Strange thoughts at Redang

Had an idyllic holiday with my family at Redang Island, bathing in the crystal clear turquoise sea water, snorkelling for hours surrounded by shoals of fishes and gazing at big sea cucumbers and unspoilt corals.

Perhaps staying afloat in a life jacket (facing downwards) for hours may have affected my brains a little. Back at the beach, waking up from a nap, lounged on a deck chair in a paivlion draped with white chiffon curtains, I began to entertain strange thoughts. The soft drone of a far off motor boat, the chirpings of the birds, the figures dotting the sea, toddlers playing sand on the beach, people lazing on rows of deck chairs under attap sheds and insects buzzing around became part of a painting in a big white canvas. BUT a hundred years from that moment, not a single life in that picture would remain, no not even the corals beneath the sea. Yes all would have passed on and a totally new set of life will be there in its place. Perhaps a tree or a form of flora may be still around, otherwise none of the plentiful living things in this painting still live. And yes, such is the nature of the world, life moves on only to be replaced by others, there is no holding on.

In the evening, dining at the seaside restaurant, entertained by my daughter's amusing anecdotes and exaggerated descriptions of her classmates in New York, I was having such a good feeling when suddenly I thought to myself how good it would be if the world stood still at that moment forever. Yes I wanted that feeling to remain forever. The zest for new experiences and new adventures was in her blood whereas for me it was the wish to hold on to a good feeling. Therein lies the difference in needs between her and me.

Thinker, Feeler, Doer

Went for my second supervision (meaning I counsel someone under the watchful eyes of an experienced counselor). Argh......with feedback from first session, I tried to avoid the same mistakes second time round on a different client. Ha again backfired. See the first time I was told not to rush the client towards a goal when the client was not ready and just wanted to express her feelings. So this round I just paced the client and let her talk and reflect, talk and reflect moving in circles. At the end of the session the supervisor asked me whether I knew what the client wanted out of the counseling session? Huh? In my heart I said "I thought you told me I can not rush the client? Oh man you really confused me!"

Went home and over dinner shared about how my supervisor really confused me. My son just remarked "maybe circumstances are different ". That set me thinking. Counseling is of course no exact science. You can not apply a set of procedures throughout although you learn to give appropriate responses (externalised, personalised etc), try to help client see blind spot and how their thinking affects them; and various skills to guide clients to explore, understand and take actions. However fundamentally, each person is unique and the same set of intervention strategy can not be applied to another person. So a counselor needs to be intuitive and creative.
Not easy hhuh.

But what may help is to try and decipher whether the person is more of a thinking, feeling or doing person. So whilst the client for the first supervision is a feeling person, the client for the second supervision is a thinking person, hence I should not have led her round and round but should have gotten her to think what she really wanted.

Basically a thinker is one who analyses a lot but may risk ignoring his feelings and perhaps not acting. A feeler relies on emotions and is more subjective in his decision making process hence risking insufficient analysis and procrastinating as well. The doer is driven by the need to act and is not burdened by too much analysis and feeling. However he runs the risk of ignoring his feelings and not rationalising. We have all these in us, but one aspect may be more predominant. Hence understanding the type that the client belongs to may help the counselor find the open door to the client faster.

My Little Troll

During school holidays the attendance for the story telling session rises to around 30+ and can be quite difficult to manage. Yesterday to my huge surprise, 30 odd children sat through my story about the Little Troll, tracking his sadness and joy. I have learnt from experience the trick to hold their attention is to get a good story and add a lot of drama, almost like Johnny Depp in Choco Factory style (needless to say no parents are allowed to see me make a fool of myself).OK read on only if you have nothing much to do.

Well, trolls were little human like creatures, short, hunched, hairy, with a red rim round their small eyes, spoke coursely and loved to hiss and howl. Trolls hated human because human beings are tall, straight and speak smoothly. Well there was once this little troll that liked human a lot. He loved to hide behind rocks to observe how little children, woodcutter, farmer's wives etc behaved and talked. One day he ventured into the village church attracted by the sound of the church bell (Christians will love this). He peeped inside the church but because it was winter he couldnt see what was inside beyond some figures and the vague glow of candlelight But he knew there was something good inside which was beyond his reach, hence a tear rolled from his eyes and he went away and gave a long sad howl. (The howl that I gave out in that little room must have moved the children's hearts, for they fixed their sad little eyes on me and the room was quiet).
Coming back to the story, the little troll overheard a woodcutter telling his grandson to care for other people and be helpful otherwise he would be no more than a troll. The little troll now knew the main difference between human and troll. (Ye adults, hold your skepticism. I know you must be saying, "Are you joking? Humans caring?) Anyway from that day onwards the little troll quietly filled up the baskets of little children, woodcutters and women who went to the forest to collect flowers, berries, mushroom and wood. He also protected them from wild animals and falling trees. There was a girl who loved to go the forest to collect flowers. On the last day of autumn, on her last visit she asked aloud from whoever had been helping her but remained unknown, what he would like in return. Receiving no response she placed half her mid day lunch on a stone and was about to walk away when a hoarse voice requested her to breathe into the church window on Christmas Day so that one can see the inside of the church from outside. Meanwhile the little troll was thrown out by his kind because he had grown taller, straighter and his voice gentler. In the cold winter he felt he belonged neither to the trolls nor the human. Just then the church bells reminded him of Christmas. Ok the joyful end to all this was that the girl saw the longing eyes outside pressed against the church window when she went to breathe hot air into the window pane. She led him into the church with the whole congregation welcoming him. (Again adults suspend your cynicism and thoughts about how the troll may probably be bullied or something if he lived with them).

