Wednesday, September 30, 2009

Saturated with myself

Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me.

Don't you ever get tired when it's all about you?

You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You......

Tuesday, September 29, 2009

Monday, September 28, 2009

Temptations?

So I tell God (ya, tell God, how theologically unsound is that, right????) that I'll fast til Friday and read chunks of the Epistles and maybe an epiphany will strike or land or descend in a storm cloud (Tyng keeps saying I shouldn't wait for an epiphany - cows would come home sooner). The next thing I know, I walk into an office filled with murukku (Indian snacks), pineapple tarts and Hershey's chocolate. My team has been busy and are happy to share, show, smell and taste the produce of their fun-filled weekend and here I am trying not to think about the Snickers bar in my drawer.

Waiting for an answer

Yes. No. Yes. No. Conditional Yes. No. Outright No. Maybe Yes. Yes. No. Yes. No. Maybe No. Yes. Yes! No. Yes. Noooooo..... Yes. No. Yes. No. Yes. No.

I'm torn between what my head says is the logical answer to give and what my heart wants. Unfortunately neither has much experience in deciding what's best for me.

Friday, September 25, 2009

Sucker punch

So I say, "I need Words of Affirmation and that's why I don't want to stay at my job."

"DO YOU REALLY NOW?" booms God.

The next thing I know, I get heaped with Words of Affirmation by the Chief. The tricky part is, the Chief previously gave me a lashing and serving too many of anti-Affirmation medication.

NOW what do I do?

Thursday, September 24, 2009

Love Bank

Jenny and I talked about the love bank today. It has 5 currencies:-

1) Acts of Service
2) Affirmation by Touch
3) Affirmation by Word
4) Gifts
5) Quality Time

Instinctively I know that Acts of Service go right over my head but thank you everyone who has ever given me a lift. If you do my dishes, please forgive me if I don't gaze adoringly at your 'Act of Service' but if you BUY me wellington boots *hint* I might name my first child after you (it's a joke, Pa!). Lack of Affirmation of Word is also one of the reasons why I have decided not to stay at my current job and I really, really, REALLY don't like it when anyone tells me "no" especially since I'm such a pessimist anyway and deciding anything is such a big step and I am in need of AFFIRMATION *hint!!*

Wednesday, September 23, 2009

Grapevine

Things seem to be swinging. We'll see if the vine holds as I try to Tarzan across the ravine. I must have resolve, be resolute, have steely determination and... oh look at that puppy! It's soooo cute!!!!! *Whack*

Saturday, September 19, 2009

Home frontiers

I think I miss home. *wrinkles nose*

The simplicity of it all. *wake up, eat duck rice*

But I'm not ready to go back. *home is where I'll go to when I think my eggs need a nest to hatch in hahahahahaha!*

God please send me a sign! *please send me Balaam's talking donkey to tell me what you want me to do*

I really want wellington boots to continue running in the rain. *but no one gets the hint that I actually want them! size 4 preferably with rainbow-coloured polka dots please*

Friday, September 18, 2009

Horse spirit

"We have almost forgotten how strange a thing it is that so huge and powerful and intelligent an animal as a horse should allow another, and far more feeble animal, to ride upon its back." Peter Gray (Calvary from Hoof to Track)

I know I'm nuts about horses but really, how can you NOT go nuts with up to a ton of sheer power beneath you? A ton! A force not merely passive and only grunts into action when you turn the key in the igntion but is headstrong, willful, defensive and has a heart for literally unbridled freedom. Never mind that the gorgeous bulk of muscle comes with a furry coat, wet lips and a deep chest I could cling to all day. I am mad about horses and for good reason; they represent a life and a lifetime I dream of, that I want, that I long for, that for the best in me I cannot explain except that when I look upon the horse, I know whatever it is I'm searching for is embodied in that creature.

There is a sign on my bedroom wall that simply reads "HUMILITY." I scribbled it on a piece of paper and stuck it up to remind myself to appreciate each day and no matter how awful things got, to always remember my place and that I have much in Jesus Christ that even if everything were taken from me, I would still have all I needed and all that really counted. Friends are fickle and families don't always know best but there are few secrets between a horse and its rider. What others miss in hyped-up talk, horses catch on in conflicting body language. When I used to have a bad day at college (or with another horse for that matter) Starshine would instantly pick up on it, becoming agitated and tetchy and our sync would be thrown off balance because I couldn't concentrate and she could tell something was wrong.

Humility has taken a different meaning in life lately. As I dream as much as I could ever dream, adapt more and resist less, I find myself looking back at the horses that I love. We take for granted that the horse should listen when we pull unkindly on their bit, that the bus should come on time, that the people standing in the train should give us breathing room. We complain when bad timing makes us late for events due to unforseen circumstances or when the rain suddenly pours, catching us unprepared without an umbrella. I've had many a day walking around like a deranged psychopath muttering to myself like some grumpy old woman. As politics in life and self-interest took its toll, I saw no reason being nice to people I don't like, no reason in making the effort to make new people feel welcomed and no reason to invest in anyone other than myself. I saw myself as a restless colt (or filly), angry at the world and at the people trying to saddle me at their own whims and fancies without asking me if it was what I wanted and I felt proud when I bit the hand that in my mind tried to herd me into the same category as other stereotypical farm animals.

