PREPARING MY JOURNEY TO THE OTHER WORLD

We had just a few good days of summer when the sun blazed and nearly everyone

was out of the house, taking advantage of the good weather. My garden was clothed in 

splendour not unlike desert vegetation once the rain falls.

Now Autumn has descended on us with its mellow fruitfulness to quote Keats. Where

did summer go? Leaves turn red and brown and birds start their migration. Coats make

 their reappearance and sun dresses go back into the recesses of the wardrobe. 

Before we know it, Winter has arrived.

I have just got a form from the church where I can plan what would be done the 

day I am on the runway to the other world. Sounds morbid but I thought that it 

is a brilliant idea - one can never be too ready for anything. As a child I was taught

never to mention the word death as it would bring bad luck. Yet, death is part of living 

and the sooner we are comfortable with it, the better prepared we are.

My favourite question on the form is: what song would you like sung at your funeral?

That’s easy. 

I think ‘Turn!Turn!Turn!’ by the Byrds would be absolutely brilliant. The music is 

catchy and the words are so appropriate…..

To everything - turn, turn, turn
There is a season - turn, turn, turn, And a time to every purpose under heaven
A time to be born, a time to die…A time to plant, a time to reap
A time to kill, a time to heal…a time to laugh, a time to weep……..

The funny thing is that there are no long periods of equilibrium. Just when you are

rejoicing over some happy event, another challenging situation rears its head. Yes, 

there is a season for everything and we change along the way. 

I was in the company of some friends who seemed to have everything.

Subconsciously we make comparisons as to why we are given a certain lot in life and 

why others seem to have it easy. So I took some time to digest the matter and came

away understanding myself better.

I like the phrase ‘Note to self’ - particularly note to my younger self. In retrospect, there 

are many things that I wished I had done or not done before. There are many worries 

that I need not have shouldered. There are many expectations that I need not have

 harboured. 

I was watching the finals of The Child Genius Competition 2016 over Channel 4 

( a British public-service television broadcaster) where children compete for the coveted 

trophy. I cringed when I saw how the mother of the champion,(who has put her career on hold as an obstetrician to focus on her daughter's education), 

fought to get the extra point for her child, even though she was probably in the right.

The Mail Online had headlines that went: Share

'Well done - you swindled your daughter to the final': Rhea's 'pushy mum' is

criticised after she got another child kicked off before daughter, 10, was

crowned winner of C4's Child Genius’

I share the same feelings as the many who took to berating the mum online such as 

‘It is a game. She is only ten years old. This is not going to define her life’.

But then again, if I had been her age with my ten year old up there on the podium 

battling for the coveted trophy, would I have acted the same?

People say that with age we grow wiser. But I think it is more of experiences that 

make us wiser and better people.

As I scroll down the most curious aforesaid form, there is this question on what

choice of a box I would like to be in - gold gilded, cedar wood or cushioned 

with taffeta silk?

My memories of Dracula movies tell me to avoid a certain shape altogether. 

And I think of trees being lumbered indiscriminately, so nothing wooden for me either. 

Since I love basketry, willow sounds like a good idea. 

This article was originally printed in the new Straits Times 2 October 2016. http://digital.nstp.com.my/nst/books/161002nstnews/index.html#/23/

NO WINNERS IN PLAYING THE BLAME GAME

I was having my favourite cuppa in a delightful little cafe, alfresco, on a beautiful 

sunny day. 

A rare thing indeed to feel the heat, and it would be a great crime if such fine weather

is not experienced in its fullest, outdoors.

Some people read while having the cuppa. Others fiddle with their phones or whatever 

gadgets they have.

I prefer to watch and learn.

Across the table sat a young mother and a restless child running here and there except 

sitting at the table where he should be.

She was coaxing him to have his orange juice and the fine breakfast on the table. 

She was piling on him a shower of terms of endearment - honey, my little man, 
darling, sweetie....Every possible term except a cross word.

With all the ditsy fleeting from table to table, the inevitable happened. He banged

headfirst into  a table corner.

All pandemonium broke lose. He bawled his eyes out and the mother swooped over him

like an eagle and tried to kiss away his tears.

Then she took him by the hand and led him to the offensive table. Vehemently, she

started beating the table and said, 'bad table, bad table' as if her golden child 

could do no wrong.  Immediately the boy was satisfied and the tears stopped. 

Completely bemused, I did not know whether to laugh or cry.

There were many laughable things I had done as a young mother once but blame 

shifting was definitely not one of them.

What was she teaching her child?

That it was alright to be careless? That unruly behaviour was acceptable in public? 

Or did she just want a quick fix to maintain order and quiet?

It is strange but when we are caught doing something unacceptable, we blame 

someone else, never ourselves.

