Do you desire this once more and innumerable times more

Have been reading a bit on the basics of existentialism and find the following quote by Nietzche quite useful for year end reflection


"The Greatest Weight-

What if some day or night, a demon were to steal after you in your loniest loneliness and say to you...

"This life as you now live it and have lived it, you will have to live once more and innumerable times more, and there will be nothing new in it but every pain and every joy and every thought and sigh and everything unutterably small or great in your life will have to return to you all in the same succession and sequence. Even this spider, and this moonlight between the trees, even this moment and I myself. The eternal hourglass of existence is turned upside down again and again. And you with it, speck of dust."
Would you not throw yourself down and nash your teeth and curse the demon who spoke thus, or have you once experienced the tremendous moment when you would have answered him "You are a God and I never have heard anything more divine."
If this thought gained possession of you, it would change you as you are, or perhaps crush you. The question in each and every thing 'Do you desire this once more and innumerable times more would lie upon your actions as the greatest weight, or how well disposed would you have to become to yourself and to life, to crave nothing more fervently than this ultimate confirmation and seal.”-end of quote


The idea here is to get us thinking whether we will shudder in horror if we have to live our life exactly the same over and over again. If we hold such thought in abhorrence then what is wrong in how we live. If knowing we will have to repeat our life every moment of it, how would we henceforth live the rest of it?

"Do you desire this once more and innumerable times more?" can be a very powerful question worth pondering, especially as the year draws to an end.

Growing Old Gracefully

How do you feel when flyer distributors ignore you? Sometimes when being ignored by people handing out flyers at MRT stations (especially when they try very hard to stuff them into office workers), I do momentarily wonder what image I cast upon them such that they think it pointless to sell their product to me. It may be that I look poor because of my shabby dressing or appear lowly educated perhaps.

Of late there is much disgrunt in the ST Forum from people above 55 who have difficulty getting credit cards. It dawned on me that another possibility of being ignored is due to me looking exactly my age or perhaps even older. This is not less unflattering either. It takes fortitude to accept being regarded as old by others. I have a colleague who kept on harping how unhappy he felt when a middle-aged lady offered him a seat in the train. "She is not much younger than me!" he exclaimed. Middle-aged friends and relatives also constantly mention how companies now tend to engage younger people and how fast their younger colleagues climb the corporate ladder. The fear of being marginalised or pushed out of a job is prevalent.

Recently I listened to a special country report on Japan by the Economist. The country correspondent opined that some Japanese corporates which still abide by the system of seniority based on years of service are facing setback in growth. This is because an elderly senior management seems to be more risk adverse and less adventurous in growing the company outside the country. "Because of a seniority-based pay system, this puts a huge strain on business costs, leaving less money to provide young people with training and good jobs.......It (Japan) needs to dismantle its rigid corporate hierarchies to allow new people and ideas to emerge". The report also mentions how the country seems to reflect the mentality of its baby boomers who seem not to mind going into a "genteel decline" prefering a "quieter life".

From a personal perspective, I can relate to these preferences. I often wonder why we need to move so fast and am always nostalgic about the slower pace of life back in the 70s and 80s. My daughter however chides me for using age as an excuse for not having the drive to learn new things.

I guess it really takes more than grace to grow old gracefully. It calls for a lot of self awareness as well. Using my ex-colleague as an example, if he does not exercise and eat well to keep and look fit and nimble, he should then just graciously accept the seat offered him in the train.

This too will pass

Heard from Podcast a story told by a religious teacher that goes like this:

A man left his 2 sons a box when he died. Inside the box were 2 rings, one made of diamonds and the other of base metal. The eldest claimed the diamond ring as he was the firstborn. As usual with such stories he squandered away his fortune over the years and was miserable whereupon he met his brother. The younger brother seemed to be living quite happily. When he asked his brother how he managed to fare so well, the younger brother replied that he lived by the inscription on the ring which he thought was what their father bequeathed him. The words were "This too shall pass". They had helped him ride many storms.

This story was told by a religious teacher to an audience in San Francisco. He then asked his audience to reflect on the words and share their thoughts. I shall mention 3 responses that stood out for me. One man amongst the audience told of his own personal experience. He was the beneficiary of a trust fund set up by his great grandfather. For 3 generations, his relatives lived on the income from the trust and there was immeasurable misery with persistent suspicion, dissatisfaction and repeated calls for investigations etc.

Another lady spoke of her own grandmother who suffered from depression. The old lady however lived by the meaning of those words "This too will pass" and advised her children and grandchildren to live by them. Yet another lady in the audience shared that she had been repeatedly fighting cancer after each relapse. She too put her life together based on those words.

If I were to offer my thoughts I will relate my experience which though mundane, are what those words seem to mean for me. I have just started to attend Chinese Calligraphy at a Community Centre. There is homework every week. One day I was feeling rather blue and decided to let my mind focus on calligraphy instead. At first I was rather listless and thought it not the appropriate time to do my homework. However as I concentrated on every stroke, observing the impact of each slight shift of the brush, noticing the outcome from differing weight placed on each pause of the brush and learning how the thickness of the ink and the sharpness of the pointed brush shape the characters, I started to feel very very engaged with .........( I dont know what to call it) and calm befell me. In just a split moment, I seemed to know what it was meant to be, our being here. After finishing my homework I went on my routine with a lighter heart. To those moody feelings, "This too will pass".

Scale of Happiness

In the Sunday Times Dan Buettner, the author of the book "Thrive, Finding Happiness The Blue Zones Way" placed Singapore as the happiest city in Asia. Of course the criteria in assessing happiness used by him relates a lot to security and safety. "Singapore shows that feeling secure is more important than freedom when it comes to happiness", Buettner said.

However of interest to me is his interview with the MM. Apparently on a scale of 1 to 10 where 10 is maximum, MM scored 5 for happiness when he was a PM and 6 at the time of the interview 2 years ago. He told Buettner that he didn’t want to reach nine out of 10 because “Then I would be complacent, flabby and walk into the sunset.”I am still wondering what he really means.

If he hadn't given specific reasons for not wanting a much higher score of happiness I would have thought that he is being philosophical about it. Perhaps he thinks that there is no such thing as an almost perfect score for happiness. He may think it is human nature to be always craving for the feeling of well being, irrespective of whether a person attribues happiness to having either loving relationships, status, power, wealth, a sense of achievement or being altruistic. However, as every person goes through the highs and lows of life it is inevitable that these cravings can be lost temporarily or permanently. Hence perfect happiness is almost impossible as long as we crave for these deemed attributes of happiness or feel their inadequacy or loss.

However his words, “Then I would be complacent, flabby and walk into the sunset” seem to paint a picture of his refusal to be complacent because once he feels complacent he will be "flabby" and going downhill. Hmmm....so puzzling... Does that mean he is actually happy about being unhappy where unhappiness equals continuous strive?

Actually in counselling, we called this scaling. So you ask a client to rate his perhaps anger or sadness etc. Say if the client rates 6 out of 10 for sadness, you ask him what needs to happen for him to bring it down to 4. Alternatively to pep him up and to get him to focus on any good things happening to him, you may ask why he doesn't rate it 8 ie. getting him to think of the things that aren't so bad after all.

Actually this technique is part of the Solution Focused Therapy. Another technique is to ask the client the miracle question which goes like if a fairy godmother grants the client a miracle quietly at night such that what he wants is granted, when he wakes up the next morning what would have changed such that he suspects a miracle has happened. Maybe Buettner could have gotten a more comprehensive answer from MM if he had asked the miracle question. However, MM could have answered that he does not believe in miracles and we have to work for what we want.

Earthiness

Inside the primary school where I work there is a student care centre. The school is a low ranking neighbourhood school in terms of academic performance. The majority of students come from lower income families. This student care centre (SCC) inside the school has a higher percentage of children from dysfunctional families compared to other SCCs. This is because children from our school with family problems that are brought to MCYS' attention are often referred to this SCC. This occurs when MCYS deems that the kids are better off at the SCC than staying at home. Their fees are substantially paid for by MCYS.

I was down at the SCC to do storytelling today. I went a bit early and had some time to look around before the session. As I have 2 student counselees attending the SCC I know some of the staff there. Today however was the first time I met the cook cum housekeeper. She is a short and stout middle-aged lady with short punky hair. Today she wore a loose red T-shirt hanging over her shorts and looked very much like a housewife at home. She caught my attention because she was disciplining 4 boys aged about 10 or 11 years whilst holding a feather duster in her hand. "My,my.." I thought to myself "How can they leave a cook to do the disciplining!", the high horse counsellor in me is at work. However as I pondered and listened to what she said to the boys, I became more and more intrigued. From her words which was in Mandarin I gathered there was a squabble amongst them. She then addressed each boy one by one, pointing out how each boy's actions affect the others. She however also spoke of the strength in each of their character. So she would say something like "You are actually very helpful and kind most of the time but when....da da da happens you go...da da da " I was surprised that the 4 kids did not put up fierce rebuttal and resistance but instead told her their side of the story. I had the impression that they respected her.

Half way through my story telling session she served me tea. When my session was over she offered me green pea soup and we chatted at length about the children. I was able to take a closer look at her. When she laughed I noticed her teeth were uneven, chipped and stained. However far from being repulsive they seem to reinforce the warmth that exudes from her. She had worked there for 8 years and has learnt on the job how to handle kids. I complimented her about the way she disciplined them using the slap and "sayang" (love) method. She told me she reads up a lot about child behaviour and ways to manage children. Wow "zhen de pei fu, pei fu" (my deep respect). I hope I am not romanticising her.

