GREAT COMPANY WITH OPEN HEARTS

It's not everyday that you decide to join a group and almost immediately find a sense of belonging. I'm talking about the Irish Countrywomen’s Association, (ICA) the largest women’s organisation in Ireland, with over 15000 members. 

Founded in 1910, it seeks to provide social and educational opportunities for women and to improve the standard of rural and urban life in Ireland.

Among the many roles during its early days, it worked against rampant antifeminism , promoted good health and encouraged rural housewives to establish home industries and take an active role in public and intellectual life. The association also sought to develop an Irish artistic and crafts identity. Crafts and skills courses are still run at its centre An Grianan in Termonfeckin, County Louth.

When I went for the first ICA guild meeting at Castletroy, I didn’t know what to expect. I was amicably warned before hand that the members would be ladies from a different era altogether and that the association would not be relevant to someone like myself. After all, I wasn’t born in Ireland and surely Kuala Lumpur would not be regarded as ‘countryside’ either.

Well, the moment I stepped into the hall, there was this sense of welcome that broke boundaries. Everyone was like a friend that I hadn’t met before. There was a genuine interest to know a new person and to make sure that she wasn’t left out.

I remember trying to make sense of the neighbourhood when I first arrived in Ireland.

The Irish are know to be friendly. However, more often than not, the onus lies on the newcomer to persevere through ‘friendly groups’ till she finds a good friend in the group whom she can relate to. I can fully understand why people from other countries do not mingle with the locals. Adjustment to new surroundings is already a battle in itself and to have to make a huge effort just to get to know someone new can be rather daunting. Worse still if efforts are not reciprocated and after several tries, it is no wonder that they give up trying. 

So it was a breath of fresh air when I went for that first meeting

What struck me was the  generosity and genuine friendship that the ladies offer.

So far, I've seen more takers than givers . We learnt how to make table centre pieces and after I had completed mine, the other members gave me more candles and decorative birds, in case I wanted to do a second piece at home. When it came to drawing raffle tickets, a lady offered to give me her prize when she saw I had not won anything.

Could it be because we share the same ethics and good manners of yesteryear? Could it be the display of selflessness and consideration that seem to be so lacking in the present generation?

Could it be because I see humility among ladies who are more senior than I am when far too often I face arrogant younger people who think the world owes them a living?

Could it be that they actually mean what they say? When someone in the group randomly invites you to her house for tea, you know she means it. And when you reach her house, you see that she has made the apple pie (with dollops of cream by the side) specially for you.

There was a birthday tea party that we staged for one of our members at the GAA hall in Monaleen The best China graced the makeshift tables  that were neatly covered with linen tablecloths. The details that went into the planning showed the level of care and appreciation.

After the tea, a great number of ladies made their way to the kitchen, rolled up their sleeves, and did the washing up. They were mothers, grandmothers, homemakers and professionals. No one thought of herself as above the rest.Hi.

Organisations like the ICA are still relevant despite the lament that not many in the younger set are keen to join. It may not be what it was in the 1900s. It has evolved with the times and it can still be attractive to the current crowd.

There is always room for great company with open hearts. My only regret is that I should have discovered the association sooner.

Indeed I have found my place.

This article was originally printed in the New Straits Times Malaysia 15 May 2016

http://www.nst.com.my/news/2016/05/145665/great-company-open-hearts

REFLECTION IS A BEAUTIFUL THING

The act of reflecting is one of my favourite past times these days. The term "reflection" is derived from the Latin term reflectere -- meaning "to bend back." Reflecting is not a touchy – feely condition but serves more as the bridge between experiences and learning.

Reflecting about what I do with my life is one of them. I have found myself a routine that I am comfortable with and a set of friends who bring joy. I am continually developing the talents that I have and sharing them with others.

I was at a conference recently and one of the speakers asked ‘If money were not a problem, what would you like to do with your life?’

We were all supposed to come up with an answer in a minute. Some would like to stop working immediately and pursue their hobbies, buy a yacht, build a mansion or go on a world tour. In short, to live a life that is very different from the present. Such is what dreams are made of.

I thought about it. My answer was: I wouldn’t change a thing.

Then I went home and thought about it again.

Surprisingly, my answer was still the same. I wouldn’t change a thing.

Reflecting about what I do with my roles is also another area that I constantly explore. My private roles as a wife and mother take precedence over my public roles.

Being a mother generates the image of a very long journey – sometimes there are signposts, sometimes there are none. Florida Scott-Maxwell says, no matter how old a mother is, she watches her middle-aged children for signs of improvement.

