fucked. Sometimes, you think you are doing so much in an effort to love this person, and instead of making this person feel special and loved, you end up pushing him/her away. Unintentionally, of course, but it happens.<br />
<br />
Perhaps, the promise should read: I promise to love you <i>the way you want to be loved</i>. But this is assuming that that person knows what sort of love he/she wants. That’s the easy bit What if this changes overtime? What are you going to do about your promise to love them forever?<br />
<br />
Truth is that, it is rare for anyone to be able to work out what anyone else wants in the long-term sense, because, obviously, people change. Everything (and everyone) is constantly temporary. I want you to love me this way today: by eating fried chicken with me. Tomorrow, I want you to love me this way: by eating anything other than fried chicken with me so that my arteries are not clogged before I turn 34.<br />
<br />
Just because you are married does not mean you’ve got this whole love thing all worked out. In fact, quite the opposite – you discover that this is so big and so deep it is actually beyond your comprehension (if you’re willing to admit it). How the fuck do you get a grasp on something that is so infinitely incomprehensible? Where the fuck do you start?<br />
<br />
This whole love thing is overwhelmingly … overwhelming. <br />
<br />
At its most basic level, I am thankful that despite all the privileges of our lives, we take pleasure in the small and simple pleasures. We don’t strive to be happy all the time, but we strive to be happy about the lives that we live. We take time to appreciate each other, even when we constantly forget anniversaries. We don’t wait for big moments. We don’t strive to create big moments. Our small moments become one big moment. The things that we do for each other every single day are the ones that bring color into the big picture. <br />
<br />
I obviously don’t have this whole love thing figured out, but it doesn’t stop me from loving you.<br />
Happy anniversary, le husb. I love you way more than fried chicken. And pork belly.<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
DrBellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01826173957042335316noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8265892893605881174.post-9853082339821129502014-10-05T21:09:00.000+11:002014-10-05T21:09:00.553+11:00On home ownershipOne of the things that have been discussed ad nauseam lately is the renting versus buying your home. You all know the drill: option one is to save for that downpayment of your home and then spend the next twenty or thirty years paying the mortgage, while enjoying this thing called home ownership. Option two is to rent your home and invest your excess cash into some form of investment (most likely tied to the stock market) and then hope that by the end of the thirty years, you would have benefitted from the arrangement one way or the other.<br />
<br />
No, I am not going to do the numbers, or present them here for you. This is because these sort of comparative analyses often depend on the assumptions behind the model and if you are really clever, you can spin it whichever way you want to. This is not to say that these models are useless; rather, we must be critical of the information that's presented to us. Do not blindly believe everything you see. Question those assumptions, change them, see if the analysis still makes sense. You can forecast into the future however you want to, with varying degrees of conservativeness, and guess what - you can never will them to reality. Or maybe you can, <i>when you get lucky</i>.<br />
<br />
And from time to time, we do get lucky, and yet when this happens, we think we were so smart to have foreseen this seemingly inevitable reality happening. Actually, no. There are so many things that are beyond our control that just happen to work for us. Of course it helps that we are prepared to seize the opportunity when it first appears. We even strategise on what we would do if and when those opportunities happen.<br />
<br />
Getting back to the numbers, I think at the end of the day, they would be pretty much the same, i.e. neither is better than the other, especially when you take into account risks profiles, time horizons, tax concessions, liquidity, time value of money... your NPV in both scenarios are likely to be close together. So really, in my opinion, this is not a decision that one should make based on numbers alone. There a lot of things in life that we do not assess by numbers, so why is it the case that our living arrangement is a decision that we make based on numbers alone? Or at least, a decision that heavily skews towards what the numbers say.<br />
<br />
I am going to say this: cash flow wise, depending on where you live, renting is almost always more forgiving towards your bank account than buying. More often than not, you will have less cash outflow as a renter than as a buyer. So if your decision is purely based on cash flow, then this is where you stop considering all the other factors that could be relevant on this issue. And it's ok to make this decision purely based on cash flow alone. I work with money on a daily basis, so I understand where you are coming from.<br />
<br />
However, just because you are part of the number-focused party does not mean that everyone else should subscribe to the same school of thought. Because to those who can afford it, the intangible benefits of owning your own home is something that money can't buy - the fact that they can buy it with money is part of the intangible benefits so to speak.<br />
