Got to do the best we can

 

I have never recalled being so uncomfortable for so long a period in such unbearable heat. Asia is suffering from an intense heat wave and the forecast of El Nino in the coming months offer no relief. In fact we are expecting worse, dry season and haze from forest fire. 

An article in the Times titled "Where we'll end up living as the planet burns" quotes a research:

'....depending on scenarios of population growth and warming, 1 to 3 billion people are projected to be left outside the climate conditions that have served humanity well over the past 6,000 years. ....In the absence of migration, one third of the global population is projected to experience mean average temperature (that are currently found mostly) in the Sahara.'

A tropical island like Singapore will be included in the list of uninhabitable place on earth.

So I was aware of the severity of climate change but just nonchalantly did what I can to minimise my carbon footprint sans travel. I wasn't too worried because things won't go so drastically wrong during my lifetime or even that of my adult kids. On unbearably hot days the sight of little kids running around made me think (in an unaffected way) these 'poor' children will have to find ways to adapt to climate change. In fact I was more affected when I discovered my plants in the garden being scorched. I felt more for the farmers whose crops were wiped out.

However now that I am a newly minted grandmother, news and reports about climate change draw grave concerns many times over. It now hits me hard that my grandchild's future is jeopardized and she will face loads of challenges including weather related calamities, food shortages, migration and even war over livable land. I feel angry and sad. Angry that we have been so uncaring about our planet, sad that our grandchildren will never have it better, as each generation in the past assumes the next should be.

What explains the change in attitude? Was it selfishness in the past? Is the biological instinct to protect one's offspring kicking in now? Whatever you call it is now a pressing anxious feeling every time I come across a doomsday climate change report.

"We are the first generation to feel the impact of climate change and the last generation that can do something about it."- Barack Obama

Eyes that talk

 

In an article in the ST on 7 May 2023, a journalist describes her experience attending a a class in clowning. Participants were taught how to use their bodies to play, connect and make one another laugh.

One tip shared by her teacher interests me. To try to make the group laugh she told the class to look at one person in the audience 'as though you are in love with him, and wink'. 'Eye contact is key to good clowning'.

This idea made me recall a workshop which I conducted recently for children aged 11 to 14 whose parents divorced. This was my first time running the workshop for an older age group. I have all along been conducting workshop (for children caught in between parents' conflict ) for the younger group between 6 to 10 years. Whilst the younger group workshop requires more activities to catch and retain their attention, the structure of the older group workshop is more content heavy.

2 boys aged 13 and 14 seemed to convey to me their feelings and their thoughts when they looked at me in the eyes. They were not very vocal which is common among boys not wanting to share their experiences in front of others, but when I spoke of the normal feelings and misbeliefs children from divorce families have, the way they looked deep into my eyes told me they could relate to what had been said. Such response also drew me closer to them like breaking a barrier which helped me connect like a friend or mentor. I was touched by the intense look I got from them when I spoke of strategies to help them cope.

The article went on to quote a clown doctor (therapist) who said "if there is no eye contact, there is a decreased likelihood of interaction........There must be a breath, a moment of recognition.....You see me, and I see you. We are now sharing this moment'.

As the saying goes, 'Where words are restrained the eyes often talk a great deal'- Samuel Richardson

Zen garden or miniature jungle

 

I love visiting temples in Japan with zen gardens. Using just rocks, gravels or moss they exude calmness and peace conducive for meditation.

When we bought our house more than 2 decades ago the first thing my husband and I readily agreed on was to plant a tree in the small front garden. Over the years the mango tree has spread its roots making it difficult to grow grass underneath. I had dreamt of a garden with just a tree and a green lawn like the minimalist Japanese zen gardens. Instead the garden now looks like a miniature jungle. 

We laid plastic sheets on some parts of the ground and poured soil on top to create small flower beds. We grew ferns and bamboo grass in them. To adorn the rest of the garden we use potted plants. A few pots has grown into a huge collection. Yes the garden is really like a mini jungle.

It is my daily habit to place my palms on the trunk of the mango tree for a couple of minutes every morning to absorb its positive energy (as advised by a new age teacher). During this time I would be observing the bark of the tree, the plants in the garden as well as the birds and insects all around. Watching the ants crawling in a line on a branch, watching the birds taking nectar from the flowers and noticing hosts of other tiny insects always makes me wonder how many gazillions of living creatures there are in our world. Spending time attending to each plant in the garden has also brought me lots of joy like the delight of sighting the first bud or feeling the softness of the lush fern leaves.

I would now think twice of replacing my miniature jungle and its myriad of uniqueness, with a zen garden of a solitary tree and lawn. I guess the former helps one to feel part of a larger whole while the later provides the quietness to look within oneself. Both are necessary. If only I have a home that accommodates both the jungle and the zen garden.