the last moments of twenty-three

with one more month to my next birthday, i can't be more reluctant to part with what i believed would be the prime year of my life.

23 was the year i received the best intangible birthday surprise. it was the year i plucked up the courage to fulfill my dream of backpacking alone. it was the year i took my first step in the social work profession. it was the year i picked up a new hobby. it was the year i decided to be honest to myself over others.

to make sure my 24th year begins on a happy note, i decided to be shameless and do myself a favour by making a wishlist. this wishlist may ease the anxiety of those who desire to offer a piece of their friendship in the form of a tangible gift. but it is more likely to set them on a panic because of potentially high costs. any adverse effect is unintended and unnecessary, because some items will always remain on the wishlist - just like how environment conservation would always remain on the agenda of Greenpeace.

i know i once said - when i give you a present, i hope you would have something to remember me. if i want you to give me a present, i'm hoping to have something i can remember you by. this has ceased to be true! if i want to remember somebody, i'll go for photographs instead now. so please rest assured that this is not an attempt to extort something out of your pocket.

i spent two paragraphs explaining why i am doing this. but in a nutshell, i am merely doing the wishlist for fun.

so without further ado, i present to you my material desires for the year ahead:

• a new netbook/ laptop (because my faithful fujitsu seem to be in its terminal stage already)
• an open return air ticket to Taiwan or Japan
• a plain/ stripe Kate Spade handbag (i am also a fan of Lacoste or Agnès B's totes)
  
• a sponsorship for driving course
• a nikon dslr camera
  
• a liposuction surgery for my super unsatisfactory thighs

all of them are too exorbitant? that's the point. i believe in earning things through my own hard work, rather than through the hands of others.

besides, i believe none of us measure our relationships by the value of the gift we received on our birthday. instead, we measure by how comfortable we feel around the person, the quality of time spent together throughout the year, the number of moments when we connected with the person, the number of times we laugh heartily together with the person, the warmth of the person's hand or hug when we are down, the amount of understanding and forgiveness we received from the person. and the list goes on.

there is really nothing that i must have, or i need now. but if you are still unconvinced, and if you must get me something, i would greatly appreciate if it's something i can use, wear, or keep for rainy days.

keeping the faith

Last month, my brother asked me over dinner, “How can you believe that there is a God, when there is so much suffering around the world?”

Although I have heard this question too many times, I was stunned by the timing of the question. Happily anticipating the start of a wedding dinner, I was unprepared to discuss a topic of that weight. Neither was i equipped with the knowledge for a convincing rebuttal.

So when I managed to put my brains together, I gave a pathetic reply: “I believe because I want to”. Well, after all, there are too many questions in life that are unanswerable. After all, faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen. And after all, I want to believe, because I want to have something to hope for.

Today, the question floated back into my mind while I was browsing online for the latest updates on the Haitian earthquake. I stumbled upon the following commentary from the New York Times:

For most of the past 20 hours I’ve been hiking the earthquake-rubbled streets of Port-au-Prince. Tuesday night, when we had less idea of the scope of the devastation, there was singing all over town: songs with lyrics like “O Lord, keep me close to you” and “Forgive me, Jesus.” Preachers stood atop boxes and gave impromptu sermons, reassuring their listeners in the dark: “It seems like the Good Lord is hiding, but he’s here. He’s always here.”

The day after, as the sun exposed bodies strewn everywhere, and every fourth building seemed to have fallen, Haitians were still praying in the streets. But mostly they were weeping, trying to find friends and family, searching in vain for relief and walking around in shock.

If God exists, he’s really got it in for Haiti. Haitians think so, too. Zed, a housekeeper in my apartment complex, said God was angry at sinners around the world, but especially in Haiti. Zed said the quake had fortified her faith, and that she understood it as divine retribution.

This earthquake will make the devastating storms of 2008 look like child’s play. Entire neighborhoods have vanished. The night of the earthquake, my boyfriend, who works for the American Red Cross, and I tended to hundreds of Haitians who lived in shoddily built hillside slums. The injuries we saw were too grave for the few bottles of antiseptic, gauze and waterproof tape we had: skulls shattered, bones and tendons protruding from skin, chunks of bodies missing. Some will die in the coming days, but for the most part they are the lucky ones.

No one knows where to go with their injured and dead, or where to find food and water. Relief is nowhere in sight. The hospitals that are still standing are turning away the injured. The headquarters of the United Nations peacekeeping force, which has provided the entirety of the country’s logistical support, has collapsed. Cell and satellite phones don’t work. Cars can’t get through many streets, which are blocked by fallen houses. Policemen seem to have made themselves scarce.

“If this were a serious country, there would be relief workers here, finding the children buried underneath that house,” my friend Florence told me. Florence is a paraplegic who often sits outside her house in the Bois Verna neighborhood. The house next to hers had collapsed, and Florence said that for a time she heard the children inside crying.

Why, then, turn to a God who seems to be absent at best and vindictive at worst? Haitians don’t have other options. The country has a long legacy of repression and exploitation; international peacekeepers come and go; the earth no longer provides food; jobs almost don’t exist. Perhaps a God who hides is better than nothing.

After reading the article, I didn’t know whether to direct my frustration at the author, or at God.

While I was uncomfortable with the closing sentence, I also found it hard to explain the aftermath of the calamity. Every time a massive disaster strikes, I cannot help but question my faith. I do not have an issue with disasters happening, but I cannot reconcile the possibility that God allows such unfairness to happen.