What My Little Troll led me into however was that I realised how much I enjoyed the aura of innocence and simplicity around me when I am with children. Perhaps this Little Troll is telling me that is an area I may explore further.

Unfortunate to be fortunate???

I belong to the generation of baby boomers who though had it rough in childhood, through the good luck of being academically inclined and armed with a college qualification, rode on the economic wave when Singapore moved from developing to develped status. I move in a small circle of colleagues,ex-classmates, husband's ex-classmates, all in similar mould who own private property, own club membership, car, goes for annual holiday and whose children mainly go to top 10 schools, JCs and on to university. Most are also Christians although this feature I run short of. Yeh, the lucky generation who suffered some hardship as a child, but lived comfortably for a long while from adulthood and expectantly thereafter.So amongst my counsins in my father's large extended family, you can see the marked difference in lifestyle between the acamdemically successful and the not so academically successful, other than the few entrepreneurial ones. My thought today is not whether this "protected" class and their offsprings will stay forever protected from the ills of economic and social upheaval, although this can be deliberated some other day. (See, many of the people in this class even have the means to make provision to ensure each of their children have a roof over their heads). My thoughts for today is that those who enjoyed privileges as something that comes naturally may feel deprived quite easily.

Hmmm.... what the heck am I talking about, I am a bit confused.Well, what starts me on this trend of thought was a small incident after taiji class this morning. My club rings off a certain area of the car park for taiji every Sunday morning until about 9.15 am when the class ends. The part fenced off is the area closest to the check in area of the swimming pool and the gym. This fencing off practice has inconvenienced people who have to walk about 50 meters to the check in area, for their weekend "Exercise Regime".Compliants have been lodged but sacrifices still have to be made for various activities. This morning just as the rope was lifted and whilst the taiji people were still milling in the area, a car sped across to the end. Wah, some alert driver who managed to avoid hitting anyone but who made his point felt.A family alighted with 2 young teenagers in tow. Some great lessons on give and take huh.

My point is the unfortunate thing about being fortunate is perhaps you feel a natural right to everything and is hurt and shocked when you do not have it. Calamities, misfortunes, financial struggles, accidents, handicaps are just what you read and watch in the news. They are unreal, they only happen to others, some in faraway land and some closer to home but in another area of town perhaps. And when someone in your "strata" gets windfall from enbloc, someone's kid got into medic school, someone's bonus equals his one year pay, someone made hell of a lot of money from betting on the right stock, (the list is endless), you may feel hey why am I so darn "unlucky" (hello I got masters leh whilst he just got ordinary degree). And then when say some imperfections in life occur, you will feel really shocked it happened to you, for example "I can't believe this can happen to me, my son can not get into the top JCs, or my daughter is anorexic or my wife quits her job due to what she claims to be too stressful (ahem) or the bloody neighbour on the 9th floor blocks the enbloc and now we will probably miss it" and so on. And if one continues to sail on and on and on in a fortunate state of perfect life, one will really be upset when " hell,I have to park my car 50 meters from the entrance".

A Ball of Colours in Us

I thank the person who gave the encouraging comment on my previous blog. Really there is a bit of everything in us, vanity inclusive. I believe even as there is a desire to help others (whether it is partially for self gratification), there is also the proud and egoistic self, all in varying intensities in all of us.

I think of every individual as a colourful being, a ball of blended shades. If say purple represents vanity then there is a deep purple in someone with a strong desire for glamour. The purple will just be one of many colours which constantly change in a continum . So if you will, there may be a stronger shade of pink today which may represent love and a paler shade of green, for being less envious of others; or for that matter a darker black the next day when you feel like murdering the boss.

In certain stages of our lives, we are more conscious of the colours in us and may wish to moderate the darker shades and invite into us certain colours which never have a chance to emerge.