I left the place feeling somewhat light and cheerful. I don't really know why. Maybe I am infected by the woman's earthiness. I thought about the differences in people whom I interact with now versus those in my previous job. I used to admire the suaveness, eloquence and good looks of the bankers that came to peddle their products and occasionally enjoyed the witty banters with them. You can say they feasted my eyes (especially the good looking ang mos) and tickled my intellect. I would walk away feeling pleased when I managed to outwit them. However as these interactions weren't authentic they were not held in the heart and they evaporated like a mist. Needless to say there was also much pretences amongst colleagues for the sake of survival or avoidance of pain from the bosses. Such interactions are best forgotten haha.

After my resignation I have met people who are very very differnt, my classmates in my counselling class, my ex-colleagues at the Family Service Centre, my colleagues in school and my student counselees not the least. Just like the woman I met today at the SCC, we do not engage with our masks. Hence the feeling of warm earthiness.

One Door and Only One

Perhaps one symptom of getting old is when lyrics of songs which one sang as a child start playing in the mind. Of late this is happening quite a fair bit to me. My first exposure to music and songs were the hymns and choruses which I sang in primary school (other than the old evergreen mandarin songs of 50's blared over redifussion at home).

This particular hymn suddenly popped up in my mind after a visit to my student's home.The lyric goes like this:

"One door and only one
And yet its sides are 2
Inside and outside
On which side are you?

One door and only one
And yet its sides are 2
I'm on the inside
On which side are you?"

(Basically it is a Christian chorus which teaches about being saved when one chooses to be inside)

My recalling of this chorus has no religious angle. It is just so situational. This little Pri 3 girl is presented for counselling because of very high absenteeism rate. She could go for weeks without turning up at school. As the government now has a policy of compulsory education, there is a standard operating procedure to arrest the problem of high absenteeism. This includes home visit by school counsellor, family counselling by other agencies and court procedures when all effort fails. The MOE however hardly resort to the last step because honestly it is impractical to put more stress on the family which is usually already dysfunctional.

2 weeks ago I made a visit together with a social worker from a family service centre (FSC) to the girl's home. It was my fifth visit to the house. The first visit early in the year was the most successful because her mother was caught by surprise. So she acknowleged the importance of education, shared her health problems including her suffering from depression, spoke of her financial difficulties and promised to send the kids to school nevertheless. To assist her she was linked up to the FSC which offered free counselling service and which obtained for her a huge financial subsidy to put her child in student care thus enabling her to work etc. Effectively the family just needs to pay a nominal monthly amount of $5 to place the child in the student care which is directly opposite the school. After a short span of more regular attendance, the child reverted back to the routine of missing school and not turning up even at the student care as well.

At the second home visit, after knocking for almost 15 minutes, a tenant appeared at the door. We sought his help to get the girl's mum to talk to us. He reappeared after 5 minutes to pass a message that she was sick and unable to meet us. All other subsequent visits that followed were futile though we could sense that she was in the house. A neighbour shared with us that the kids are ferried every morning to a relative's house and return in the evening whilst the mother remains at home. Both the social worker and me are dumbfounded why she wouldn't bring the kids to the student care instead.

It is known that people sometimes find it hard to muster strength to reach out for help. In this case however help is at the doorstep for this family, within reach by just opening the door. As the knockings on the wooden door became louder and louder and the callings of her name became more of a nuisance to her neighbours (as if we were loan sharks) we took a breather and silence fell between us. The wooden door remained shut whilst we stared at the flame of the oil lamp hanging on the corridor. The flame fluttered a little but kept burning, casting a sense of sad incomprehension on the door that closed on us.

"One door and only one
And yet its side are 2......"

Hypocrites

A few months ago I participated in a focus group for a research conducted by a friend's daughter for her university project. The focus group which I was in comprised of 5 people above 50 years and the feedback required of us at the tea session was our thoughts when the government first announced the intention to build the international resort and our thoughts now that they are in operation. Amongst the other participants there was a businessman and people working in finance, purchasing and journalism field. Surprisingly, it turned out that I was the one most worried about the negative social impact when the announcement was made and more so now. The others participants were more positive because of the economic benefits and the buzz the IRs brought about and believed that government measures would be sufficient to curb additction amongst the citizens. So I walked away thinking these people are not really very caring socially ( noble self image ).

When Genting Shares were publicly listed at 35cts I subscribed and got 9 lots. I sold 5 lots at just below a dollar and now the share is traded at above $2, more than 5 times IPO price. Everytime the share price rockets I would lament to my husband that I should not have sold and that I should have bought more from the market etc, etc. At the AGM when they ran out of lunch packs for the shareholders they gave out $50 vouchers that can be spent at the restaurants. I walked away feeling so happy. When I read news about businessmen losing millions at the IRs, I remarked jestfully to my husband that Genting makes money by bankrupting people. Now it dawns on me that I do have that "I love mankind but I hate people" mentality. This is a bit like Eliot Spitzer, former NY governor who was found to patronise prostitutes and who at the same time had prosecuted several prostitution rings in his career. He had risen in politics advocating ethics and integrity as cornerstones of his administration. So it goes to show that hypocrisy is in us (or at least some of us).

However the latest reports of foreign workers squandering their hard earned money at the casinos, office workers crossing over from Shenton Way to destress at MBS and busloads of housewives from Msia making a beeline for the gambling tables, I have been feeling less comfortable being a Genting shareholder (albeit a minor minor shareholder whose wish is for the company to make huge profits). No wonder the Muslims have guidelines for holding investments which must be Shariah compliant. Gambling and money lending businesses are amongst the forbidden investments. Seems like they understand human weaknesses and help people to avoid such dilemma or becoming hypocrites.

Neuroplasticity

Today I learnt a new word "neuroplasticity" from listening to podcast.

The nerve cells in our brain or neurons are interconnected. Neuroplasticity refers to the ability of the neurons to add or remove connections in response to new information and experiences.

The programme was an interview with Dr. Rick Hanson, a neuropyschologist. The basic takeaway are:

1)As the mind changes, the brain changes.
2)As the brain changes, the mind changes.
3)Hence we can change the mind to change the brain which then change the mind.

1) As the mind changes, the brain changes. This refers to information and experiences that sculpt the brain. For example experiments have found that regular meditation could thicken the cortical layer of the brain in parts of the brains which are important for cognitive and emotional processing and well-being.

2) As the brain changes, the mind changes. As an example, it is believed when the insula in a person's brains is thicker, the person has bigger capacity for empathic responses. The reverse is also true in widely known changes to the mood and perception of patients suffering from partial brain damage.

3) It then follows that one can use one's mind skilfully to change the brain which can then change the mind for the better. "Neurons fire together wire together"- repeated patterns leave lasting residuals. Hence if one allows one's mind to dwell on certain themes repeatedly, the brain structure that results will cause the mind to rest on these themes. Hence it makes sense for one to dwell on the good things and train oneself to be grateful for the well being of the mind.

That is probably the foundation upon which many approaches of psychotherapy are based, . These include strength based therapy, solution focused therapy and positive psychology.

Child Fantasies

For awhile I was rather disturbed by my client’s imaginations and fantasies. For several sessions he described with fine details how he drove his car from point to point, how he engaged his gears and where he parked his car. It started a couple of months ago when at one session he raved non stop about receiving driving lessons from a coach whom his uncle got for him. As the weeks went by his enthusiasm for driving raged as he shared with me how he controlled the wheels and outraced even his uncle.

He is a primary 3 boy abandoned by his mother and was physically abused by his step father when he was a toddler. At first I suspected that his wild fantasies might have arisen from visiting the arcades and playing with car racing games. However when his stories became more vivid I imagined that his uncle might have brought him to some simulation driving centres. I then called his guardian the grandmother. She laughed and told me that his uncle sometimes let him sit in the driver seat and did explain to him the way to drive a car. She told me that he is similarly obsessed talking about his driving skills at home. I suspect that the child gets a sense of control and security from his fantasies of mastering a car; and I allowed him air time with me about his car driving antics.

On my visit to New York I bought ( for a steal ) from “The Strand” (A huge bookstore buying and selling new and used books) Melanie Klein’s The Psycho-analysis of Children. Klein discussed how children find relief from internal and instinctive anxiety by projecting onto external objects. In very small children it is through play where the child is able to master the anxiety through control of the toy. So for example, a major anxiety in early childhood is missing someone who is longed for, the mother in most circumstances. Hence you find that small girls love to play with dolls as they are able to assure themselves of the presence of a loving mother when they nurse and care for their own doll. During the latency stage (between school going age and puberty), obsessive activities may take over as a source of projection. For instance a boy’s obsession to beat his rivals in games is the masculine way to deal with internal anxieties. Achievement in their games or sports is a mastery over their internal anxieties. “The small child’s play activities, by bridging the gulf between fantasy and reality, help it to master its fears of internal and external dangers”.

I believe my client’s obsession and fantasy with cars is his modus operandi to help him gain mastery over his anxiety of losing his mother. More than that I can now understand him better, how much he longs for her and how helpless he must be feeling about the whole situation.

