A Valuable Mix

In the children's home where I practise sandplay therapy I have amongst my clients a pair of siblings, a girl 11 and her younger brother 10 years old. They are from a single parent family who has no means to raise them. Both kids have behavioral problems whilst the girl was under school disciplinary action and suspended from school for a couple of weeks.

It is quite startling that the siblings have similarities in the way they engage in sandplay. It is common for children to play with the sand awhile before selecting symbols and little figures to place inside the tray. Some children move the sand briefly whilst others play with the sand a bit longer. Most are drawn by the great variety of little figures and miniatures being displayed and eager to build a sandstory. The common behaviour of this pair of siblings is the way they engage with the sand. Both spend a long long time moving the sand, pushing, sifting, sprinkling and repeatedly expressing how they love the sand. The girl once described the feel of the sand as "Like someone touching me" and declared that if she is rich she would use all her money to buy sand. Her brother also declared his great love for the sand and remarked "I want to bring the sand home". Another similarity is when they invited me to participate with them. The girl wanted me to engage the sand with her during her 4th sandplay session whilst her brother wanted me to build a sandtray picture with him during his second session. The girl invited me to place my hands in the tray, to feel the sand and she then sprinkled sand gently onto my hands. There seems to be some transference going on.

My encounter with the brother at the last session evoked a transference and cross transference, hence a co-transference could have taken place. It was a rather touching experience for me. The boy had created 2 sand stories. He then removed all the items, leveled the sand and declared "now it's your turn". I picked a little house and some trees and plants. He then took out a little green car from his pocket (which his mum gave him) and placed it next to the house. Very soon he began suggesting items that should be included and I was like, "Shall WE put this and that as well?" ie. it became our tray not mine.  He wanted to include an ambulance "If we need help," he said and included a little kerosene lamp "to light up when it is dark". It was like inviting me to help him build a safer world and I could only respond with love.

As Katherine Bradway, an influential sandplay therapist in San Francisco puts it "both may find hooks in the other on which to project, or hang the unused parts of themselves.....And both respond to these projections"

"The therapy relationship is a mix, a complex mix, a valuable mix"

Cheap Paper or Oxygen

When you can look directly at the rising sun, something which is impossible under normal circumstances, you get a sense of curious eeriness. It is like having a chance to peek into true nature through a forbidden and artificial opportunity.  For 3 mornings in a row I was not awakened by the usual blinding sun rays that blazed through the bedroom window. Instead I could stare at the sun, a sinister salted egg yolk shrouded in thick haze.

Singaporeans never had it this "bad". As Joyce Hooi, BT correspondent puts it humorously, there is a "Bending of Heads every hour on the hour" looking at a mobile device followed by "the Shaking of Heads"(tracking PSI reading). All these whilst some mask-less construction workers seem to suggest a "super-strain of the populace, whose respiratory systems are immune to particulate matter".

Jokes aside the feeling one gets from this episode include a sense of vulnerability and recognising the inability to have everything under control and plan (no matter how super-efficient one is trained to be). One watches in trepidation how our lives will be impacted by snowballing environmental ills from the onward march of market driven economies. As reported in the papers it cost a few thousand rupiah to burn the forest down with kerosene and a lighter, compared to about 9 million rupiah a day to clear the land mechanically with heavy machinery (super cost efficiency as long as environmental cost is forever not accepted in accounting standards).

Today Indonesia named some companies involved, Sinar Mas which owned Asia Pulp and Paper (APP) being one of them. Will I ever forget APP? I remembered clearly I had to skip one New Year Eve's count down at the club with my family some 15 years ago because I was in the office trying to complete an asset purchase transaction with APP. It was a nightmare as we hit several snags trying to complete the settlement procedures whilst adhering to our company's strict due diligence guidelines. In the end we had to exercise some flexibility given the normal standards of practices in Indonesia. We were also advised by our consultants to "Get Real' if we want to do business in this region. I remembered we were kind of mocked by how little we know of Sinar Mas' muscles and standing in the country. Later I found out that APP was amongst the largest paper and pulp companies in the world and our office's stationery supplier was one amongst many who import from them.

Well maybe it is time to have another deal with Sinar Mas again, this time perhaps to buy oxygen from their forests. As BT reported one Indonesian official as saying "Singaporeans complain when there are a few days of haze. What about the other 300 over days when we supply the fresh air?" Cheap paper or oxygen, your choice.

