I've haven't felt so helpless in a long while. Retail therapy and my daily routine have been comforting and give me a measure of control, but the real problem remains. I'd almost convinced myself that I'd moved on, and it was only recently that I realised I haven't, after all.
For the past half a year or so, I prayed and prayed and told myself to keeping trusting in the Lord; it's the first time since my conversion in 2003 that I felt my faith has been seriously shaken. I was losing faith, much as I hated to admit it.
But today I apologised to Him during mass - I told him I was sorry, and I really meant it. Earlier in the day, I'd already felt the homily during the novena was speaking to me, telling me that as baptised Christians we should not despair. Then came the "message" of the mass: love. And in line with this, the post-Communion hymn was I Love You Lord. Not since before my conversion, when I heard Servant Song, has a hymn moved me so deeply. It reminded me of my baptism, of the commitment I made to love Him, of the love He has lavished on me - things that I tried to tell myself every time I started to doubt Him but somehow failed to really register till then.
I Love You Lord.
REFRAIN:
I love the Lord, He is filled with compassion.
He turned to me on the day that I called.
From the snares of the dark, O, Lord, save my life,
Be my strength.
Gracious is the Lord, and just.
Our God is mercy, rest to the weary.
Return my soul to the Lord our God who bids tears away.
I love the Lord. (REFRAIN)
How can I repay the Lord for all the goodness He has shown me?
I will raise the cup of salvation and call on His name.
I love the Lord. (REFRAIN)
I shall live my vows to You before Your people,
I am Your servant.
I will offer You my sacrifice of praise and of pray'r.
I love the Lord. (REFRAIN)
From the snares of the dark, O, Lord, save my life,
Be my strength.
From the snares of the dark, O, Lord, save my life,
Be my strength…
Sunday, October 26, 2008
Saturday, April 12, 2008
Music and Zhang Zhen Yue
Listening to Zhang Zhen Yue's songs now, the memories of his unplugged concert at the Esplanade almost two months ago come flooding back. He has never been one of my favourite singers, so I put it down to a bout of nostalgia when I decided on a rather last-minute whim to attend the concert. After all, I have "witnessed" his transformation from a newbie pop singer to a respected but often controversial rock artiste.
But I must say it was a decision I didn't regret - despite being unfamiliar with his newer songs, it was soothing listening to his trademark love ballads and fun tapping my feet and clapping - sometimes even swaying - to his rock and rap tunes. (It may be an unplugged concert, but it wouldn't be authentic Zhang Zhen Yue if he didn't sneak in a few of his less saccharine numbers!)
Thinking about it now, however, it may not be pure sentimentality that prompted me to turn up for the concert. Ah Yue is a singer with distinctive vocals who warbles with attitude - reminding me somewhat of Rene Liu, who may not have excellent technique but speaks to the listener through her songs, or Guang Liang, whose voice is not fantastic but somehow has a very earnest quality that draws the listener.
Ah Yue's voice is pure, his delivery sincere, and his songs - many of which are composed by him - seldom boring. In fact, I think he is possibly most similar in style to sodagreen's lead singer Qing Feng, of whom I am also quite a fan. It is probably for reasons such as these that Ah Yue has had such considerable staying power in the notoriously fickle Chinese music scene.
But I must say it was a decision I didn't regret - despite being unfamiliar with his newer songs, it was soothing listening to his trademark love ballads and fun tapping my feet and clapping - sometimes even swaying - to his rock and rap tunes. (It may be an unplugged concert, but it wouldn't be authentic Zhang Zhen Yue if he didn't sneak in a few of his less saccharine numbers!)
Thinking about it now, however, it may not be pure sentimentality that prompted me to turn up for the concert. Ah Yue is a singer with distinctive vocals who warbles with attitude - reminding me somewhat of Rene Liu, who may not have excellent technique but speaks to the listener through her songs, or Guang Liang, whose voice is not fantastic but somehow has a very earnest quality that draws the listener.