NLB

Attended a gathering of volunteer story tellers last Saturday at the National Library. They treated us like kids feeding us with party food, ice cream and popcorn.

The Director in charge (who shared that she has just received her 35 years long service award) gave a short speech about the library's initiatives over the years in promoting a nation of readers. Her personal account of her career in NLB was equally interesting. I believed she was a scholar because she mentioned that upon her return she was offered 2 jobs, one with the library and another with PA (People's Associations). Thinking that working with PA would involve lots of overtime she chose NLB. Little did she know she ended up spending much personal time in NLB spearheading various activities out of love for the job.

Some 20 years ago whilst attached to the Ang Mo Kio branch, she took it upon herself to conduct story telling sessions outside her working hours for the love of it. It became quite popular such that she had to conduct it at the theatrette. She invited the parents in as well with the objective to demonstrate to them the way to instil the love of reading in their children. Hence she was strict with parents and would ask those who stayed at the back and read newspapers to leave. The library received a complaint against her but her boss supported her.

This is not the first time I attended such event. A few months ago there was an appreciation event for "Friends of Library" (mainly all kinds of volunteers). The Dy CEO spoke during that function. What struck me as a commonality not only between both these senior officers but amongst a few supporting officers as well is the passion for their job.

Coming back to last Saturday's event, the Director took her leave after awhile and said she had to rush to AMK library to facilitate discussions at a Chinese readers club formed by taxi drivers. Apparently a couple of readers' clubs have been formed where readers meet say monthly or bi-monthly to share their thoughts about a book. Before she left she encouraged us volunteer story tellers to form our own book club and suggested the library officer in charge of us to facilitate.

Anyway my blog today has a mission. The NLB also conducts a reading programme known as "kidsREAD". It recruits volunteers from community self‐help groups and individuals to engage in reading related activities with children aged 4 to 8 years old from low‐income families. This nation wide reading initiative was launched in April 2004 and aims to promote the love of reading and cultivate good reading habits among all young Singaporeans, in particular children from low‐income families. We were told to spread the message that volunteers are still needed for this programme. By the way a lot of activities including story telling sessions at the libraries are conducted during weekends so working adults can volunteer as well. However as this kidsREAD programme involves the same group of children every week, it is preferable that a volunteer can commit for at least 6 months to build the rapport. Ah another message, Chinese and Malay storytellers at various libraries are lacking as well. So if anyone is interested do go to NLB website to register and find out more.

Spiritual thoughts

The MET (Metropolitan Museum of Art NY) has a segment which is offsite in uptown Manhattan amiss a park and atop a hill overlooking the Hudson River. It houses beautiful works of Medieval Art. It is named The Cloisters because of its vaulted archways and re-created gardens of the Middle Ages.

I visited on a weekday and as I had the luxury of time I tagged along 2 different groups of Arts Students led by the Museum tour guides. It was my first introduction to appreciating and interpreting art pieces and it was very enlightening. What really struck me is the very strong religious influence in these art pieces.

In the wee hours at night due to jet lag (back in Singapore), it started me thinking about religious influences in both Asia and the West for generations. It seems to me people are born with different realm of spiritual disposition. Some have more ability or need to reach for the inner self or soul. They find themselves in religion, art, music and nature.

I believe however that the way to spiritual growth can be accessible by every person on earth. It does not appeal to me then that any religion that is exclusive in nature (the one and only way to salvation) can be the universal answer to man’s deliverance. A simple housewife say in India or Vietnam should be able to find her spiritual self just as much as the renowned artists that produce those great pieces of art. The other way for the ordinary man and woman has then to be “love and kindness”, that is the ability to love, be it just within the family or beyond. To help ordinary people along, religions have therefore universally preached these virtues and selflessness.

Just like the rings that are added to a tree trunk over the years, I think a person’s spiritual life grows with engagements with one’s inner self. Also, just as trees have different thickness, so people are born with different spiritual disposition probably as a “passed down” from a previous life.

Exciting New York

Yes, it may be rather scary staying in New York (read my encounter mentioned in previous blog). However the city offers much to feast your senses including numerouus parks, a list of museums, nearby islands, beautiful bridges, gorgeous architecture and buroughs with different ethnic flavour. I also spent quite a bit of time having a cuppa whilst watching people go by. The city is very cosmopolitan. Once whilst travelling in the train I decided to take note of the ethnicity of the passengers in the car. There was a fair distribution of caucasians, blacks, hispanics,jJews, Indians, Chinese and people of other Asian origin. In some way you can feel quite at ease in New York because no one cares or gives you a second look.

Emerging from the subway at different stations is always a bit of a surprise because each burough has its own face and characteristics. My stay so far has been interesting including attending a show at a TV studio by courtesy of my daughter queuing up for hours to get the tickets. The show was "The Daily Show with Jon Stewart",(an American political satirist, television host, media critic and stand-up comedian). This was the first time I had been to a TV studio and I felt kind of awkward having to cheer, catcall and applaud with the Americans to reach a certain decibel as instructed by the facilitators before the entrance of the host. Most times I couldn't really catch the jokes maybe because the references were unfamiliar to me. Fortunately the show took on a more serious slant during the second half when the host kind of grilled the guest who is the Republican whip and has been a critique of Obama's policies. Still I was a bit worried that the camera caught me looking stoned when all around me broke into laughters hahaha.

Yesterday I went to the MET (Metropolitan Museum), my second visit since my first 3 years ago. I discovered that I have missed out so much during my first visit. The collection is really mind boggling and I am quite sure I will visit the MET every time I come to NY (hopefully there will be more chances of such).


Ok got to go and do a bit of cleaning now that my daughter has left for classes. See my stay here is also occasionally met with her black face when I nag about the mess in the room. She instructs me not to touch her things, but I can't stand it and will risk her fustration by sprucing up a bit. I guess the tiffs add to the excitement of my stay :)

Different people

The Berliners are incredibly helpful. If you just stop awhile and stare in bewilderment at the complex electronic train schedules above you, you will inevitably be approached by some German with "May I help?" in crisp English. Even at the bus stops when you and your partner argue over the right bus to take, some eavesdropping German will offer to end the confusion. My husband and I spent 4 nights in Berlin. It was a favourable experience, learning about German history (from the time it was Prussia to the Nazi Regime, to the division after second world war and until the reunification) and admiring the beautiful architecture. It came as a pleasant surprise to me that Germans are helpful as I always have the impression that they are serious and stiff.

After Berlin and UK I flew over to New York to bunk with my daughter at her college room, whlist my husband returned home to Singapore. On our fist day out after a full day of activities we took the tube home. It was past 10 pm and the train was fairly crowded. About 3 seats away from us a black man had a white sack between his knees. Out of a sudden, he pulled out a long sword from the sack and struck at the row of seats opposite us which was fully occupied. It didnt hurt anyone but the poster above the seats was torn. The woman sitting just beneath the poster screamed and dashed for the door leading to the next car. My daughter and I followed her. There was a commotion when people tried to rush to the adjoining cars. Whilst in the adjoining car the train halted and we could hear voices shouting "Get our of the train". The train remained stationary for quite a long time. After sometime we saw him leaving the train and leaning against the wall at the platform. The train doors however had difficulties closing. Those were tense moments as we feared he might re-enter the train. To our relief the doors finally closed and the train moved on.
However I wondered about the safety of other passengers at the platform or in the train that he might hop onto. This is my third trip to New York. I have from my previous visits already formed an opinion that New Yorkers are not friendly. Now I think I have to be more alert as well.

Useless mother, secong time round

I think I take my role as a mother seriously, a bit too seriously perhaps.

In a few days time I will accompany my son to settle into college life in UK. Since 2 weeks ago I have been waking up occasionally in the wee hours of the morning with a hollowness in my heart. It was the same feeling 3 years ago prior to my daughter's departure for the States. Only it was worse then. For quite a long time before and after she left home I would wake up in the middle of the night feeling quite miserable just thinking about how far she was away from me (20 over hours of travelling time). This time round it is less distressful, I can fall back into slumber after a brief discomfort. Maybe I am a bit seasoned already.

I clearly remember how my heart cringed when the plane was flying out of New York and I looked out of the plane window. I stared down at that big scary city and could not believe I am leaving my baby behind. The feeling was rather like a mother hen being forced to leave behind her chick in a wolf's den. Never could I have imagined that this baby has grown so accustomed to that city that it would be painful for her to return.

Back then I chided myself for being useless. Looks like I am a useless mother, second time round. I told myself then how fortunate we were with air travel compared to ancient times. I remember I asked myself how the mothers of those ancient Chinese princesses would have felt when their daughters were married off to the Mongol chiefs. This time round I ask myself how our great great grandmothers in China would have felt when their sons (our grandfathers) had to travel by ship for months to eek out a living in SE Asia about a century ago. Yea I know I am useless but I also know I will get use to it.

Don't under-estimate this Empty Nest Syndrome though. When the kids move out you literally feel the hollowness in the house. Going back to the issue of role and identity again, the more your identity is attached to your role, the more lost and disoriented you may become when you no longer need to perform that role. That is why I said I have taken my role as a mother a bit too seriously all this while. Then again with every unrest a change is inevitable. Amidst the melancholy I am also seriously thinking about ways to "grow" myself, now that I have all the freedom to do so.