<br />
From this perspective, it is somewhat irrational, particularly if you think that having numbers to back you up rationalise your perspective. However, just because they are seemingly irrational does not mean they are useless. I am talking about things like the trade off between stability v flexibility, high maintenance (and its associated freedom to do whatever you fucking want) vs low maintenance (and the hassle of obtaining permission to do the smallest things), and things of similar vein. And guess what - a lot of us are actually irrational people who like to rationalise our options and decisions - and using numbers to do this can be very very dangerous.<br />
<br />
I belong to the buy-your-home camp. I am currently paying down the mortgage to my apartment. This decision costs me at least $10k more than renting (approximately $1k per month). And no, I don't think about this as an investment; I regard it as simply buying comfort. Yes, I get that you can buy comfort some other way, this is just how <i>I</i> buy my comfort.<br />
<br />
That brings me to my next point: make this decision based on the lifestyle that you deem suitable for you, not for someone else. This is perhaps the hardest thing to figure out because while most of us probably know what we want, it takes quite a lot of guts to (1) admit it and (2) make sure that your actions actually align with it. Plus there is the fear factor - the fear of making the wrong decision, especially on something so... big.<br />
<br />
Look, if it works for you, it works for you. If it doesn't, then you need to change it. Of course it always helps to have a buffer. As I have always said, one of the ways you can prepare for life is with a strong budget. The interest rate can raise two times its current rate, and you can ride it through with your budget. Seriously, it's not that hard. It just requires you to live within your means.<br />
<br />DrBellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01826173957042335316noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8265892893605881174.post-60465607980511630252014-09-21T17:30:00.001+10:002014-09-21T17:30:29.499+10:00irritating truths on understanding the opposite sexboth men and women can be difficult to understand.<br />
<br />
1. if a man sees his partner (who is a woman) with another man, then presumably he would be ahem, jealous. even when it is just a little bit. but he likes to act cool and says that its ok when it really is not okay. when the situation is reversed and the woman says that it is not alright (because she is jealous even when she doesnt want to admit it - just like men), she is regarded as insecure :(<br />
<br />
jealousy is a hormonal reaction and is an uncomfortable feeling. it sucks to the core, even when it is just a little bit. it is after all one of the seven lethal sins :(<br />
<br />
2. if a woman cries often then she is sensitive. when a man cries often, then he is errr... [insert whatever you want]. is it just me or is it really RARE for men to be crying in front of another person. when a woman does not cry, then she is insensitive. when a man does not cry, then he is err... normal?<br />
<br />
crying is an individual preference. it is also tiring - at least for me. so i hate crying and i hate being around people who are crying. and that had just earned me the label of insensitive. oh well.<br />
<br />
3. if a woman calls her partner and he does not answer - he is busy. if a man calls and his partner does not answer, then he freaks out. if a woman calls her partner often, then she is caring. if a man calls his partner often then he is a control freak.<br />
<br />
calling is an individual preference. some like it, others don't.<br />
<br />
4. this is an extension of 3. if a woman talks a lot, she is just being herself. if a man talks a lot, then he is talkatively talkative. if a woman gossips a lot, then she is just being a typical woman. if a man gossips a lot, he must be gay (or anything along those lines).<br />
<br />
talking can be tiring, especially when they are on unnecessary topics. gossips are more often than not hilarious and hopelessly inaccurate. don't glamorise it.<br />
<br />
5. in an argument between a man and a woman, if the man chooses to leave, he is just being himself - he retreats to his cave. if the woman choose to leave, then she doesn't care :( if a woman insists on talking things through, she is just being herself. if a man insists on talking things through, he is being pushy.<br />
<br />
some people - like yours truly - prefer to retreat to their caves. please just let me be. sometimes, problems can't be solved by talking immediately. sometimes, we need to take a breather. it doesn't mean that i won't come back, it just means i need to detach myself for a while. when i am ready, i will come back to you. if you would still have me.<br />
<br />
6. if a guy does x, then he is interested in the girl. if a girl does x, then she is a door mat. bah.<br />
<br />
hey, girl has needs. at least five times a week, and one of those has to be on the weekend.<br />
<br />
7. if a girl shows excessive pda (public display of affection), she is a slut. if a guy shows excessive pda, he is insecure. remedy: dont show pda. haHA.<br />
<br />
8. at the end of the day, everyone is afraid of becoming emotionally irrelevant.<br />
<br />
(wrote this back in 2009. not much has changed since then.)DrBellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01826173957042335316noreply@blogger.com0