a clearing in rain- writings, uncollected

last stop...

2009-12-07T21:20:00.000+08:00

dear friends and passerbys, this will be my last entry for the blog. it will shut down before the close of 2009.

thanks again for all the years of encouragement and support you have given in my forays into writing and reflection. i too have grown in ways i did not expect. some things however need to go if we wish to move further afield on the road to life.

we wish each other well on the road ahead esp in our search to find rest or in meeting our heart's desire.

amen.

between the zeal and the rain

2009-12-04T19:20:00.000+08:00

so much has gone into the reno of my home it's a little hard to encapsulate every experience in words. thanks to phil my designer-pal, everything looks ready to bless & welcome my family and friends come xmas eve.

john's car is a miracle worker...over the course of the past 3 months of so, it has accompanied me on trips to buy everything and anything from taps to cabinets, blinds, sinks, ceramics, plants, pillows, stereo and even a hanging chair. i learnt that a toilet sink can cost as much as 5k and comes with a butt-flush that the japanese enjoy oh so much. the wood grains came with poetry in mind...a harvest of canadian birch, oak pines and white bamboo in season to grace a home. a slice of scandinavian chic with an austere modernist bent in mind.

i picked up that abandoned sprig from prince horticulture. the unexpected finds from rainy days when roads are empty and you drive a little slower to see the little treasures others have left behind. from top brands to cheapo buys, we traversed the eastwestnorthandsouth of singapore...phil's eagle-eye and smart ways with budget made everything worth the emissions and petrol exhausted. i leave him to do the choosing. i just pay (ouch) and look out for what's left aside round the bend, for my unknown corner.

con's sent that imperial walker all the way from san francisco! crazy and devoted gal ...she fulfils a childhood dream to have one of my own. still, i had to let go of some (thanks andy for fostering the millenium falcon & snow speeders) given it's only 86sq m... they should find a 'little' space for themselves.

and there's my gang from 5th canticle who received a decent sneak preview into what's in store for future gatherings. i'm glad they like it. their words and encouragement and cleaning up mean alot to me :)

carpenters.one

2009-11-22T09:35:00.002+08:00

I need to be in love
Songwriters: Bettis, John;Carpenter, Richard Lynn;Hammond, Albert Louis
song clip attached

The hardest thing I've ever done is keep believing
There's someone in this crazy world for me
The way that people come and go through temporary lives
My chance could come and I might never know
I used to say "No promises, let's keep it simple"

But freedom only helps you say goodbye

It took a while for me to learn that nothing comes for free

The price I paid is high enough for me

* I know I need to be in love
I know I've wasted too much time

I know I ask perfection of a quite imperfect world

And fool enough to think that's what I'll find*

So here I am with pockets full of good intentions

But none of them will comfort me tonight

I'm wide awake at 4 a.m. without a friend in sight

I'm hanging on a hope but I'm all right.

carpenters. two

2009-11-22T08:48:00.004+08:00

encountered the carpenters when i was barely ten and grew to enjoy their music from the start. it will be a span of 20 years in-between before i would be willing to listen to their compositions again. mention the duo, and you'll receive a legacy of respect accorded to their artistry and contribution to song history. like their predecessors, the beatles, they left a permanent imprint on the music world and took song composition to a new level of vocal expression. it's hard to detect the same earnest textured confessional pieces these days...

it comes at a special time when i'm preparing to move out to my new pad, relearning what to discard and finding faith to reclaim what i've always cherished. was at my new place for many consecutive nights and days and am wondering how i should allow some nooks and crannies to speak about some longstanding motifs in life and the hallowed journeys that made me who i am today.

this piece by the carpenters was introduced to me when i was 13. raw, searching and unknown even to myself, i found a little affinity with the lyrics. its 'sense of home'...new promises, beginnings to life's changing horizons. much to unpack and acknowledge even as friends come and go away from your life while family and vocation remain constant. some of her songs were even perceived to be rather 'soppy' until one bothers to peel away the defensive statement and read them in light of different or untested chapters about life & living. Some take courage to confess and sing.

bear with the cheesy late 70s pics from the two posts and enjoy the dark and bright depths within each composition.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------

As a child I was known for make-believing
All alone I created fantasies
As I grew people called it self-deceiving
But my heart helped me hold the memories

As I walk through the world I find around me
Something new, yet familiar's in the air
I feel it ev'rywhere
Like a child's eyes
On a Christmas night
I'm lookin' at you now
Finding answers to my prayers

(*) It's a new day for those good old dreams
One by one it seems they're comin' true
Here's the morning that my heart had seen
Here's the morning that just had to come through
Same old stage but what a change of scene
No more dark horizons, only blue
It's a new day for those good old dreams
All my life I dreamed of lovin' you

You're a spark of a long forgotten fire
You're a touch of a slowly growing wind
You're a taste of the ever-changing seasons
Telling me there are some things that don't end

We have left all the darkness far behind us
All those hopes that we held along the way
Have made it to this day
Like an old love song
Gone for much too long
You hear it once again
And it carries you away

Repeat (*)

It's a new day for those good old dreams
And It's all because of you

coming back

2009-11-14T22:30:00.000+08:00

I say your name

again. It is a key, unlocking all the dark,

so death swings open its hinge.

I hear a bird begin its song,

piercing the hour, to bring first light this Christmas dawn,

a gift, the blush of memory

carol ann duffy: over

picking pictures

2009-11-14T18:07:00.006+08:00

reno's almost complete and my loft looks bigger than usual-thanks to the splash of gloss white and quiet linears that broadened the contours of space. in-between, i have also been asked to look back to the past to draw inspiration to message my home for today.

there will be mirror to further expand the space. my designer-pal has asked me to select any picture of my choice to personalise what's there. i took time and rummaged through albums spanning several decades of life and what struck me are pictures of my taken with my menagerie of pets particularly blackie and bobby and the countless birthday celebrations my family took time to organise for one another. i may eventually settle for a sepia-stained picture taken with my sisters and brother and one with my grandmother and parents. without them, i won't be here today. their continuing presence imparts a sense of certainty and comfort even as other lives swish by amid changes in this country and the small neighbourhoods that surround our lives. i asked for a reminder to anchor these constancies together. that will be the de-cal for the door to my storeroom. below illustrates side version of a bistro kitchen leading to a tree motif where all thoughts find rest.

on the same point, this time in the classroom, i closed my final lesson with a song and poem with my classes. it brings mixed feelings as we set each other free. i stand proud looking at their fledging sense of independence as well as their willpower to succeed in the pw oral exams. i will miss them in different ways too; the late hours of discussions and hammering the WR into shape, how they made me laugh in the middle of a sinus attack, their unexpected cards of gratitude, the pokey treats, last minute consultations (which always irritate me) and the many lines of gem and wonder that help them establish their mark as good students; intellectually resistant and persistent minds who are always willing to push the extra mile in their quiet and sometimes loud but collective efforts to give their humble best. i could teach and mentor them forever...but that will not do even as we said goodbye with open hands.

in thanksgiving...

untended places

2009-10-26T22:27:00.002+08:00

i picked this unit because of the view. on the left, i see tips of jurong port lighting the horizon at dusk, reminding me of old ports, grey coasts and distant lighthouses that haunted my earliest impressions of childhood. my 21st floor bedroom window opens up to much of the northwest...safti, kranji, choa and lim chu kang and jb further afield.

i've spent much of my life in the west; born, bred, educated and will probably die here. there was little appeal for the east when friends invited me to hunt for an apartment that would always receive alot of summer breeze from the sea. i enjoy staying in the west for the quiet it offers and the large swathes of green that seem to remind us of our jungle past. providence permitted another childhood fantasy to come true; to be near to the sound and comfort of railway lines, a tangible reminder, an assuring spiritual metaphor indicating a direction sought and gained...a path on which to travel on. i don't always find it completely and have sometimes even been denied of it. but this line of trains outside my window imparts a firm imprint of a past catching up with me, to validate what i've always felt from childhood and my teenage years...

i'll probably be in debt for life when i made the decision to purchase this flat. in this present state, the hacked walls, loosened wires and pristine floor tiles are a contradiction of sorts- laying an uneasy vision of a home to come. you need to work hard to peel the most out of a limited budget and remain unseduced by cheap buys. do i hold a neat dream or a huge mess on my hands?

i have to wait patiently for this place to be completed between now and november. in time to come, i can look longer at spells of coming rain (not anymore on these globalwarming days) drenching the albizia and raintree beyond the window...

a day, complete

2009-10-26T21:43:00.002+08:00

being planted in a new place allows me to rediscover what keeps me happy and fulfilled amid all the expectations that an invisible society places on you. it was last tuesday. and i had just concluded another round of OP rehearsals with 3 classes. we decided to prank around and captured these shots as little memories of us trying to find alot of fun amid the grading and call to self-growth that mark these cycles of college life.

i like my classes. never mind if my day starts at 530am and ends 6 or 8pm during more intense seasons. i look forward to meeting them. i miss being in the classrooms during term breaks. i guess holidays can sometimes be a call to return to self. so much of me feeling complete and integrated at work is sometimes 'determined' by my students and to some extent, the school culture which we are located within. like any interested student keen to try out strange experiences and learn from from fresh encounters, my pupils' desire to give their best to every small and minute detail for this OP means alot to me. in teaching and guiding them, i have also learnt to withdraw at times, esp if they become too dependent on my ideas. i want them to grow independent and own this project for themselves and not because of my bidding.

one day, the hour ended so well i decided to head to macrit alone for another long run at sundown... it was a day of thanksgiving that arrived unnoticed. the good lessons were warmly supported by cheerful and resilient learners that do their part and make your day worthwhile. i sat on one of the boardwalks and listened again to the first calling that led me here. i pray for grace to remain open, enough the sense the purpose that keeps me going, to find fulfilment within.

gordon , melissa

2009-09-10T20:14:00.013+08:00

once awhile, people return to bless your life. mel wrote me a card when she returned from taiwan recently. i didn't really teach her but a timely note dropped into her life led her to a new shore she always wanted to find. it happened the same way when i had dinner with my former student yesterday. he insisted on treating me. an old teachers' day gift, he promised.

it has been about 5 years since mel and gordon left college. about to graduate from nus and eager to explore new terrains, gordon had given some thought about teaching and served with distinction as an intern in a secondary school here. he was offered a scholarship and wanted to discern further, whether he was really ready to say yes. i saw myself in him- all 23 and open to what life may bring. sharing at depth about what teaching meant to both of us, i was led to recall times when i shared other stories and truths, the stuff of life which i have since forgotten. he affirmed our past and returned me home; a word that healed, a decision to forgive, patience to bear, regrets to carry and life broken whole, for others...when to find a friend, when to give, and take and how say goodbye. about mel, she was left in a corner after the release of results. fearful of a future she was not ready to see. i led her to another colleague who gave her courage to do her undergraduate studies in taiwan.

i left in both of them a part of my own searching life and now i glimpsed again the decisions gordon struggles to make even as mel revisits singapore with more than a smile etched in her heart. i retrieved my own past as i saw two futures on the same road i walked. stunned, the right words eluded me. but there was little doubt of why i was put into their lives, to guide them to paths i can never take.

as we parted, gordon said words i never expected to hear even as mel penned her thoughts in chinese (i struggled to decipher with all my might). i never understood what thanksgiving meant till i learnt to receive that day. i sat still in the cafe as gordon continue to speak. i looked beyond the life that sat before me...restoring what i lost even as he regaled and helped me to retrace the stories. i know why life brings a season of loss only to bear fruit in later years. the pain no longer there...the anguish, cast away.

that short hour stretched into night. i no longer see beyond the cold windows in that old favourite cafe. before we parted, i blessed him in my own unknown ways. i drove home that night, with the lamps lightening the long road i was burdened by. like mel, i left only to find back the reason to carry on living, if only to make a difference, if only to receive...finding the freedom that giving brings. and the deep gratitude, just knowing. and seeing two lives, released.

cher's dae

2009-09-01T14:11:00.010+08:00

A note from Mariya, a former student who has since become a teacher herself. I was surprised to find myself in her recollections - thought my goth lessons were 'ahem...' I hope reading this recollection will remind us of our own teachers who made and are still making an impact in our lives: to Mrs Lourdes Nathan (everything in pri school), Mdm Loh Lai Kuan (Econs), Ms Caroline Yeow (Lit), Prof Maribeth Erb (Anthropology)...and all who gave me another chance to know myself and discover all that I can do, learn, teach and serve with the grace God gives... Teaching is the profession that teaches all the other professions. No, I'm not going to wax lyrical (or idealistic more like it) about the noble and virtuous nature of the profession. Like any other job, teaching definitely has its fair share of frustrations. Work doesn't seem to end, marking never appears to cease, juggling teaching and the other peripheral duties can totally make us flip sometimes. But I think in the end, what keeps me (and I'm sure many other teachers) are the students.

I've had several teachers in the course of my education that influenced me to choose this profession. These amazing individuals did not only teach; they educated. What I remember most are the life lessons, the sharing of anecdotes, the motivation, the support and the unwavering belief that we could make it.

The earliest memory I have of a great teacher is Mrs Amy Pang; my form teacher in Primary 1. I still hold Cikgu Saripah, my Secondary 4 Higher Malay teacher and Mr Salim Akbar, my Secondary 3 form teacher and upper secondary history teacher in high regard.

Most fresh in my memory were the Literature lessons in Pioneer Junior College. Mr Eddie Koh's Lit lessons were far from ordinary. It is safe to say that I went to school only looking forward to Lit periods. I remember the highlighted and annotated Dracula and Jane Eyre texts, discussions that turned my world inside out, the Gothic Lit tutorials that left me all bedazzled and craving for more. I remember analysing Alfian Sa'at's The Merlion and John Donne's religious and love poetry. I learnt the most about myself during those two years, doing Literature.

Various professors and lecturers in NUS affirmed my belief in the value of education. I never regretted majoring in Sociology. It totally changed my life, my beliefs, my mindset and my views towards many issues in life.Of course, tribute goes to both my parents, who have been teaching for as long as I can remember. When I was younger, Saturday mornings were spent in my mother's school's Homec Room, where I'll do my colouring and work on assessment books while she conducted her ECA. I also had the opportunity to work alongside my father when I did relief teaching in his school two years ago.

Some people thought that teaching was an obvious career choice for me, but I did give it enough thought before I took the plunge. You don't get rich teaching. You apparently function in this "protected bubble" - heck, it's just students; it's not the "real world." I didn't carry much idealism with me when I started, I think that's why I am able to keep going when things appear bleak.I did not choose teaching because it was the "last resort." I chose teaching because I didn't want to waste my knowledge; whatever little I have. I am not the kind of person who'd do volunteer work or sacrifice time for social causes; so this is my way of paying it forward. I chose teaching because I want to effect changes, however small, in students' lives.