Rediscovering the Sun

There is a difference in approach between psychodynamic therapy and CBT (cognitive behavioural therapy). Pyschoadynamic therapy has interests in the client's past that brings about recurring themes in their lives. It also explores the ways a client subconsciously builds defensive mechanism to avoid the difficult aspects of their past.

CBT on the other hand helps the client to recognise distorted thoughts or perceptions (misbeliefs) which may cause pyschological distress. CBT does not explore the deep subconscious imprints but uses a more direct approach of reframing misbeliefs.

James Hollis, psychotherapist and Jungian analyst, in his book "Finding Meaning in the Second Half of Life" gave examples of clients who are accomplished in their career and yet encounter some form of pyschological distress. In my previous blog, I wrote about self concepts. People carve for themselves a personal story by which they live, a story shaped by social conditions created by parents, culture, society and religious institution.

Hollis quoted several examples. He examines a situation when a person grows up in an environment when the person constantly feels "overwhelmed" ( arising from say a dysfunctional family for example). There are 3 logical responses, one is "retreating, avoiding, procrastinating, hiding out, denying, dissociating". A second logical response is the recurrent need to be in control. “The world is hurtful and invasive. You must hurt or invade it first, or be hurt or invaded instead.” The third logical response is to comply. "“Give them what they want”, beginning with mom and dad".

In another circumstance when one suffers "the wound of insufficiency". The first logical response is the feeling that "I am as I am treated". For example a person who is neglected, bullied or abused may have low self esteem and feels that he/she deserves such treatment from others. This leads to a personal story of low self-worth which may lead to "diminished possibilities, a tendency to hide out from life, avoiding risk and even repeatedly making self-sabotaging choices."
The second logical response to "the wound of insufficiency" is the need to over-compensate. The personal story then may be one that spurs a life long need to be successful, to amass wealth, status, power or the illusive right partner.
The third logical respone is an anxious need to gain approval from others and the obsession to please others.

Ironically, any psychological distress is a wake up call from the soul and the inner self who have been long suppressed. This comes after the discovering that the exhaustive search for "something out there- some person, some social stature, some ideological cause, some external validation- that will make our lives work for us" failed. It is through suffering such distress that drives us to re-examine whose life we have been living for. It demands that we be accountable for our own life and how we want to live. Copernicus discovered that the Sun and not the Earth is the centre of the universe. Do we want to let the Sun in?

The Earth is not the centre of the Universe

Of late Socrates' renowned quote "The unexamined life is not worth living" strikes me a fair bit, although I have not researched into his thoughts behind those words. I am half way through the book "Finding Meaning in the Second Half of Life' by James Hollis and have just listened to a broadcast "Exploring the Concept of Self" by Gil Fronsdal, Buddhist teacher. I noticed a number of similar ideas in both.

Hollis, a Jungian analyst and psychotherapist wrote about people who find themselves in a dark wood in the second half of their life, struggling to find meaning and to reconnect with their authentic self. He suggests that for most part of our life we live under a legacy of parental and societal norms, values and expectations almost like a trance like existence. Sometime usually in mid-life (or earlier for others) many people go through some emotional turbulence when the goals that promised a fulfilling life don't hold true anymore. There arise unexplained feelings of being stuck or feelings of anxiety and voidness. Hollis calls for a soul searching journey "of getting our life back" and the deconstruction of "the false self" and asking ourselves whose life have we been living for.

On a similar vein Gil Fronsdal in his talk suggests that we should examine the layers of internalised self concepts that are constructed from our own history ie. from the family, social, cultural and religious environment that we grew up in. Gil cited an example that for families that have gone through generations of sufferings an internalised message could be a painful sense that the world is an unsafe place. Other examples of internalised messages that become cornerstone of people's life include:

- the message that I need to have a career, a house and a spouse to be happy
- the message that I need to be efficient
- the message that I have been wronged or that I am a victim
- the message that it is important to be liked
etc

Hence there are many a times when "I feel l am like THIS type of person, but I have to be THAT type of person". Sufferings and limitations that come with concepts of self often lead to people questioning "Is this the right operating system for myself?"

Gil suggests we really need to re-examine whether we need to be what others think we need to be. We must also ask ourselves who we think we need to be versus who we really want to be. Gil used a very powerful metaphor of Copernicus' theory which displaced the Earth from the center of the universe and launched the renaissance in astronomy. Likewise he thinks we must review and drop self concepts which don't hold true for ourselves. We can then have the freedom to choose personal messages that resonate to us and which we feel are authentic for ourselves. Making that choice leads to freedom from the "Conditioned realm of self".

Annual Dinners

Attended the School's annual dinner (for teachers & staff) yesterday evening. Didn't know teachers are such a fun loving bunch.

The theme was Wild Wild West and I became more and more amused throughout the evening. I was definitely one of the odd ones out who didn't wear a cow boy's hat and a pair of authentic denim jeans or jacket. Even the school's casual worker in her late forties came with hair pleated like a Red Indian woman complete with jeans, scalf and short boots, not to mention the principal and vice principal who set good examples for dressing according to the theme. Well before the dinner started the whole hotel function room was buzzling with wild exclamation and laughter and photo taking.

I laughed each time I noticed a new form of accessory. Many had pistols hanging from their belts and a few wore Indian feather headress. Needless to say there was a prize for each best dressed man and lady. One of the guy nominess wore a complete Red Indian head-dress and costume which partly revealed his bare body and did his Red Indian chant and prance barefoot on stage. The second nominee, a John Wayne look alike jumped onstage to challenge the Red Indian only to be followed by a third nominee who rushed onstage in his sheriff outfit to handcuff the two. The best dressed lady galloped onstage with a toy horse head in tow not to mentioned another nominee who looked really attractive as she walked barefoot onstage in her Red Indian costume and feathers.

It made me recall how people neglected themes at annual corporate dinners at my ex-company. No one paid attention to it and worse thought people who came dressed according to the theme as rather crazy. I guess no one wanted to guess what the boss would think of him if he came barefoot dressed like a Red Indian Chief. Perhaps it was only with my ex-company with its stiff upper lip culture where lame entertainment came in the form of Victor Khoo and his delivery of vetted jokes (vetted by organiser).

For this School function there was no lack of emcees. I didn't know there were so many jokers. Oh just in case you think the difference in culture is due to a different age group, I must clarify that there were quite a few 20-year long service award recipients. Jokes came so naturally to the emcees, poking fun at their colleagues inclusive. All in all I feel the stark difference between the guarded nature of my ex-colleagues in the corporate world and the natural spontaneity of this group of educationist. They seem more authentic. I wonder whether every career draws people with similar trait or whether the culture of the organisation shapes the people. I tend to believe in the later. Many many years back before my ex-company was corporatised, it was a statutory board which meant bottom line was not the main driver. In that environment where people were more relaxed we had annual year end parties that were quite enjoyable too, with song items as well as skits that made fun of bosses etc. All that fun loving spirit eventually dried up in the office. Yesterday they came flooding back again.

What else do we miss?

Interesting! Click this link.

snopes.com: Joshua Bell Plays in Subway

How to change?

Attended a meeting at MCYS yesterday over the case of a physically abused client. 12 people were involved. Other than school counsellors and MCYS social worker and her 2 seniors, other participants included doctor from KK, police officer,MOE psychologist, representatives from various student care and child care centres where the victim and his siblings are attending, plus people from organisations I didn't quite register. The Objective is to review whether the measures recommended by the MCYS social worker is comprehensive to avoid further incidents of abuse.

Initially I was rather impressed and thought to myself I have underestimated the comprehensive network of social support provided by the government. However I cannot help but wonder at the amount of man hours and resources spent on the case. This impression is further validated when my colleague, the school counsellor remarked that the recommended measures are quite standard and such meetings are more of a formality. I have a feeling it is to establish a joint responsibility.

The so called victim is my client and was referred for counselling by the form teacher for behavioural problems in class, mainly not handing in his work. Whoa! Every time I go to fetch the student for the session, the teacher would break out into an endless lament of him not doing his work, disturbing classes etc. The teacher's relentless complaint and phone calls have made the mother of the child very stressed and frustrated. This despite the teacher being aware that the child's mother suffers from depression and has once attempted suicide. To be honest, I have never really made it my main focus to tackle his behavioural problems in class. I was targeting the root of his attention seeking behaviour which I perceived as low self esteem. As I worked with him I noticed a lot of self despise and I tried very hard to get him to see his strength and to believe in himself. Earlier on in the year, the form teacher did make a remark that he behaved a bit better but went on to add "but he thinks one good behaviour justifies another bad behaviour". The vital difference in attitude between a teacher and school counsellor lies in the level of expectation. Whilst a counsellor is pleased with a small improvement as a first step towards change, the teacher expects almost a normal behaviour in line with the rest of the class overnite. I later learnt that teachers can be quite pent up over his/her students' work because the students' work is reviewed by a supervisor regularly. Maybe it forms part of the teachers' KPI.

The form teacher's complaints and an incident of his son telling a lie drove the mother frenzy and she beat him up so badly that the bruises were noticeable, hence leading to police investigation, hospitalisation for observation etc etc etc. You will not believe it. After the whole commotion and the boy's leave of 2 weeks in hospital, the first thing the teacher told me when he resumed school was "he has not done his worksheet"!!!

