If you want to search for the real self within you, you have to push yourself past the boundaries at times. Create new experiences, try out new things, go for something that is out of your comfort zone. Try it the first time, notice your reaction. Try it the second time, see if you handle it better than before. Try it the 3rd time. Does it become less threatening? Try it the 10th time, does it still bother you? Try it more than 20 times, has it become 2nd nature? If you realise that you grow to like it. BRAVO. Maybe you just discover a part of yourself that was not allowed to surface before. If you hate it, it just means you see yourself clearer than before, you are now aware of one more thing that irks you or makes you feel uncomfortable.
The search for oneself is sometimes painful or even lonely but at the end, it may be worth it. Hopefully, at the end of the rainbow, you will find your own pot of gold.
If you ever feel lost, lonely, upset, seek solace that there are a few hundred thousands people out there that are not even experiencing the wealth of emotions that you are experiencing because it has never dawn to them that they are lost. Is ignorance really bliss or one day, these people will just wake up, regretting the times they lost while in denial.
If the search for what you want is so painful that you can't bear it, take a break. Relook at your options. Do you still have any other choices? Is everything worth the pain? If it is not worth it, then maybe it is not so important to you after all. If after reflection, you still want it badly. Take a break, rest enough and continue your pursue.
Humans give up too easily and regret too much,appreciate too little and lament too often, doubt too much and believe otherwise.
In the face of challenges, I implore everyone to just think if all probs stem from your own cognitions. If your probs are mainly due to the way you see things and you see yourself, please be less harsh on yourself and your love ones. Love yourself more. Even if you can't love yourself, the least minimum is to accept.
Easier said than done but definitely something that we shld try because your world is shaped by the way you treat yourself.
Monday, August 31, 2009
Sunday, August 23, 2009
The Search 3
I read an essay that was posted on a friend's blog and decided to post it here as well. It was written by a Sec 3 girl, Amanda Chong from Raffles Girls Secondary, a winning entry in the annual Commonwealth Essay competition. If you do have the time, you prob should read it too.Can be thought-provoking.
Are you in the searching for the same wants as the modern woman too?
Are you turning into the next modern woman?
What the Modern Woman Wants...
By Amanda Chong Wei-Zhen
The old woman sat in the backseat of the magenta convertible as it careened down the highway, clutching tightly to the plastic bag on her lap,afraid it may be kidnapped by the wind. She was not used to such speed, withtrembling hands she pulled the seatbelt tighter but was careful not to touch the patent leather seats with her callused fingers, her daughter had warnedher not to dirty it, 'Fingerprints show very clearly on white, Ma.'
Her daughter, Bee Choo, was driving and talking on her sleek silvermobile phone using big words the old woman could barely understand.'Finance', 'Liquidation', 'Assets', 'Investments'... Her voice was crisp and important and had an unfamiliar lilt to it.Her Bee Choo sounded like one of those foreign girls on television. She was speaking in an American accent.The old lady clucked her tongue in disapproval..... 'I absolutely cannot have this. We have to sell!'
Her daughter exclaimed agitatedly asshe stepped on the accelerator; her perfectly manicured fingernails gripping onto the steering wheel in irritation.'I can't DEAL with this anymore!' she yelled as she clicked the phone shut and hurled it angrily toward the backseat. The mobile phone hit the old woman on the forehead and nestled soundlessly into her lap. Shecalmly picked it up and handed it to her daughter.'Sorry, Ma,' she said, losing the American pretence and switchingto Mandarin. 'I have a big client in America . There have been a lot of problems.'The old lady nodded knowingly. Her daughter was big and important.
Bee Choo stared at her mother from the rear view window, wondering what she was thinking. Her mother's wrinkled countenance always carried thesame cryptic look. The phone began to ring again, an artificially cheerfuldigital tune, which broke the awkward silence. 'Hello, Beatrice! Yes, this is Elaine.' Elaine. The old womancringed. I didn't name her Elaine. She remembered her daughter tellingher, how an English name was very important for 'net working', Chinese ones being easily forgotten.'Oh no, I can't see you for lunch today. I have to take theancient relic to the temple for her weird daily prayer ritual.' Ancient Relic.
The old woman understood perfectly it was referring to her. Her daughter always assumed that her mother's silencemeant she did not comprehend.'Yes, I know! My car seats will be reeking of joss sticks!' The old woman pursed her lips tightly, her hands gripping her plastic bag indefence.The car curved smoothly into the temple courtyard. It looked almost garish next to the dull sheen of the ageing temple's roof. The old woman got out of the back seat, and made her unhurried way to the main hall.Her daughter stepped out of the car in her business suit andstilettos and reapplied her lipstick as she made her brisk way to her mother's side.'Ma, I'll wait outside. I have an important phone call to make,' she said, not bothering to hide her disgust at the pungent fumes of incense.