I want to open their minds and get them thinking about things that they have taken for granted all this while (which is why I'm thankful that I'm teaching GP; never mind that I still have a lot to learn in terms of subject mastery).

To all my comrades-in-education (NIE coursemates, colleagues, friends, former teachers, my parents), have a meaningful Teachers' Day. When we're bogged down by things that detract us from teaching, remember the kids. :)

lorong buangkok - a decade after

2009-08-26T21:21:00.002+08:00

I covered buangkok as part of my honours thesis back in university. it's been almost a decade since the project was concluded. one of my pw groups here at raffles is covering the same site at this point in time.

was surprised to find this video on youtube. watching it makes me recall the lanes i walked, the mossie bites i bore and the rich stories shared when i interviewed the residents on-site.

i don't know if this place will be razed to the ground in time. when it goes, it may evoke alot more hard sentiments than expected...the same with the national theatre, library and stadium...the same with pulau seking and tekong and countless other landscapes that mean something to many people, even if they have not worked or lived here before. gone will be the ancient attachments to place, trees, relations and home... these places cannot be recreated once they are gone. the loss is irrevocable, permanent. our understanding of home goes deeper than the provisions and policies of HDB. it takes alot to be emotionally anchored to a place...the stories shared in these clips point to a part of my life which i still try to reclaim today...through the lessons shared in the classroom and my own academic interest in landscape, art and spirituality

running again

2009-08-19T00:18:00.004+08:00

i wanted to do stationary runs in the gym on mondays. i drove to macritchie instead. first time by myself, alone on the road. i left right after school. in my mind- been almost a year since i stopped outdoor runs, having confined myself to a threadmil. post-hospital fears. i was afraid the pain might return once i lay my feet on hard terrain. i stretched, put on my shoes and took a light jog round the boardwalk. i was alone most of the time, save the families of macques and the lone couple that walked by. i ran for 3omins and gradually acclerated with no sign of pain on heel, shin and back. i felt good...think i'm ok now. i trudged on sunlit routes, relished the crush of leaves on the base of my shoes. i jogged to the edge of a knoll, reaching the close of day, a simple happy man. and waters lapped quiet beside my feet. there is spirit in the leaves that rustle song... i smell evening in the air. so grateful i can run again.

birch trees, seasons white

2009-07-24T22:23:00.003+08:00

Late Spring

Coming into the high room again after years

after oceans and shadows of hills and the sounds of lies

after losses and feet on stairs

after looking and mistakes and forgetting

turning there thinking to find

no one except those I knew

finally I saw you

sitting in white

already waiting

you of whom I had heard

with my own ears since the beginning

for whom more than once

I had opened the door

believing you were not far

w.s. merwin (b.1927)

remj

2009-07-22T21:42:00.003+08:00

be still, this time

as your note finds a place

in my hands

your words invite me home.

you used the word 'honour'

to remember me and the times spent.
i come back today, light one candle and pen you this prayer.

be still...

this grief now tears

for you

blessing: prayer for new home

2009-07-14T20:42:00.008+08:00

Constellations by rev lynn james

We find our way in the dark

using light from the lives of others.

Their sufferings and celebrations

are like constellations in the midnight sky,

orienting patterns above the horizon.

Tracing their paths through the night,

we connect our stories to one another;

circling together, we turn toward morning...

in memory: ho yi xin (08S04) 1991-2009

2009-07-12T22:47:00.005+08:00

i taught yi xin last year. she was a hardworking girl who put alot of thought into her assignments. once, i praised her eom and pi as one of the very best scripts received. she wrote about the journey of illegal migrants from myanmar and how to go about addressing their plight. she articulated her case well and penned her thoughts in flawless english. it was an original reading which no one talked about. she submitted many scripts and wanted that perfect piece. but she walked alone most times. her hands always clutching her bag, as if there was something else she wanted to unravel in her heart. once, she asked me where i studied, what i majored in uni, what i like to read. and in that second, i sensed she was looking ahead, eager to forge her own future. she was always a private person and did not share much with her classmates.

there was no time nor place arranged to mourn her loss. her life became ash in a moment...eighteen years of growth and struggle, gone.

Lord. may your perpetual light shine on yi xin always...

lead her home...to find the peace and acceptance she longs...

amen.

intercession

2009-07-12T11:45:00.009+08:00

i read about their lives. and these are two persons whom i pray for. i hope to stand in solidarity with them as they battle the ravage they find within or the tyranny that opts to lock them in. there is only the fierce love that comes with dark suffering, and the gravity that draws its power from love; to feel for your own country and know what needs to be done for the children when daylight breaks.

may our classrooms not become cloisters to keep us safe from a greater world where justice and charity are borne with hope and pain...when knowledge and wisdom are understood in light of their ability to know and heal... our smile as a path to rest...delighted we will find courage to own our mission in the the years to come.

tree-heart

2009-07-04T08:34:00.005+08:00

ken's granny passed away on a tuesday. loved, loving...in dedication-

a sky crumpled and silent... and this cold rain. God may take the sun away. but the tree of grief still stands. we rest under. and pray. an imagined faith made perfect in memory. leaves fall and draw me to a faraway home. to our shelter and past. these albums, the pages of our stories, to be held and noticed once more. i read the lines you penned on its symmetry now that you are no longer there. listening, and missing you, i long to be a child again.

Grief by carol ann duffy (b. 1955)

2009-07-04T08:26:00.003+08:00

Grief, your gift, unwrapped,

my empty hands made heavy,

holding when they held you

like an ache; unlooked for,

though my eyes stare inward now

at where you were, my star, my star;

and undeserved, the perfect choice

for one with everything, humbling

my heart; unwanted, too, my small voice

lost for words to thank you with; unusual,

how it, given, grows to fill a day, a night,

a week, a month, teaching its text,

love's spinster twin, my head bowed,

learning, learning; understood.

----- to furanshi------

three friends

2009-07-01T08:34:00.007+08:00

we've known each other since 1992. one of my best friends. edward left a good career in family medicine for the catholic priesthood, to be a different healer in ways we least expect. last sunday, he flew to rome to continue his studies. it will be three years before we meet again.

f's relationship crumbled after many years of commitment. it's hard to begin again.

cons completed a musical recently. i watched her sing her lines from the depths of her own heart. the stage broke open that same heart...we learn what it means to forgive.

a shower's just fallen. from my window, i see old trees renewed, fresh with rain.
they grow still,

grateful,

present.

they learn to receive.

and every tree has its past.

life goes on...

we hold your journey safe with us

travelogue- jun 09

2009-06-29T13:11:00.014+08:00

'born of stars, how can we not burn?'

mount kinabalu-sabah, east malaysia

imprisoned by cycles of rebirth...

buddha looked, and understood.

cheung chau, lamma island- hong kong

the dead learns to rest.

while we pause, and love what remains.

khao lak, thailand

beginnings

2009-06-28T09:21:00.019+08:00

never knew i would hold an art exhibition in my lifetime. i thank my teachers joanna, kowling and my community at heartspace for the opportunity to share our works on this occasion. i am moved by the support and presence given by my family, colleagues, former students and lifetime friends who turned up to celebrate our journeys with me.

all pieces were sold and some asked if i was happy to 'achieve' this. unknown to many, i flunked art at o-levels and these three days turned out to be a way of letting go a burdened past that scarred me somewhat...i wished my art teacher was here.

on a deeper note, 'achievement' isn't really the point. i was just happy that all of us took courage to share our stories through our works. many took time to read, ponder and listen. that was enough for me. it motivates us to continue painting and sharing our experiences of life, wonder and Christ with others who come our way.

beyond monetary affirmation. my teacher shared once that every painting has a owner out there, looking for that one piece. they know it when they see it. and will readily adopt it into their home...

i like that.

private faith

2009-06-05T23:10:00.006+08:00

in our anguish we struggle

to elude him, to lie to him, yet his love observes

his appalling promises; his predeliction

as we wander and weep is with us to the end.

minding our meanings, our least matter dear to him.

w.h. auden

i learned, i learned, when one might be inclined

to think, too late, you cannot recover your losses-

i learned something of the nature of God's mind,

not the abstract creator but he who caresses

the daily and nightly earth; he who refuses

to take failure for an answer till again and again is worn.

patrick kavanagh

line of trees in may

2009-05-22T23:58:00.005+08:00

leaves fall on the month of may. it was almost three years back when i last caught maples dusting the air with applescent . and recall story of lives covered in autumn reds.my hands listen for rain.

where trees in gold

rewrite dreams once more.

drawn by grace...

2009-05-17T19:34:00.004+08:00

dear friends...

a group of us will be holding an art exhibtion at nus cultural centre from 26-28 june 2009. we'll be sharing pieces that we have been working on for the past year or so, depicting our experiences and interpretations of life and our journeys. this is my first.

personally, i feel quite intimidated, having to share my works with more experienced artists. i have not forgotten my sad grades for o-level art as well! it's good to exorcise these demons for good and step forward with hope and courage

please drop by if you are free. looking forward to your quiet support.

for more info visit -
www.stmary.sg/paulthemusical/artexhibition

a shining life

2009-05-17T12:45:00.002+08:00

i enjoyed myself thoroughly at the recently-concluded raffles dance night where students showcased their best award-winning performances shown on syf. the delicate power and sensitivity for the piece depicting the experiences of japanese comfort women was spell-binding to say the least.indian dance's shakthi and another modern piece, ecstasy was equally inviting with broad strokes of indian feminist mythology and contemporary macabre igniting the soul.

what would our world be like should dance be spilled on the byways of our strait-laced city life, beyond the ndp orchestration that we see annually? this happened in antwerp, belgium. i couldn't care less if it was a staged event or not. it tells me so much about our common capacity for delight as a human community, a fact often drowned amid the intellectual discourse that sadly covers up our potential for playful celebration against the imposed monotony of industrized & 'contemporized' existence.

avila

2009-05-16T01:17:00.005+08:00

Simone Weil has described prayer as a patient waiting with expectancy. It is a paradox of tension that combines the absence and the presence of God; the already and the not yet; the returning and the going; tender loving possession and the agony of searching for the lost...

george maloney: alone with the alone

missing gp...

2009-05-15T03:17:00.003+08:00

a note from a fellow educator in light of the ministry's latest directive related to aware saga...there are days when a subject holds far more potential than some are willing to admit or correct their own preconceptions in light of reality.

Here is the 'offending' note...not featured in mainstream media.

Offend? Does it?

I Teach General Paper, not Homosexuality

With all due respect to the well-meaning “concerned parents” out there, this is starting to sound like a dodgy GP essay to me.Apparently, because my students and I “discuss topics such as the legalisation of gay marriage and parents of the same sex forming families through adoption” in class, I am guilty of promoting homosexuality.

Right.

But never mind. MOE has already come to the rescue with their statement that “GP lessons are meant to promote critical thinking” and GP teachers “should also adhere to social norms and values of our mainstream society”.

Oh yes, apparently one can facilitate critical thinking, that is, the reasoned questioning of assumptions, norms and values AND fully reinforce and adhere to social norms at the same time.And wait, I see this again, in the debate on sexuality education and just what should be said about homosexuality:

1. Homosexuality is against the social norms and values of mainstream society.

2. Homosexuality is illegal and considered unnatural under Singapore law.

The first thing any student of GP (or indeed, any human being who knows anything about world history) will realise, is that social norms change. Secondly, if you insist on going by “mainstream” values and beliefs, you may like to follow 43% of Singaporeans and look to Buddhism, which views homosexuality on neutral grounds, as opposed to Christianity (15%) and Islam (15%).In any case, the legal argument will only hold as long as homosexual acts are considered illegal in Singapore.... and judging from the force of change in the world, frankly my dear, you can't hold the dam for much longer.

Singapore's law criminalising homosexual acts is based on British law – which decriminalised this in 1967.Other countries which have decriminalised homosexuality include France (1791), The Netherlands (1811), Brazil (1830), Ottoman Empire (1858), Germany (1871), Japan (1880), Italy (1889), USSR (1922), Denmark (1930), Iceland (1940), Switzerland (1942), Sweden (1944), Greece (1951), Thailand (1956), Israel (1963), Chad (1967), Canada (1969), Kosovo (1970), Australia (1981), South Africa (1994), China (1997) etc.

This shows an increasing acceptance that personal preferences that do not harm anyone else should not be governed (in this case, criminalised) by the state. As with the wearing away of all other forms of inequality, I believe this discrimination of homosexuals cannot last.So what are we left with?Are we justifying a brand of education with reasons that won't hold weight for much longer?You may argue that making something legal doesn't make it right, and you have a point. But then that would depend on what you consider “right”, which really is a moral issue and one that concerns personal belief.

So I have two points for you:

1. Personal beliefs – religious or otherwise – should not influence the laws of a secular society. The onus is on parents and preachers to educate their children in these beliefs. Say what you want at the pulpit, not in Parliament, and certainly, do not foist this responsibility onto your child's teachers in secular schools.

2. It is unfair, impractical and dangerous to insist that youths be given only the old rules when they live in a completely different world. Parents, if you insist on a black-and-white moral education for your children, you only drive them into secrecy when they need you most. If teachers cannot teach openly and factually, rest assured that the internet will.As an educator and maybe future parent, I admit I am less concerned about whether my children are homosexual/transsexual/(fill in the blank) or not, and more concerned that they should always respect others and themselves, never discriminate, always critically examine issues, always feel free to share their thoughts with me without fear of condemnation, always love and always be loved no matter what.

This is my hope.

Lisa Li
11 May 2009

PS. If you think your children will rush to become homosexual/transsexual/(fill in the blank) because of my words, I THANK YOU for crediting me with such influence! By the way, your children are smarter than you think....
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there are teachers and there are educators...

2009-05-09T23:23:00.003+08:00

To all the Educators I know-

Commonsense and a sprinkle of creativity work the magic,

on days when theories or warnings fail...

Lipstick in School

(You've got to love this principal..a true story)

According to a news report, a certain private school in Brisbane was recently faced with a unique problem.. A number of 12-year-old girls were beginning to use lipstick and would put it on in the bathroom. That was fine, but after they put on their lipstick they would press their lips to the mirror leaving dozens of little lip prints.Every night the maintenance man would remove them and the next day the girls would put them back.Finally the principal decided that something had to be done. She called all the girls to the bathroom and met them there with the maintenance man. She explained that all these lip prints were causing a major problem for the custodian who had to clean the mirrors every night (you can just imagine the yawns from the little princesses). To demonstrate how difficult it had been to clean the mirrors, she asked the maintenance man to show the girls how much effort was required.He took out a long-handled squeegee, dipped it in the toilet, and cleaned the mirror with it. Since then, there have been no lip prints on the mirror.