Ah Yue's voice is pure, his delivery sincere, and his songs - many of which are composed by him - seldom boring. In fact, I think he is possibly most similar in style to sodagreen's lead singer Qing Feng, of whom I am also quite a fan. It is probably for reasons such as these that Ah Yue has had such considerable staying power in the notoriously fickle Chinese music scene.
Sunday, February 24, 2008
Road to recovery
It has been a month since I first learnt of the news that I'd lost my baby. I'd wanted to put down my feelings earlier as a way of achieving some form of catharsis, but it was difficult, especially in the first few days, when the emotions were still too raw.
The gynae said the foetus had stopped developing, but he couldn't pinpoint the reason. He said miscarriages are very common during the first trimester - about 1 in 6 pregnancies - and it was most likely due to genetic abnormality of the sperm or egg. That's not exactly very helpful towards getting closure, but it did make me feel slightly better - I think I needed to know that it was not my fault.
The late-night crying whenever I thought of the life that was lost - the life that C and I created - has stopped, and I can talk about the incident calmly in front of family and close friends. But I still feel lost and directionless, as if that which had given my future purpose has been taken away from me. And I struggle to fill the emptiness and meaninglessness left behind - with books, J-dramas and Ebay.
But thankfully, I still have C, my source of strength and comfort during this time. He and I grieve in different ways, but I know he has tried his best to be patient with me. Although this is an experience I would not wish on anyone, I do feel it has actually brought us closer to each other and deepened our relationship.
It will take some more time yet - but I know I will recover from the pain eventually, with the help of God and those who love me.
The gynae said the foetus had stopped developing, but he couldn't pinpoint the reason. He said miscarriages are very common during the first trimester - about 1 in 6 pregnancies - and it was most likely due to genetic abnormality of the sperm or egg. That's not exactly very helpful towards getting closure, but it did make me feel slightly better - I think I needed to know that it was not my fault.
The late-night crying whenever I thought of the life that was lost - the life that C and I created - has stopped, and I can talk about the incident calmly in front of family and close friends. But I still feel lost and directionless, as if that which had given my future purpose has been taken away from me. And I struggle to fill the emptiness and meaninglessness left behind - with books, J-dramas and Ebay.
But thankfully, I still have C, my source of strength and comfort during this time. He and I grieve in different ways, but I know he has tried his best to be patient with me. Although this is an experience I would not wish on anyone, I do feel it has actually brought us closer to each other and deepened our relationship.
It will take some more time yet - but I know I will recover from the pain eventually, with the help of God and those who love me.
Friday, December 28, 2007
Death and dying
In the office yesterday, we were on course to calling it a night early when news of the assassination of former Pakistan premier Benazir Bhutto reached us. It caused a major rejig of the pages as we scrambled to put in the reports.
Of course I don't know her personally, but I couldn't help but feel a twinge at the shocking news of her death. I've been seeing her appear in the papers almost every other day in the run-up to the Pakistan elections and even subbed a number of stories written about her, so she's not exactly a total stranger.
The report, combined with the news I received earlier in the day about a former student of mine who died in his sleep on Christmas Day, served to fill my head with thoughts of death and dying. My ex-student was only in Primary Five this year, and he could be considered a "model" student with a strong sense of responsibility. I couldn't imagine how his parents must feel.
Death, when it comes, is swift and sudden for some of us, catching us unawares. Bhutto may have been prepared to risk death when she returned to Pakistan, but surely my ex-student could not have known that he would go to sleep without waking up the next day. And what regrets, if any, would they have?
I hope that my death, when it comes, will be swift and painless. Like them, I may not know in advance when the day arrives, but I do know that although I will feel upset at having to be separated from my loved ones and sad over tasks left unaccomplished or unfinished, I will leave with no regrets, because I have loved and been loved.
Of course I don't know her personally, but I couldn't help but feel a twinge at the shocking news of her death. I've been seeing her appear in the papers almost every other day in the run-up to the Pakistan elections and even subbed a number of stories written about her, so she's not exactly a total stranger.
