2 former students...doing law in london

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

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

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

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

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

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

another exhausted concept?

Work-life balance. Secular mantra. A slogan of the civil service. Religious infiltration as a means of tempering the sinful damning profit motives in work..... Its origins remain dense. Its effects...deeply seeded into Singapore's daily life.


An adage goes that 'Singaporeans live to work while others work to live'... a phrase often used to ascertain or to compare with the quality of life in other countries (like Finland or Australia) when work-life balance is valued above all else. One senses a premium placed on achieving integration between body, mind, relationships and soul. And not all of us will have the opportunity to attain this ideal life. Perhaps, we has to live long within these cultures to determine this truth for ourselves. Much is also dependent on the personalities, attitudes and even the type of job you hold. Poverty rate remains a masked concept in many states. For some, it will be lodged as an inner spiritual struggle for a lifetime.

I recall what it was like to miss the daily grind of work during my stay in hospital...learning what it means to experience an ascent of will; not to take the mobile life for granted again upon discharge. I missed the little things; the mad rush of wearing the shoes of an accountant, event organiser, tutor, counsellor, friend, gardener, dispatch rider, secretary, mentor, manager, policeman, social worker, advertiser all in a day. That's teaching for you these days, no longer a chalk and board (or rather whiteboard and marker) kind of single-stranded existence.

The superficial struggle in many able folks like us is to try and achieve an overt command of their lives while neglecting the intensities that shape the course of our inner outlook and the deep blueprint of our very existence. I willed never to lose sight of reality, to find congruence in what i think, say and do and to value the creative & generative space that healthy solitude and relationships bring amid the rich tussle between proximity and distance that life & living necesitates.

"Get up cheerfully on days you have to work, if you can. And if you can't what keeps you from doing so? Is there something heavy that blocks the way? What do you have against the heaviness and difficulty? That it can kill you?

So it is powerful and strong. This much you know about it. And what do you know about things that are light and easy? Nothing. We have no memory whatsoever of that which was easy and light. So even if you could choose, ought you not actually choose what is difficult? Don't you feel how it is related to you? And are you not in agreement when you make this choice? Don't you think a little sapling would have an easier time by staying in the soil? Things that are light and things that are heavy don't actually exist. Life itself is heavy and difficult. And you don't actually want to live? Then you are mistaken in calling it your duty to take on difficulties. It's your survival instinct that pushes you to do it. So, what is duty then? It is duty to love what is difficult...You have to be there when it needs you."

rainer maria rilke

06S11- finding home

we believed a bumboat would take us home. sat on the back where the thrill of wild winds and seaspray make us remember our first lessons all over again...the lost company we knew we missed but never said.
our lives are washed by the the soft fall of rain. something in us learns to live again. an unassuming truth revealed in the smiles that point to home. a second chance to listen and receive that rare peace again.

exodus

i fought hard to keep you within my sight. the years of distant wandering, the roads that walked me home to you. i struggled then to be conscious of the bigger picture you drew (are still drawing) for me, using the dust and ashes of my dreams, ideals and fantasies. lord, i guess i continue to believe even if i know not how or why...but i find a long-lost peace in this newfound place. amid the long desert that lies ahead, meister eckhart penned these lines to describe his own walk and relationship, in loving you...

"God is like a person who clears his throat while hiding

and so, gives himself away..."

+

To be commanded to love God at all, let alone in the wilderness, is like being commanded to be well when we are sick, to sing for joy when we are dying of thirst, to run when our legs are broken. But this is the first and great commandment nonetheless. Even in the wilderness - especially in the wilderness - you shall love him.

frederick buechner

sacred frontier

humanity & eternity

God weeps with us so that we may one day laugh with him...

jurgen moltmann






Those who have known pain profoundly are the ones most wary of uttering the cliches about suffering. Experience with the mystery takes one beyond the realm of ideas and produces finally a muteness or at least a reticence, to express in words, the solace that can only be expressed by an attitude of union with the sufferer.


john howard griffin

another day

Here dies another day

during which I have had eyes, ears and hands

and the great world around me

and tomorrow begins another.