There are teachers....

and then there are educators.

on sexuality and personhood

2009-05-09T10:08:00.018+08:00

i've been quoting buechner's writings for sometime now as they have played a quiet role in shaping my understanding of faith, life and humanity at large. the current debate between moe and aware over their understanding of human sexuality is an interesting one. both seek to support the role of educators in society. both carry equal potential to educate society at large based on the kind of proper discourse they bring into debates. however, one party seems more pressured to cite presumed social norms as an evasive argument to the facts at hand about human sexuality while the other points to deeper layers of truth embedded in human consciousness, genetics and identity. there are sexual minorities in society just as there are minorities in terms of their race, enthnicity, disability, eye colour, skin colour, left or right handers...all that is given by our genes...some assume certain aspects can be changed, with some difficulty, as some may argue, like hair colour! are we looking at imposed changes or a informed choice based on a person's fundamental understanding of self and the pursuit of happiness? can this be tweaked at all? even if so, at what price?in an existential take on the issue, buechner's distilled spirituality seeks to transcend the stodgy debates that are often reported without further thought mostly by official narratives represented by the local press. homosexual-

One of the ways that we are attracted to each other is sexually. We want to touch and be touched. We want to give and receive pleasure with our bodies, be it holding hands, eating a good meal or a walk in the rain. We want to know each other in our full nakedness, which is to say in our full humaness, and in the moment of passion, become one with each other. Whether it is our own gender or the other that we are chiefly attracted seems a secondary matter. There is a female element in every male just as there is a male element in every female, and most people, if they are honest, will acknowledge having at one time or another been attracted to both.

To say that morally, spiritually, humanly, homosexuality is always bad seems as absurd as to say in the same terms that heterosexuality is always good, or the other way round. It is not the object of our sexuality that determines its value but the inner nature of our sexuality. If (a) it is as raw as the coupling of animals, at its worst, it demeans us and at its best still leaves our deepest hunger for intimacy unsatisfied. If (b) it involves some measure of kindness, understanding, affection as well as genuine intimacy, sacrifice or emotional integrity, it can potentially become an expression of human love in its fullness and can thus help to complete us as human persons. Whatever our sexual preference happens to be, both of these possibilities are always there. It's not whom you go to bed with or what you do when you get there that matters much. It's what besides sex you are asking to receive, and what besides sex you are offering to give...if sex is on your mind at all.

Here and there, the bible condemns homosexuality in the sense of (a) just as under the headings of adultery and fornication it also condemns heterosexuality in the sense of (a). On the subject of homosexuality in the sense of (b), it is as silent as it is on the subject of sexuality generally in the sense of (b). The great commandment is that we are to love one another - responsibly, faithfully, joyfully - and presumably the biblical view is implied in that.

http://www.religioustolerance.org/hom_bibl.htm

Beyond that, "love is as strong as death," sings Solomon in his song. "Many waters cannot quench love, neither can floods drown it" (Song of Solomon 8:6-7). Whoever you are and whomever you desire, the passion of those lines is something you are quick to recognise.
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adapted from frank buechner: whistling in the dark

letter by gwee: 2

2009-05-01T16:51:00.005+08:00

A CHRISTIAN SOLUTION TO THE AWARE CONUNDRUM
By Gwee Li Sui

This is a follow-up to my earlier note. After posting it, I received -- and am still receiving -- words of thanks and encouragement from many Christians and people with different beliefs and opinions. The Christians specifically said that it was what they needed to hear or would have liked to get across themselves.But I have also received less appreciative messages. Some of these charged me with having sown discord and embarrassed Christianity in front of non-believers. The irony did not escape me, but then I began to wonder whether I did make one too many assumptions. These comments were probably knee-jerk reactions, meaning that some Christians may actually not have thought it possible that other Christians, a whole lot of us, could be this appalled with the episode.For this reason, as a brother-in-Christ, I feel that I need to believe that the new ex-co's sadness over its negative reception and its willingness to heal the social rifts it caused are genuine.

There has already been too much distrust, and somewhere trust has to re-begin. My appeal for non-support is not about humiliating or condemning any group of individuals on either side. Those who have hoped that I came out in strong condemnation of one, emailing me links to sex education and "the gay agenda", or in clear support of the other, initially mistitling my view as "supporting the Old Guard", know that I won't.This is not being wishy-washy; it is staying focussed. The simple disagreement is with a course of action pursued by a group of Christians that has caused suspicion between communities and fear within each. If everyone is to set aside his or her own fixation -- gay, anti-gay, faith in practice, fundamentalism, etc. -- and trace back to the source of our current unhappiness, he or she will see that it all started with a single fateful decision.

One ought not then to doubt that these Christians intend good from their point of view, but one has every reason to doubt that things could be restored and relationships healed by going down the same road.As the party involved is Christian, the most amicable solution may well also be the most obvious. In fact, how could we not have seen it? We Christians believe in a God who gives every person second chances in life. Every chance after the first two is still the second: that's how gracious we believe He is! When one makes a mistake or realises that one has followed a bad choice, there is no shame in admitting wrong, so long as one is sincere about changing. The choice to turn back is never a Christian defeat; it is our triumph! Indeed, paradoxically in this situation, one can also only move on, move forward, by going backwards to the point where the wrong choice was made and choose rightly this time. This is a versatile truth I learnt from C. S. Lewis a long time ago. If the new ex-co will, without contest, give up its seats for a more inclusive shape of leadership in AWARE, it will have regained, I dare say, the faith of many Singaporeans and the admiration and support of every Christian in full measure. These individuals can then go on to pursue in earnest their concern over homosexual teaching in schools and related issues with the right authorities. I want to believe that everyone in that later business will be cooperative and respect the eventual findings, whatever the outcome is. If the AWARE Christians in current leadership and those gearing up to vote tomorrow will choose this infinitely less harmful route, they will have made us all who are Christians proud of them. Do consider the option seriously: it is as practical and as Christian as it can get. Realise that fellow believers like me who are outraged want peace too and have been praying for it. But, when it comes to making peace a reality, only specific individuals are able to effect it. The ball is in their court alone. We can all avoid a confrontation. We can stun the nation with one simple move that affirms love, faith, and hope, all at once.

Yours Truly,
Gwee Li Sui

letter by gwee : 1

2009-05-01T16:48:00.005+08:00

a timely note and appeal from a fellow poet, christian and lit senior whom i knew since nus. pls feel free to share with others...

CHRISTIANS AGAINST AWARE TAKEOVER
Gwee Li Sui

Christians in Singapore, listen! You should not be this conflicted about the AWARE debacle. It appears that a few churches have already taken the opportunity to preach on the issue of homosexuality from the pulpit. Some Christians have also been rattling on about it being time to make a stand and be counted for what one truly believes.

So this is me making a stand right here. I have been a Bible-believing Christian for 25 years now. I want first to acknowledge fellow believers who, like me, are shocked, angered, and saddened by the takeover and feel that their faith has been hijacked and their views ignored. I know that a lot of such affected Christians are out there. There is also another group which may not agree with the new team's tactics but admires its fervour or sympathises with it for the heat it has been getting.

But, most of all, I want to address a crucial third party: Christian women who have been encouraged to stand up and be counted for their beliefs. I wish to appeal to their good sense in these last hours. You may be one of these and have even joined, or are planning to join, AWARE to help swing the votes in favour of the new ex-co on Saturday. Especially if I am describing you, please read on! Yes, there are times when a Christian needs to make a courageous stand – but, in every event, always ask yourself: For what cause is this? What context does it serve? The current scenario is not one where we are being asked what our beliefs on certain issues are or whether Christianity and homosexuality are compatible or we are being mocked or discriminated against. It is a simple context where a group of well-meaning Christians infiltrated a secular organisation in order to be in a position to dictate their own values in its daily running. In this light, what a Christian may feel about issues like homosexuality is besides the point!

As a secular body, AWARE rightly cannot have a vision that treats women from different backgrounds through the outlook of just one religious system. Indeed, I dare say that an appropriate Christian response is to resist the actions of these Christians. Just as God gave every person free choice and the opportunity to believe, we ought to support the sanctity of this right for others to make up their own minds and live their own lives. Just as we do not force the Christian faith down someone's throat against his or her will, we should not take over a non-religious organisation for the single purpose of making others unlike us behave as we believe. To do this would be a gross misapplication of the message of Jesus.

If you support the new ex-co's actions, be aware that you are sending a string of possibly irreversible wrong signals to every Singaporean. Consider carefully whether you are willing to shoulder the responsibility of damages that would affect the longstanding good work of Christians in Singapore. Since the government has chosen not to be involved in the matter so far, whatever happens will be seen clearly by all as the response of particular sectors of society. Here is my short list of obvious implications: [1] Support the new ex-co, and you are effectively saying that you condone its quasi-corporate act of infiltration, with related strategies of secrecy, disinformation, moral coercion, and fear-mongering. You are saying that you support its less-than-Christian covert moves more than traditionally Christian ones like dialogue, open engagement, honesty, and clarity.

[2] Support the new ex-co, and we will go down a slippery road with wide-ranging repercussions for all. Don’t believe for a moment that the manoeuvring will stop here. What this invites others to see is that infiltration is the most effective way for small groups of like-minded individuals to seize power quickly -- and where will this end? What is to stop any religious or ideological group from doing the same to any social institution at every level? In the long run, who do you think loses?

[3] Support the new ex-co, and you potentially make light of the freedom that is God’s gift to every human being. Against your best intentions, you may send out instead the message that we Christians think that we know better than everyone else and that we are willing to outflank, overpower, and overwhelm if we do not get our way.
[4] Support the new ex-co, and, if they stay and behave as predicted, you will be directly responsible for undoing the trust that many Christians have taken years to build with their non-Christian friends. This is a trust built on mutual respect. You will have made the Gospel of Christ more difficult to hear for years to come because people will think that they know what it is about. You will have created a new generation of Christ-haters. This matter, in short, is not to be treated lightly. Jesus tells us all to be "wise as serpents, and harmless as doves". There are times to be passionate and helpful in a gungho way, but this is not the time. Christians can be wrong about many things too. So please, by all means, pray for the AWARE debacle to be resolved amicably and for Christians in AWARE, but do not, in the name of our common faith, go in blind support of other Christians because you are Christian!

Yours Truly,

Gwee Li Sui

an extract

2009-04-26T08:26:00.003+08:00

this eloquent and lucid extract sourced from Straits Times online forum, a letter by Joel Chua, sums it up perfectly.

----------------------------------

25 April 2009
Straits Times Online Forum

The truth behind the fracas surrounding the so-called leadership coup at Aware has finally come to light. A group harbouring anti-homosexual sentiments had become upset over the organisation's promotion of social equity for gays and lesbians, and wanted to reinstate 'traditional values'.

Is it not pungent with irony that a group dedicated to the promotion of equal rights for women should implicitly advocate social discrimination against another group? One would expect that individuals who undoubtedly appreciate the historical struggles women had to endure to free themselves of their societal shackles, also appreciate a similar, contemporary struggle for social acceptance. Have the oppressed become the oppressors?

But I understand that, for these individuals, it is a matter of morality. Their interpretation of their religion dictates that an innate sexual condition is grounds for opprobrium.
They might perhaps consider that even today, in certain societies, their counterparts continue to face unrelenting and imaginable prejudice, also because of an innate sexual condition - that of merely being a woman. Those who oppress them do so under the banner of perceived morality as well. Stories of how women are treated in some countries by the 'morality police' shock the conscience of women and men, straight and gay alike. Is it really moral or the fruit of a religion, whose early members were themselves persecuted as ideological deviants, to discriminate against people who are different?

Ultimately, this is not just a battle between pro- and anti-homosexual factions. It is but one front in the larger war against discrimination of all kinds. But just as the tide of history turned in favour of women in Singapore, so too will it eventually turn in favour of other groups. As for the new leadership at Aware, they must now struggle to keep their heads above the choppy waters of irony.

Joel Nicholas Chua

debacle at AWARE

2009-04-26T06:39:00.020+08:00

astounded.

just one word but it sums up my response to the AWARE saga that has been brewing between the old and new guard at dover crescent. it has spilled across much of singapore, generating active discussion among other civil societies as well as ordinary singaporeans who have been asked to study more into the alleged agendas and values which both camps purport to live by.

one claims a higher moral ground at the risk of being labelled as 'moral vigilantes' or 'christian talibans' while the other appears to have stretched themselves too thin in wanting to address the needs and struggles of women in need, including same-sex attracted persons and the transgender communities, many whom are also recognised as women under the law.

i stand with the old guard.

the team led by dr thio and josie lau shake the very foundations of transparency, humility, honesty and humanity which many live by, regardless of our affiliations or orientations, be they ethnic, religious, sexual or cultural in form. i wonder how muslim, hindu, secular women are going to find a home within their schema, not forgetting women or families with different worldviews and values as well.

the desire to speak and live with integrity is fraught with challenges of its own. some are challenged to make known of their beliefs or value systems which they live by while the rest of us learn to recognise our own blind spots in facing up to other truths about human nature or civil society as a whole. 'inclusiveness' can become an abused word where we begin to form tribes of our own, believing the world to be 'one jerusalem', yet not knowing the gospel may be received differently by others in search of life, meaning and maybe, even God.

to say we wish to 'help' others while denying how that term must first apply to oneself can turn out to be one of the heaviest ironies to unfold & carry in life.

perhaps, a few enlightened ones will emerge in this process of debate and confrontation...to understand that at some point, we too have been blind and that it is necessary to seek clarity, fair or proper knowledge given our education, life experiences and for some, our separate stages of faith development.
HELP

As they're used psychologically, words like 'repression', 'denial', 'sublimation', 'defense', all refer to one form or another of the way human beings erect walls to hide behind both from each other and from themselves. You repress the memory that is too painful to deal with, say, you deny your weight problem. You sublimate some of your sexual energy by channeling it into other forms of activity more socially acceptable. You conceal your sense of inadequacy behind a defensive bravado. And so on and so forth. The inner state you end up with is a castle-like affair of keep, inner wall, outer wall, moat, which you erect originally to be a fortress to keep the enemy out but which turns into a prison where you become the jailer and thus your own enemy. It is a wretched and lonely place.