Now you know what I meant by having this sense of vulnerability.

Perhaps I have finally learnt

When, oh when will I ever learn?

Hasn't it happened before? Whenever I begin muttering to myself "Gone Crazy" once, twice and perhaps everyday for a week or weeks in a row it is The TIME to take some money off the table/stock market. And yet no, I have not learnt and will perhaps never ever learnt. And then in a mere 2 weeks all the gains from the beginning of the year was wiped out. I remembered distinctly how I actually laughed in glee way back in late 2007 whilst uttering "Gone Crazy!" "Gone Crazy", in a seemingly never ending euphoria for months before it was brought to an abrupt end followed by prolonged bewildered cries.

Three factors account for the failure to act (realise some profits), one-lack of confidence in one's own judgement, two- greed and fear of losing out further profits and three- inertia. The recent correction in the market has made me reviewed my investment strategies. What I actually meant is to review my approach in managing my investments such that it blends in with my present lifestyle or intended lifestyle. So I have to get to the truth in me whether I want money as an end in itself or as a means to an end and if so what type of ends (including an insatiable need to feel secure?). Then the next question is how much time I want to allocate to achieving this end (given that my religious teacher often cautioned against impermanence, uncertainties and what truly matters at the real end). Having decided on the time to be allocated and the information that can be realistically gathered within such time-frame I can then select the appropriate approach and type of investment strategies. To do this our habits must also be taken into consideration. For instance,if we can only feel comfortable spending the returns on our principal (foolish baby boomers often fall into this trap) we should then go for dividend yielding stocks and not growth/undervalued stocks (unless you are a brave trader). Buy growth stocks for what? Just to get the satisfaction of seeing a growing figure in your CDP statement whilst limiting yourself to the cups of Starbuck coffee per month?

Jim Rogers commented "I would start by looking at things that are depressed rather than things that are going through the roof". Hmm...For me I just want something that consistently delivers my daily bread. Yes I may miss the roller coaster thrill of bottom fishing, roof hitting and cliff plunging; but those are for stronger hearts not mellowed ones.

Deeper than Goo Goo Gaa Gaa

In the Sunday Times yesterday John Lui wrote a hilarious article about pet owners' incomprehensible behaviour towards their pets. In particular he wondered whether these people view the pooh from their lovely pets as organic fertilizer which can be left harmlessly by the roadside. He was also a bit offended when he followed a friend home once only to be ignored whilst his friend fussed over a pet cat. He didn't mind people posing pictures of pets on their facebook page but thinks them crazy when they referred themselves as mummy or daddy (of the pets).

Well he is referring to me although I never pose myself as 'mummy' to Miao2 in public. In the privacy of my home I am the crazy person he described when I 'goo goo gaa gaa' baby talk with her. This despite the fact Miao Miao aged 7 times as fast as I do. When she walked into my house in 2008 the vet whom we brought her for sterilization thought her to be around 3 years old. By now she should be in her early 30s,long past baby talking really. In fact in another 4 years she should be wiser than me.

That probably explains her usual resting pose, stretched and relaxed with one paw slightly in front of another whilst watching the world go by; so very different from a couple of years ago when she spent her leisure kicking and dashing after a crunched up piece of paper left on the floor. When my daughter told me that one friend's mother was in some sort of mental distress I suggested that the lady keeps a pet as a source of comfort. Apparently other than a psychiatrist couch Freud kept a dog in his office after noticing its therapeutic effect on his patients.

Sometimes when I am troubled I look at Miao2 in one of her troubled free pose or deep sleep, so safe and sound; it calms me down and helps me take a leaf from her. At other times when I want to share very deep feelings that I only share with myself in a diary, I can talk to Miao2 as an alternative. At times like these when she rises to brush against you and settles next to you, you know you have been heard with unconditional acceptance. Apparently Freud had a dog called Jofi who (from Freud's observation) often chose to be close to clients who were depressed and remained closed enough for them to touch it. It also had an accurate internal clock such that after a 50 min session Jofi would rise, stretch and walk to the door providing Freud with a smooth and natural way to end the session.

In his words Freud described his admiration for dogs for their "affection without ambivalence. And the simplicity of a life free from almost unbearable conflicts of civilisations, the beauty of an existence complete in itself."

That perhaps was what John Lui failed to understand about pets, how their "beauty of an existence complete in itself" inspires our own.