At yesterday's meeting, the chairperson asked me about any change in his behaviour with counselling. I just replied "there is not much progress". You can't say I feel good saying that but I certainly didn't feel lousy too. Perhaps it was because in the morning I had a very uplifting conversation with the father of another client whose mother passed away last year. I know I have helped in some cases and I couldn't do much in others.

Sigh....but I guess I can't just leave it at that. For the earlier case I really need to engage the teacher for a more effective management; and mind you, adults are just as difficult if not more difficult to change.

"That's It" or "Is that it?"

Attending a funeral and another wake on the same day make me feel kind of spaced out. If you have ever witnessed the procedure leading to the cremation at the Mandai Crematorium, you can not but feel that the last leg at the viewing gallery is really quite poignant. (I wonder whether it was designed that way with that purpose in mind. Please don't read on if you feel moody or think it morbid). See, from the viewing gallery you wait in silence looking down at quite a large room with inlaid tracks. The casket then emerges from below the gallery and one sees it moves slowly along the track vertically across the room towards an opened door at the opposite side of the room before it is out of sight and the door closes . It really brings out "the final journey" feeling.

He was my mother's younger brother, the eldest of 3 sons. My earliest memories of my life were images of my maternal grandmother's house where this uncle worked and lived. My family moved from Singapore to KL when I was 2 and I was left in the care of my grandmother in Singapore, until I was bigger and needed less care and attention. Both my grandmother and uncle doted on me. I remembered his workplace that overlooked an airwell on the second floor of a shophouse. I remembered how he would berate my grandmother's negligence if he ever noticed a slight bruise on me. I could remember his anxiety on one of my visits to a clinic in the hospital although I have forgotten what ailed me.

He was a tailor and an educated one. When young he attended an English School in the morning and a Chinese school in the afternoon. My grandfather hired a rickshaw to fetch him around. My grandfather also bought a gramophone and introduced western classical music to the children which this uncle appreciated deeply. The early privileged life of my mother's family came to an abrupt end when my grandfather passed away suddenly and the dire family circumstances were further aggravated by the Japanese occupation. This uncle then apprenticed as a tailor, a job which seemed quite appropriate for him as he was extremely reserved and hated company. In those days a tailor could work at home and was paid on a piece rate by the tailor shops. Had he been born later he would have been labelled as being an Asperger for he had severly impaired social skills. In those days matchmaking was common and there were many interested women as he was deemed quite cultured for a tailor. He read both the Chinese and English newspapers, kept himself abreast of world news, listened to Western classical music and interested himself in the biographies of the composers as well as the latest audio systems and technology. He remained a bachelor and when he became too old to sew he worked at various jobs as a garderner and security guard. In his twilight years he felt bitter over what he deemed as a lack of personal accomplishment. He lost interest in his hobby and stopped reading. His hi-fi set was left untouched and the records and tapes became mouldy. I am sure he would have been happier if he had continued engaging his passion for music and was less concerned with his status in society. In fact, he was more informed and knowlegeable than many a better educated person.

I bought a bouquet of white orchids and the undertakers placed it on top of the casket. As the casket with the bouquet moved across the room I thought about how we touched each other's life some 50 odd years ago. As he bade his leave I wished for him a peaceful after life. Whilst the doors closed upon us, I have a feeling that straddled between "That's it" and "Is that it?" That is what I meant when I said I am spaced out.

First Family Parenting

I read with a little amusement Lee Wei Ling's article "Letting go of old prejudices", not about its content but more on some glimpses of her behaviour. In the article she described how in 1995 she had a minor accident whereby she suffered a deep cut on her shin whilst working out in her hotel room in Sydney. She headed out on foot for the first aid centre at the venue where she was attending a convention which was 1.5km away. The guy in charge however directed her to the nearest hospital despite her jeans and socks being soaked with blood. Without finding more about the distance of the hospital, she stalked off. After repeatedly asking strangers about the direction of the hospital she finally found it after walking for 2 hour 15 min and arrived "not a moment too soon" as she described it. Only then did she realise she had no identity documents, cash nor credit cards with her. Fortunately the hospital staff were very kind and went all out to assist her which prompted her recalling the incident and writing this article.

Now I thought to myself, if my children has a similar encounter I would be reprimanding them for their carelessness or foolishness for rushing off without identity document and money, not finding out more about the distance and not getting help from the hotel reception etc etc. I am actually quite amused that even the all powerful MM and his wife can not do much about her rash behaviour. In fact from many of her articles, one can deduce she is quite a risk taker, having encountered and came out of quite a few dangerous situations . I also gathered that her parents still worry about her ability to take care of herself.

I know it is sadistic comfort but it does normalise our limits as a parent in moulding our children's character and behaviour. It somehow also makes this FIRST family seems very real. I think every family does have its own challenges bringing up children :)

The Whiner on National Day

Today is National Day and I shall be honest. I don't feel a thing beyond a small desire to go downtown this evening to watch the fireworks. Nothing can ever douse my fascination for fireworks; not even after experiencing the full impact at Athens on New Year's eve with the firework dust dropping into my very eyes. Now I forget who gave me all the opportunities that I can earn enough not only to feel secure but to be able to enjoy travelling to various parts of the world.

Hai! Yes I admit I am not a grateful person and much worse a great whiner too. Following the normal course of a whiner, I tried this morning to find an excuse for my lack of patriotism. Well I find comfort in the findings of a survey in Singapore that shows the elites are the least loyal in the country. Not to say I consider myself an elite but well there must be a external reason for this. Then I thought perhaps it is because I spent the best part of my childhood and early adolescence in KL. The school that shaped me was in KL and my alma mater focused on holistic education and was renowned for instilling the love of literature into its students. You may sense the alienation I felt when I stepped foot into Singapore with its very practical approach of turning out technocrats, eg. accountants and engineers in abundance.

Still becoming a technocrat relieved me from loads of worries about earning a living and helped build a reserve sufficient not only to feel secured but also allowed some small luxuries. But somehow, the heart still does not feel grateful, hai...
And then I would pursue the train of thought about Singapore being too utilitarian bla bla bla turning us into unfeeling robots bla bla bla...hence the voidness bla bla bla...

I have mentioned in previous blogs that I entertained thoughts of scaling down in Singapore and finding a second home somewhere else. I think that will somehow enrich my life. The only thing that holds me back is how to replicate in a foreign land the joy that I am experiencing now, engaging with our local children.

Perhaps there is still something in this land that tugs at my heart, the love for the little sons and daughters of its people.

We Need the time to read Novels

"If you play golf, chess, scrabble, start reading novels etc....you are going down" so says MM.

I don't know about playing golf, but I do know that if you don't read more novels when you are younger you will find never get to read much when you are older. If you think that you can reserve evening time for reading, you can forget it. After a couple of pages you will be trying hard to grasp what you are reading before drifting on to slumberland. In fact the best time to read is when your mind is fully alert ie. in the morning and after an afternoon nap. So if you don't intend to retire at all you will never get to enjoy reading; unless of course you are lucky enough to have a job that allows you to read during office hours.

Coming back to MM's comments advocating that we do not retire, I feel we really have to be very careful not to promote an utilitarian culture where people are valued only if they are deemed to be still productive. My fear is the psychological impact it may have on older folks who are incapable of finding work or who are limited by health and agility. Many may end up feeling useless and a burden to family and society.

In Jiu Zhai Gou, we were told by the tourist guide that old folks move to stay at the temples to pursue Buddhist studies. There is meaning and purpose in every stage in our lives, the final phase being one of consolidation and the discovery of the true "I". Let us not deprive ourselves of it.

They bring Hope

Extracts from "The Secret Spiritual World of Children" by Tobin Hart:

"Children can be our spiritual leaders. They lead us to love, sacrifice, responsibility, and all sorts of things which we hardly knew we were capable. As adults, we often think of our relationship with children as involving our helping them to develop but they help us grow as well. Development is mutual……..

There is something quite remarkable about the presence of a child that serves to activate our spiritual nature- our capacity for wonder, passion, communion and hope. …….. Our heart reaches out when we see a child in pain or danger. We soften, even melt, as a child stares softly at us or looks for a lap or a hug. We stoop down, become silly, want to draw in close and suddenly lighten as if gravity no longer has the same pull when we are in their presence..."

This 12 year old Indian boy is not my client but the elder brother of one. He occasionally drops in during recess to chat. He had been quite distressed over his poor maths grades which would send his tearful father retreating quietly to his bedroom. After some persuasion, the school teachers managed to get the father to consent for the boy to take Foundation Maths (a more basic syllabus) instead.

Yesterday was racial harmony day when children were asked to dress in their traditional costume to school. I was feeling rather down suffering a bit from parental guilt of some sort. A knock on the door was followed by the entrance of the boy dressed in his white Indian traditional costume. Something about him, the smile on his face, the cheerful countenance plus the all-white cottonly costume lifted me instantly. I remarked that he looked happy. He was pleased that he has topped the Foundation Math class and the school intends to move him to another class, a level of higher difficulty. He came in however to tell me about another secret "project" he is doing. He is planning to give his parents a big surprise on their wedding anniversary. He tries to save $2 a week but finds it a bit of challenge. He asked my opinion whether giving them a treat at Swenson will be a good idea. As he deliberated whether he should leave his parents to have their own private dinner and spoke about his parents revisiting the place where they met every anniversary I noticed the love he has for his parents just flowing out like a fountain. For a second I thought to myself, "He looks like an angel".