In Ireland, Mother’s Day is celebrated on the fourth Sunday of Lent, so this year it was celebrated on March 6. But in Malaysia, next Sunday will be a significant day for all mothers.

I received a pocket book of anecdotes from my daughter, aptly entitled, ‘Keep Calm for Mums’ that I find most interesting.

Most mothers are well aware that there comes a time when your children don't think you are very smart anymore.

They may tease you about texting with one thumb or get impatient when they have to explain to you how to download music into your iPod. (again). They roll their eyes when you do not say things that are politically correct or feel mortified when you enjoy sharks fin soup while the rest of the world campaigns for animal rights. They are surprised when you actually know who Kafka is or even had a combo microwave oven once. The type that could bake cakes with a nice brown top.

They think you are myopic in matters of the heart and exclusive relationships. They think you are old-fashion and your values are archaic. In fact you could very well be the dinosaurs that didn’t quite make it into Noah’s Ark. Indeed Peter De Vries, the American novelist knew exactly what it was like when he said that ‘there are times when parenthood seems nothing but feeding the mouth that bites you.’

Actually, that is nothing new under the sun. There was once when I felt that I knew more than my mother and was irritated when her perception of life did not quite match the philosophical thoughts that I had acquired at university. But now upon looking back, just like how Abraham Lincoln felt, all that I am or ever hope to be, I owe to my angel mother.

Recently, my son who is an avid photographer sent me 2 pictures of Irish monuments that he had shot but forgotten what they were. I told him that they are Glenstal Abbey in County Limerick and Waiting on Shore Monument at Rosses Point, County Sligo. Then he sent me 3 photos of flowers and asked me for their names. (Apparently, mothers are supposed to know everything, including monuments and flowers.) As I have either planted them or seen them in my walks, I told him that they are the red lizard tulip, the azalea aikoku and the peony rose. I also double checked with the internet just to make sure that I had identified them correctly.

His response took me by surprise.

‘Mum, you are so smart’, he texted back.

Reflection is a beautiful thing

 This article was originally printed in the NEW STRAITS TIMES MALAYSIA http://digital.nstp.com.my/nst/books/160501nstnews/index.html#/23/

DON'T WORRY, IT WON'T HAPPEN

On September 16, 1909, W.B. Yeats wrote in his journal, ‘When I think of all the books I have read, wise words heard, anxieties given to parents, ... of hopes I have had, all life weighed in the balance of my own life seems to me a preparation for something that never happens.’

That singular journal entry has been quoted many times over and nothing much has changed and we are left in a quandary. Well, in most cases things do happen as expected but then again you have the occasional instance where you spend a lot of time worrying about something that never materialises in the end. Worse still if you have spent much money preparing for it.

I had the opportunity to visit the Hospital in the Rock in Budapest and this is one classic example of human wisdom or folly depending on how you wish to see it.

This is a hospital created in the caverns under the Buda Castle in the 1930s, in anticipation of the Second World War. It is part of an approximately 10 km stretch of interconnected caves and cellars.

The hospital was used during the 1944- 45 siege of Budapest. Many of the wounded were treated here and the dead were carried out at night and buried in bomb craters. The next instance where the hospital was used once more, was in 1956 in response to the uprising against Soviet rule.

                    

However, it was also built as a top secret military hospital and nuclear bunker. Between 1958 and 1962, it was expanded to withstand nuclear fallout during the Cold War.

As a nuclear bunker, it must  cope with the under pressure that lasts for several seconds after the shock waves, and block radiation. The bunker must also accommodate equipment for air conditioning and heating, water supply and storage, generators, and also many types of radio and telecommunications equipment.

Imagine the amount of money spent on the project and the number of man hours involved in planning and building it? It was never used for this purpose.

Experts agree that  85% of what we worry about never happens. But then again, common sense tells us it is better safe than sorry. We do not want to be caught unprepared and neither do we want to be left looking foolish.

Another more recent phenomenon occurred around the time when we entered the new millennium. There was a lot of fear then that there would be major life changes with the interruption of essential supplies.

They called it the Y2K. We were afraid to lose everything as the clock struck midnight entering day one of the new millennium. We were afraid that computers would shut down and all forms of energy supply would be disrupted.

So we were all encouraged to buy ‘survival kits’ that comprised of cream crackers, instant noodles, water purifier tablets, toiletries and a whole host of other things. Some families bought boxes of such kits as they braced themselves for the worst. These

were usually families with young children and I knew of one family that bought 400 boxes. I didn’t buy any and just waited to see the outcome. I wasn’t particularly fond of cream crackers and instant noodles anyway.