The report, combined with the news I received earlier in the day about a former student of mine who died in his sleep on Christmas Day, served to fill my head with thoughts of death and dying. My ex-student was only in Primary Five this year, and he could be considered a "model" student with a strong sense of responsibility. I couldn't imagine how his parents must feel.
Death, when it comes, is swift and sudden for some of us, catching us unawares. Bhutto may have been prepared to risk death when she returned to Pakistan, but surely my ex-student could not have known that he would go to sleep without waking up the next day. And what regrets, if any, would they have?
I hope that my death, when it comes, will be swift and painless. Like them, I may not know in advance when the day arrives, but I do know that although I will feel upset at having to be separated from my loved ones and sad over tasks left unaccomplished or unfinished, I will leave with no regrets, because I have loved and been loved.
Sunday, October 7, 2007
On relationships
Some time ago, a friend asked me some questions on love and relationships that got me to thinking about the key to lasting relationships. How does one know that one has already found The One or that no one better will come along? Or is there even The One to begin with?
I used to want to believe in this idea of a perfect soulmate, but over the years I have become more ambivalent. We all hope to find someone with whom we can click or connect with instantly, whom we feel can look into the depths of our soul. But the reality may be that even if we do manage to find this special person, we may not end up together.
Whether or not two people who are attracted to each other eventually end up together, I think, is dependent upon a confluence of factors such as whether both parties are able to communicate with each other, commit to each other, and can see themselves with each other.
Once the special someone is found, I think one needs to make a conscious decision to commit to that person. I used to believe when I was younger that love conquers all, that true love should be able to withstand all tests. But I have since come to realise that man is by nature imperfect, and even what is considered the truest love can be and must be vulnerable. Thus it is folly, I feel, to court temptation or attempt to put a relationship one truly values to the test. One should instead seek to avoid situations where either party may be tempted to stray, to the best of one's ability.
Finding love isn't easy. Keeping it, arduous.
I used to want to believe in this idea of a perfect soulmate, but over the years I have become more ambivalent. We all hope to find someone with whom we can click or connect with instantly, whom we feel can look into the depths of our soul. But the reality may be that even if we do manage to find this special person, we may not end up together.
Whether or not two people who are attracted to each other eventually end up together, I think, is dependent upon a confluence of factors such as whether both parties are able to communicate with each other, commit to each other, and can see themselves with each other.
Once the special someone is found, I think one needs to make a conscious decision to commit to that person. I used to believe when I was younger that love conquers all, that true love should be able to withstand all tests. But I have since come to realise that man is by nature imperfect, and even what is considered the truest love can be and must be vulnerable. Thus it is folly, I feel, to court temptation or attempt to put a relationship one truly values to the test. One should instead seek to avoid situations where either party may be tempted to stray, to the best of one's ability.
Finding love isn't easy. Keeping it, arduous.
Sunday, September 16, 2007
Post-Europe thoughts
I've heard that one invariably ends up feeling a little disappointed when one revisits a memorable destination, so it was not without apprehension that I embarked on my second trip to Europe, a journey intended in great part to address my sense of regret at being unable to properly take in the Scottish highlands due to a lack of time the first time I was there.
It is true the immense excitement I felt at being surrounded by the sights and sounds of London or Lucerne the last time was absent.
But, free from an anxiety to take in as much as I could that I experienced back then, I felt that I was able to soak in more of the sights this time.
And it's not only the magnificent ruins of the Tintern Abbey, the bright lights of the Eiffel Tower or the snow-capped peaks of the Jungfrau region that I remember fondly; the people I encountered along the way left an impression too.
The Chinese student we met in Bath who hopes to settle down in Britain with his family, the mildly eccentric David who runs the guesthouse in Windermere, the humorous and ever helpful Scott who saved us a long walk to the bus station in Fort William, the waitress who went out of her way at a restaurant in Berne where we had our first taste of cheese fondue and even the friendly and cute waiter at a cafe along Paris' Champs Elysees.
