活着 (To Live)

Every Chinese New Year I visit my aunt, my father's elder sister. My father has 5 sisters and 2 brothers. Only 3 aunt and one uncle are still living, inclusive of this aunt who is 91 this year. Hers is a life which plays out like a TV drama.

As my grandfather passed away rather young, the elder son and daughters had to help earn money to support the family. Hence my aunt worked as a laundry woman whilst my father was an apprentice tailor. My grandmother was a very cold woman and never showered affection on the children. Even as a child, I remembered feeling the cold air in her presence.

This aunt married a relatively well to do man who ran a tailoring business supplying unforms to government hospitals and ministries. They have 2 sons and 4 daughters. As she did not receive affection she perhaps did not know how to show it to her children too. I remebered my cousins telling us they had never once been hugged or received any "molly coddling" from their mother. On top of that my uncle, the husband of this aunt, was a strict man who punished the kids by belting them. You can imagine the environment my cousins grew up in which explains the drama in each of their life.

My aunt's eldest daughter ie. my eldest cousin was influenced by the Communist movement that infiltrated the schools in Singapore in the late 50s. After high school she left home for studies in Beijing without her parents' knowledge and consent. That would mark the beginning of years of hardship during the Chinese Cultural Revolution and many more years before she could see her parents again. Disillusioned with the regime she later applied for permission to leave China. Finally she managed and left for Hong Kong where she had a pretty tough life, refusing financial help from her family. She also had breast cancer but is now cured.

My aunt's eldest son on the other hand was never such an idealist. Instead he joined the street gang in his teenage years. One year my aunt went to temple and the oracle stick predicted misfortune for this gangster cousin. My aunt prayed to Guan Yin and asked to bear part of the misfortune on his behalf. That year she met with a car accident and fractured her arm. To this day her forearm is a bit mishapened and has a deep and long scar. In the same year my cousin was involved in a gang fight and had all four fingers in one hand severed leaving just the thumb. He had used his hand to shield a parang that was aimed for his head! Upon recovery he was promptly despatched to Malaysia to help an uncle run a pawnshop and to be away from the street gangs. In later years he took over his family business. He is handsome, intelligent and attracts women like a magnet. He is now a divorcee and continues to change his constant companion rather frequently.

My 3 other female cousins have less drama in their life but do have their fair share of struggles. One cousin has a bout of depression which she managed to overcome. Another went through the pains of an adulterous husband whom she later divorced. Yet another had to put up with her demanding male chauvinistic husband. But which person does not have their fair share of struggles.

The youngest son in this family leads a life which also runs like a tv script. As a teenager he dated a distant cousin. Both families objected to their relationship and they were forced to break up. He graduated as an accountant and married another accountant. He then left for UK with his wife. Years later both husband and wife mutually agreed to embrace Buddhism as their life's focus. Hence one became a monk whist the other joined a buddhist nunnery in UK. A few years back my cousin defrocked and moved to Canada. Recently on his trip back to Singapore he met up with his childhood friend who is now a divorcee herself. I was told by my aunt they just got married. Both are 60 years old. What a big circle they have come.

All this may sound very gossipy but such background information is crucial before one can fully appreciate the drama my aunt has gone through. The point is I have been perplexed about the manner my aunt handled all these occurrences. Indeed her famous phrase in Cantonese is bu li ta men (don't care about them).But the fact that she asked to bear part of her son's impending misfortune undermines the sincerity of her "bu li ta men". She is also very frank and candid and never feels the need to hold back any information out of embarrassment. Indeed she often narrates an event ike a reporter, stating the facts with little emotion, occasionally punctuating her sentences with hollow laughter. Always the "bu li ta men" would be the concluding statement. I try to analyse which of the following possibility applies to her. Is she born without an emotional antenna or maybe possess one which is a poor receiver. Or could it be that she intentionally or subconsciously builds a screen around the emotional antenna to block transmission. Or could it be she adopts an acceptance attitude which Eckhart Tolle in his book "A New Earth" describes as accepting the "suchness" of things; almost like the characters in the Chinese movie "Huo Zhe" (活着). I can not really tell which of the above applies to her. However I am certain of one thing. She finds it stupid to worry and she often chided my mother, the great worrier. Another famous phrase of hers is dan xin you shen me yung (What is the use of worrying).