I have spoken with his mum before on the phone over his younger brother's behavioural problems. She had sounded so troubled, burdened and disappointed with her childrens' academic performance. What she didn't realise was she and her husband have imparted the virtues of Love (which inched up my own guilt a bit though). Nevertheless, hearing the boy spoke so lovingly of his parents I saw hope for the family. In a flash it reminded me that there is always hope admist any bleakness and was lightened "as if gravity no longer has the same pull".

Amazing Stories

I have mentioned before that metaphors work very well when working with kids. Recently I have done some research that suggest that narrative therapy is effective with youngsters too. It can be done in various manner, telling a story and reflecting on it or composing a story together, usually one which involves initial struggles and then mastering the strength to overcome them. After all, ain't all the religious teachings enriched with parables and stories? In fact there is this person called Kwame Scruggs who employs mythological stories and drumming as a means of healing psychological wounds whilst working with adolescent youths and male high school "drop-outs" in Ohio.

Borrowing a story of his entitled "Half-Boy", I shared it with two of my students. The story is about a boy who was born with half a body, ie. only the right side was visible whilst the left side was invisible and extremely weak. Of course the boy was ostracizsed and eventually,after a lot of pain, decided to leave the village. He then met another half-boy who had the same affliction except that he was only visible on the left side. Instead of becoming great friends, the 2 half boys had a great fight and went through a lot of struggles till they rolled into the river. When they emerged they became a complete wholesome boy. This is I think a great story to talk about with teenagers concerning feelings of incompleteness, things lacking in one's life, the internal conflicts one endures and the struggles to be more complete.

However with younger kids (ten and eleven) they may not necessarily see the analogy straight away. So I educate them first about the physical, mental, emotional and spiritual aspects of our lives that help make us feel more complete and whole. Explaining the spiritual aspect can be quite challenging as I suggest that it is not only about attending religious classes or going to church/temple but can also refer to activities like being with nature, connecting to the soul through art, music and journaling and having quiet moments. I then get them to think about it for further discussion at the next session.

I didnt think it will leave much of an impression on them and thought them a bit too young to understand. However I was rather surprised at the subsequent session when they seem to be aware of their needs. The ten year old boy declared " I lack this " pointing to the spiritual quarter ( I have drawn a figure with 4 parts on the board). Now this is a boy who is in the best class, represents school in scrabbles, is never satisfied with his performance and is arrogant and always trying to prove himself. The eleven year old boy's remarks that he needs help in both the emotional and spiritual aspects was less of a surprise to me. He is older and has been presented for counselling arising from frequent complaints about being stressful.

The fact that they remember the story well already proves that stories do leave an impression. They may not relate to the story immediately but may one day recall and draw some lessons from it. I was also rather surprised to learn of a true incident whereby a boy in the States plucked up enough courage to save a relative from the fast flowing waters during a flood. He was asked later where he pulled his energy from. He said the story about a little engine that pulled a broken down train across the mountain had suddenly surfaced in his mind and gave him the strength. The train in the story was carrying christmas toys for the children living on the other side of the mountain. As it went, the little engine had kept bravely puffing faster and faster, "I think I can, I think I can, I think I can." These words had resonated in his mind.

I had actually read this book before at one of my story telling sessions at the library. The book is entitled "The Engine that Could". Hmm... I wonder whether Obama read it when he was young and changed it to "Yes, We Can".

Lessons from Korean dramas

There is this Korean Drama shown over KBS channel 115, The Great Merchant. It tracks the life of the main female character from a small girl to becoming a great merchant. Just like the popular drama Da Chang Jin, it describes the determination, perseverance and fortitude of the character. Now I know why Korean Drama is so endearing to the aunties and maybe womenfolk in general. There is inevitably this male character who looms behind the heroine like a shadow, quietly giving all the support and care; and who will inevitably appear in the nick of time when she needs him most. In this particular drama, there were actually 3 guys standing behind her though she was deeply in love with the male lead. What seems to be common and so touching in both these epics is the presence of an everlastingly patient man who waits and stands behind the heroine whilst she matures and grows from strength to strength in her pursuit for her not so conventional dream under extremely difficult circumstances. I have heard that Da Chang Jin was a very popular drama amongst the Middle Eastern womenfolk because it relates to their inner dream to gain more freedom. The dream is further sweetened when backed by a powerful male (maybe not so easy to find even in Singapore not to mention in the Middle East, the backing I meant).

This drama is aired only during weekend evenings which is very bad timing indeed. So I missed many episodes. Last Sunday evening I just managed to catch the last 5 minutes when the male lead was stabbed. Since I will be going out again tonight I download from the web (Korean dialogue without english subtitles) to find out whether he survived. OH NO... how can they write such a script. My tears rolled when the guy died. After all those years of hardship when they overcame obstacles after obstacles together, HE DIED? They were supposed to be finally sharing their years together. How could the script writer be so cruel? Aren't stories and dramas meant to be therapeutic promising better times after steering through sufferings?

Another aspect which I doubt about such drama is whether there are indeed men who will stand by a woman even when their love is unreciprocated. I am sure you must have heard of Paul McCartney's widely known grief over the loss of his first wife and then not too long later about him remarrying. It is the same with Victor Khoo nearer home. However recently, my skepticism is checked when I heard over podcast about how certain people make us feel recharged whilst others are energy vampires. The psychologist encourages us to take notice of who these people are so that we can spend more and less time accordingly, if we wish to be happier. Helping others will also make one feel re-energised. It happened to me going back to school after the holidays. The interaction with and response from the children somehow boost my energy and generates good feelings. So it is quite possible for those supporting male characters in the Korean drama whose love is unrequited to continue supporting the heroine. They may feel good, energised and purposeful supporting someone they love; and may derive satisfaction watching her grow in strength and character.

Anyway the script-writer apparently has more up his sleeves. Towards the end of the episode that I watched, the heroine stepped out one day after a prolonged griefing process and grave illness to greet her friends and employees and continue to be their leader. This perhaps is her final hurdle and her best accomplishment; and probably a great model to many a women that they too can be strong in the absence of a man.

The 99 Mark Scourge

My thoughts today are reflections after hearing a podcast whereby a psychiatrist related a comment from his client. The youth (client) had shared that he felt so much worse attaining 99 marks than when scoring marks much lower. This was because he kept on ruminating over what he could have done to achieve the perfect 100. His list of "shoulds" was long. Do be wary of your children developing what I shall term "the 99 mark scourge".

A child who does very well within the narrow confines of scoring As or winning medals and being rewarded by approval from authority figures like teachers and parents as well as peers, may be quite lost once they leave school and college. The quandary sets in when they are faced with the multi facets of life and when it dawns on them that they can't be perfect in everything. Heaven forbids but the ingrained perfectionist attitude may hang around them like a plague, a scourge. They may want to achieve everything, want to max out their existence to win approval perhaps now not from real authority figures but more from their own internalised authority figure (their ego). If they are bosses they may become very frustrated with the seemingly lackadaisical traits of their collegues. Always tense, they may also become easily irritated and dissatisfied with obstacles that slow them down in achieving more. Instead of enjoying people, warts, nuisances and incompetencies inclusive, they may feel being hampered all the time. For those who are more self aware they know they can not be parents for they can never be "perfect" both at parenting and achieving excellence for themselves. Now you see why we have the problem of not being replaced.

So be wary of encouraging the one track pursuit of achieving 99 marks because the consequences of the scourge can be a long lasting pest that feeds on happiness.

The Rain

The rain came after we did the first set of taiji. The group had to retreat to the concourse of the club building and made do with the space between the big screen and the sofa sets laid out for the viewing of the world cup. Moving to a different spot calls for some re-orientation as the taiji movements involve several turns of the body. At the cordorned off section of the car park where we usually practise, landmarks like a tree, a lamp post or the poolside cafe help guide the facing after each turn. Without these landmarks, we can't afford to let our minds drift but have to be conscious of each movement.

Half way through, 3 youths probably in their late teens or early twenties who were earlier on chatting by the poolside stepped into the concourse and lounged themselves on the sofa. One threw his head back on the sofa and stared at the rain pattering on the glass ceiling, another sat and stared at us blankly like a rock whilst the third gazed through us at the rain outside. They were wearing T-shirts that bear a little state flag. They are probably state swimmers waiting for the rain to stop before training commenced.

A little while later, a little mynah hopped in through the glass door left ajar by the boys. It flew a little distance to where the sofa sets were. Finding some crumbs it hopped further and further in and vanished in sight.

The rain disrupted the routine of the above 3 species. It jostled drifters who live the rhythm of life mindlessly to be more aware of each move. It arrested the youngsters and forced them to spend a quiet moment engaging the rain and the slower rhythmic and perhaps incomprehensible world of the older folks. It provided the mynah a chance to venture into a less travelled path to discover some rare finds.


"When shall we three meet again in thunder, lightning, or in rain? When the hurlyburly 's done, When the battle 's lost and won." (Act I, Scene I Macbeth)

The Dentist

Went for a root canal treatment last week. Despite assurances from the dentist at a prior consultation that I will feel no pain, I was still fearful of the injections that will render the numbness. My skeptism was partly due to the dentist's behaviour in dismissing my "fears" and probably silently mocking at my cowardice.