And then for some reason unknown to me, I saw humans from my mount's point of view. We truly are feeble in the animal kingdom with no biological superiority over those on four legs or those with wings, with the possible exception of owning a cynical brain and a tendency to bear lifelong grudges. I look at myself through the eyes of Black Magic, the first Welsh Cob I managed to get on (although not stay on). There I was, an 18-year old ball of excitable (ignitable) energy; the over-concentrated perfectionist with the dreamy oxymoronic mind to boot, waiting to get on my horse. If I had been Black Magic, I would have rolled my eyes, stepped sideways and not let 'humpty dumpty' get on my back.

I wonder if animals know God's mandate that humans are to rule over the beasts of the air and the field better than humans know it themselves. How else will a ton of self-preservation, with great humility, allow a chortling child to rub peanut butter fingers over its muzzle or change footing at the slightest shift of command from a dressage rider? I wonder what my horse sees when she looks at me. I hope she likes what she sees but my heart is broken because I know that even if my flaws break out like mould on a piece of cheese that's been left out too long, I have her unconditional devotion as she plucks the mould out from my character and then gently bows her head and allows me the pleasure of scatching her behind the ears.

How much I have been given. How much I should give. How little it is that is asked from me to give up.

"A horse is the projection of peoples' dreams about themselves — strong, powerful, beautiful — and it has the capability of giving us escape from our mundane existence." Pam Brown (Australian poet)

Friday, September 11, 2009

Co-ordination

Green is the new Orange.

The weight of it all

Dream a little dream
Let it float awhile
But from deep within
The tides turn and beguile

Dream a little dream
Send it down the way
Unexpectedly
Dreams begin to sway

Dream a little dream
The possibilities
A change of heart in time
Dreams to drudgeries

Dream a little dream
It sometimes seem so real
But often times the obstacle
My own reflection still

Dream a little dream
Plant it in a pot
And should it grow, I know it will
Be my dream that I dreamt not

Monday, September 07, 2009

Stepping Out of the Boat

What would you do if you weren't afraid?

I did it.

It's worth it.

More than worth it.

Made for it.

Friday, September 04, 2009

The proof is in the pudding

I did a food experiment once and a very nice experiment it was. One Christmas in London, although I vaguely remember which, I went out with my knapsack and purchased every variety of hypermarket chocolate pudding. I limited my experiment to hypermarkets because not doing so would have opened the floodgates to chocolatitis. Included in my list of hypermarkets included Marks & Spencers and Harrods although Big H was really in to add some distinct 'old man with a pipe' class to an otherwise semi-chave gathering.

I don't even remember who won which probably means I have to rewrite a hypothesis and redo the experiment.

Actually what I really want to talk about is not about food. There was some Chinese festival 2 days ago which got me thinking. I don't know whether it was "Hungry Ghost Festival" or "Feed Your Ancestors Day (and while you're at it can you burn some paper money to send to us?)" and it really doesn't matter. I think I've established enough throughout this blog why I think feeding your ancestors really isn't worth tuppence but what I want to express here is what you feed your ancestors.

I saw plates of pitiful Jacob's Crackers, fruit and local rice muffins rolled on the floor next to the requisite bunch of bananas and joss sticks. Some more 'thoughtful' descendants put their tiny offerings on paper plates. Symbols are tangible signs, usually full of contextual meaning. I saw a little old lady walk out of a house so small it could be mistaken for a shed, dragging a huge bag of paper money to burn so that the malevolent deceased would be kept suitably appeased, occupied and distracted. A glimpse into her shed-home revealed the biggest shrine I've seen in relation to the house the shrine was kept in. It was red, glowing and testament to the utter and awful chainless bondage she was in. I felt quite helpless. I wonder if I could have the courage to go back to that little home and visit its inhabitant with a key to her shackles.

Because I am not considered culturally very Chinese, my lack of reverance of what I consider ungodly can just seen as a triumph of Western Intellect over Eastern Spirituality. I beg to differ. I don't believe that the essence of being Greek is worshipping Zeus. I don't think the essence of being American is having a super-sized meal everyday or even once a week for that matter. I don't think the essence of being Indian is being Hindu. I don't think the essence of being Chinese is lost in the rejection of ancestral veneration. The essence of humanity stems from Adam who in turn is made in the image of our Creator. To deny our Creator is to deny our essence, whatever race we may be born into or culture we may be bred with.

Do we have a plumb line by which we discern and say, "I know the standard by which you live"? For the dude Wai Peng, it's in the Caesar Salad by that well-known (used to be better) local franchise known as Delicious.

Tuesday, September 01, 2009

Zonked

I'm changing gears.
I'm not staying.
I'm breaking away.
Watch.