Wasn't it Adam who blamed Eve for sharing with him the forbidden fruit?

When people in office resign when a misdeed has been exposed, there is a certain

level of accountability there.

Bob Marley said, emancipate ourselves from mental slavery. No one but ourselves

 can free our minds.

Learning to accept consequences is a great step towards freeing our minds. Being

accountable for what we do helps shape intentions and execution of plans.

I  used to watch Sesame Street with my children. There is this clip whereby a little

girl contemplates popping a balloon with a pin near her baby brother who is sleeping.

Then she rationalises that the noise would wake her brother up and his fit of crying would make her mum angry with her. Then she would be sent to bed and she would

miss eating the cookies in the oven.

She then puts the balloon down and says ' who wants to pop this nice balloon 

anyway'.

People are generally careless and inconsiderate. To find someone who is mindful 

and kind is such a rarity.

This is not to be confused with the concept of mindfulness which has become a present 

day buzzword, and if you are not focussing on your inhaling and exhaling, then you are 

certainly missing out on the greatest discovery on earth.

So, if children are not taught from young to be accountable for their deeds, it is not 

surprising that we are constantly surrounded by adults who bask in their own glory and 

blame others when things go belly up.

It is a sad generation that thinks they can do no wrong and that the world owes them a

living.

THIS ARTICLE WAS ORIGINALLY PRINTED IN THE NEW STRAITS TIMES
MALAYSIA, 4 SEPTEMBER 2016
http://www.nst.com.my/news/2016/09/170619/no-winners-playing-blame-game

A CHAIR BY ANY OTHER NAME WOULD MAKE A GREAT SEAT

I've never tried my hand at carpentry so I took a brave step in getting away to 

Slieve Aughty Centre, an ecofriendly resort for a weekend in the hills to learn how to

make a Sugan chair from the expert. I know, I should have settled for making something 

small like a chopping board instead of something that requires massive strength and expertise.

Sean Walshe the master craftsman was at hand to teach us this ancient and beautiful art. 

A younger Jeremy Irons look-alike, Sean patiently guided and helped us 5 ladies to choose 

the logs and make the chairs from scratch. He has great experience of traditional furniture

construction based upon a knowledge of native hardwood trees combined with the use 

of traditional hand tools.

So while others took to drilling and hammering with much ease, I was pushed to my 

physical limits and even fell backwards once when the force exerted was too great and 

I lost my balance. The heaviest thing that I had ever carried before the foray into logs 

was a watering can full of water. I prided myself as one who wielded more power with

 the pen then with the axe.

Due to their bespoke nature, Sugan chairs are made of green native timber, ash and 

hazel with 'mortice  and tenon' joints. This archaic chair has a seat made of woven sisal 

rope or twisted hay. Sugan is the gaelic word for straw .

The chair is found in most rural traditional homes and they come in different sizes and

styles. Some have arms so that farmers could rest their arms after a hard day's work 

at harvesting potatoes or cutting turf. Others have no arms so that more children can 

squeeze round the dinner table. In fact in the old days when the story teller (Seannachoi)

called, he would have the prized seat. He would sit comfortably, telling stories to the old 

and young. Such was the simple entertainment of the day.

I am not a chair person as I'm rather a bed person. A good bed is absolutely essential for

a good night's rest. However, interestingly enough a chair symbolises a great many thing.

There's the seat of knowledge and the seat of power. It is the throne that the king sits and

it is also the place where the condemned prisoner finds himself before being electrocuted.

The distance between chairs can denote either intimacy or estrangement.

The Broken Chair, sculpted by Swiss artist Daniel Berset is one. Originally erected on 

August 18, 1997, Paul Vermeulen, director of the non-governmental organisation 

'Handicap International' in  Geneva, saw it fit to use the broken chair as a strong symbol 

for the Mine Ban Treaty.

Another example is Vincent Van Gogh's painting of a chair and a pipe to illustrate simplicity

and separation from the world.

Empty chairs signify loss.

The seventy bronze chairs scattered around Plac Bohaterow Getta which used to be 

Plac Zgody in Krakow, Poland represent the pain and absence of the day as the ghetto in

Krakow was cleared and all the people's possessions were strewn across the streets. It is also 

known as the Ghetto Heroes Square. Each steel chair represents 1000 victims.

Even in the musical  Les Miserables, we have the iconic scene of empty chairs and 

empty tables where revolutionaries paid the price of freedom with their lives.

So,what is the price of a personalised chair?

I love a good challenge and I am one of those who believe that when you stretch yourself 

outside your comfort zone, you learn something. 

And what a stretch it was - with muscle ache in all directions, I carried home a beautifully

hand crafted Sugan chair.

