the art of sharing words

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 others choose to shine out into the world, becoming more ourselves for their having said what they have to say? - Lisa Olivera 2023

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 that actually matters to me. 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. 

the art of relationships: a note on human connection

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. 

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 feel 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. 

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. 

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 feel 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 are home. 

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. 

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. 

“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.” ― C. JoyBell C.

the art of aging gracefully (maybe)

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. 

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 taught 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; they forgot to tell us.  

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. 

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. 

So how to excel at adulting? 

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.   

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. 

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. 

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. 

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. 

I think that’s a good adult. 

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.  

an ode to the year that was

 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 global pandemic, but now sitting here, I doubt that I would ever finish it. 

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. 

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. 

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. 

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.    

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. 

But I got lucky. And for some reason I am yet to comprehend, everything works in my favour. I am humbled and incredibly grateful. 

the art of being old: a note on a blessed life

I 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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.)

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.

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.

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.

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.

On being judgmental: a note on understanding oneself

I 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.

This list, summarised, would read: why people are so mean.

Like seriously.

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.

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.

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.)

So, why are people so mean?

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.

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.

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).

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.

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.

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?

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?

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 ;)

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.

the art of being old: a note on a beautiful life

in 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 inside. 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.

we are all getting older every single minute, every single second of every single day.

(thank you Gary for that very insightful observation.)

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.)

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 to be, 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.

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 plan to have fun, or does fun just, you know, happen?

or is it just me, over-analysing everything again, as usual.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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, and that is actually ok. 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.

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.

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.

is there anything more beautiful than that?

a very happy birthday to me.