Well, nothing that was feared happened, further proving that hindsight is 20/20 vision.

The crackers and noodles had a shelf life and thus were donated to orphanages. I suspect many just dumped the water purifier tablets.

A random search about the future on the web will result in bad news and more bad news. From monetary market collapse to WW3. Strategies to counter the effects of hard times range from ensuring that one’s financial affairs are in order to developing a survivalist mindset.

The question is how far should we plan for the unknown or the unexpected?

Indeed, we need the wisdom of Solomon to answer this.

This article was originally printed in the NEW STRAITS TIMES MALAYSIA http://digital.nstp.com.my/nst/books/160417nstnews/index.html#/23/

PADLOCKS AND KEYS AND UNBREAKABLE BONDS

I never knew that padlocks and disappearing keys would tickle my fancy until four recent experiences that involved these necessary and yet mystical items.

Love locks are a symbol of commitment. Apparently, this custom originated in China where lovers put locks on bridges, fences,  gates or similar  public fixtures to symbolise unbreakable love. Others say it originated from Serbia. Some authorities see this as a public nuisance to the preservation of architectural heritage while others welcome it as a boost to tourism.

In Seoul, there is this place around the N Seoul tower where lovers write their names on padlocks and then throw the keys away. N Seoul Tower is a popular place for couples who go there to profess their undying love for each other and to lock their "padlock of love" onto the railing , hoping that their love will last forever. Across the world, there are about 40 attractions decorated with "padlocks of love." N Seoul Tower is just one of them. 

I was tempted to buy one, but the plastic looking locks looked cheap. Perhaps next time we would bring our own, solid looking, vintage lock that  would reflect our senior years better.

In Budapest, there is a Central Café which was a legend between 1887 and 1949.

When it was reopened in January 2000, the Mayor , the Minister for Culture and the President were present. 

As guests started to leave, there were some who went along with the proprietor to witness a hallowed tradition of throwing the key into the Danube, signifying that this coffee house would never close.

I think that is simply beautiful.

When I went there last month, I thought the  tiramisu was something to die for. The latte macchiato didn’t fail either. The lighting evoked an old time atmosphere. I’m glad they threw away the key, or I would never have got to taste that bit of heaven on earth.

In the musical Joseph and the Amazing Technicolour Coat, when Joseph’s brothers went to Egypt to purchase grain because of the famine, Joseph falsely accused his brother Benjamin of stealing a royal cup. 

He says, ‘Benjamin, you nasty youth! Your crime has shocked me to the core ! Never in my whole career have I encountered this before. Guards, seize him! Lock him in a cell Throw the keys into the Nile as well…’

There’s something absolute about throwing the keys into the Nile. It’s akin to hammering the last nail into the coffin. Benjamin would be locked in the cell for all eternity.

Finally, in ‘The Song of the Sea’, an Irish animated fantasy film about a light house keeper and selkies. Selkies are mythical creatures in Irish folklore. Selkies are said to live as seals in the sea but shed their skin to become human on land.  There is a scene in the story where the lighthouse keeper was afraid of losing his little girl who was born to a selkie mother. So he put the white seal skin coat (that would make the child return to the sea forever) into a trunk and padlocked it.  Then he threw the key into the sea. 

there’s something very powerful in this act.

Locks and keys represent knowledge, mystery, initiation and curiosity.

What are the secrets in our locked chests or behind our locked doors? What are some of the painful and unpleasant memories or experiences that we have kept locked away?

Maybe it is time to find the key to unlock the stuff that we have kept hidden for so long. There is nothing to be ashamed of past mistakes. We do not need to carry that guilt with us to the grave.

Maybe it is time to release the greatness and potential that we have suppressed for so long.  

Find the key and be set free.

 This article was originally printed in the NEW STRAITS TIMES MALAYSIA 29 May 2016

LESSONS FROM IRELAND'S 1916 EASTER REBELLION

Exactly 100 years ago the streets of Dublin and skirmishes in counties Meath, Louth, Galway and Wexford saw  much turmoil and bloodshed during an armed insurrection, mounted by Irish republicans to end British rule in Ireland and establish an independent Irish Republic.

Every year at Easter, this event is remembered. All the more at Easter 2016 – the year which marked the centenary of the defining moments of the struggle for independence.