THIS ARTICLE WAS ORIGINALLY PRINTED IN THE NEW STRAITS TIMES MALAYSIA 7 AUGUST 2016
http://digital.nstp.com.my/nst/books/160807nstnews/index.html#/23/

MAKING MEMORIES KEEPS COUPLES CLOSE

I treasure life and each day that I can wake up healthy and surrounded by beautiful things is
something very awesome to me.

I am what John Maxwell, the motivational speaker says - a lid lifter. 

The image is a jar with a lid. How many memories your jar can hold depends on when you cover it and say that's as far as I will go. That's enough for me. For some it may be a reluctance to go
beyond the comfort zone or to try out new things.

I wasn't born a lid lifter. I evolved into one and am still evolving. Lifting the lid makes one vulnerable.

There is a risk but I will not exchange new memories and the lessons that come with them for 
anything in the world. When you lift the lid, you gain insight and become a nicer person to live with 
or be with.

In fact the little or the big things that we do together -  such as going for movies, picnics and
travelling form memories. But this is not limited to just us. It is also doing things together
with others like coffee chats, dining with friends, having friends over for dinner or enjoying outings 
with friends. The friends that we make all add up to our memory bank.

It's lovely to watch people who have just fallen in love. They  want to be together and do things 
together. It is the excitement of being in each others presence and in the presence of others as a
unit. Granted that one may go solo especially in specialised hobbies  like golfing, deep sea diving
or rock climbing.

But with time, togetherness may become a chore. It becomes an obligation, no longer a desire. It
becomes 'I'll do it ' just to avoid disagreement.

One spouse says that he has to bend backwards every time the significant other suggests an
activity. He says he's been working the whole day and has no intention of socialising.  He says it is
just not in his character to do the stuff that she likes.

She says the baby has driven her up the wall for hours and all she needs now is a good night's
sleep. She is so busy juggling so many roles that going to the gym is hard work and why dress
up when slacks and baggy clothes are surely more comfortable?

So he goes to a pub and talks about insignificant things and looks at the overhead TV together
with the others. I say 'look' because I doubt whether they are actually following anything that is 
being aired, unless of course it is football. The TV is easy company because it doesn't demand anything. The pub is perfectly convenient to enter or leave.

Now the home is different because you are dealing with real lives and real people who are
usually related in some way or another.

So we see married people living separate lives. They meet different people and pursue different
interests because the significant other is no longer making any more effort. 

When couples stop sharing their lives and making memories together, communication ends. 
Some call it married singles.

ABBA's opening lines in the song  One man One woman seems to capture what I've been trying to say in the last few paragraphs.

'No smiles, not a single word at the breakfast table...
Though I would have liked to begin
So much that I wanna say, but I feel unable...'

This scenario is a perfect setting for the entry of a third person. Suddenly there is someone else 
who shares your interests or so you think. But of course being devoid of togetherness for sometime
now, youenjoy the sudden attention.

It is no wonder that scams are rife. You often wonder how sensible people can be conned by empty
but sweet promises

Alas, the pain of loneliness is immense and the lack of deep communication takes its toll

What happened to making and sharing memories?

What happened to those days when you would do things together just because?

Lois Lowry in The Giver says, The worst part of holding the memory is not the pain. It's 

the loneliness of it. Memories need to be shared. 

We need to lift the lids.

THIS ARTICLE WAS ORIGINALLY PUBLISHED IN THE NEW STRAITS TIMES 24 JULY 2016 http://digital.nstp.com.my/nst/books/160724nstnews/index.html#/23/

DIFFERENCE BETWEEN JOB AND VOCATION

My friend asked me the other day, ‘What’s the difference between a job and a vocation?’ 

To me, a job is something that you have to do in order to survive. A job is something short term and we often hear the phrase 'dead end job' when people talk about their work. There is no long lasting fulfilment or happiness from a job. It is not uncommon for us to outgrow one job quickly and then search for the next job.

On the other hand, a vocation is a calling. We also get deep satisfaction from our vocation. There is emphasis on the person's talents and abilities in the choice of a career. Some people know what their calling is - to be in service oriented work, to be a volunteer, to be involved in religious work...the list goes on.

But for others, we discover our vocation along the way. We can start off with a job which at the end of the day might still remain as a job. However, we can also start off with a job which later becomes a vocation.

I would like to think that my vocation is touching lives. Simply put, if there is something I can do to make a difference in another person's life, then that is my calling.

I had the privilege to work among young people in lecture halls and in organisations. It started out as a job but it ended as more than a job because thousands of lives passed through my hands.

That I believe provided the ground work on which experiences were built and are continuing to expand into community, religious and voluntary work.

There are many charity bodies asking for funding and these advertisements are regularly aired over the Raidio Teilifis Eireann (RTE) and British Broadcasting Corporation. (BBC)

The organisations are so diverse- ranging from saving a donkey from a life of hard work to sponsoring a child. It is difficult to know which ones are genuine. Far too often we hear of funds being misappropriated and directors embezzling money that is not theirs. People shy away from donating because of such bad reports.