You can't be what you want to be or do what you want to do. People can't see through all that masonry to who you truly are, and half the time, you are not sure you can see who you truly are yourself. You've been walled up so long.
Fortunately there are 2 words that offer a way out, and they're simply these: Help me. It's not always easy to say them - we have our pride after all, and we're not sure there's anybody we trust enough to say them to - but they're always worth saying. To another human being - a friend, a stranger? To God? Maybe it comes to the same thing.

Help me. They open a door through the walls, that's all. At least hope is possible again. At least you're no longer alone.

frederick buechner: whistling in the dark

resurrection

2009-04-20T21:00:00.011+08:00

Oh the rush with which the forgotten mind awakens

Under the day a well of dark where colour dwells

Until it learns the art of light and can reveal,

In neglected things, the freshness thought darkens.

With grey mastery distance starts to blur the horror.

Already the days begin to set around the loss.

The after-silence of his death becomes porous

To the gossip of regret that follows failure.

Through the cold, quiet nighttime of the grave underground,

The earth concentrated on him with complete longing

Until his sleep could recall the dark from beyond

To enfold memory lost in the requiem of the mind.

The moon stirs a wave of brightening in the stone.

He rises clothed in the young colours of dawn.

john o 'donohue

it has become a struggle to mark easter after the passing of lent. having been a catholic christian for most my life, i have learnt to take for granted that the church will carry on the tradition of this feast, bringing with her the scores of pilgrims who remain faithful and believe.

i need a good poem to pick up my life sometimes. o'donohue's verse draws me back to the tomb of my own unconsciousness and the semi-darkness that i still slip into now and then. in my heart, i too have entertained many 'gossip(s) of regret' of things that remain undone and how i have 'set my days' , often 'around the loss' that is received.

someone once said it is important in life to always "watch the tides..."

after the endfalls of rain

i wait for the coming ocean to break this silence,

to put my dreams on shore

gift and detachment

2009-04-19T00:35:00.004+08:00

Detachment does not mean not loving; it means loving well. We love if we learn, little by little, not to use another as an instrument for getting-my-own-way. I love the natural world by relating to it with reverence and courtesy. I love both people and things by leaving about them an area of peace and space in which they can be themselves, without forcing and cutting them into my own shape and size.

Miriam Pollard

bumper crop

2009-04-15T19:56:00.011+08:00

pw results were released last thursday...i felt nervous for my own classes...believing i assessed them fairly and hoping everything will best reflect the effort we put in. it was one of the toughest years for me, preparing to leave yet determined to do my best for my final batch. i remembered having mentored them through every stage of the research process...their ideas bouncing off mine and me on one occasion hopping from one table to another, balancing 6-7 topics ranging from obesity to disability to undergarments (!), forensic science and stairways in my mind. i tasted madness.
and yes, they did it! with more than half bagging distinctions for their sheer energy, heart & hard work. it was a proud moment for me when their sms-es started streaming in, detailing their grades and how they felt. i was most most heartened by their gratitude. s17 called and screamed so loud my phone almost went bust. a few who did not manage to get a distinction also texted me a note to say thank-you. these are the ones i'll always remember in a special way...letting me know that at the end of the day, i've done my share and they too have grown, learning to look at life beyond grades.

i still think there are many ways to make this rich subject less of a chore for both tutor and students. however on the point of pw, this sustains me - to be a witness of their own growing love and respect for research and knowledge, to marvel at everyday phenomena and to unpack social theories to understand life at large and sometimes, beneath a microscope. not forgetting, working and learning to live with people of diverse quirks and background.

i would be lying if i do not admit that teachers do appreciate the gratitude their students show. it reminds us that our work goes beyond helping them obtain an "A." it was thus strange that only 2 students from my own form class texted back, at least to update me about their grades. the rest fell silent. that is life, sometimes.

i am moving to another stage where i'll tell myself to give the best in class regardless of the response received. it's a bonus if an affirmation comes my way. if not, life goes on and the quiet mission remains.

lost lives

2009-04-05T22:22:00.013+08:00

Oh Danny boy, the pipes, the pipes are calling
From glen to glen, and down the mountain side
The summer's gone, and all the flowers are dying
'Tis you, 'tis you must go and I must bide.
But come ye back when summer's in the meadow
Or when the valley's hushed and white with snow
'Tis I'll be here in sunshine or in shadow
Oh Danny boy, oh Danny boy, I love you so.

And if you come, when all the flowers are dying
And I am dead, as dead I well may be
You'll come and find the place where I am lying
And kneel and say an "Ave" there for me.

And I shall hear, tho' soft you tread above me
And all my dreams will warm and sweeter be
If you'll not fail to tell me that you love me
I'll simply sleep in peace until you come to me.

I'll simply sleep in peace until you come to me.

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a friend introduced me to declan galbraith, this english boy-singer who was only eight when this clip was recorded. the song was danny-boy, one of the first irish songs i learnt for music class back in assumption primary school. the tune brought back pictures of my childhood...here with blackie and many years later as an undergrad with bobby. these two dogs of mine grew up together. i remember picking them both from a litter of puppies and christianed them with my sister.
.

blackie stayed with a distant auntie and was eventually sent to the pound, without our knowledge. i remember him leaping up to greet us each year when we visited him. i was too young to question why nor see the pain the kind of decision could have inflicted upon him. blackie remembers us till the end. i live on with heavy regret that i could not be there for blackie when he died, old, forgotten and alone. images of him forcefully dragged up with wires up a truck still return to haunt me.

bob led a fuller life. he was small enough to move with us into a flat. bobby lived to a ripe old age but had to be put down because of cancer. i kept my promise this time and was with him till he breathed his last. i was 24 then, and always thought my eyes were born with no tear-ducts. i wept like a child when the vet placed his limp body in my arms. he whined in acute pain, not physical in form, and gradually fell silent when the drug took effect... i sometimes still ask if he wondered why he was allowed to die...even as he breathed his last.

with age and maturity, we grow to confront wider concerns and different kinds of death or injustice that surround us. sung by the same boy, this second song throws me into present time, and bullets my conscience with its final lines. my early affinity with my pets leads me to a different terrain altogether. whoever said childhood is devoid of pain must be blind. those who preach about moral gaps in today's world without a sense of their own may falter or fail. i bear no neat answers to the questions posed by the boy. still, there is a voice inside him that draws me home to that first gaze when God bends down and hears this prayer- our heartsongs about a our lost & secret past entwined with stories of other lives, received and reclaimed.

-------------------------
Our birth is but a sleep and a forgetting;
The soul that rises with us, our life's star,
Hath elsewhere its setting...
Heaven lies about us in our infancy.

william wordsworth: intimations

to michael cheong

2009-04-04T21:58:00.016+08:00

mike and i first met during our first year at nus. we joined the catholic students' society (css)...ran for office and bonded as heads of our respective faculties, part of the wider ex-co css family. he served as faculty head for engineering and i led the arts catholic family. we formed a loyal friendship with edward (medicine) and louis (law), and spent our days debating much on vatican II, why women can't join the priesthood, contraception, and wondered if the gift of tongues may be another form of hyped and organised hysteria afterall. in many ways, i think we helped each other to locate spaces within our own prayer life to accomodate the sort of disparities that can confront a thinking christian in attempts to understand the role of the church, the centrality of christ and a web of ethics that argue what it means to live out God's promises in life. amid the necessary mess, i found a safe space with 3 of my brothers who allowed me to be the way i am even as i try to understand their own worldview and faith experiences in light of our common humanity.way beyond theology, dogma and doctrine, the four of us grew to form a deep kinship that is to last for many years down the road. back in our nus days, we did the usual stuff undergrads dabbled together; organised retreats, planned talks, led in prayer, stayed over in each others' place, shared by breakwaters, took long rides in louis' car and feasted on the good food we enjoyed. we grappled with our fair share of heartbreaks...ennui... crisis...and coping with exam blues. louis is married and remains in law. i continue my journey as a teacher. edward has left his career as a doctor and will soon fly to rome to train for the carmelite priesthood (http://www.ocdcarmelites.org/). i still remember the shock we received when mike seemed to have left his old life, family and friends all of a sudden one november morning, packed his bags and joined the verbum dei order.(http://www.verbumdeisingapore.org/). after months of quiet discernment on his own. we kept in touch over the years. visited michael once in cebu where he was doing his noviatiate. after more than 6 years in formation , mike has finally been ordained as deacon, one step more to priesthood, if he decides to journey on. he sent us a youtube recording of his ordination recently, in the philippines where he resides. many past scenes from our journeys welled up within when i saw this clip. he remains the same mike we have come to love him for; a humble and gentle man of simplicity whose very life is rooted in the same love that jesus placed in him.
though we no longer meet nor communicate as often as we do, the winding songs of our shared journey remains deeply etched in my mind. and reality bites, knowing we now have different sets of friends and work on different priorities in our lives. i feel a sense of distant warmth even as i pen these words; happy for his journey yet knowing somehow our lives may never cross again due to our separate missions today.

mike once strummed a song to me with white alf in his arms. i was went through a bad patch then. his childlike view of the world, and our faith never leaves its mark on me.

i miss my friend and brother when evening falls. i light a candle for michael, in thanksgiving and in prayer to accompany him, and his vocation...a missionary for christ on life's road.

council campaigns

2009-04-04T20:33:00.014+08:00

time for the elects to garner the votes they need to find a place in the 28th students' council. these campaign posters spill across the floors and walls around college. i'm spellbound by some of them. these are some of my favourites. their friends even carry self-made promo stickers designed by their elect-mates, paste them on their uniforms and attend lects, tutorials and eat in the canteen, then stroll about between lessons...canvassing for votes...they are hardly disturbed by the added and endorsed accessories on their bodies. and the institution in sporting spirit, warmly encourages this tide of festive spread. i don't remember investing so much creative juice during my days. these are the memorable sparks that make a day in school worth the journey taken. beyond the rigours of getting them to meet pi deadlines and drumming an intellectual framework to project work, i do remind myself daily in class that my students have other lives and personas of their own...to imagine, grow and lead. i think they appreciate that extra and sincere query you make before lesson starts, how their campaigning has been and the support they have been receiving from their CT classes...i try to do my part too...

about 8% of my students are running for council this year. it's exciting to see another side to their motivated selves conceptualising new angles and mediums to share another side to what makes them glow & tick...

they say serving in council is about serving the student body at large...i marvel at the 101 ways to how that mantra has been interpreted time and time again in bright colours and nuances in tone & persuasion.

who would you vote for, just by looking at the posters alone?

preview

2009-03-30T22:49:00.005+08:00

from a email sent out to some close friends recently, who shared a gift for my birthday... i have been collating various nooks and designs to conceptualise what my own place can become. yeap..i got it !
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Dear friends,

thank you for the bdae gift you shared for me. this jacket is super-cool and snug (even though many of you have yet to see it!). it shall follow me thru' many seasons in the years ahead...sorry the note comes late. alas, the cash has finally come in but peter is able to process everything, in infinite patience and quiet wonder. still, your generosity will remain for all eternity.

i have also fulfilled a once-distant dream; a humble 21th floor 4 year and 4 room hdb resale along bukit batok west. it is opp the driving centre and overlooks some hills in johor, much of the western countryside and a tinge of Jurong port. best of all, every window looks out to different shades of night and day cast on a far horizon. one window peeks above a brief canopy of trees...just as i imagined from many vague dreams in childhood.

you will soon be consulted in the refurbishment of this place and i promise to make it a warm and open lodge to welcome all. thank you for sharing my hopes in the different chapters of our friendship, some of you, stretching to almost 20 years. may God continue to help us experience more laughter, healthy abandonment and sure hope in all things good to come our way...

New Testament Greek speaks of believing 'into' rather than believing 'in'. In English, we can convey the distinction best by using either 'in' or no preposition at all.

Believing in God is an intellectual position. It need have no more effect on my life than believing in Freud's method of interpreting dreams or that Shakespeare wrote Romeo and Juliet. Believing God is something else again. It is less a position than a journey, less a realisation than a relationship. It doesn't leave you cold like believing the world is round. It stirs your blood like believing the world is a miracle. It affects who you are and what you do with your life like believing your house is on fire or somebody loves you. We believe in God one reason or another we choose to believe so. We believe God when somehow we run into God in a way that by and large leaves us no choice to do otherwise. When Jesus says whoever believes 'into' him shall never die, he does not mean that to be willing to sign your name to the nicene creed guarantees eternal life. Eternal life is not the result of believing in. It is the experience of believing. . .

and finding, at last, a place to call my own

adapted from frederick buechner

Okuribito by Yōjirō Takita

2009-03-22T00:51:00.008+08:00

"there is a stone we picked by the riverbed. it tells the story we cannot quite complete nor understand. i recover these tears when i kneel to touch your face. with hands unfolding, the cloth of my song now speaks your name."

i've my record of 'greats' in over 500 films seen in more than a decade...forrest...shawshank...cider house...eighth day... it has been awhile since another piece achieves that rare, quiet & complete stature or greatness on screen, for me.

wife, husband, partner, parent, friend, alone or with a newfound stranger...go watch this. i won't say more... it is good that even words fail me.

tree; writings

2009-03-21T00:36:00.003+08:00

The wonder is that we can see these trees and not wonder more.-

Ralph Waldo Emerson

Trees are poems that earth writes upon the sky,

We fell them down and turn them into paper,

That we may record our emptiness.