All of us know that life is never fair. Some of us are born with a silver spoon, while some of us are born with nothing but rags. Some of us are born brilliant and intelligent, while some of us are not given the mental capacity to brush our teeth or change our clothes. Some of us are born with extraordinary athletic abilities and agility, while some of us are born with missing limps. Some of us have a knack to communicate and work with people, while some of us are socially handicapped because of autism. Some of us are born in countries that are affluent, safe, and politically stable, while most of us live in countries plagued by poverty, famine, strife, and disasters.

Very few of us know why life is never fair. If God exists, does He witness such unfairness? Does He delibrately create the inequality? How does He decide who should suffer and who should live like a prince? How did He decide that the Haitians shall be the victims of a staggering earthquake? Or is it a completely random selection, like how we draw lots to decide the winning numbers of a lottery?

I am not expecting any replies, because I feel that every answer will merely be a hypothesis or a personal truth that cannot be proven. Besides, the common saying that suffering happens for a reason would be too cliché, because a calamity of this magnitude can never be justifiable as a divine intervention. Everyone is punished, believers or not.

Whatever it is, my heart goes out to all the people who are fighting against the odds to save lives and to save themselves. and wherever God is, I hope He hears the prayers of those who are struggling to stay alive, I hope He hears the pleas of those who are struggling to find their loved ones, and I hope He hears the cries of those who are struggling to keep their faith.

it's not because of you!

as some of you already know, i have been down with a persistent cough recently, robbing me of my voice and my beauty sleep at night.

the illness started last friday and progressively deteriorated from a mild sporadic cough to rapid successive coughs that can involuntarily drive me to tears. today, i even choked on air because i couldn't inhale in time before my next coughing fit set in. ahh, and to make things worse, coughs are especially embarrassing on buses and trains. people stare at you (even though you could be wearing a mask or using a tissue to cover your mouth) and they avoid you like plague.

but anyways, ever since my condition became more obvious and publicised (i shouldn't have broadcasted it through my facebook status), i have had numerous people coming up to me to claim responsibility. A said that she passed to me. B said he passed to me. C said she passed to me. everybody is saying that they passed the virus to me! and some of them even sounded adamant about it despite my protests.

so i have been very amused and yet puzzled by this... influx of similar responses. why am i sick because of somebody else? why can't my cough be a progression of my flu from christmas? or a result of my body's detoxification after my recent change in lifestyle? or my insufficient intake of water that causes some heatiness in my body?

with the surge of people coming forth to tell me that they are the source of my cough, i feel that my internal locus of control has been shrank to the size of a pea. it makes me wonder why people have been responding in that way - is it because they think that i might feel better if i blame them for it? or is it because they feel guilty? or is it simply because they have an inflated sense of responsibility over others?

i don't mean to offend anyone, and i do appreciate the amount of concern that many people have showered upon me. i just think that most of us are so inclined to commit the common mistake in empirical research - establishing a causality when there is none. if event A, and event B happens subsequently, it just illustrates a correlation, not a casual relationship. so for example, if i fall sick, and then you fall sick, it could mean

1. casuality: i caused you to fall sick (or vice versa because the direction of influence cannot be determined without a solid experimental design)
   
2. the presence of other mediating factors: the bad weather is the cause of us falling sick, or a third party is the one who is spreading to you and me
   
3. conincidence: we just happen to fall sick after one another
   

if there are so many possibilities, how can we be so sure of one?

i hope i didn't bore you with the example and some technical jargon. but if there is one message i hope you would take home, it would be that correlation does not imply casuality. so don't jump to conclusions, and don't feel over-responsible for the plight of everyone around you.

from miscalculation to best decision!

just two nights ago, i was lamenting over my poor (or lack of) ability to say no.

because i find it terribly hard to reject certain people under certain circumstances, i made myself a victim of a smooth talker and unintentional peer pressure - together with my friend, we committed ourselves to 12 months of yoga classes and expensive indulgence.

given my tight financial situation, i went home brooding over my miscalculated move and losing some sleep over it. but 12 hours later, i woke up.

as in i really woke up from my sloth, my ill discipline, and my downward spiral. i started missing those days when i had everything under control - my weight, my grades, my diet, my tight schedule, my finances, and my social life. then i realised the solution is not to be a mannequin and let circumstances take over me. instead, i should be in control of my circumstances.

and i began to think that the package is probably the best decision i've made in a long time. what i needed to do was simply to start introducing some discipline into my life again. some workout, some diet, some routine, some activities to keep me occupied, some excitement to keep my heart palpitating, some anesthesia to numb my mind for the next one year.

so in a nutshell, i have bounced back! and the best way to conclude a happy entry, is to post a happy song:

obligations are the worst expectations

when you pit against morality and your own conscience, you will give in as long as you are still sane and logical.

obligations are terrible. they dictate you like a puppet master, they tie you down to your family, your employer, your teachers, your school principal, your relatives, your friends, and even yourself.

last night, i asked if i could put a stop to all these. the reply was no, the show must go on.

so i went to bed as i should. and this morning, i woke up as a mannequin.

this mannequin is terrific. she helps me brush my teeth, wash my hair, change my clothes. she helps me to reply messages, return calls and attend meetings. she wears a smile bigger than i do, laugh louder than i can, and grin wider than my mouth can stretch. she is automatic, she does not require batteries. all i need to do is to switch her on, put her on auto-pilot, and she will run the show for me. she will help me to meet my expectations and fulfill my obligations. she helps me to stay in touch with reality. she helps me to walk the path i have no desire to walk. she helps me to live my life.

maybe this is it. this is the answer. this is the answer, the solution i have been looking for.

always the years, always the love, always the hours.

spent my day watching some of my favourite movies.

here is my favourite scene from the hours, a highly compelling and emotionally-charged performance by nicole kidman and stephan dillane as virginia and leonard woolf:



i wish, for your sake, i can be happy in this quietness.