The old lady hobbled into the temple hall and lit a joss stick, she knelt down solemnly and whispered her now familiar daily prayer to the Gods.Thank you God of the Sky, you have given my daughter luck all theseyears. Everything I prayed for, you have given her. She has everything ayoung woman in this world could possibly want. She has a big house with aswimming pool, a maid to help her, as she is too clumsy to sew or cook. Her love life has been blessed; she is engaged to a rich and handsome angmoh man.Her company is now the top financial firm and even men listen to what sh esays.. She lives the perfect life. You have given her everything except happiness. I ask that the gods be merciful to her even if she has lost her roots while reaping the harvest of success.What you see is not true, she is a filial daughter to me. She gives me a room in her big house and provides well for me. She is rude to me only because I affect her happiness.. A young woman does not want to be hindered by her old mother. It is my fault.The old lady prayed so hard that tears welled up in her eyes.Finally, with her head bowed in reverence she planted the half-burnt jossstick into an urn of smoldering ashes. She bowed once more.
The old woman had been praying for her daughter for thirty-two years. When her stomach was round like a melon, she came to the temple and prayed that it was a son.Then the time was ripe and the baby slipped out of her womb,bawling and adorable with fat thighs and pink cheeks, but unmistakably, a girl. Her husband had ticked and punched her for producing a useless babywho could not work or carry the family name.Still, the woman returned to the temple with her new-born girl tied to her waist in a sarong and prayed that her daughter would grow up and haveeverything she ever wanted.
Her husband left her and she prayed that her daughter would neverhave to depend on a man. She prayed every day that her daughter would be a great woman, the woman that she, meek and uneducated, could never become. A woman with nengkan; the ability to do anything she set her mind to. A woman who commanded respect in the hearts of men. When she opened her mouth tospeak, precious pearls would fall out and men would listen. She will not belike me, the woman prayed as she watched her daughter grow up and drift away from her, speaking a language she scarcely understood. She watched her daughter transform from a quiet girl to one whoopenly defied her, calling her laotu, old fashioned.... She wanted her mother to be 'modern', a word so new there was no Chinese word for it.
Now her daughter was too clever for her and the old woman wondered why she had prayed like that. The Gods had been faithful to her persistent prayer, but the wealth and success that poured forth so rich ly had buried the girl's roots and now she stood faceless with no identity, bound to the soil ofher ancestors by only a string of origami banknotes. Her daughter had forgotten her mother's value. Her wants were so ephemeral, that of a modern woman. Power, wealth, access to the best fashionboutiques and yet her daughter had not found true happiness. The old woman knew that you could find happiness with much less.When her daughter left the earth, everything she had would count fornothing. People would look to her legacy and say that she was a great womanbut she would be forgotten once the wind blows over, like the ashes of burntpaper convertibles and mansions.The old woman wished she could go back and erase all her big hopesand prayers for her daughter now that she had looked out of the temple gates.
She saw her daughter speaking on the phone, her brow furrowed with anger and worry. Being at the top is not good, the woman thoug ht, there is only oneway to go from there – down.The old woman carefully unfolded the plastic bag and spread out apacket of beehoon in front of the altar. Her daughter often mocked her forworshipping porcelain Gods. How could she pray to them so faithfully andexpect pieces of ceramic to fly to her aid? But her daughter had her own gods too, idols of wealth, success and power that she enslaved to andworshipped every day of her life.Every day was a quest for the idols, and the idols she worshipped counted for nothing in eternity. All the wants her daughter had would slowly suck the life out of her and leave her, an empty souless shell at the altar. The old woman watched the joss stick. The dull heat had left ateetering grey stem that was on the danger of collapsing.
Modern woman nowadays, the old lady signed in resignation, as she bowed to the east bone final time to end her ritual. Modern woman nowadayswant so much that t hey lose their souls and wonder whey they cannot find it. Her joss stick disintegrated into a soft grey powder. She met herdaughter outside the temple, the same look of worry and frustration was etchedon her daughter's face. An empty expression, as if she was ploughing through the soil ofher wants looking for the one thing that would sown the seeds of happiness. They climbed into the convertible in silence and her daughter drove along the highway, this time not to fast as she had done before.