It turned out that I actually felt no pain at all. I am quite amazed that the injections into the gum were painless. It could probably be due to the skill and gentleness of the dentist. I was pleasantly surprised. However my hunch that the guy is cold and unsympathetic proves to be true. Throughout the one hour procedure he nagged and pecked at the poor dental nurse relentlessly. He found fault at her tardiness in fetching the equipment, nagged at her absent mindedness when she fumbled amongst the drawers to get the required parts/accessories and mocked that she forgot what she had studied. I gathered the nurse is probably a Malaysian because the dentist was bemoaning about the details required in the application form for her work permit or something. At one instance he called for some heating tool. When she asked him whether it was the black or the blue coloured one he needed, he sarcastically asked her, "Do you need me to try on you in order that you will remember?" My eyes rolled. Had I not been wearing the big goggles to shield the dentist lamp, I am quite confident the dentist would have noticed, given that my facial expressions always reflect my feelings very well. I think his behaviour tentamount to mental abuse given that she has to stay in the same room with him the entire day.

At a dinner amongst a small gathering of ex-counselling course mates and our lecturer, I shared with them my root canal procedure and more interestingly the dentist's behaviour. My ex-lecturer remarked that dentists have the highest suicide rate. We all laughed but she suspected it was because dentists generally feel they are being abhored. You go to the dentist out of sheer necessity and suffer the pain and fright. In addition you hate him for robbing you. Moreover there is very little time for a dentist to build rapport with the clients. The clients have to yank their mouth wide opened once on the dentist chair and prefer to scuttle off the minute they step out of it after bearing with all the drilling noise and sensation. Hence unlike a doctor, the dentist do not receive the appreciation that patients normally bestow a doctor.

That reminds me of a podcast I heard on the topic of compassion by a Buddhist teacher. The speaker spoke about how small acts of compassion can evoke the tenderness in a person and consequentially arouses a sense of well being. He gave the example of how kissing and tugging a child to bed does make one feels good. Perhaps dentists can allocate more time for each appointment to include some small talk with the client or perhaps gracious gestures like allowing the client to choose from a selection of dvd to be played as background music etc. I am sure they will be rewarded with a smile from the client which will give them more positive energy. In the long run the money they sacrifice in having less appointments is well worth it.

I still have 2 more appointments before the procedure is complete. This time I may decline wearing the goggles and let him see my eyes roll and roll if he does exhibit the same mental abusive behaviour. Hmm..... maybe that is a bit too risky. What if he is really neurotic? He may pretend to accidentally drop the drill onto my gums when he sees my rolling eyes! Perhaps it is safer just to offer him my ideas discussed above.

Listen to your child

Today I went to http://podcast.com and downloaded a conversation with a professor of Child Psychiatry in Yale University on the topic of helping children manage their fears. The main takeaway from this particular broadcast was the need to help children process their fears and to avoid dismissing them. The professor began by quoting a passage from the book "The Night of the Hunter" by David Grubb:

"And in the shadow of the branch beneath the moon the child sees a tiger and the old ones say: There is no tiger! Go to sleep! And when they sleep it is a tiger's sleep and a tiger's night and a tiger's breathing at the window pane......Each one (child) is mute and alone because there is no word for a child's fear and no ear to heed it and no one to understand it if heard."

We must try and understand the source of fears of the child. An example that is being mentioned is a child's fears of monsters. An adult may dismiss the child's fears by saying there are no monsters in this world. However we need to understand the root of such fears. There are external fears (eg. where harmony may have been threatened by violence, loss etc whether at home or in the community) as well as internal fears. Even in a harmonious environment, the child faces fears from within. So one may be puzzled about the origin of the monster scare. We can then help the child process by asking what about the monster the child is afraid of. As the child will likely tell you that the monster will eat or bash him/her up, it points to some aggression or anger which the child has within. The professor then alluded such anger to the child having to come to terms that at bedtime, he or she has to be alone and that mum and dad have a relationship of their own and that he is no longer the centre of the universe and that he may be jealous about it. If the child is given the opportunity to talk, be heard and be understood, he/she will be able to process the details of his/her fears and at the same time learn to manage the underlying anxieties of aloneness.

The above calls to mind statements from a book I read which encourages adults/counsellors to listen to the child's stories at play or at therapy:

"The paradox for the hopeless child is that there is much hope in being able to find someone who can really hear and be with their hopelessness"

Often children process their feelings and difficulties through media other than conversation. Play and stories (example when a child tells a story using puppets or miniature toys) assist in their emotional digestive system and we can help by listening and feeling with them. Of course you can also help the child find resources to help him/her out of the difficulties by prompting questions like "what do you think X (character of the story) wants to feel or how do you think we can help X feel better etc, but not before the child is ready. As long as the child wants you to be with his pain, stay with him, listening, mirroring and empathising.


(Hmm..Maybe we adults should also reflect upon our own internal fears which may not have been processed all these years)

I Wish I am Young again

Suddenly the house is full of chatter. Daughter is back. After a whole morning of catching up, the sleepiness which usually comes in waves after a long flight, abrupty came over her and she fell into a deep slumber on the sofa. I was like one of the kids who attend my regular Friday story telling sessions, interested and engaged listening to her stories.

If there is at least one benefit that can be derived from sending your children overseas for education, it is the widening of your own outlook and horizon when they relate their experiences in countries where they study, visit, intern etc. Of much interest to me is to learn about the values, aspirations and behaviour of youngsters they meet in various cities. Even if we were to globe trot on our own it would be difficult for us to strike up conversation with youths in general. Given my self consciousness and reservations, I often need to pluck up enough courage to strike up conversation with strangers in a foreign land, what more with members of Generation Y with their liberal and radical outlook and digital technology savviness. To get the flavour of life and finer nuances of people in any country, you really need to stay for a period. When I was young I used to admire the life of authors who travelled and stayed in various countries writing anecdotes, sometimes amusing and often reflective.

I found it very stimulating listening to the observations my daughter made about cross border behavioural traits linking to the history behind each country. Of course it helps that she is a History major. I was rather enthralled when she shared with me her conversation with the Leftist friends of her Berlin host. Her description of the invisble Berlin wall brought to mind the show "The Lives of Others", one of the most engaging film I have watched about a East German secret agent (Stasi) who grew to love the works of an author whom he was supposed to spy on.

So as the conversations flowed, I noticed I became more alive. It seems to affirm a vague belief that I have been holding within me for awhile; the need to pursue learning to grow myself. For me of course, the field of new learning if it does materialise won't be about finance or anything technical but more in humanities. At dinner, in the midst of my daughter sharing tips and pointers with my son on studying abroad, I inadvertently let out a sigh and muttered "So exciting... how I wish I am young again". They of course retorted with comments about my persistent inaction to follow my heart and realising my dreams.

Hmmm... maybe it is time for the rusty backburners to be burning again.

Perth & Gulf Pelican

Made a short trip to Perth last weekend. The picture of the beautiful pelican was taken at Mandurah, a beach resort about 80km from Perth. The lone pelican seemed to be basking in the clean air and fine weather. Its beauty attracted quite a few photographers. After I took the picture I remarked to my husband that the pelican was so much luckier that the ones at the gulf where the BP oil spill occurred (see contrasting picture).

The pictures in today's Sunday Times of birds drenched in oil evoke feelings of sadness. Somehow it also reminds us that things can happen unpredictably which are beyond our control, just like what befell the birds at the Gulf. Like the Perth pelican we must relish every good moment.

Still Searching- A Review

Reading about former business associates in the news, their achievement and success, reminds me often of the "power" and identity that is lost once I gave out my position in the corporate world. In that world, a person is valued by the influence and authority he or she has in bringing about business dealings. To this day I still shudder at the abruptness social contact is disconnected once people know you are retiring from your field for good. I am still coming to terms with my naiveness in believing that these people (whom I have dealt with for years) have become my friends. To some extent there is a bit of disillusionment with people and a feeling of voidness. A person who opts for early retirement or a complete career switch must be mentally prepared for this sudden loss of identity.

One then enters into a period of deep reflection and inward search of one's true self which has been overshadowed by one's job identity. A whole spectrum of feelings will be experienced. In one sense you relish the real freedom to decide how you want to live henceforth, uninhibited by financial obligations for your children. The choice is yours, just yours, whether you want to continue focusing on money and the prestige and recogntion it brings or decide on a simpler life and find other joys. This sense of "freedom" is interspersed with feeling of bewilderment because it is not at all easy to know what you really want and who you really are. It calls for a re-defintion of yourself. It started when you feel instinctively that the old identity no longer fits your true self, although you have not the faintest idea what the true self is. You now have to learn to listen deeply to yourself. So you engage with activities that help you do that like being with nature, reading, having quiet time day dreaming, attending art or cooking class etc. It will take a long time and it can be rather erratic. For instance, one day I will toy with the idea of turning one room in my house into a mini library and me conducting story telling sessions. Another day I wonder whether my brains is still agile enough to pursue another degree. Yet another instance I dream of writing a children's book.

I guess we women are luckier than the men. Instinctively I think women find joy in nurturing, be it our own or others. In that sense our journey to discover our real self may not be so fraught with despair.

Romanticism vs Pragmatism

Romanticism versus pragmatism, can a middle-ground be possible? One definition for romanticism is impractical romantic ideals and attitudes. Of late I have been tossed in a mind tussle between romanticism and pragmatism. A typical situation takes place last week. Last week is exam week in the primary schools and I see less students. So, I made use of the time to call up/email parents and teachers to get feedback about the emotional well being and behaviour of the students under my care.

