Enjoying your own performance

Went to watch the performance by US-based standup comic artist Ronny Chieng at the Esplanade with my daughter. Perhaps 90% of the audience were young people. Ronny made fun of stereotypes in various cities, of different culture, political orientation and generation. He draws rolling laughter from his enactment of typical familiar behaviour. The everyday situations acted out, the tone and language used is so authentically funny.

When he made fun of Asian parents and baby boomers, I felt the whole audience laughing at me because I was surrounded by millennials. His joke on baby boomers' obsession with WhatsApp was hilarious though. He lamented baby boomers' general inability to decipher fake versus true news and how annoyed he was with an uncle who constantly whatsapps fake news in the family chat group. He mocked the Chinese's love for money and Asian parents' stereotype expectation of their children. Needless to say his imitation of Trump and digs at white supremacy were equally entertaining.

However Ronny's show was really a lot of ranting and mocked frustrations accompanied by some slapstick kicks. It makes me wonder whether he himself is tickled or amused when he is performing. I asked this question because earlier on the same day when I watched the show I conducted a story telling session at the library. I told a very funny story. It could be the pictures in the book were really cute and funny or maybe the children's hearty laughter was so infectious, I found myself spontaneously laughing along with them as I told the story. It was really enjoyable for both the story teller and the audience.

According to the psychologist Peter McGraw comedy is  "equal parts darkness and light" and the best jokes "take something awful and make it silly". I think the standup comedians are very good at this. They have to master the art of playful ridicule without making people feel uncomfortable.

As for me as long as I laugh loudly while reviewing a book for story telling purpose, I know I will enjoy my own performance.

World in turmoil

Reading the newspaper these days can be quite overwhelming. Some days I hear myself sighing while turning every other page.

Raging forest fires, floods and landslides, poor harvest and extreme weather brought about by global warming sets my mind thinking about eventual apocalypse. The Syrian crisis and the plight of  refugees and illegal immigrants can be heart wrenching. Polarization in more and more aspects; political, religion, gender, racial, culture, class and increasingly inter-generation makes you feel that  everywhere one half of the people finds it impossible to comprehend and tolerate the other half. Statistics about mental illnesses on the rise especially among young people and prevalence of substance abuse challenges the definition of progress. The increasing number of animals facing extinction questions the rights the human specie has over others.

Of course there are news that makes me laugh like the cartoon on Trump's impeachment and reports on his brash dramatic rhetoric. A snigger or 2 lets out when I sense the bias and lack of objectivity in our local press. At most these news just draw light hearted cynicism. The truth is it is rare to find news that makes you feel happy or hopeful other than perhaps medical breakthroughs, for even AI and new innovations may not really promise a better life and may exacerbate greater social inequality. To top it all we must now decipher which is fake and true news.

In short reading the news makes you feel as if the world is in turmoil.

Currently I am watching a historical drama 楚汉传奇 about the final years of the Qin dynasty in 200BC China. The TV serial is very detailed in bringing out the calamity and tribulation faced by people in that era. The English subtitles repeatedly used the phrase "country in turmoil" as described by the characters of the show.

Such then is the world from time in memorial. For generations during certain time pockets people have felt as if the world is in turmoil. Our era is certainly no exception. If for generations people have lived through them so will we. The important thing is to maintain an internal balance in observing the turmoil. 于诸 境上，心不染

Opportunity to heal

My fitness class instructor does not like me. It is plain for all to see, though my classmates tell me to just ignore his nonsense.  I have very low co-ordination and observation skills and thus have difficulty following his movements. It also does not help that I can't follow the pace as well.

He exhibits either avoidance by passing over my spot or when he really can't take it comes over and exaggerates the correct steps before my very eyes. Today he came over and threw his arms and feet about in a frenzy way telling the class this was how I look. He then preached about control of body movement to the class. Though I laughed along I felt sore and was peeved inside. My daughter does not understand why I put up with such a instructor who seems frustrated in training seniors.

I questioned myself why I felt upset . Nobody in my class was amused in an impolite way. I drew parallel to my childhood experiences in a renowned primary school where many rich people sent their daughters. Those days a class teacher taught almost all the subjects other than art and physical education which meant if you were not in the teacher's good books you suffered for at least a year. Being neither clever nor rich in class when I was in primary 5, I belonged to the lowest caste in the eyes of my class teacher who was often showered with home baked cakes and puddings by parents. I was either ignored or made an example of for any inadequacy. There was an incident where my foolish answer to a question generated such incredulity that she roared and writhed in prolonged 'wicked' laughter with the whole class as a chorus. That incident tops the list of dreaded ridicule I have ever suffered in my life or at least in my memory. As in any conditions there are causes and effects. The good effect on me is that I refrain from ridiculing any one intentionally to cause shame or embarrassment. The bad effect is a heightened sensitivity to shame and ridicule so much so that I loathe to be the odd one out in any circumstances, in a deemed negative way ie. not in accordance with social norm or approval.

To process this childhood imprint I must take this opportunity offered by my fitness instructor 5 decades after that childhood insult. Looking back at this morning's incident I find it rather amusing and how ridiculous my reaction was. If after the hurt I can laugh at the superficiality of it all, I should be able to erase the imprint of my childhood and be a character unmoved by silly perceptions of others. After more than half a century it is time to heal.

Remembering my Taiji master

More than 20 years ago the Serangoon Gardens Country Club started a taiji class. I belong to the first batch of students learning under a Master sifu . Several runs followed. All the students from the various runs who stayed on to practice every Sunday morning do so under the guidance of his son. This has been going on for more than 20 years. The old sifu will drop in occasionally to observe and correct our movement. Our practice includes 2 taiji styles, 2 fist forms, broad and thin sword form and stick form. As time goes by we evolve into our own habitual style and though the son (who leads us) occasionally corrects a participant whose movement is grossly out of alignment,most times he leaves us to our own devices.

Recently, the old sifu passed away at the age of 84. We attended the wake and our practice was suspended for a week . The Sunday morning when class resumed my mind kept travelling back to more than 20 years ago at that very same location and how young and fit sifu looked then; and how I too was very young then, a career woman trying to de-stress and keep fit while juggling between work and family. I thought about how skillful this man was who had taught ministers and MPs in his younger days. When I looked at the trees and the space above me while going with the flow of the movements, thoughts about death and impermanence surfaced.

It dawned on me that no matter how much skills he imparted, the perfection and precision went with him.  At most, they will be watered down. It is the same with whatever things we leave behind, a matter of fading memories. Strangely, as if he feels he must keep his father's skills alive, the son started to correct our movements the following Sunday. I imagined the old sifu smiling among the trees.  

The son has now announced he will be giving us refreshers ie. correcting our wrong movements bit by bit. I guess the least we can do is to try to uphold the skills imparted by the departed.