A matter of Attitude

An interesting BBC interview with a doctor (which I heard over podcast) casts more meaning into what I have been reading of late. It also made me reflect about a brief encounter I had yesterday.

The BBC interview was with a US Houston based 30 year old paediatrician who spent one month in Kabul, Afghanistan. She spent her first few days trying hard to swat away the flies settling on her child patients. The lack of resources, the common sight of children without limbs (Afghanistan being filled with landmines), the fact that 1 in 5 children never reach the age of 6 gave her a sense of fatalism when she left the country. ( I checked the meaning of fatalism, one definition being "the acceptance against inevitability or fate" ). She wondered why mothers bond with their children knowing they may have to bury them.

Upon her return to US or into the world that believes that you can get what you want as long as you work hard enough on it, she reflected upon her experiences and how mothers in Afghanistan live their lives. She sees in them "not a resignation", not a sense of "soulless fatalism" but a "commitment to humanity". They are "not consumed by their victim hood" but preserve a quiet "dignity" through the despair. She recalls the smile on the faces of children looking at death. She realises that the kids are the ultimate cure, they are the sunshine and the spring.

Of late I have been reading about existentialism 101. My impresssion of an existentialist is one who believes that he is responsible for creating meaning in his own life ie. he has the power to decide what sort of a life he wants to lead and what attitude he chooses to adopt in every situation. Very often existentialists just do what is deemed necessary in adverse circumstances adopting a stoic composure if you like. This is quite similar to the parable of 2 arrows often quoted by Buddhist teachers. A person may suffer physical pain when shot by an arrow. However his pain will be doubled, like being shot by a second arrow, when he continues to agonise, grieve or feel angry about his predicament. In the case of Afghan mothers, they choose to see "the sunshine and the spring" in their children despite all odds.

My brief encounter yesterday is really a day to day mundance occurrence. There is this small nursery in the middle of nowhere in the vastness of Pasir Ris Park with its several links. We often come across the nursery when we cycle at the park, but inevitably my husband will stop and browse through it even though it does not have much to shout about given the few vegetable plants, herbs and flora with their faded labels. As I followed him pushing our bikes through I heard a loud voice from a man whom I didnt notice as I entered. He had stopped his bike near the entrance of the nursery and was shouting at his son to move on. The boy of about 10 or 11 had pushed his bike into the nursery ahead of us, seemingly against his father's orders. "Stop and look at the plants lah," the boy shouted back. I noticed he was taking his time looking at the various plants and I wondered to myself how rare it was for a Singapore kid to be interested in plants. For a moment I wondered whether he was trying to be rebellious and purposely trying to irritate his father. However as my husband pointed out a young fruit, a pod, a bud or a local pea to the disinterested me who is also literally green-colour blind, the boy displayed interest and hanged around him. We then came out of the nursery from another exit whilst the boy still lingered. I was about to comment aloud to my husband about how unusual it is to find a boy interested in plants when I spotted the gruffly and angry looking father waiting on his stationary bike at this other exit. Yes a mundane incident but just the same if the father had chosen to adopt a less huff and puff attitude and joined his son in the nursery walk, both might have cycled home feeling a bit warmer at the heart.