There was a military parade, including an Aer Corps flypast and a 21-gun salute. There were  synchronised wreath-laying ceremonies at strategic points around Dublin, starting with Dublin Castle. In addition, there was a ceremony for all those who have died during the events of 1916 in the Garden of Remembrance. There was also a state event for the relatives of those who took part in the Rising and the official opening of the Easter Rising Centenary Visitor Facility at the General Post Office (GPO) – an iconic building that served as the rebel headquarters during the Rising.

Internationally, centenary events also took place in 100 countries, including one at the John F Kennedy Center for the Performing Arts, in Washington, DC, and one in Nigeria based on Roger Casement’s development-aid work.

I am not a historian but because of a natural interest in the affairs of the land, I have been collecting reprints of first hand accounts of the 1916 Easter Rising. These took the form of memorabilia or newspapers from Northern Ireland, the Republic of Ireland and the United States.

It was interesting to note that the very same event was interpreted differently by the different publishing houses. Their perspectives were very much coloured by where their sympathies lay.

The Easter Rising of 1916 is now widely regarded with pride. Patrick Henry Pearse was seen as the embodiment of the rebellion, and he was executed alongside 15 other leaders.

Those who were executed were venerated by many as martyrs; their graves in Dublin's former military prison of Arbour Hill became a national monument and the Proclamation text was taught in schools. 

This insurrection also provided fodder for great literary works, some of which are  O’Connell Street" and "Lament for the Poets of 1916" by Francis Ledwidge, ‘The Plough and the Stars’, a play by Sean O’Casey, and ‘Insurrection’ by Liam O’Flaherty.

Although the flame of Irish nationalism had begun to burn, some questions remain:

Was it justified as fighting for freedom or a futile battle? Who were the heroes and who were the villains? Could the 1250 insurgents in Dublin fight the 16000 troops and 1000 armed police in Dublin? Did the countless civilians have to die for an insurrection that they were not part of? Was it idealism at its best or a gross act of miscalculation?

Looking back, it feels surreal that people, male and female, from all walks of life would give up their lives for the greater good.

I wonder in this 21^st century how many of us will actually do that. And even if the young people had wanted to involve themselves in the fight for liberty, equality and fraternity, would their parents have allowed them? Or would they say – get your degree, get a job and put these idealistic notions out of your head!

I wonder too whether present day netizens would subscribe to a larger cause, rather than spend copious amounts of time taking selfies and checking feeds on facebook.

I wonder too, how those who fought in 1916 would judge us and our society today.

 This article was originally printed in the NEW STRAITS TIMES MALAYSIA 3 APRIL 2016        http://digital.nstp.com.my/nst/books/160403nstnews/index.html#/23/

LESS IS MORE

‘There are two ways to get enough: One is to continue to accumulate more and more. The other is to desire less.’ – C.K. Chesterton, an English writer amidst many other vocations.

Somewhere between birth and death we are sucked into a zone called ‘More’. From needs we progress to wants and then suddenly without realising it, these wants become ‘must-haves’. And so we have more, need more and want more.

It was no shocker when I heard an advertisement on buying new tiles being aired recently. According to the sales man, the sole reason to get new tiles was to impress the neighbours!

Some of us have refrigerators that are bursting at its seams with new food, old food, good food, bad food and not surprisingly mouldy food that has escaped our attention in our eagerness to add more stuff into the fridge.

We buy bigger cars and bigger houses and bigger ‘everything’ as we get on in life and we have very good reasons why we do so and justify our purchases.

Suddenly, we are more senior in age and sanity bids us to downsize.

Just like human bodies shrink with age, we start to downsize the house because it has become a hazzle to mow that big lawn where we used to have birthday parties. We trade in the grand looking car for a smaller version so we can nip around easily in the city.

But the question is where do we start?

Enter the revolutionary KonMari Method for simplifying, organizing, and storing as spelt out step by step in ‘ The Life Changing Method of Tidying Up’ by Marie Kondo.

The New York Times  calls  this book entitled the greatest thing since sliced sushi.

The idea behind downsizing and minimalist living is living  very intentionally and allowing your surroundings and possessions to become an expression of yourself. 

Many of us have that jar of loose buttons or writing paper that we have carefully kept away on the shelf. In fact, they have been sitting on the shelf for quite a long time. Let’s face it – when do we actually need a spare button or hand write letters anymore? Even so, when one of our coat buttons falls off, we might not find an exact replica in the said jar.