I am sure everyone knows of someone like that in their circle, someone who lives through life's upheavals and takes them in their stride. Perhaps these people live such that others can draw strength from their example to 活着.

Prejudice

I received my primary and early secondary education in a Christian school in KL. The principal was a devouted Christian and practised all the virtues of one. She was the "angel" whom many girls modelled their life and faith. I too was a Christian until I came to Singapore and drifted from the religion. As irrational as it sounds, I became rather prejudiced against Christianity largely due to my disgust with the hipocratic behaviour of many Christians in school (which was later reinforced by those at work). As I grew older and the intellectual mind became more dominant, Christianity could no longer stand up to my logical interrogations. Faith was needed but it did not surface. I look for a belief that is more inclusive and not exclusive.

Yesterday I had a session with a 10 year old child who is his teacher's bane. His conduct distracts the class and the teacher breathes down his neck. She calls his mother who beats him up whenever she is stressed by the teacher's call. That makes him hates the teacher more and he becomes more rebellious which then of course makes him act out further, in short a vicious circle in full swing. Teacher declares she has tried both soft and harsh methods to no avail. No amount of trying on my part, directly and indirectly, to reframe his negative opinion of his teacher helps. After breaking down in bitter tears, the boy declares flatly in my face he will never change unless he is transferred to another class. We sat quiet for quite a while. Fortunately we are taught in counseslling class that it is alright to be silent. It gives time for both counselor and client to reflect. On this occasion I was actually at a lost what to do. After a while, he started to mumble, "I hate everyone, I love no one, I only love Jesus".

We talked a bit about how he knows Jesus although he doesn't attend Church. In that instance a hymn which I sung in my primary school started to play in my mind and I started singing:
" In my needs Jesus found me
Put his strong arms around me
Brought me safe home, into the shelter of the fold"

"Hey you also know Jesus?" the boy exclaimed.

So I spent the rest of the session teaching him to sing the song and explaining the meaning of the lyrics like "In my needs" and "shelter". I wrote the lyrics on a piece of paper for him and told him to look at it when he is distressed in class.

He requested that I bring books about Jesus for the next session. "Bring many books about Jesus," he said.

Sure, I will do that; in fact I will be using Jesus at least till I figure a better therapy!

Also as irrational as it sounds, I became a tinge less prejudiced.

Modes of Healing

Sometimes bits and pieces of your past experience and knowledge come together in a moment like a jigzaw. Many years before I obtained my Master in Counselling, I pursued an education known as "Holistic Counselling" offered by a College in Australia, as a part time student. Amongst others, the syllabus included Claywork & Artistic Therapy, Colour & Artistic Communication as well as Visualisation, Sound, Gesture and Movement Therapy. Although I found the Artistic Communication, Sandtray and Claywork useful, I was quite sceptical about the visualisation, sound and gesture bit of the course. I remembered thinking it a bit weird to ask your client to step into the pain, be with it or exaggerate it, step out, draw it and ask yourself what kind of sound or image can help to wash away the pain. With that image in mind (usually an archetype image) the client is then asked to make the gesture and sound to dissipate the wounded part. A bit of a mumbo jumbo I thought.

My current dealings with children and observing how they express so well with media like art and play therapy check my sceptism on the therapeutic aspects of visualisation and movements. I remembered a session with a child of ten who needed moral support to survive living with a divorcee mum who has several short relationships with her partners. He was wriggling on a sofa instead of sitting up straight. I asked him who he was to which he replied he was an earthworm. He wanted to bury himself inside the earth and to hell with what was going on above him.