Kahlil Gibran

superfriends in 224-B

2009-03-19T23:20:00.005+08:00

i used to rush home from school...finish my homework (and sometimes writing lines!) in time to catch this series. it was a hit in the 80s. i lived inside keat hong village, in a kampong off choa chu kang. that was my unit address. finding this again on utube shocks & delights me.

dad will be burning bonfires at the backyard to repel the mossies. mom dishing up food at the kitchen. sis will be busy marking. my dogs, brownie and blackie will be near me. the series played...'tacky' wasn't part of my vocabulary then. and i was happy. picture courtesy of pchew-nostalgia.blogspot.com/2008/09/kampong-...i hope to find time to scan and upload some of my past one day...

knowing death

2009-03-16T23:51:00.013+08:00

"Dont worry about dying - that will happen successfully

whether you worry about it or not"

quoted from a buddhist monk

i am in touch with a former student whose loved one is being given palliative care for cancer. he rests in assisi hospice, a special place i used to visit during my undergrad days and shared carols with the patients there. all have passed away but their smiles and presence remain, among the familiar and homely corners that are there. reading his open account (http://shadyz09.livejournal.com/) moved me. i too, am suddenly reminded of the many sudden deaths that marked my childhood and some stages of my adult life. beyond the people who died, this encounter was marked by countless visits to funeral parlours, crematoriums, cemeteries and once, even a morgue.

i learn to experience death even before i go. to me, that is a privilege that saddens, humbles but also frees me tremendously. over the years as a teacher, be it for lit or gp, i also conducted learning journeys to these resting places, perhaps a subconscious desire to help my students confront and befriend an inevitable part of life whom none can escape. i remember one particular trip where we stood, silenced by the sight of a simple a balloon above the gravestone of a child. it read- 'happy bdae, son.' often, to the uninformed, there is more fear than peace when it comes to the thought of death. death seems to sever all ties with the living. the pain of leaving our loved ones behind imparts a deep anguish that cannot be put in words.

on the other hand, it also makes us want to live life more intensely, grateful for every waking moment; be it a walk up a flight of stairs, sharing a great meal with people or simply, trying to capture rain, through art or photography. i experience my fitness, my vision and my imagination in these moments, convinced of my spirituality as a person, capable of every emotion that makes me reflect, think and feel. when every degree / work has been gained, all salaries spent and all loves expressed...this final stage and some say, 'takeoff' , leaves us in wonder, for more...we want to see what lies behind the veil of our existence...our soul against an open sky...tinted in blue rarefied air; a canvas inscribed with a promise, that very dream that lays waste will become whole again. and our joy, will be complete.

rainlight's home

2009-03-15T20:34:00.003+08:00

When a defining moment comes along, you can do one of two things. Define the moment, or let the moment define you...meanwhile, we are enlarged in that waiting. We, of course don't see what is enlarging us. But the longer we wait, the larger we become, and the more joyful, our expectancy...

adapted: sharon cotner's comfort prayers

saw my final unit today. i made a commitment to it. a 21th floor apartment that overlooks all of west, much of malaysia, and the faint lighted seas of jurong port. within budget. this picture is an inaccurate figment of its real and humble form. but it fits snugly into my heart. that is all that matters. after viewing 12, 13 units for so, this is it.... it was raining when i viewed the flat with some close friends and family today. i saw rain streaking past the high windows, resembling the unlikely fall of snow. once a fantasy, now, not quite believing. our God blesses a longheld dream. it is coming true.

a route outside school

2009-03-14T00:22:00.006+08:00

they were preparing for assembly. and they really sang- the national and college anthems, though the latter was much more audible in form and conviction. each of them will pass through these gates and we hope they do become hope for a better age.

even as footsteps lighten and noise dies down, one does wonder if there is anything more left to impart. aren't they supposed to be self-directed, learners in their own way? sam just passed me the following lines which were inscribed on diary...it has been quite awhile since another quote, in an instant, inspires a silence within that defers quick judgement and brisk reading.

Often I have tried the frightening way of 'reality',

where the things that count are profession, law, fashion, finance.

But disillusioned and freed I fled away,

alone to the other side, the place of dreams and blessed folly.

hermann hessse

on the evening before rain-

2009-03-05T22:16:00.003+08:00

i want to say more under this rain but you stand apart

and away.

my shadow lingers in wait

lamplight keeps vigil

in the night

ahead

yoda of olde, pls come home

2009-03-01T08:51:00.005+08:00

digitalised yoda in his heydays was no match for the wise and warm puppet that he was in his later history. compare the cheap lines of the first to the thoughtful script in the second clip. the latter was filmed in the 70s with limited technology. producers had to depend on other resources to 'move' and 'embed' a scene. the latest pieces in 2000 may have prioritised the sophistry of new media over thoughtful characterisation.

i will opt for zen and sesame street over rabid CGI in film technology.

(some galactic collisions), if i did not become another 'cher

2009-03-01T08:38:00.008+08:00

we live parallel lives. some of these best scenes from star wars still enter in my waking dreams. was eight, nine or ten when i watched them. every boy then (now?) dreamt of piloting any of these starships, and volunteer for a battle scene. i have been clinging on to these galactic aspirations more than fifteen times since. i think i will take them to my grave... relive them amid a quantum of stars... nebulas... swirling in my elliptical heaven.

hail to lucas and the star wars trilogy...

life calling

2009-02-24T22:29:00.014+08:00

LET SOMETHING ESSENTIAL HAPPEN TO ME
=======================================
O God,
Let something essential happen to me,
something more than interesting
or entertaining,
or thoughtful.

O God,
Let something essential happen to me,
something awesome,
something real.
Speak to my condition Lord,
and change me somewhere inside where it matters,
a change that will burn and tremble and heal
and explode me into tears
or laughter
or love that throbs or screams
or keeps a terrible, cleansing silence
and dares the dangerous deeds...

Let something happen in me
which is my real self.
O God,
let something essential and passionate happen in me now.
Strip me of my illusions of self-sufficiency,
of my proud sophistications,
of my inflated assumptions of knowledge
and leave me shivering as Adam or Eve before the miracle of the natural -
the miracle of this earth
that nurtures me as a mother
and delights me as a lover;

the miracle of my body
that breathes and moves,
hungers and digests,
sees and hears,
that is creased and wrinkled and sexual,
shrinks in hurt,

and swells in pleasure;
that works by the most amazing messages
of what and when and how,
coded and curled in every
cell and that dares to speak the confronting
word.
O God,
Let something essential and joyful happen in me now.

Something like the blooming of hope and faith,
like a grateful heart,
like a surge of awareness
of how precious each moment is,
that now, not next time,
now is the occasion
to take off my shoes,
to see every bush fire,
to leap and whirl with neighbour,
to gulp the air as sweet as
wine
until I've drunk enough
to dare to speak the tender word:

"Thank you"
"I love you"
"You're beautiful";
"Let's live forever beginning now";
and "I'm a fool for Christ's
sake."

- Ted Loder

as it is, as they are

2009-02-23T22:46:00.008+08:00

i enjoy listening to mandarin songs even though my grades in the same language were nothing to be proud of. over these years, many songs have remained with me. they come back when i least expect it...on a long ride home, in the pool, reading at night, the rare day in a ktv pub... the quiet road tracing a journey's end.
half the time i do not always capture the full meaning of their lyrics. in my simplicity or rudimentary understanding (and sometimes with the patience and help of great bilingual friends), i receive a glimpse into the beauty of this language...i am no linguist but i feel some of these chinese songs capture & express a range of human experiences that find no equivalent to the types you hear in english songs (maybe except those sung in the 80s...then again, i am obviously biased). the phrasings and poetic nuances in some pieces express a depth that english cannot penetrate, let alone translate.
it's best to receive them as they are. again, i don't always understand what is written but it's sufficient to note i feel a tacit grasp for what they wanted to say...there's a story to this one. never has the theme of change been sung with so much loss, anger and anguish.

this piece is by kit chan. i heard her live, once in nus. the sound system went off but still she soared, her voice lifting the day. we came close to heaven.

crossing

2009-02-22T02:02:00.014+08:00

2000

Lord, it takes awhile to chart the distance crossed,

rediscovering

the first affections that anchored hearts to place.

2004

it mattered to you that i claim

my will to live

in all the choices

that life offered

2006

i do not know if sometimes the emptiness may be loved,

but there lies a treasure

hidden

on foreign field

2009

no one knows what may happen

in the next crossing.

i will do what a child does

knowing

you command a tree over man

give grace and shelter,

believing

your happiness protects us

now, this day

and

always

adapted:

writings & poems of paulo coelho and yehuda amichai

-----------------------------

vigil

2009-02-15T13:01:00.012+08:00

wailin, richard, pat and the monks of yarra glen are an important part of my life in australia. they taught me how to love, laugh, live and pray. never one to turn away anyone in need, they share their warmth & hospitality with all. i miss them. their home-cooked meals, their poetry and music, the herbs and travel tales they used to share with me. they helped me find my second home when i was studying alone then, in melbourne. they now live in uncertainty & much fear as their lives and property hang threatened by the fire that rages on in victoria state. many have chosen to stay behind for as long as they can to ward fire off their property. because that is all they have left...i don't know how long more they can fight. a recent phonecall to them assures us that they are well, exhausted but safe, each community taking turns to watch the night, patrol their lands and alert each other should they detect danger miles ahead. it does not help that the fires are spread by fierce winds and gum-rich eucalyptus trees.Lord, protect and bring to an end the fires that they fear. many are old. they are tired. they fear abandonment. alot of us struggle to believe in your care in the middle of this hell and madness.

Lord

restore those whose lives are ruined and torn by destruction.

you are with them in their fear and loss

you will save

Lord, give us faith,

help our unbelief.

----------------------------------------

the cistercian community at tarrawarra and the communities in healesville and all of australia ask for our prayers. for aid and for rain to stop the fires from raging and destroying their homes and lives

http://www.cistercian.org.au/

lor gambas: checkpoint 93

2009-02-13T23:15:00.013+08:00

we can no longer tell
the difference between the cool jade of forest leaves and
the warm odour of sun melting sleeves, socks and boots.

the ground stings
with over-heated grass.
we can only stretch eyes this far,
attain some luck in stumbling, or succumbing
to the rising spells of emerald heat.

and there is fear of sundown...

our dreams morph

into sharpened ferns, chanting fields and

a moss of creatures creeping

to make sick these fantasies whispered

on our congealed beds of sweat raw chlorophyll...

the tale of the dead soldier lying beyond the night marsh -
he waits to join us again,

complete his final march.

* * * *** ***

my buddy treks behind me.
the day will not make him disappear.
his wet pores and clenched fists
secrete a secret will

to drag our bodies forth
to base camp.

never to arrive,
our desires liquify, blessing the ground
of our sacrifice.

picture courtesy of xiangxuan's account of ocs in facebook

heartspace

2009-02-08T08:33:00.014+08:00

heartspace. i joined this community sometime last year, wanting to devote more time to ecology (i got my zoo posting!) and art to balance life & work. we meet on sat mornings. begin with sharing and close with a prayer, sometimes through song, a line from scripture or just begin a day framed in silence. and then we disperse into our own corners and pick materials of our choice. the hours pass in a simple play of colours. are allowed to experiment with any medium we wish; acrylic, crayon, clay, chinese brush, charcoal...anything that helps our heart to speak. when all is done, we place our works (in progress), sit back, distance ourselves from our pieces and comment on each others' works. there is no judgement. no appraisal. no grading. just (he)art speaking to (he)art, trusting the Spirit to guide us.

over here, i find courage to exorcise an old burden and rechart other undiscovered lands. i remember failing art for o-levels and labelled myself as a failure in that field for so many years. i never picked it up again until i joined heartspace. and these are the works i still create...the first piece was done in less than 2 minutes...a hurried attempt not to waste ink...i ceased the need to control. and spontaneity led to its genesis. for the second piece...i did not know the painting could be inverted (without losing its coherence) until another member told me so! 7 months lapsed between the 2 pieces i drew. the same blue tree appeared and inked the link between them. i still do not know what the blue tree said.

others resurrect a memory or loved one who went away. some portraits emerge from the dark terrain of searching and prayer, to reclaim a lost promise you once held with open hands.

you don't come here wanting to be an artist. you come- open, wanting to understand the process of becoming yourself again. though many members happen to be christian, we also welcome persons from other faiths as well. one of our members happens to be a buddhist who brings a different reading of life in her sharing.

i guess we don't always have a ready answer or reason for everything we draw. and it is ok to feel that way.

the same for life, wonder, love, pain, dreams and mystery. we don't always know their origins or haunting appeal to our spirit and psyche. but we chase, run away or experience them anyway...our need to be human is a gift we long to behold and re-create.

www.joannatan.com/heartspace.htm

a lost key pouch

2009-02-06T22:31:00.012+08:00

i lost my keypouch last saturday evening. 3 keys to my personal drawers, an mart card loaded with $30 credit and $70. pouch was a gift from my sister last christmas and it smelled great in leather. i wrote my personal particulars on the card and pouch. any literate person would know how to return it. i woke early, took a bus and retraced my steps along shunfu road the next day. also alerted citicab, cold storage novena square and my friend for any possible trace or accidental recovery, just in case, in his place. still no news at this point of writing.

the following statements record the process of rationalisation that occurred within the week. so much for claiming to know myself so well.

Response A: i will try to ride on the spiritual assurance of a friend. she would pray. i too must pray. then i should trust God and await the miraculous appearence of my lost item. nothing lost, nothing broken- bible passage quoted in detail.

Response B: what if God answers 'no' in response? no further help for me. pouch does not appear. and never will. should i then lose my petty faith in God and trust him less?

Response C: believe it probably went to someone in greater need than me... maybe a poor family found it and decided to use it. mmmm..the amount would sustain their transport and daily needs for the next 2 weeks.

Response D:. still there is no need for them to do that, right? why can't they just take the card and money and return the rest to some police post? they could even call me and 'pretend' to be a good samaritan instead?

Response E:. why is God like that? why can't he even fulfil a simple prayer like this?

Response F: the economic crisis has hit alot of people. others have also lost a life, their loved ones or their jobs. what is a missing key pouch compared to other kinds of loss that people are facing? let go. com'on be grateful you even have a stable job in these hard times.

Response G: tsk....just be more alert next time, k? lesson learnt?

Response H: well, better to lose a key pouch and some cash than the handphone, an entire wallet (packed with ic, credit cards etc etc) or a passport! i am darn lucky coz it could have been worse!

there are other losses to come in life. one former student comforted me by claiming that one lost item hints of better tidings to come in one's life.

it is a tough 'act' trying to look on the bright side, to trust God (still) and not get overly entangled over the secular streak that is entwined within. i am quite a contradiction in terms- a social sceptic and spiritual optimist at the same time.

feb first: one life

2009-02-01T10:28:00.010+08:00

this is a simple birthday song that carries much meaning for me. thanks to all who dropped notes everywhere in virtual, electronic and physical space to wish and celebrate with me. have always wanted to compile photographs from birth to now, just to establish an existential cope to the ways i've been, struggled and grown. i will do this by year-end(?)... am still be-coming...be-holding what this one life may mean for others and me. maybe a line or two from cormay's song may also light a path inside your heart as you celebrate your own birthday sometime this year, even if it had just passed.
___________________________________________________________

"When I was a child, I used to talk as a child, think as a child, reason as a child; When i became an adult, I put aside childish things...

...In the same way, we see now, indistinctly, as in a mirror. But someday, we are going to see God in his completeness, face to face. At present, I know partially; then I shall know fully, as I am fully known..."