‘Ma,’ Bee Choo finally said. "I don't know how to put this.Mark and I have been talking about it and we plan to move out of the big house. The property market is good now, and we managed to get a buyerwilling to pay us seven million for it. We decided we'd prefer a cosier penthouse apartment instead. We found a perfect one in Orchard Road . Oncewe move into our apartment, we plan to get rid of the maid, so we can havemore space to ourse lves...."The old woman nodded knowingly. Bee Choo swallowed hard. "We'd get someone to come in to do the housework and we can eat out – but once the maid is gone, there won't be anyone to look after you. You will be awfullylonely at home and, besides that the apartment is rather small. There won't be space. We thought about it for a long time, and we decided the best thing for you is if you moved to a Home. There's one near Hougang – it's a Christian home and a very nice one."
The old woman did not raise an eyebrow. I"ve been there, the matron is willing to take you in. It's beautiful with gardens and lots ofold people to keep you company! Hardly have time for you, you'd be happier there." "You'd be happier there, really." her daughter repeated as if to affirm herself.
This time the old woman had no plastic bag of food offering tocling tightly to, she bit her lip and fastened her seat belt, as if it would protect her from a daughter who did not want her anymore. She sunk deep into the leather seat, letting her shoulders sag and her fingers trace the white seat.Ma, her daughter asked, searching the rear view window for hermother. "Is everything okay?What had to be done, had to be done. "Yes" she said firmly,louder than she intended, 'if it will make you happy,' she added morequietly.‘It's for you, Ma! You will be happier there. You can move there tomorrow, I already got the maid to pack your things.' Elaine saidtriumphantly, mentally ticking yet another item off her agenda. 'I knew everything would be fine.'
Elaine smiled widely; she felt liberated. Perhaps getting rid of her mother would make her happier. She had thought about it. It seemed the only hindrance in her pursuit of happiness. She was happy now. She had everything a modern woman ever wanted; money, status, career, love, power and now freedom without her motherand her old-fashioned ways to weigh her down...... Yes she was free.
Her phone butted urgently, she picked it up andread the message, still beaming from ear to ear. "Stock 10% increase."
Yes, things were definitely beginning to look up for her and while searching for the meaning of life in the luminance of her hand phone screen,the old woman in the backseat became invisible and she did not see her in tears.
Are you in the searching for the same wants as the modern woman too?
Are you turning into the next modern woman?
What the Modern Woman Wants...
By Amanda Chong Wei-Zhen
The old woman sat in the backseat of the magenta convertible as it careened down the highway, clutching tightly to the plastic bag on her lap,afraid it may be kidnapped by the wind. She was not used to such speed, withtrembling hands she pulled the seatbelt tighter but was careful not to touch the patent leather seats with her callused fingers, her daughter had warnedher not to dirty it, 'Fingerprints show very clearly on white, Ma.'
Her daughter, Bee Choo, was driving and talking on her sleek silvermobile phone using big words the old woman could barely understand.'Finance', 'Liquidation', 'Assets', 'Investments'... Her voice was crisp and important and had an unfamiliar lilt to it.Her Bee Choo sounded like one of those foreign girls on television. She was speaking in an American accent.The old lady clucked her tongue in disapproval..... 'I absolutely cannot have this. We have to sell!'
Her daughter exclaimed agitatedly asshe stepped on the accelerator; her perfectly manicured fingernails gripping onto the steering wheel in irritation.'I can't DEAL with this anymore!' she yelled as she clicked the phone shut and hurled it angrily toward the backseat. The mobile phone hit the old woman on the forehead and nestled soundlessly into her lap. Shecalmly picked it up and handed it to her daughter.'Sorry, Ma,' she said, losing the American pretence and switchingto Mandarin. 'I have a big client in America . There have been a lot of problems.'The old lady nodded knowingly. Her daughter was big and important.
Bee Choo stared at her mother from the rear view window, wondering what she was thinking. Her mother's wrinkled countenance always carried thesame cryptic look. The phone began to ring again, an artificially cheerfuldigital tune, which broke the awkward silence. 'Hello, Beatrice! Yes, this is Elaine.' Elaine. The old womancringed. I didn't name her Elaine. She remembered her daughter tellingher, how an English name was very important for 'net working', Chinese ones being easily forgotten.'Oh no, I can't see you for lunch today. I have to take theancient relic to the temple for her weird daily prayer ritual.' Ancient Relic.