I have of late been listening to the web broadcast on discussions of the book "A New Earth" and I got a tip about supporting children who are living in the crossfire of their parents' negative emotions. The main thing was to help them "awaken the witnessing faculty" ie. to be aware that they are not part of this war. How well this connects with what I observed in the child and his gestures as an earthworm to validate his feelings.

Another tip from the book is to accept your emotions instead of trying to push them away. For example, if you have guilty feelings about your role as a parent (which I discussed in my previous blog), you should just accept that feeling as part and parcel of parenting. So instead of telling yourself you hate the guilty feeling which makes you even more sad, angry and what nots, you tell yourself this is a common feeling amongst parents and it comes with parenting; and who ever says parenting should be a one joyous journey huh? Accepting the "suchness" of things helps you to be more compassionate toward yourself.

But coming back to my original discussion about the gesture and visualisation bit. A few days ago I was having some sort of anxiety episode and feeling most uncomfortable. Instead of hating it, I told myself to try and accept it. "OK it is here to stay," I told myself. Then the old teachings from my Holistic Counselling course rattled in me and I thought why not try it on myself; and this was how it went:

Which part of my body hurts and how does it feel? Answer-My heart, it is tight and I am like a bit breathless.

What does it look like, the pain, describe it? Answer-It is like a small cut in the heart, a bit of blood is tricklings out whilst a small knife is softly prying the wound.

Stay with it for a few moments.

What can help heal the wound (visualisation)? I thought a while. Answer- I think a large leaf with medical herb (like the one used by the Egytian nomads on the burnt body of the English Patient) can ease the pain.

I apply that medical leaf over my little wound. I kept that image for a long time. I felt its healing effect which slowed down my breathing. Hmm... you know what, I fell asleep afterwards.


( I am rather pleased with this trial. I shall continue working on it. Perhaps the issue wasn't that big, hence doesnt take a lot to overcome. Perhaps it was after lunch too. Still, doesn't it resonate with play therapy when children imagine the desired outcome in their play? )

Toughest Job

I continue my reading of "A New Earth" and also watch its author Eckhart Tolle conducts classes with Oprah Winfrey on the web. I come to know that children absorb negative energy emanated by their parents. Eckhart says each of us has what he terms a "pain-body" which is an energy field of accumulated emotional pain. Hence your anxieties, anger, insecurities etc can unfortunately be sponged up by your kids too.

Furthermore when parents fight, the child picks up the emotional pain. Even if the parents make a conscious effort not to fight in the child's presence, the under current and negative energy prevailing in the home environment is sensed and absorbed by the child.

Honestly, parenting is such an ardous task, don't you think. First of all we are not taught or trained the techniques of good parenting despite its importance (there is no universal fool proof manual). We have to depend on our own intuition and good intentions to act in a manner we hope will be best for the children. Then again what is best for our children is not as obvious as we choose to believe for the simple reason that we are not our children. Often the lessons we learnt from our own life experiences and upon which we apply our judgement and decision-making may not be relevant for our children. Not only because their character and constitution is different but also because their aspiration differs due to the differnt environment they grow up in.

Then there is always the dilemma of how much we should stretch them to develop their potentials before they snap. How many knocks can strengthen them and which one will be a real knock out. In addition, do we emphasise the practical aspects of livelihood lest they become poor starving artists; or do we encourage them to chase their dreams lest they lead a regretfully mundane and unfulfilling life.

And now this added responsibility of making sure we do not emanate negative energy, (when we wish we know how to shake them off ourselves). This coupled with the countless times we are often misunderstood by them, makes parenting the number one toughest job on earth. Toughest because it hurts so much more when we deem we have failed.

(on a brighter note- this common feeling of guilt is something we need not worry too much. Perhaps this can be the subject of another blog)

Spring Cleaning- in a mood for garbage

These 2 weeks I psycho myself into doing spring cleaning on the justification that I would never have the energy once my work at the school begins (even though it is a part time job :) The amount of dust in the endless cabinets surprised me and I questioned the diligence of my maid (and YES, she has left TWO YEARS ago!) Every spring cleaning exercise reminds me of my deceased mother, not the least because I still keep some of her momentos which she bought during her tours overseas. But more so because it brings to mind very vividly the feelings and experience we had when my siblings and I were emptying my parents' flat before we rented it out.