To quote Marie Kondo, “the best way to choose what to keep and what to throw away is to take each item in one’s hand and ask: “Does this spark joy?” If it does, keep it. If not, dispose of it. This is not only the simplest but also the most accurate yardstick by which to judge.”

The end result?

When we own less stuff, it frees up the space around us. By clearing the clutter, we can enjoy the magic of a tidy home and calmness of the soul. If that is not real freedom, I don’t know what is.

When we focus on less jobs, it frees up the time that we have so we can pursue our passions and make real relationships. I heard of an elderly lady who suffered broken ribs because of an accident. After she was discharged from the hospital, a good rest would be most vital to speed her on the road to recovery. But alas, her healing was slow, because she was so used to doing almost everything in the house by herself despite having adult children who were  well able to help her out.

Minimalists like Joshua Fields Millburn and Ryan Nicodemus, point out the personal anchors like debt and clutter that weigh us down and prevent us from moving forward. We need to hoist those anchors up if we want to sail.

I must now begin purging the cupboards and store room. Pronto.

This article was originally printed in the NEW STRAITS TIMES MALAYSIA 20 MARCH 2016
http://digital.nstp.com.my/nst/books/160320nstnews/index.html#/23/

PLASTIC BEAUTY JUST DOESN'T CUT IT

When I brought a scarf to the counter the other day, I thought the salesgirl wore a beautiful shade of lipstick. So I paid her a compliment and said the colour on her lips looked lovely. Her response took me by surprise because she obviously had selective hearing skills. She smiled and said,

‘I’m glad you like the lips, I had them filled recently.’

I was both shocked and puzzled. I made a mental estimate of her age – probably 18 years old or younger. Surely, this is the prime of her life?

According to a local paper, the most popular non-surgical procedures among the 20 – 30-year-olds in Ireland are lip enhancements, fillers and botox.

Could an obsession with appearance result in body dysmorphic disorder?

I hear of accounts where the woman sneaks away to get certain parts of her body ‘fixed’ without telling the nearest and closest. Enshrouded in mystery, she exposes herself to certain risks. Apparently, women in Paris were having ‘lunchtime facelifts’ in the 1920s, even before botox came into the scene.

I wonder what makes a person go under the knife for cosmetic reasons alone? Could it be a boost to their self esteem? Could it be the idea that if they started cosmetic surgery at a younger age, the results would not be too drastic compared to when they go for a nip and a tuck when they are well over 50?

I remember laughing it off when my friend, who is also a plastic surgeon, persistently suggested that he could do wonders with my nose. My motto is if it is not broken, then don’t fix it. Besides, I have a very low threshold of pain and a high level of expectation. Imagine waking up from the operation to discover a very strange looking  nose. The idiom ‘cutting off the nose to spite the face’ would carry a new level of meaning altogether.

Sometimes a once-off experimentation with cosmetic surgery could also become an obsession.

We just need to look around and see how artistes and film stars succumb to numerous types of plastic surgery with some unfortunately ending up with a freeze frame face (a.k.a. ‘bat face’) and Ronald McDonald’s eyebrows.

In ‘The Love Song of Alfred J. Prufrock’ by T.S. Elliot, the poet delves into regret, frustration and an awareness of mortality as he observes how age has caused ‘a bald spot in the middle of his (my) hair’. No one likes to grow old or look old. Growing old seems to be synonymous with aching bones and popping pills. Looking old seems to make you feel ugly.

But then again what is beauty and what is age?

It is difficult for the aging person to tell herself that she is beautiful because the media tells her otherwise. The perception of beauty and age is also very much influenced by societal mores and culture. Some will never reveal their age while others remain at 40, year after year.  We gasp at the first strand of grey hair and the onset of wrinkles. It is like going to bed and feeling like you are 21, and then waking up to discover that you are 60. Where did the years go?

Towards the end of her life, Audrey Hepburn was asked about her beauty secrets. She replied most graciously, ‘

‘For lovely eyes, seek out the good in people. For a slim figure, share your food with the hungry. For beautiful hair, let a child run his or her fingers through it once a day. People, even more than things, have to be restored, renewed, revived, reclaimed and redeemed. Never throw out anybody. The beauty of a woman is not in a facial mole. True beauty in a woman is reflected in her soul. It is the caring that she lovingly gives, the passion that she shows, and the beauty of a woman with passing years only grows.’

Beautifully said.

This article was originally printed in the NEW STRAITS TIMES MALAYSIA 6 MARCH 2016 http://www.nst.com.my/news/2016/03/131264/plastic-beauty-just-doesnt-cut-it