The old woman understood perfectly it was referring to her. Her daughter always assumed that her mother's silencemeant she did not comprehend.'Yes, I know! My car seats will be reeking of joss sticks!' The old woman pursed her lips tightly, her hands gripping her plastic bag indefence.The car curved smoothly into the temple courtyard. It looked almost garish next to the dull sheen of the ageing temple's roof. The old woman got out of the back seat, and made her unhurried way to the main hall.Her daughter stepped out of the car in her business suit andstilettos and reapplied her lipstick as she made her brisk way to her mother's side.'Ma, I'll wait outside. I have an important phone call to make,' she said, not bothering to hide her disgust at the pungent fumes of incense.
The old lady hobbled into the temple hall and lit a joss stick, she knelt down solemnly and whispered her now familiar daily prayer to the Gods.Thank you God of the Sky, you have given my daughter luck all theseyears. Everything I prayed for, you have given her. She has everything ayoung woman in this world could possibly want. She has a big house with aswimming pool, a maid to help her, as she is too clumsy to sew or cook. Her love life has been blessed; she is engaged to a rich and handsome angmoh man.Her company is now the top financial firm and even men listen to what sh esays.. She lives the perfect life. You have given her everything except happiness. I ask that the gods be merciful to her even if she has lost her roots while reaping the harvest of success.What you see is not true, she is a filial daughter to me. She gives me a room in her big house and provides well for me. She is rude to me only because I affect her happiness.. A young woman does not want to be hindered by her old mother. It is my fault.The old lady prayed so hard that tears welled up in her eyes.Finally, with her head bowed in reverence she planted the half-burnt jossstick into an urn of smoldering ashes. She bowed once more.
The old woman had been praying for her daughter for thirty-two years. When her stomach was round like a melon, she came to the temple and prayed that it was a son.Then the time was ripe and the baby slipped out of her womb,bawling and adorable with fat thighs and pink cheeks, but unmistakably, a girl. Her husband had ticked and punched her for producing a useless babywho could not work or carry the family name.Still, the woman returned to the temple with her new-born girl tied to her waist in a sarong and prayed that her daughter would grow up and haveeverything she ever wanted.
Her husband left her and she prayed that her daughter would neverhave to depend on a man. She prayed every day that her daughter would be a great woman, the woman that she, meek and uneducated, could never become. A woman with nengkan; the ability to do anything she set her mind to. A woman who commanded respect in the hearts of men. When she opened her mouth tospeak, precious pearls would fall out and men would listen. She will not belike me, the woman prayed as she watched her daughter grow up and drift away from her, speaking a language she scarcely understood. She watched her daughter transform from a quiet girl to one whoopenly defied her, calling her laotu, old fashioned.... She wanted her mother to be 'modern', a word so new there was no Chinese word for it.
Now her daughter was too clever for her and the old woman wondered why she had prayed like that. The Gods had been faithful to her persistent prayer, but the wealth and success that poured forth so rich ly had buried the girl's roots and now she stood faceless with no identity, bound to the soil ofher ancestors by only a string of origami banknotes. Her daughter had forgotten her mother's value. Her wants were so ephemeral, that of a modern woman. Power, wealth, access to the best fashionboutiques and yet her daughter had not found true happiness. The old woman knew that you could find happiness with much less.When her daughter left the earth, everything she had would count fornothing. People would look to her legacy and say that she was a great womanbut she would be forgotten once the wind blows over, like the ashes of burntpaper convertibles and mansions.The old woman wished she could go back and erase all her big hopesand prayers for her daughter now that she had looked out of the temple gates.
She saw her daughter speaking on the phone, her brow furrowed with anger and worry. Being at the top is not good, the woman thoug ht, there is only oneway to go from there – down.The old woman carefully unfolded the plastic bag and spread out apacket of beehoon in front of the altar. Her daughter often mocked her forworshipping porcelain Gods. How could she pray to them so faithfully andexpect pieces of ceramic to fly to her aid? But her daughter had her own gods too, idols of wealth, success and power that she enslaved to andworshipped every day of her life.Every day was a quest for the idols, and the idols she worshipped counted for nothing in eternity. All the wants her daughter had would slowly suck the life out of her and leave her, an empty souless shell at the altar. The old woman watched the joss stick. The dull heat had left ateetering grey stem that was on the danger of collapsing.