1 corith: 13: 11- 12

Have asked that these words (esp verse 12) be engraved on my stone the day i leave earth for heaven. Birthdays help me remember my origin, my beginnings and my end. In between are many slips, detours, quiet peaks and rich valleys that have marked one life with many lessons, much wisdom and alot of beauty. Thanks to all for being a part of my life...i've also come this far because of you. Am grateful we share this one life together, our lifetime, our grace to be.

tell me on a sunday

2009-01-27T22:20:00.013+08:00

am here every month on sat or sunday. i fulfil part of my childhood and undergrad dream- to study more about and handle live animals in a life-giving way... practise a little bit of zoology which i failed to take during my uni days.

that's a malayan stick insect. similar to the ones found in undisturbed forests over here. i get alot of fun getting visitors to spot them on the branch display. my guests register a childlike delight when they are able to identify these masters of disguise brought out for interaction and display.

that's my favourite queensland titan, found only in australia. harmless and defenceless, it rears its abdomen like a scorpion if disturbed. visitors hazard a good guess all the time. and the brave ones move on to put them on their shirts, caps or face. some adults squeal away but their children become their teachers on that appointed hour or so, they claim.

i spend these sundays unpacking the lore that hides in forest songs. we master terms like dimorphism, mimicry, parthenogenesis. live and play witness to the kid, tickling in us all.

red, lunar & ox

2009-01-27T07:08:00.013+08:00

i grew up with emblems related to most things chinese. every lunar new year brings its cache of auspicious sayings, with its vast semantic fields that draw material associations like wealth, prosperity, luck, credit, cash and all things gold and red to our elusive search for happiness. the chinese appear to speak an embroidered language that is deeply couched with meaning. phonetically, this allows speakers to acknowledge hierarchies of rank and file, intent and idea into lettered phrases that may be spoken elegantly in a line or two.

i used to resist the link; that one can be happy simply by receiving an endless accumulation of wealth. i was at one stage, critical of what i perceive to be the 'materialistic' foundations / 'philosophical assumptions' of the chinese way of defining 'goodwill' or 'lunar new year culture.' today, inverted commas mark the terms that sweep this entry. i am careful to bracket them as a way of confronting the relativity of such values inherited over the years. still, money isn't everything. i rather wish for good health, first- for myself, loved ones and friends so that we may continue to reflect and share generosity & goodness with those that come our way. of course, there will be moments when we would rather invest some of that on our personal search for happiness, be it temporal or eternal.

it brought to mind a text i read in uni; keith basso's Wisdom Sits In Places. an anthropologist who specialises in culture and linguistics, basso looked deep into the oral traditions. he identified deep structures in the language spoken by western apache indians and grew to understand their basis for naming places and using soundscapes or personal narratives to infuse spiritual or aspirational content on their own material spheres.

i guess material preoccupations have their place in most cultures. my race's depicted obsession with wealth (painted in homes, on streets and sewn on attire)is perhaps a fuzzy reflection of our own kindled pursuit of contentment and security. we word and speak our best intents, then press into colour the deep tidings we fail to grasp with our hands...

separate species

2009-01-27T06:46:00.005+08:00

common fruit bat / Cynopterus brachyotis
like colugos, bats are also mammals. however, they are fully capable of flight. other characteristics include

-Fox-like face, protruding jaw
-Short to non-existent tail
-Normal to large, dark eyes
-Ears are fully enclosed at the base
-Hair varies in thickness; generally short and fuzzy; front part of head, outer parts of limbs and wing membrane are generally bald.
-Skin is brownish with variation in hue and intensity
-Wings are usually dark with spotted patterns
-Teeth are generally 34 in number and do not fully close; the back molars are flat and wide and used for crushing soft fruits
-Long and agile tongue
-Hands have a small claw on the second fingers which are useful in ripping open fruits; this is a distinguishing factor between Fruit and Insectivorous Bats

adapted from: http://whozoo.org/students/dansch/fruitbat.htm

colugo / Malayan flying lemur- Cynocephalus variegatus
The term is a misnomer as colugos are not lemurs. neither do they fly. rather, they glide using their skin membranes. they have more fur than bats. they make use of their underside membranes to catch wind currents as they travel from tree to tree. this calls for incredible tact, a superior sense of approximation, judgement and availablility of wind currents to take them across distances. the one i saw happened to glide across a packed expressway- to the other far side of the road!

Cynocephalus variegatus

2009-01-22T19:59:00.009+08:00

7am. 21 jan. 2009. i was onboard 157 heading to college. it was crawling it way along lornie road. the empty lanes soon giving way to a sea of damp lights on either lanes. and the march of cars piling towards the city dawn. my bus paused at the bus-stop just opposite caldecott hill.

i saw it. something flew across the road just beyond my double-decked window...close to 400m away. it soared (glided?) above the peak traffic that was heading west. i thought it might be another sea-eagle or a hawk that strayed off its flightpath. and then, it gracefully latched onto a tree just beside a bus-stop.

and goodness me...it was a fairly large colugo indeed. i wasn't fast enough to take a snapshot with my phone-camera. but i stopped breathing, seriously.

http://www.wildsingapore.per.sg/discovery/factsheet/colugo.htm

that rare gem glided right above the traffic. what led it so near the edge of urban life? a nocturnal mammal, was it returning to its favourite tree, to nestle for the day ahead? it struck me that its home locale was ironically close to the very forces that seek to diminish its habitat & range.

one of singapore's rarest mammals, did the colugo also learn to adapt amid the noise and sprawl that pierce uncomfortably close to its forest home? we assume its numbers would decline or even become extinct altogether. our predictions may not be valid afterall.

my morning was broken bright with a colugo in flight. i feel canonized. my secret sight scores high on a scale of ten on ten. just an ordinary thursday on a humble bus to school, just feeling, all glowing, most blessed...

this night, me blessing

2009-01-18T21:30:00.012+08:00

i carry your heart with me(i carry it in my heart)
i am never without it (anywhere i go you go,my dear;and whatever is done by only me is your doing,my darling)

i fear no fate(for you are my fate,my sweet)
i want no world(for beautiful you are my world,my true)
and it's you are whatever a moon has always meant
and whatever a sun will always sing is you

here is the deepest secret nobody knows (here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud and the sky of the sky of a tree called life;which grows higher than soul can hope or mind can hide)
and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart
i carry your heart(i carry it in my heart)

ee cummings

that's a very raw setup of my new cubicle. i kept it neat this time. but since i cannot stand blank spaces and white walls, i picked the pictures that mean most to me on this journey to bring some colour and poetry to my new working life; i wanted to remember the classes that left more than a mere impression...their gratitude and joy that helped me to uncover and share my own. yes, students, people and classes come and go. still, one batch or two and sometimes more than a handful inspire us to remember them for life.

hopefully, our capacity to remember people, and celebrate moments will not just be applicable to teachers and students. there is alot more to life beyond the classroom- the friends that shelter us, the families that fed us and even travellers or strangers who make a brief transit in our lives, forgetting they have left an echo of their heartsongs behind.

I like Buechner's definition of the term:

Remember:

when you remmeber me, it means you have carried something of who i am with you, that i must have left some mark of who i am on who you are. It means that you can summon me back to your mind even though countless years and miles may stand between us. It means that if we ever meet again, you will know me. It means that even after i die, you can still see my face and hear my voice and speak to me in your heart.

For as long as you remember me, i am never entirely lost. When i am feeling most ghost-like, it's your remembering me that helps remind me that i actually exist. When i'm feeling sad, it's my consolation. When i'm feeling happy, it's part of the way i feel.

If you forget me, one of the ways i remember who i am will be gone. If you forget me, part of who i am will be gone.

"Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom," the good thief says said from his cross (Luke 23.42).

There are perhaps no more human words in all of Scripture, no prayer we can pray so well.

merton's prayer

2009-01-15T21:29:00.009+08:00

elaine wanted this to be read during her memorial mass...her brother kk, sent it to me. i recalled my own visits to the lawn cemetery at choa chu kang. the lessons learnt, the reflections gained, and of life that is found again-

Remember...

I will still be here
As long as you hold me
In your memory

I am the one star
That keeps burning so brightly
It is the last light to fade into the rising sun
I’m with you whenever you tell my story
For I am all I’ve done

Remember when you’re out walking
When the snow falls high outside your door
Late at night when you’re not sleeping
And moonlight falls across your floor

I am that one voice
In the cold wind that whispers if you listen
You’ll hear me call across the sky
As long as I still can reach out and touch you
Then I will never die

induction

2009-01-06T12:42:00.007+08:00

"Breathing the air of a world so new, almost alarming in rawness and temptation, never failed to invigorate him. Once beyond the warm glow of the bay, he saw forests untouched since Noah, shorelines beautiful enough to bring tears, wild food for the taking..."

toni morrison: a mercy

some of my colleagues who left college with me are embarking on fresh career paths of their own. morrison's excerpt brings to mind the decisions we made. i think of them often, colleagues who have over time become the friends i will and do miss. i wonder what vistas await us, how we will go about establishing a safe and free space to grow, as we express our desire to craft richer visions to life.

i prayed by my bed last night, and asked to receive confidence, joy and wisdom on my own journey, sustained by a steadfast spirit and the single direction born from the heart. i will like us to share this deep and simple grace in the different communities we may find ourselves in.

by rainer maria rilke: letters on life

'we make our way through everything like thread passing through fabric; giving shape to images we ourselves do not know...'

>

yearstart

2009-01-05T09:55:00.010+08:00

the skies offer their blue concourse of stars. make a wish...it's here, all there for the asking, in face of solitude and anxiety that new beginnings bring.

and shorewaves gather
sand grains from foam.
the bare humble feet
heading on a long walk
on a trail
wind through the heart of a year

blessing the end

2008-12-31T22:38:00.014+08:00

GOOD-BYE

A father with a scarf over her head hoists his 6 year old up on the first step of the school bus. "Good-bye," he says.

A mother on the phone with her first year college son has just bawling him out for his first grades. There is mostly silence at the other end of the line. "Well, good-bye, " the mother says.

When the teacher at the airport hears the announcement that his plane is starting to board, he turns to his class who is seeing him off. "I guess this is good-bye," he says.

The noise of the traffic almost drowns out the sound of the word, but the shape of it lingers on the old man's lips. He tries to look vigorous and resourceful as he holds out his hand to the other old man. "Good-bye." This time, they say it so nearly in unison that it makes them both smile.

It was a long time ago that the words God be with you disappeared into the word Good-bye, but every now and again, some trace of them still glimmers through.

TEARS

You never know what may cause them. The sight of the Atlantic Ocean can do it, or a piece of music, or a face you've never seen before. A pair of somebody's old shoes can do it. A horse cantering across the meadow at sundown. Almost any movie made before the great sadness that came over the world after the World War Two. The finale of a campfire or the end of a hard-won match. The final cheer given by your students surrounding you. Their simple song, and their last words of dedication. You can never be sure. But of this, you can be sure. Whenever you find tears in your eyes, especially unexpected tears, it is well to pay the closest attention...

thank you pioneer...

adapted from f. buechner:
whistling in the dark

The Nativity (luke 2: 1-20)

2008-12-25T08:37:00.010+08:00

by
john o' donohue

No man reaches when the moon touches a woman.
Even the moon leaves her when she opens
Deeper into the ripple in her womb
That encircles dark to become flesh and bone.

Someone is coming ashore inside her.
A face deciphers itself from water
And she curves around the gathering wave,
Opening to offer the life it craves.

In a corner stall of pilgrim strangers,
She falls and heaves, holding a tide of tears.
A red wire of pain feeds through every vein
Until night unweaves and the child reaches dawn.

Outside each other now, she sees him first.
Flesh of her flesh, her dreamt son safe on earth.

i offer the names and lives of all in need of your care this christmas, Lord. m, my friend, who struggles with her husband and family to care for their baby who cries in uncertain anguish in pain brought by cerebral palsy. another friend who has willed to love his father who lives daily with cancer. c, who is disappointed in not being able to conceive, her past haunting her newfound hope in you. still, i remember in faith the rest whose lives you delivered from harm with our prayers and brought relief and trust in their own time of dark tidings.

what does it mean for you, God to become Man? what does your own poverty reveal about the anguish we face? Lord, give us grace to see intimately, your place in our pain and suffering. Lord, may your humanity and providence bring deep peace and needed relief to the lives of your people who labour in tears to understand this imperfection, this mystery.

a song by dan fogelberg

2008-12-22T01:35:00.003+08:00

a song i would want to be played at the end of life...(my funeral in fact)...speaks for a space so wide it encompasses much of a journey i've shared and lived. a song sung for soldiers, teachers, friends, sons and fathers...here's a rare clip from fogelberg's concert. in a time when sophisticated remix and innovative music studios influence the making of music and 'britney-tunes' become a popular and forgettable fad, these bare compositions of soul withstand the test of time and continue to find anchor in other lives.

LEADER OF THE BAND by dan fogelberg

An only child
Alone and wild
A cabinet makers son
His hands were meant
For different work
And his heart was known
To none --
He left his home
And went his lone
And solitary way
And he gave to me
A gift I know I never
Can repay

A quiet man of music
Denied a simpler fate
He tried to be a soldier once
But his music wouldnt wait
He earned his love
Through discipline
A thundering, velvet hand
His gentle means of sculpting souls
Took me years to understand.

The leader of the band is tired
And his eyes are growing old
But his blood runs through
My instrument
And his song is in my soul --
My life has been a poor attempt
To imitate the man
Im just a living legacy
To the leader of the band.

My brothers lives were
Different
For they heard another call
One went to chicago
And the other to st. paul
And Im in colorado
When Im not in some hotel
Living out this life Ive chose
And come to know so well.

I thank you for the music
And your stories of the road
I thank you for the freedom
When it came my time to go --
I thank you for the kindness
And the times when you got tough
And, pap, I dont think i
Said i love you near enough --

The leader of the band is tired
And his eyes are growing old
But his blood runs through
My instrument
And his song is in my soul --
My life has been a poor attempt
To imitate the man
Im just a living legacy
To the leader of the band
I am the living legacy
To the leader of the band.

bid a heart to follow

2008-12-22T01:03:00.009+08:00

the rare theme song from the tv series 'beauty and the beast', first sung in 1987... retrieved, after years of seeking, thanks to utube. the lines from one of my favourite poems by ee cummings are interspersed within the lyrics;
sensing rain in a land of risk, trust and grief. the rich uncertainty of humanity taken afar by loss, and restored by love.

the same song is used to accompany a fitting & sensitive montage from Disney's cartoon version...

in memory: elaine hoo

2008-12-20T01:25:00.010+08:00

elaine,

we organised a memorial service for you this evening. your friends from afar joined us to remember the life you shared with us. your brother and mother flew in today from east malaysia. mom wept, her grief heavy & distraught, deepened with every thought of you. your brother shared the last stages of your journey with cancer. it came so suddenly. you left without us knowing. you kept faith till the end.

elaine, here was a simple service you wanted; we picked your favourite hymns-anthony on the keyboard, dennis with guitar and viktor with violin. kk shared your life in a eulogy. among your friends and family were buddhists, free-thinkers, presbyterians, methodists. it didn't matter...the chapel bore the loss and silence. we prayed with our Lord to support your brother and mother who still mourn for you. may your eternal rest in Christ give courage, comfort us on our journey home. till we meet again...

with love from 5th canticle choir
st mary of the angels

O GOD YOU SEARCH ME

O God, you search me and you know me.
All my thoughts lie open to your gaze.
When I walk or lie down you are before me:
Ever the maker and keeper of my days.