It is rather strange that you can read about disasters, tragedies and struggles of people in the newspaper and not be affected; as if these people are aliens or of a different animal specie. It is quite a different reaction when you learn more about the struggles your students have to endure, especially hearing from the emotionally emaciated guardians. In a brief affected state of compassion, I will despair about the circumstances that engulf them. I then go on to romanticise the comfort no matter how small I can bring them. On that same vein of thoughts and mood, watching a documentary about Van Gogh's letters, his remarks like " The fishermen know that the sea is dangerous and the storm terrible, but they have never found these dangers sufficient reason for remaining ashore " move me. I then think about whether I want to pursue my vocation further, a degree in child pyschology perhaps.

On another evening however, I accompanied my husband to attend a bank customer event. The presenter shared his optimism of a market recovery taking place towards the last quarter of this year. He gave pointers to watch that may signal strong recovery and signs that the worst is over. In addition he discussed the golden rule to look for value. All these talk makes you feel guilty and idle for not actively and diligently looking after your financial investments.

So what seems to be the tussle? On the one hand I feel I need to be more committed to pursue both goals, making my money work and developing more skills in counselling. On the other hand I think it is rather difficult to swing from the subject of $ to the study of the intricate working of the mind concurrently. Thus I need to decide on which area to concentrate. If I am good with the former I will feel more secured financially and can derive more fun from travelling etc. Disparately, if I am good at helping others, I will feel more fulfilled and happy with myself. Alterrnatively, I can pursue both in a mediocre manner and derive small doses of joy occasionally from both fields (together with the pain of course). That is what I meant when I ask: Can a middle ground be possible or as the word suggests, will I end up feeling I am in the middle of no where; not forgetting that procastination is still a threat :)

Poor Bernanke

Poor Bernanke! Yesterday I read a remark by him that money can't buy happiness in his speech to graduating students at South Carolina. "Having a larger income is exciting at first, but as you get used to your new standard of living and as you associate with other people in your new income bracket, the thrill quickly wears off," he said.

I googled and found that he earned only about US$200,000 in 2009. I read somewhere he had to sell his house at a loss to move to Washington when he took on the Fed Chairman role. His job requires him to meet with and regulate those sinfully paid bank CEOs who used to earn hundreds of million in bonuses. I guess he has to convince himself that money is not everything to check himself from being envious hahaha. One can not help but feel the injustice. Think about those speculators/dealers who are trying to make a killing by attacking the Eurodollar and the European bonds out of the current Greek crisis. They can probably earn ten times his annual salary in a day if they are successful; and what is their contribution? Further hardship on the poor in Greece. Pensioners in Greece who get about US$1250 per month will see their pension reduced by 20%. Likewise government servants will suffer pay cut too etc. Sometimes I wonder what does such excessive money mean to these speculators/dealer? Such people and those masters of universe who direct their creativity to devise intricate financial derivatives/structures and who produce nothing concrete or provide any useful service are well remunerated.

Hahaha I think I am becoming a socialist, an armchair one probably. I share the sentiment of one US blogger who commented about Bernanke's remark that money can't buy happiness. He said Bernanke "has probably never been poor before".

Unconditional love

My husband and ALL his siblings have an unflagging love for my mother-in-law. If mum loves to eat a special type of pineapple, coconut sweet or Malaysian made nooddles, the family will be on a look out for such produce and may even travel the extra mile to get it. If mum needs to go for a medical appointment, there are many volunteers to accompany her.

My mother-in-law is really one of a kind in a very positive sense. I have never heard her scold anyone before, other than her grandchildren when they were mischievious. Neither has she spoken disapprovingly of any of her children. The only important decision she probably made in her life was when she was asked to decide between a Taoist or Buddhist funeral ceremony when my father in law passed away. There was a bit of dispute amongst her children but they respected her final decision.

Sometimes at family gatherings, I will quietly observe how she laughs heartily when the children humour her. As she is illiterate her children will also patiently explain to her news or storyline of dramas when she watches TV.

I have been mulling over the root of such filial trait in this family. I do not think it arises from steep moral education at home or special emphasis of such value. To me it is almost inherent in the children; a natural reaction perhaps to the way she treats them. She demands nothing of them. Even the more liberated amongst us mothers would expect something, even if minimally, from our children; failing which we feel let down. Even if we don't show it, our children know certain standards is expected of them academically or career wise. My husband and his siblings are free of such embedded demands and are grateful. I think they truly appreciate mum's unconditional love and reciprocate naturally.

The Obama Analogy

Apparently Obama has been an inspirational figure for many a Afro Americans and kids of minority races in the US. In him they see potentials in themselves which can be realised if they try hard enough.

Well, I use him too. An intelligent boy who is smart but behaves in a defiant manner, often poking fun at teachers and belittling classmates, is with me for counselling. He comes from a divorced single family and lives with his mum. At last week's session I wondered aloud to him whether his disrespect for others arose out of disdain and a feeling of being better than others. "How can I ever be better than others," he retorted. I asked why not. " I can never be better than others because I come from a imperfect family," he said. With that, I went along with the usual rhetoric about how a person is judged and respected by the person's behaviour and thoughts and not by the family background he comes from bla bla. Various examples were pulled out and Obama's complex family was of course inclusive. That seems to leave a bit of impression on him because he stayed still awhile and listened intently.

Upon reflection of the case, I sometimes wonder how long such practical intervention like Cognitive Behaviour Therapy (basically reframing), Choice therapy, Solution Focused therapy stays effective. Deep psychological imprints may not be so easily resolved especially when it relates to the subconscious mind. I reflect on what the boy said "I can never be better than others because I came from a imperfect family". Although the sentence can be easily disputed upon, this instinctive remark does have its roots. Freud believes that a child identifies himself with his parents. Identification is taking into your own personality characteristics of someone else, because doing so helps solve some emotional difficulty. For example, a child when left alone may try to become "mom" and "dad" in order to lessen his or her fears. It is usually believed that a child identifies most with the parent of the same sex. In the boy's case where the father is absent, he may over identify with his mum. The brute mannerism may then be a symptom of subsconscious "compensatory masculine acting-out" (applying Freud's theory). In this sense being imperfect may be a feeling originating from the child's subconsciousness.

For Freud, catharsis is through awareness of the subconscious, often from hours and hours of self expression which may not be too practical. With a child especially, Obama's "Yes, We Can" may sometimes seem a better choice.

Be Kind to Our Self

It suddenly dawns on me when I was practising Taiji last Sunday morning. ( Although I am supposed to be concentraing on movements and being present, I somehow get "aha" moments whilst doing taiji). I have read much literature about projection but didn't really reflect upon it, especially with regards to myself. Pyschological projections basically is a subconscious denial or suppression of one's feelings, thoughts or desires, which is then projected onto another person or subject.

It dawns on me that my discontent with certain things and certain people actually originate from the disappointment I harbour with MY OWN SELF. For instance, deep inside me I realise I do not have the attributes of a successful senior executive in the corporate world. However I can't accept this reality. Hence I direct my resentment onto say my husband. That explains why I usually get irritated whenever he mentions he is not keen to be promoted. Similarly my disgust with my own sloth and untidiness is suppressed and catapaulted onto my husband. This results in my endless fault finding with the things he hoards. Yes, the one who is most closed to you is usually the target.

Having found out the root of these negative feelings, we must be more empathic and forgiving towards our own Self. In other words be kind to our Self.

Power of Metaphors & Stories

When you want a child to remember something, it is best to use an analogy, metaphor or story. From my observation these tend to leave an impression especially if vividly used. Just using plain advice will likely be lost on them. They are unlikely to be really listening after a couple of minutes; and they usually find adults boring and "po po ma ma" ( naggy like granny and mummy).

I picked up a tip from a book that suggests drawing a brick wall to describe a strained relationship between 2 persons. The child can then be asked to identify the bricks that made up the wall, ie. the factors that contribute to the friction. Using the same idea, I let my students use play dough to build the wall and describe each brick that adds to the height. It is quite compelling especially when the bricks pile so high that it completely separates the 2 little toy figures (who represent the strained parties) on each side of the wall. The child is then asked what action is needed to remove each "brick" if he wants to break down the wall.

This metaphor seems to stay in the mind of at least 2 students of mine. Weeks after the "brick wall" session, one student surprised me with the comment, "the wall has cracked but some bricks still remain". Another student told me he has difficulty removing a certain brick.

Recognising the power of metaphors, there is this Australian guy who developed a set of cards using the analogy of parts of a car to represent aspects of our life. So for instance the engine represents our basic needs, the steering wheel steers the direction, the 2 front wheels represent the thinking and the actions which impact the back wheels which are the feelings and the body sensations, etc, etc. Some students especially boys who are interested in cars warm up to these analogies.

Likewise stories are powerful tools to share values too. In my story telling sessions at the Library, some children come and go. I have however been approached a couple of times by children who come to me and say. "I remember you, you told the story about da da da....." Sometimes due to my poor memory I failed to recollect but would just ride along. For myself, I can still remeber some Chinese stories/legends with moral teachings. Unfortunately some Moral Education classes in school have been hijacked to give more time for CORE subjects.