Modern woman nowadays, the old lady signed in resignation, as she bowed to the east bone final time to end her ritual. Modern woman nowadayswant so much that t hey lose their souls and wonder whey they cannot find it. Her joss stick disintegrated into a soft grey powder. She met herdaughter outside the temple, the same look of worry and frustration was etchedon her daughter's face. An empty expression, as if she was ploughing through the soil ofher wants looking for the one thing that would sown the seeds of happiness. They climbed into the convertible in silence and her daughter drove along the highway, this time not to fast as she had done before.
‘Ma,’ Bee Choo finally said. "I don't know how to put this.Mark and I have been talking about it and we plan to move out of the big house. The property market is good now, and we managed to get a buyerwilling to pay us seven million for it. We decided we'd prefer a cosier penthouse apartment instead. We found a perfect one in Orchard Road . Oncewe move into our apartment, we plan to get rid of the maid, so we can havemore space to ourse lves...."The old woman nodded knowingly. Bee Choo swallowed hard. "We'd get someone to come in to do the housework and we can eat out – but once the maid is gone, there won't be anyone to look after you. You will be awfullylonely at home and, besides that the apartment is rather small. There won't be space. We thought about it for a long time, and we decided the best thing for you is if you moved to a Home. There's one near Hougang – it's a Christian home and a very nice one."
The old woman did not raise an eyebrow. I"ve been there, the matron is willing to take you in. It's beautiful with gardens and lots ofold people to keep you company! Hardly have time for you, you'd be happier there." "You'd be happier there, really." her daughter repeated as if to affirm herself.
This time the old woman had no plastic bag of food offering tocling tightly to, she bit her lip and fastened her seat belt, as if it would protect her from a daughter who did not want her anymore. She sunk deep into the leather seat, letting her shoulders sag and her fingers trace the white seat.Ma, her daughter asked, searching the rear view window for hermother. "Is everything okay?What had to be done, had to be done. "Yes" she said firmly,louder than she intended, 'if it will make you happy,' she added morequietly.‘It's for you, Ma! You will be happier there. You can move there tomorrow, I already got the maid to pack your things.' Elaine saidtriumphantly, mentally ticking yet another item off her agenda. 'I knew everything would be fine.'
Elaine smiled widely; she felt liberated. Perhaps getting rid of her mother would make her happier. She had thought about it. It seemed the only hindrance in her pursuit of happiness. She was happy now. She had everything a modern woman ever wanted; money, status, career, love, power and now freedom without her motherand her old-fashioned ways to weigh her down...... Yes she was free.
Her phone butted urgently, she picked it up andread the message, still beaming from ear to ear. "Stock 10% increase."
Yes, things were definitely beginning to look up for her and while searching for the meaning of life in the luminance of her hand phone screen,the old woman in the backseat became invisible and she did not see her in tears.
Tuesday, August 18, 2009
The Search-(1)
People are always searching.
Searching for a good job, searching for a better job.
Searching for a partner, searching for the right partner.
Searching for a purpose , searching for the happiness the purpose will bring.
你真的知道自己在找什么吗？
Humans are contradicting, conflicting, confusing and confounding. It is strange that we never show enough concern for those who truely care yet worry ourselves to death over those who doesn't give us a damn. It is weird that we never fully trust our loved ones yet claim to love them.
原来不知道自己要什么的是我。原来没信心的是我。原来不懂得珍惜的是我。原来要求太多的是我。原来想太多的是我。原来疲倦的是我。原来太傻的是我。原来寂寞的是我。原来不相信的是我。原来想哭的是我。原来不懂的是我。原来不快乐的是我。
而你到底是哪一个我？
Searching for a good job, searching for a better job.
Searching for a partner, searching for the right partner.
Searching for a purpose , searching for the happiness the purpose will bring.
你真的知道自己在找什么吗？
Humans are contradicting, conflicting, confusing and confounding. It is strange that we never show enough concern for those who truely care yet worry ourselves to death over those who doesn't give us a damn. It is weird that we never fully trust our loved ones yet claim to love them.
原来不知道自己要什么的是我。原来没信心的是我。原来不懂得珍惜的是我。原来要求太多的是我。原来想太多的是我。原来疲倦的是我。原来太傻的是我。原来寂寞的是我。原来不相信的是我。原来想哭的是我。原来不懂的是我。原来不快乐的是我。
而你到底是哪一个我？
Thursday, May 21, 2009
The Search
Would like to dedicate this blog to those who have actively participated in my discussions and encouraged me to pen down my views:D Once again, would like to welcome you to offer your opinions and views with response to the different topics of discussions. Thank you in advance. You have added depth and a different perspective to my secluded world. With that, I will like to beckon you to my first topic....
1)The Search
1)The Search
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