Glamour/ Class

When I first started work almost 30 years ago, I was an accountant with a small but fast growing trading/manufacturing company run by a family of brothers (all professionals who left their jobs to help their eldest brother run the company). Eventually I left the company and moved on to a statutory board to learn a more structured system of doing things. My ex-bosses however requested that I helped them keep account of their personal investments. So for a few months, every alternate Saturday I made my way to their huge bungalow at Katong to help them keep track of their investments. I would have lunch cooked by their mother. The brothers adored and respected their mother because she toiled to bring them up under very difficult financial circumstances. After what seemed like an effortless task, she would sit at the marble table in the big kitchen,fanning herself whilst the maids did the cleaning up. She was the kind of old lady whose calm countenance and unruffled temperament must have given her children much strength in their growing up years. Her food was honestly very delicious and it did not need much pretense on my part to compliment her cooking. This image of her somehow etched in my memory.

This image could have given rise to some wild dreams (those which you sometimes indulge like jetting around the world in a private jet kind). I told my children how good it would be if one day they become CEO or something and have a open house. (Must really be as senior as CEO to ensure people bother to curry favour.) I would then whip up some dish and urge their subordinates to eat, saying it is cooked by me. I would then relish the compliments, lies and superfluous praises endowed on me. I would stay to banter and see them struggle with small talks with me, (hahaha, funny and half-sadistic dream).But alas my children will never be CEOs. They are more likely to be poor writers of unknown journals or some eccentric academics pondering about where the world is going.

Anyhow this is part of what glamour and 'class' is all about, and I am not surprised most people have some desires to be glamorous or classy albeit ranging from slight to raging. It can be achieved in various forms. So it was when Wendy Murdoch gave a twirl on the red carpet to show off her beautiful outfit for the paparazzi at a gala event (whilst Rupert Murdoch stood to one side giving his young Chinese wife the amused look). It is also the kind of feeling when people give you the second look, even though really it is at your wrist with the expensive watch or the branded bag on your shoulder or even your dainty pedicured toes on Jimmy Choo slippers (sorry don't know which watch and bag is most expensive!). It is also the SIA girls mollycoddling to ensure your comfort in business class (incidentally my daughter just swore she won't travel by SIA anymore because of the marked disparity in service for locals and foreigners even for economy seats). It is when you are a VIP at a business function and your host and his minions throng around to welcome you or when you are made to believe you are special by the private bankers (or deceived to feel special by priority banking executives). The list is endless varying for different age group and different social hierarchies.
Hmmm...as for me, being the Scrooge that I am and aiming for a career that only gives intangible rewards at most, I must think of some other means to get the glamour kick that I may need occasionally.

My progress or the lack of it (counseling)

Was quite busy with video recording counseling sessions as an assignment together with other written assignments to be handed up. I had my first supervision a week ago. Supervision refers to an apprentice getting feedback from a qualified and experienced counselor whilst you are counseling a helpee.
My supervisor complimented me for having what they term as a "hypnotic counselor voice", i.e. a soothing comforting voice which kind of hypnotize client to share and pour their hearts out.However my biggest drawback for that session was my eagerness to get the client to achieve something out of the session, i.e."pushing the client towards a goal". Supervisor commented that if the client wants to explore their feelings even for 10 sessions we have to pace the client. Only when the client is ready to change can we explore change together.
After the session, I joked with my classmates that with my "hypnotic" counselor voice, I can probably make money out of rich people like "tai tais" for instance who just feel good talking, rambling and venting, without wanting to change (eg. they don't really want to walk out of their wealthy husbands do they, hahaha).To assuage my guilt I will then apportion the other half of my time volunteering.

Today's papers about the mother who killed her 13 year old teenage son strikes me again that so many people really need help. Gosh, the boy could well be just one of the students whom I talk to. (I am a volunteer assistant school counselor). It is just so tragic, and the boy was known to be quite "bubbly" which means he and his mother probably aren't even candidates for counseling. The prevalent focus on economic well being has overshadowed people's emotional needs. So little resources is channeled towards netizen's emotional health; assuming the family support system will take care of it. I suggested once to the father of one of my students that there was little supervision at home. He then embarked on his long lament "You know how difficult it is to earn a living in Spore, when can I find time to monitor him ( I found out they stay in a condo ) . Anyway he has a long list of requests of the school including making his son stay back in school the whole day under supervision. Is this a question of shirking responsibility as a parent or is it a real life struggle between basic and 'secondary' needs, I don't know. ( Here I really mean I do not know and is not being sarcastic. I am still wondering.)

Then there is this self proclaimed rebellious girl whom I have a growing fondness. Into our second session I revealed to her a bit about myself which counselors should actually refrain from doing. She chatted passionately about what she likes and what she hates but didn't really disclose much about her family. She said she was offered tuition by her teacher and church friend which she flatly refused because she doesn't care about passing her exams. Phew! Asking her the reasons why she felt that way really put her off. At a loss myself , I sighed and exclaimed more to myself than to her (another no no ) "How come you always say I don't really care?" I didn't expect an answer really. After a long pause.... "You know why," she said " Because if the person who gave birth to you doesn't care about you, why should you care".