Why am I allowed two?

g.k.chesterton

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

some colleagues offered to fetch me to school. without me asking. principal gave me a home class to teach so that i would not have to walk too far down the aisle. other teachers and students asked about my condition and helped me carry my books and files along to class. there was a handwritten note from another councillor who wished me well. another sent a mini-pot of plants to cheer my table...i could trust you lord with the care of my little life and have a chance to experience human care through each of them. it is hard to say goodbye to a place that has become a second home to me.

night is falling, lord...i am uncertain about the road ahead. but i rest tonight, knowing my life is held and supported by strong and assuring hands, not just yours' but the care and availability given by my loved ones and friends.

at the end of an intensively lived day, i am happy that i have this gift for even one day- your gift of life. of prayer and the relationships that bind us together. thank you for the love of family and friends. all whom you brought into my life...

soulspeak

it was my first trip to town in more than 3 months...took a taxi after my acupuncture at nuh...rekindled a lifelong delight in burrowing through the book shelves once more. i could spend an entire day at kinokuniya.

i picked a title entitled "IF - Questions for the Soul." it struck that i spend much of my waking time meddling and settling affairs which may not necessarily matter on my death-bed. what matters most perhaps are questions or directives i delay apprehending because i harbour a high degree of over-confidence towards my own mortality.

here are the 5 questions that tested my heart...

IF you could make certain that your parents knew one thing before they died, what would it be?

IF you were to choose your own pallbearers, who would they be?

IF you were to write your own epitaph today, what would it say?

If you died and could look back on your life, what is the one thing you think you will miss the most?

IF you could focus more energy on one part of your life, what would it be?

as much as many of these statements deal directly with death, any attempts made to work my response to answering them strangely gives me life.

a little note to the lord

you are beginning to whisper near the place
where i lay my head to sleep.
this language is new. a mix of invitations between my soul and you
a door is opened whenever a sharp and silent string
pulls

and swiftly makes taut the veins that nourish that bulb of pain.
there are strange days when i wanted to saw
my tender tendon nerves into 2.

lord, does pain engender greater trust in you?
once, your salvific acts brought me strength.
your bearing of cross, flagrum and hyssop were perfect metaphors
for my catholic depth. physicality was what i sought.
these consoling sacramental parts of gospel truth enabling
mere human handicaps to become extraordinary
long-suffering happy saints.
do you remember the naive volumes of notes i used to pen,
in memory of you?

i can now sit still and demolish in perfect peace
these old blocks of archaic theology.
i fold old (copious) diaries into paper boats and moor them away.
find delight in holy darkness as their white lights set
sail to indifferent seas.

saying this, i sense a storm would break and make me cold,
still nothing came forth. a somnolent sky stretches,
to stare on me.
i have become a subtle brute in the way i pray.
but i see your smile, lord.

and you return this evening

to carry me,

ruffle my hair

and kiss my cheek.

poem before bed

i saw an elegiac portrait of my(self) in these lines today...the transformation of what the two years have brought, not just the period of hospitalisation recently spent away from home...a placid read before bed.Nothing is Lost

Deep in our sub-conscious, we are told
Lie all our memories, lie all the notes
Of all the music we have ever heard
And all the phrases those we loved have spoken,
Sorrows and losses time has since consoled,
Family jokes, out-moded anecdotes
Each sentimental souvenir and token
Everything seen, experienced, each word
Addressed to us in infancy, before
Before we could even know or understand
The implications of our wonderland. There, they all are, the legendary lies
The birthday treats, the sights, the sounds, the tears
Forgotten debris of forgotten years
Waiting to be recalled, waiting to rise
Before our world dissolves before our eyes
Waiting for some small, intimate reminder,
A word, a tune, a known familiar scent
An echo from the past when innocent
We looked upon the present with delight
And doubted not the future would be kinder
And never knew the loneliness of night.

noel coward (1899-1973)