You know my resting and my rising.
You discern my purpose from afar,
And with love everlasting you besiege me:
In every moment of life or death, you are.

Before a word is on my tongue, Lord
You have known its meaning through and through,
You are with me beyond my understanding.
God of my present, my past and future too.

Although your spirit is upon me,
Still i search for shelter from your light.
There is nowhere on earth i can escape you.
Even the darkness is radiant in your sight.

For you created me and shaped me,
Gave me life within my mother's womb.
For the wonder of who I am I praise you:
Safe in your hands, all creation is made new.

B Farrell (adapted from psalm 139)

The Annunciation (luke 1: 26-38)

2008-12-19T13:18:00.007+08:00

Christmas...Cristesmessa -Festival of Christ-old english derivative- God becoming Man. God chose to be born of a Woman. The same God who chose a simple poor person to bear Him amid the squalor and shame of pre-marital birth. may the same canticle reach the lives of people everywhere who struggle with abandonment, confusion and possible loss on their journey this time of the year.

Cast from afar before the stones were born
And rain had rinsed the darkess for colour,
The words have waited for the hunger in her
To become the silence where they could form.

The day's last light frames her by the window,
A young woman with distance in her gaze,
She could never imagine the surprise
That is hovering over her life now.

The sentence awakens like a raven,
Fluttering the dark, opening her heart
To nest the voice that first whispered the earth
From dream into wind, stone, sky and ocean.

She offers to mother the shadow's child;
Her untouched life becoming wild inside.

by john o' donohue

sense, instinct & mystery

2008-12-18T01:41:00.003+08:00

I viewed these clips some years back. Left me in awe. Distorted my entire understanding of what constitues predator-prey relationships as it was traditionally taught in school. A recent foray into Masson's (1995) seminal work into animal emotions renewed my interest in ethology...a subject i would pursue if i were to relive my undergraduate journey again...this quote by the author merits a second thought...

"Animals cry. at least, they vocalize pain or distress and in many cases seem to call for help. Most people believe, therefore, that animals can be unhappy and also that they have such primal feelings as happiness, anger or fear...But there is a tremendous gap between the commonsense viewpoint and that of official science on this subject. By dint of rigorous training and great efforts of the mind, most modern scientists -- especially those who study the behaviour of animals -- have succeeded in becoming blind to these matters...Many scientists have avoided thinking about the feelings of animals because they have been frightened -- and realistically so--of being accused of anthropomorphism...If that can be disposed of as a false criticism, then the study of animal emotions can proceed on a scientific basis, freed from bogus fear."

(prologue to masson's text)

at last...

2008-12-16T16:14:00.001+08:00

lost and found

2008-12-09T08:29:00.006+08:00

A light wind went beyond my window,
and the trees swimming

in the golden morning air.

Last night for hours I thought

of a boy lost in a huge city,

a boy in search of someone

lost and not returning. I thought

how long it takes to believe

the simplest facts of our lives --

that certain losses are final,

death is one, childhood another:

It was dark and the house creaked

as though we set sail for

a port beyond darkness.

I must have dozed in my chair

and wakened to see the dims shapes

of orange tree and fig against

the sky turned grey, and a few

doves were moaning from the garden.

The night that seemed so final

had ended, and this dawn becoming

day was changing moment

by moment-- for now there

was blue above, and the tall grass

was streaked and blowing, the quail

barked from their hidden nests.

Why give up anything? Someone

is always coming home, turning

a final corner to behold the house

that had grown huge in absence

now dull and shrunken, but the place

where he had come of age, still

dear and like no other. I have

come home from being lost,

home to a name I could accept,

a face that saw all I saw

and broke in a dark room against

a wall that heard all my secrets

and gave nothing back. Now he

is home, the one I searched for.

He is beside me as he always

was, a light spirit that brings

me luck and listens when I speak.

The day is here, and it will last

forever or until the sun fails

and the birds are once again

hidden and moaning, but for now

the lost are found. The sun

has cleared the trees, the wind

risen, and we, father and child

hand in hand, the living and

the dead, are entering the world

philip levine

fireside

2008-12-04T02:33:00.006+08:00

"Love, like fire, can only reveal its brightness
On the failure and beauty of burnt wood."

phillippe jaccottet

now, i began to understand why campfires hold such simple significance for many of us...a hearth that gathers friends, warms the common chill and breaks into song, the close of another day. as fires burn, some are content merely to sit and listen to the cosy crackle that a blend of fire and burnt wood brings. fire, like most of earth's elements, carries a spiritual lore of its own. somehow, their traces bore deep into our own human longing.

what are the burnt woods in my life right now?
what loves have burnt so deep that what remains behind
may soon become light?

december first 2008

2008-12-01T21:34:00.009+08:00

we reflected on the profile of our college students during a recent staff retreat. these were some of the self-portraits they produced.

i don't want to become so jaded as to disregard these transitions that students go through. i don't wish to forget that i was once on the road and am still recharting other directions to a desired destiny.

all these years, the temptation is to abandon my north-star and set sail for regions that are true, only to my own bearings. i need to pause once more, not just because of advent but what my poor witness to Christ has become on this new journey. there are days when i could not even recognise myself anymore. i am a pilgrim for my own sake, no longer dependent on God for my present or future needs. i don't know why i have turned this way. perhaps, my current profession holds the key to unlock what i've shut.

Lord, every passing generation brings with it new dreams and hopes. help me to always remember what it means to journey with my students and to care for those i've been entrusted to guide and teach. may my doing become your form of giving so that we may experience the joy of new life by the different kinds of conflict or knowledge we meet or gain. teach me to rediscover the joy of teaching even as i leave familiar shores for the new...your voice becoming light as i seek beyond the shadows clouding my heart.

amen

i never knew: darth maul vs darth vader

2008-11-26T21:57:00.001+08:00

i like the ending best...somedays u wanna return to the past and re-create all that made it bright...

光良 + 品冠 - 朋友

2008-11-24T20:34:00.008+08:00

a friend introduced me to this song. its lyrics describe what some images at the heart of every friendship must look like: a simple rudder, a boat...you...us...the distance travelled...the directions made...our meeting...and parting, and the vocation you've taught me to carry for the path ahead...

i shall miss you, my friend...

night song

2008-11-24T15:37:00.011+08:00

advent nears. i've replayed this song many times as a prayer before bed. it deepens its connection to me these days, when i return to school each day to pack...feeling the cold coming and the faithful assurance from God that he walks ahead me, on the path he sets before me...

----song arranged by corrinne may----

In the bleak midwinter, frosty wind made moan,
earth stood hard as iron, water like a stone;
snow had fallen, snow on snow, snow on snow,
in the bleak midwinter, long ago.

Our God, heaven cannot hold him, nor earth sustain;
heaven and earth shall flee away when he comes to reign.
In the bleak midwinter a stable place sufficed
the Lord God Almighty, Jesus Christ.

Angels and archangels may have gathered there,
cherubim and seraphim thronged the air;
but his mother only, in her maiden bliss,
worshiped the beloved with a kiss.

What can I give him, poor as I am?
If I were a shepherd, I would bring a lamb;
if I were a Wise Man, I would do my part;
yet what I can I give him: give my heart.

Text: Christina G. Rossetti, 1830-1894
Music: Gustav Holst, 1874-1934

letters from faraway

2008-11-23T19:32:00.015+08:00

i am a hoarder.

i needed 3 days

...get myself exorcised of spirits...from irreverent memoirs and sentimental junk hiding in my cupboard.

here was a compartmentalised Past that needed release.

i never knew i could do it but i did.

i threw away-

1. several kgs of econs, hist and lit notes from my JC days(!!!)

2. 2 kg of theories, case studies and hypotheses from 4 years at uni

3. aged stuff such old lamp-stands, sweet bookmarks and oblique toys

4. unmentionable stacks of photo-albums (dumped with kitchen vegetables and wrapped with translucent plastic to prevent possible resales of my past on the quaint and collectibles market)

and

5. most shocking of all: letters, xmas cards and birthday notes from secondary friends whose whereabouts remain unknown & untouched.

still, i re-read as much as i could...shocked by the present transformation of desire and reality, the blighted outlook to what some parts of the past can mean to me today- half my body was spaced out 10 or even 15 years back to the schools i've attended...even as my eyes tried to make sense of ruins and apparitions from armydays . ahead of me, a trail of wonder is left behind by several snapshots taken at countless uni retreats and camps.

i feel dislocated with a few.

the optimist in me wants to remember the stark and honest textures in these letters; clauses, words and sentences that impart a deep blessing, waiting to be read, received and embraced again.

for every album / 'journal' that was discarded, i selected about 5-15 peculiar moments that captured the essence of an incident/ relationship or encounter...simple notes that ought to jolt my memory home should i be struck down with alzheimers in future. as always, some things resist the bin...a memory of landscapes, yellowed letters and messages that lift a weary heart. there was a reason why i kept them the last time i organised them into existence. many were handwritten, a handful were typed. had to remind myself that those were written on days when digital cameras and emails were practically non-existent; stamped simply with old stamps and dispatched from the same island, while others were mailed from distant lands & oceans away. you don't get such a feeling everyday when parts of your soul stays lodged in the past while another strains forth to stay connected to the present.

i saw in the letters kept, a sense of giving, care and effort between friends. they were articles of truth that mirrored what i appreciated most in my friends, or a span of time when we were privileged to be there. i note the way these letters were penned...a doddle (an occasional cactus, sketches of winged destinies, one sad clown or jabs of lightsabers) dabbled on a corner. on another, cursive words that still retain an eager spring of feeling or hope for something more to our narrow lives... i intent to return some to their authors, so we may have the pleasure of renewing our loss and lost dreams one long evening, someday.

this is my latest installation in my room. a $500 chestnut-oak shelf that will stop me from buying another book for the next 6 months / years (try me?). i was stunned to realise, only now, that my throwing, sorting and packing of junk and gems amount to more than just finding fresh & physical storage space- to sift the contents of one single life, making a choice to illuminate what is dead, and what remains.

--------------------------------------------

Another place, another life, another book,

we go on without a return ticket, on the trail

of the vanished song, the elusive lines unlocking

a whole library of meaing, our lives shelved

in comprehensive order, for us who will arrive

clothed in dust and dusk, to sit at the appointed desks

and pore over the pages, search out the tread

stringing together all arrivals and departures

which our hands will tell, over and over,

as if in prayer, as if in peace.

boey kim cheng: 'another place'

second home

2008-11-19T00:44:00.016+08:00

i never knew it was so hard to say goodbye...

i read the notes you've written-

on bright cardboards and binded reports

embracing the long hours we spent, hammering knowledge into shape

and the tedious research that revealed more about you

than the technical data you tried to understand.

unknown to you, each line seals these eight years whole.

and i think how long this journey's been-

to walk a trail i was confident i could never be lost.

these days i still find myself pretending

that a simple act of will
may hold back time,

distracting me from feeling afraid

to leave the common ground we shared.

be it false or honest dreaming

this constant affection will keep alive these years we shared,

help us revisit once more, the moment when courage taught us to find our separate freedoms again.

the remaining months will be strangely peaceful.

i pray we may soon find our own light,

to shine on each other for life,

even as the years draw close.

going after

2008-11-13T23:34:00.004+08:00

"The most terrifying loneliness is not experienced by everyone and can be understood by only a few. I compare the panic in this kind of loneliness to the dog we see running frantically down the road, pursuing the family car. He is not really being left behind, for the family knows it is to return, but for the moment in his limited understanding, he is being left alone, forever, and he has to run and run to survive..."

charles schulz

leaving, unsaid

2008-11-12T23:08:00.008+08:00

rilke writes that 'departures create a burden within our emotions.' i sensed traces of it today, attending the last mc retreat for the year. the pictures we've taken, perhaps for the last time, captured a moment we would remember forever; our laughter locked in recognition and lost again, in our hour of forgetfulness...

there are more words to be said. words i can't get right. that morning beside labrador beach ends too quickly...and we walk away, still looking for meanings which make us whole.

waylaid

2008-10-26T22:18:00.004+08:00

What is divinity if it can come

Only in silent shadows and in dreams?

...Things to be cherished like the thought of heaven?

Divinity must have within herself:
Passions of rain, or moods in falling snow;

Grievings in loneliness, or unsubdued

Elations when the forest blooms; gusty

Emotions on wet roads on autumn nights;

All pleasures and all pains, remembering

The bough of summer and the winter branch.

These are the measures destined for her soul.

wallace stevens: 'sunday morning'

1997

2008-10-23T00:11:00.004+08:00

rummaged through my old shelves and retrieved a note book from the past. written in 1997, the years spent in university... learning the taste of first loves and its sight and touch. the long yet fleeting hours which tranced and haunted me from the start...cummings echoes its tenderness best when he scripts it against the scentfalls of flower and rain and the hands that held the precious little left from those days... something still remains...

(i do not know what it is about you that closes
or opens: only something in me understands
the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses)
nobody:
not even the rain has such small hands...

e.e.cummings:
somewhere i have never travelled, gladly beyond

a trace of your life

2008-10-16T23:14:00.005+08:00

You are always there above me, and I rise toward you in my mind. I shall go beyond even this force which is in me, this force which we call memory, longing to reach out to you by the only possible means to to cling to you in the only way it is possible to cling to you...But where will the search lead me? Where am I to find you? If I find you beyond my memory, it means I have no memory of you. How, then, am I to find you, if I have no memory of you?

st augustine

writing within, from afar...