Putting our doubts aside, Michael and I decided to sponsor a child. Now that our children are grown, we feel that we can spread our love to yet another child by committing to help her escape the poverty cycle. Poverty is very real. It is like a generational curse that depletes the land and starves its inhabitants.

So when Compassion set up a stand at a conference that we attended, the time was right for us to check it out. This charity organisation has been around long before I was born and to date has helped over 1.7 million children.

Independent research conducted by Dr Bruce Wydick has shown that former Compassion sponsored
children were more likely than their unsponsored peers to stay in school for longer, have salaried or white-collar jobs and be leaders in their communities.

We were given a kit with a little 4 year old girl's details. The African child has a smallish frame but very serious looking eyes. Her country is dependent on foreign aid where hundreds die because of politics and AIDS. She comes from a land where hot, dry Harmattan winds reduce visibility during winter and periodic droughts leave many hungry.

The moment we laid eyes on the photo, we were convinced that we would see her lead a more fulfilled life till she reaches 18. It is like adopting a child that we have not met and the feeling is amazing.

By exchanging letters and photos and offering love and encouragement, I hope we will be able to affirm her worth and provide hope to Odette that will last a lifetime.

Maybe one day we might get to hold her. 

THIS ARTICLE WAS ORIGINALLY PRINTED IN THE NEW STRAITS TIMES, MALAYSIA 10 JULY 2016
 http://www.nst.com.my/news/2016/07/157465/difference-between-job-and-vocation

http://www.nst.com.my/news/2016/07/157465/difference-between-job-and-vocation

GIVING THANKS IN EVERY SITUATION

I had a bad fall that left me in crutches for a while. I expected to heal quickly but alas, it wasn’t meant to be. Many who have gone down that road would know exactly what I am talking about - days of swelling, pain, misery and most of all inconvenience.

Even though my friends have nicknamed me Pollyanna, there was this anxiety gnarling within me as to when I could walk unaided and I had to unhappily cross out all the events that I had already signed up for and cancel all the appointments that I had made

I fell on a Tuesday, two days before my birthday.

My friends had gone to great lengths to organise a surprise birthday party for me. They had bought the ingredients, the decorations and even ordered the cake. The theme was Caribbean and I could well imagine how much fun that would be. Sadly, it had to be cancelled.

Learning how to use crutches was a new ball game altogether. I learnt how to negotiate the stairs on my derriere just as a baby would. The first time I reached the top of the stairs, I just burst into tears. The whole experience was overwhelming.

Michael doubled up as a male nurse and received in-house training. After a while takeaways become boring and I longed for home cooked food. Seeing him look for ingredients in the larder (while I gave instructions from the couch) was pretty amusing. Being totally dependent on another for simple tasks was absolutely frustrating.

There were some things that I needed from certain parts of the house that were inaccessible for someone on crutches, so I had to give exact locations as to where the stuff was kept or hidden. I was astounded by my own memory power.

My children, sister and friends called or wrote regularly to check on me. I used to be the one visiting friends who were too ill to get out of bed and it was strange to play a reverse role.

Reading was my constant companion. I devoured every interesting piece of literary treasure and emerged with a head full of facts as well as trivial stuff.

I learnt compassion. I've seen how poorly some family members and hospital staff treat elderly patients. I can well imagine  how they must have felt when these carers grumbled beneath their breath or shouted at them. They did not ask to be old or sick.

I learnt patience especially when dealing with people who are not physically fit. I remember the times when I was in a rush and right in my path would be an old lady with her Zimmer frame and I just wished she could quickly progress on. Not any more.

I learnt how to settle for less.  I had just planted out seedlings in the cold frame before I fell. Those who love gardening would know that every stage is important and a good harvest depends on that.  I could see the garden from the window but I couldn't go out. I imagined the plants dying, one by one.

I learnt to see things from a different perspective. Bruises looked like a painting on canvas with colours changing with time - from red to purple to a sickly yellow. Taking a break from crutches, I would be on all fours. I saw grit and dust from a different level altogether.

Most of all when I went on a trip to Petra and beyond, even with the wheelchair and crutches in most places, I found that people were very kind. I had signed up a few months earlier for a very memorable trip and I wasn’t going to throw in the towel as yet. To my surprise, I was fussed over and received privileges that I had never dreamt of, like being the first in line at the immigration counter. I even had an airport staff retrieve my luggage at the carousel.

In every situation, give thanks.

This article was originally printed in The New Straits Times Malaysia, 12 June 2016

http://www.nst.com.my/news/2016/06/151345/giving-thanks-every-situation