Then of course, there's my inimitable travel companion C, whom I sent to check out the shower each time we entered a foreign bathroom and without whose valuable map-reading skills I would be hopelessly lost. We had our fair share of disagreements and flare-ups along the way, but I'd like to think we're shaping up to become the best travel mates ever.
Still, without a doubt, what I most relish is being able to say with satisfaction that yes, I conquered Ben Nevis - Britain's tallest mountain, albeit in about eight hours. And yes, Isle of Skye is so much more than Kyleakin or the Skye Bridge.
Friday, August 3, 2007
For my friend X
Perhaps it's appropriate that I pen this now, just when I'm about to embark on a trip to Europe once more.
I just read something an old friend, X, wrote in an e-mail to me. Europe, he said, is not just a piece of geography. It is a place in his heart. I was moved when I saw these words. Indeed, Europe is a magical and special place. It's a place where unique bonds are forged and unforgettable memories are made. It was in Europe, after all, that Y got to know her present husband. And it was in Europe that I felt a certain connection with X.
I tried hard to keep this connection alive and to build on it when we returned from Europe. But perhaps I tried too hard. We drifted apart instead. We did keep in touch, but he was just not there with me when I experienced the most tumultuous period of my life, when there was so much going on in my life. I met a very special bunch of people that year - my Honours classmates - and they really changed my life and opened up new perspectives for me. Much of my thinking now, I believe in retrospect, was shaped during that period. Perhaps X was undergoing his own set of life-changing experiences then too, because I don't think our friendship was ever the same after that.
When both of us became conscious of that and tried to renew our friendship, it just didn't feel the same. Perhaps we were just bogged down by too much old baggage from our shared experiences - maybe we were trying too hard to regain old feelings instead of getting to know each other anew. But then, how does one begin to get to know from scratch someone one thought one knew very well? Easier said than done, I think.
I truly do wish to retain this friendship - but at the same time, I don't want to try too hard. Not because I'm lazy, but because I don't think friendship should be a chore. What I dread is having to make a conscious effort to keep each other updated conscientiously, fervently hoping that something will fall into place somewhere once again. That's an exaggeration no doubt, but that fear is always lurking somewhere at the back of my mind.
So I'll try my best but X, don't be too hard on me. But then, I know you won't get upset with me - we're old friends after all.
I just read something an old friend, X, wrote in an e-mail to me. Europe, he said, is not just a piece of geography. It is a place in his heart. I was moved when I saw these words. Indeed, Europe is a magical and special place. It's a place where unique bonds are forged and unforgettable memories are made. It was in Europe, after all, that Y got to know her present husband. And it was in Europe that I felt a certain connection with X.
I tried hard to keep this connection alive and to build on it when we returned from Europe. But perhaps I tried too hard. We drifted apart instead. We did keep in touch, but he was just not there with me when I experienced the most tumultuous period of my life, when there was so much going on in my life. I met a very special bunch of people that year - my Honours classmates - and they really changed my life and opened up new perspectives for me. Much of my thinking now, I believe in retrospect, was shaped during that period. Perhaps X was undergoing his own set of life-changing experiences then too, because I don't think our friendship was ever the same after that.
When both of us became conscious of that and tried to renew our friendship, it just didn't feel the same. Perhaps we were just bogged down by too much old baggage from our shared experiences - maybe we were trying too hard to regain old feelings instead of getting to know each other anew. But then, how does one begin to get to know from scratch someone one thought one knew very well? Easier said than done, I think.
I truly do wish to retain this friendship - but at the same time, I don't want to try too hard. Not because I'm lazy, but because I don't think friendship should be a chore. What I dread is having to make a conscious effort to keep each other updated conscientiously, fervently hoping that something will fall into place somewhere once again. That's an exaggeration no doubt, but that fear is always lurking somewhere at the back of my mind.
So I'll try my best but X, don't be too hard on me. But then, I know you won't get upset with me - we're old friends after all.
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