2008-10-13T00:02:00.005+08:00

i must, before i die, find some way to say the essential thing that is in me, that i have never said yet --- a thing that is not love or hate or pity or scorn, but the very breath of life, fierce and coming from far away, bringing into human life the vastness and fearful passionless force of non-human things...

bertrand russell (1888-1914)~ selected letters

october after

2008-10-12T00:35:00.015+08:00

when was the last time i said goodbye? i learnt as a child, when mom cried at grandpa's wake. years later, i returned to the cemetery for my uncle's burial. i stood, numbed in grief when cousin's body was brought to mandai last october. my aunts lean with their hands on the glass which separate our lives from his'. i never forget the wails that pierced the air, when his coffin moved to the furnance, never to be seen again. at sixteen, blackie was hauled to the pound. and no one told me so. i promised not to let bobby undergo the same fate. he lived his last life, riddled with cataract & paw cancer. at twenty-four, i put bobby to sleep. he never knew why. i held bobby tight even as he lay shocked...the whines...his cry... asking, why? at twenty-four, i wept bitterly as bobby laid limp on my arms. i allowed my own friend to die.

i visited my grandma who lived alone. a week before i left for melbourne. i remembered how she waved her wrinkled hands from the fifth floor even as her tired eyes strained to see me go. i walked and left a part of my soul behind...a trail re-opened within my heart to retrieve our past when she walked the kampung dirt road at six in the morning and boarded the schoolbus with me. the empty lessons went but she waited patiently in the canteen as i finished my paltry food and carried me home.

a different kind of death and parting lies ahead. eight years in waiting... like late autumn leaves falling, near the edge of winter. every leaf has a life and story. a single chair sits in the corner of this poem. behind, a setting sun. it waits for meaning. an unmarked hour, another chance, to say goodbye.

to pioneer alumni....

2008-10-08T22:58:00.002+08:00

dear folks...we have not forgotten you. you bear within you many personal chapters of college history and your own experiences ........do participate in this and help us complete our tapestry if keen....i trust in your support

Student Handbook 2009 will feature quotes and photos from our students, alumni and staff. This will help archive our thoughts and memories as we approach our 10th year. The quote could be your personal life philosophy, advice you want to give to pioneers, a memory from your JC days, what you learnt or gained from your life at PJC etc. You do not need to restrict yourself to one quote as you may want to share a memorable moment and an inspiring quote etc. For the photo, please submit a moment captured of your PJC days -- something unusual, funny, cute or expresses something -- a moment, a scene, an artistic piece -- rather than the usual 'class-group' photos. The photos will be printed in black-and-white or sepia and not in colour. Please submit your photo/quote with your FULL NAME AND CLASS and (if you are alumni) WHAT YOU ARE DOING NOW (e.g. university, year and course of study OR occupation/company to pioneersh10@gmail.com. We reserve the right to edit your quote or crop your photo depending on the layout of the page.

refuge

2008-09-27T17:46:00.002+08:00

If we were not so single-minded

about keeping our lives moving

and for once could do nothing,

perhaps a huge silence

might interrupt this sadness

of never understanding ourselves

and of threatening ourselves

with death.

Perhaps the earth can teach us

as when everything seems dead in winter

and later proves to be alive.

Now I'll count to twelve

and you keep quiet and I will go.

pablo neruda

meant to be

2008-09-19T00:06:00.003+08:00

Each man is haunted until his humanity awakens...

william blake

5th canticle in song

2008-09-16T20:05:00.011+08:00

5th Canticle Choir...

Church of St Mary's of the Angels, Singapore

http://www.stmary.sg/

in dedication to adeline and adrian on their birthdays...

hey...i wasn't joking when i said i'll sing with all of you till the day i drop dead and die. it's been close to 8 years. i joined way back in 2000. freshly enslaved in work...withdrawn and cornered myself in church. grew cynical of empty alleluias and 'praise till the break of day' jolly molly emotionally invincible groups. somehow, i led myself forth with your music...not knowing why but for certain, moved by your quiet devotion to Christ.many have come and gone, rejected the routines of every passing year. i looked back, still shocked and surprised i stayed behind. by the way, we were down to 3 at one stage. but we hung on, prayed like crazy, asked God to send more members to grace his harvest of song....there was little to disappoint us. in time, several trodded by. started with law and jo and many more of you. we now become captives of our own joy...taste and see the goodness of simple friendship, lost in moments especially when we gather for easter feast. ..... you know something? i learn to laugh again at the silliest little things around corners of my bright forgotten world. together, you help awaken the last flush of light from person to person, once unnoticed, now rekindled.every sunday becomes quite complete by itself. you turned my voice home. and the memory of age-old hymns learns to shine like an unspoken prayer...our hands joining, our choral breaking, our common bread at the close of day.

the only life you could save

2008-09-12T11:11:00.006+08:00

i like to think this poem precedes the previous entry...ziz, kristy, shang, astro, jolene, regina, john loh (any more?) who have gone overseas for their tertiary studies...

for you :)

The Journey

One day you finally knew

what you had to do, and began,

though the voices around you

kept shouting

their bad advice --though the whole house

began to tremble

and you felt the old tug at your ankles.

"Mend my life!"each voice cried.

But you didn't stop.

You knew what you had to do,

though the wind pried

with its stiff fingers at the very foundations,

though their melancholy was terrible.

It was already late enough,

and a wild night,

and the road full of fallen branches

and stones.

But little by little,

as you left their voices behind,

the stars began to burn

through the sheets of clouds,

and there was a new voice

which you slowly recognized

as your own,

that kept you company

as you strode deeper and deeper

into the world,

determined to do the only thing you could do

-determined to save

the only life you could save.

~ mary oliver ~dream work

2 former students...doing law in london

2008-09-12T10:00:00.012+08:00

i remember them for different reasons.

shang chatted non-stop when he visited the college library back in 2000. amused me with his highly articulate, somewhat stubborn relentless pursuit of knowledge and stinging critique of singapore's education system. he knew what he was in for though he was only 16 then. one of my finest students who kept discussions going even though the entire class was dead like a mortuary. incidentally, shang always topped gp and escaped certain execution when he admitted writing close to 10 pages on the possibility of the 3rd world war in the a-levels gp exam. obtained a rare distinction for that innocent stunt. his intellectual passion must have got him away. he applied for law , got rejected twice but grew to understand he will never be happy with ntu's mass com. he would not settle for less. fought one more time and entered law on his third try. now tackling comparative legal studies on an exchange programme in London. his blog http://shangjun.blogspot.com/ details his journey.

i know he's happy :)

aziz didn't quite fit into his arts class. some judged that he was arrogant. but none knew he was diving into in a zillion community involvement projects which were not even accredited by the college. like me, he loved the outdoors and mastered rock-climbing, diving, mountain trekking and other height-defying stunts straight after his As. never knew him well till we met up for drinks and runs separately after the exams. discovered he was a much misunderstood soul who was far too mature for his peers. ziz was the top arts student that year but still, did not manage to get a place in law (what is wrong with our law faculty?!?). well, he just left for better shores, this time to UCL (ironically better ranked, i was told!) for legal studies. he said he will change. i know that will be (delightfully) inevitable. and it is good.

2 lawyers in the making....and many many others whose lives i've been privileged to share and know. having taught them was only a fraction of the story. .. being a part of their formative search helps me experience a deeper sense of pride for what what they will eventually discover in another land... letting themselves be found along the way.

There is only the fight to recover what has been lost

And found and lost again and again; and now, under conditions

That seem unpropitious. But perhaps neither gain nor loss.

For us, there is only the trying. The rest is not our business..

t.s eliot: east coker

regional animalities

2008-09-08T21:41:00.014+08:00

the above title came from a paper which was featured in Focas (2007); a forum on contemporary art and society. many papers presented in this journal catered to issues and topics dealing with the role of fauna and its socio-political representations in asian societies. it took a leap of faith to turn back the clock and recall the exact period my association with animals first began...it started with keeping pets which took on an insatiable pace whenever i have enough place or space to call my own...

these are among the various spendid (exotic, for want of a better word) creatures i've kept as pets since i was a child...i could have been a low-brow curator if i had my way. you'll never catch me alive with goldfish or guppies...i think they lack personality. the ones who have left the deepest impression...

any dogs will do (feral, pedigree, mongrel), an uncommon cat, soft-balled rabbits, incestuous hamsters, tiny white mice, earthy earthworms, vegan beetles, temperamental lungfish, wasteful piranhas, bloated electric catfish, stunning swamp eel, albino african clawed frogs, siamese fighting fish, elegant water stick insects, paddling water boatman, mandarin salamander, japanese newts, chirpy budgies, arrogant mynah, bright golden oriole, praying mantis, grey doves, bullfrogs, red crabs, adaptable mudskippers (mine lived on fresh water for over a month!), slimy caecilians, and tens of hundreds of other aquarium fish species...except for each of my dogs, it never struck me to record a picture of them each time they arrive, live, die or go away (my first hamster is still listed in the missing rodents list since 1984!)...

other wild ambitious hopes have since colonised my dreams-

volunteering at the zoo rekindles my deep-seated interest (from young) to further explore the lives and habitats of animals. if there is a way to understand our animal archetypes, i wonder what will our choice of favourite animals reveal about the aspirations, values or personalities we live by? manatees, sloth, giraffes and hippos are among my favourites so far. common traits; slow, languid, gentle unless provoked (except manatees). selective of the company they keep, they value their solitude and don't quite believe in taking life on the fast lane.. i caught the sloth for the first time during practice training at the zoo last weekend. it came so close the divisons parted and i saw it up close...tussling with the malayan flying foxes in their eager jostle for long beans, bananas, carrots and fruits...inexplicable moves... and i was in awe.

a poem by w.s merwin celebrates this sacred kinship witnessed that day.

witness

I want to tell what the forests were like

I will have to speak

in a forgotten language

docent 2008

2008-09-01T22:58:00.014+08:00

i've been committing most weekends for the zoo docent (latin: to teach ) course held in the singapore zoo for the past 3 months. exams (mcq and short response!!!) are due this sun...need to know everything about rainforests and out of desperation, even dug out my niece's pictorial encyclopedia (for children!) for some good old-fashioned knowledge-chomping. it's been donkey-years since i took my last exam...and the skills are all lost...fancy teaching students how to manage their own stress and now, fumbling on my own...the zoo invested big-time on us volunteers and i'm thrilled to be able to conduct my own guiding walks and live-specimen handling sessions (mostly giant stick insects and caterpillars (yes, i conquered my phobia for walking prickly marshmellows) for visitors. the archer-fish are for taking too.just ask for free live crickets from the keepers..i'll be manning the mangrove tank soon! i thoroughly enjoy getting behind the scenes to be in close contact with rare and endangered species which would otherwise be out of bounds to all vistors. for example, i learnt that these giant aldabra tortoises do grunt and hiss when pissed and are not to be trifled with...but that what's they hope for. except for one temperamental female (ahem) the ones i fed enjoy having their patted, or their necks scratched when they eat. shocking to know they were almost hunted for extinction by early explorers enroute to africa during early 19th century.we dabbled in insect preservation last week...csi on a mini scale. thank God i took on a scorpion where there was less goo to extract from its thorax. my mates at the other end had to pull out unlaid eggs from a giant tree nymph which smelled like a cold blend of sour poo, over-riped durian and crushed gecko faeces. the sharp scent of yesteryears punctured the air in the form of unspeakable milky substances that oozed from insertions made on soft swollen abdomens...the smell of entomology was tremendous. everyone wanted to stay away from the hissing cockroaches of madagascar...we learn to breathe on ozone-friendly air fresheners that day. still, the awesome sight of a mounted rhinocerous bettle in flight made the effort all worthwhile...i didn't fix this, of course. this giant is one of the strongest bugs in the animal kingdom able to lift " up to 80 times its own weight...equivalent to a human carrying 80 cars...." more truths lie ready to be unpacked in the weeks ahead...people, come visit if u happen stroll by on a weekend !

reunion on teachers' day 2008

2008-08-30T03:15:00.019+08:00

we bumped into 3 of our former students, zong (00S22-class of 2000), joanna and valane (01A03-class of 2001) on teachers' day dinner last night where 2 schools held their staff dinners in the same hotel. a chance-miracle closing the years that time set for us.

of course we were 'shocked' to discover they have become teachers themselves. the 3 former pioneers are now serving in clementi town secondary doing the same subjects, literatures in english (they still use our notes!) we taught them so long ago...while zong took the rare combo of music and history. that same morning, shawn and hui (04A04-class of 2004) came by and met the tired lot of us...and in a second, helped us look between the past and present space and the gift of self which they unknowingly carried along.

morning breaks. along the same corridor. and the night was just the close of another simple day. but we paused a little longer to capture moments that kept our vocation alive with meaning...the colleagues who have become lifelong friends...the same students who used to vex us return once more to bless the lives we led...unknown to all, each played a part to help us weather the difficult & unspoken moments in this profession. these pictures reflect some of the songs we penned. we expect you to take them away...never to return. we were happy to write them just for you, so that you can set them free, and move on to discover your own place in the widening channels of the open sea... but now and then, you still return to the same shore of your first dream, if only to say "i remember and hey 'cher'...thanks for everything..." that grace alone is sufficient for me...

one ride for a lifetime

2008-08-27T23:22:00.002+08:00

credo one-

we carry on being young & nubile just hours of our birth. as toddlers, we make new myths of our own. we climb to the summit just above our teenage years only to catch the ride of our lives, heading the thrill of adulthood, far away from the sombre thought of staying still....

credo two-

"doesn't everything die at last, and too soon?
tell me, what is it you plan to do
with your one wild and precious life?"

mary oliver: The Summer Day

void and expectancy

2008-08-20T23:13:00.010+08:00

dedicated to shangjun (class of 2002) and aziz (class of 2005) who leave this month and next for uk to deepen their pursuit of law...also, to recent batches who are just beginning their term in uni. be not afraid to embrace the unknown. you've done your work and know what's coming. welcome this time of renewal and rebirth planned just for you :)someone once compared the long journey to life and growth to that of trapeze artists...their leap in faith mirror the same movements into the unknown, open to what it may bring while confident they have done enough work to know the risks and rewards that await them...

"One of the difficulties in moving out of the familiar is the temptation to close off the full drama of change before it ripens. The sense of being bereft of all that is familiar is a vacuum which threatens to suck up everything within its reach.

What is hard to appreciate, when terror shapes a catastrophic gap, is that this blankness can be a fertile void. The fertile void is an existential metaphor for giving up the familiar supports of the present and trusting the momentum of life to produce new opportunities and vistas.

The arcobat who swings from one trapeze to the next knows just when he must let go. He gauges his release exquisitely and for a moment, he has nothing going for him but his own momentum. Our hearts follow his arc and we love him for risking the unsupported moment...

Erving & Miriam Polster

Gestalt Therapy Integrated