My mother passed away rather suddenly some 9 year ago after a fall and short illness. After a few months of staying on his own with the maid, we decided that it was safer for my father to stay with my brother. Hence we had to empty the flat and rent it out. By common standards, my mother was a neat person and like most of us was plagued or blessed whichever you deem, with a dose of sentimentality. So as we emptied the wardrobes and cabinets there were quite a few unusual finds. There were those Christmas gifts which I bought her year after year since I started to earn a living. Then there were decorative pieces which I left in my room after I got married and moved on. They were tucked into boxes that filled larger cardboard cartons. We had a hard time deciding whether to throw or to keep and if so, who then amongst us was to keep. It was kind of fun when the item was clearly identifiable to the purchaser and the decision could be easily delegated. However there were lots more items with unknown origin or which were clearly bought by her. Every of such item will be held up for a consensus to keep or throw. I remembered we spent quite a few weekends doing this until people lost steam, dropped out of the game and the remaining ones made quicker decisions mainly to dispose. I have 4 siblings and my parents stayed in a 3 room flat.

Warped as it may seem whilst I am doing my own spring cleaning I just can not help but think of the exercise which my 2 children will have to go through when I depart. At best, by mathematical calculation, and if I am as neat as my mother, they would have to spend 6X the time we spent (there being 8 rooms in my present house including bedroom ,living and dining compared to my parents' 3 room flat; and the task of tidying being shared between 2 children instead of 5). Somewhat this thought instills a sense of responsibility to throw items which I do not miss or have forgotten they even existed. It also keeps my sentimentality in check.

Another memory which is quite unforgettable was this feeling of unpredictability of life. Like some of the stuff she left behind were bought just so recent and in the kind of quantity or quantum meant for a "going concern" (in corporate terms really).Things which were exclusively hers like cosmetics, accessories, toto & 4-D betting slips etc. Such things renewed pain and feeling of loss I remembered.

Gosh what a warp subject. But I must end on a happier note. My mother always mentioned in passing in Cantonese that the amount of wealth and fame a person has is destined. My mother was also a worrier. From her life experience, I have another conclusive prinicple which is, in addition to wealth and fame, the amount of worrying one has to endure is also destined. She passed away a few months just before 9/11, the Sars outbreak and also before my brother was retrenched from his banking job.

Fulfillment? Do we need it?

Over the weekend a party was organised for an ex colleague who retired. It was a heartwarming gathering of about 30 people who worked with an organisation for years together before going separate ways, after some massive organisational restructuring. Somehow I felt that the people in the room were once brought together by some unseen hand such that an indelible experience and pleasant memories were ours to keep and treasure for years.

On the big wishing card I wrote something like wishing him a fulfilling retirement. Reading the book "A New Earth" and reflecting a bit about my own early retirement afterwards, I felt I have penned wrongly. What on earth is a "Fulfilling retirement?" Gosh! Ain't I putting pressure on him to feel "fulfilled" when he can just go all out to be himself. Isn't the constant quest for fulfillment in a person a sign of an underlying sense of incompleteness.

Ekhart Tolle discusses our continuous quest for more; and our constant worries about not being good enough (compared to others). A sentence from the book reads "You will always be looking for something else that promises greater fulfillment, that promises to make your incomplete sense of self complete, and fill that sense of lack you feel within." So the ego in us finds ways and means to feel complete,special or one up over others. It may be the quest for material things and status, to be powerful and in control of others; or perhaps buiding an image of being someone who has it ALL. Alternatively one may feel that instead of pursuing wealth or having lost the means to do so, chooses to be involved in charity work to feel like a person with more "substance" than others. I am rather aware of my own need to feel "useful" to feel complete. Hence I try to check my intentions before I act. Ah! If only we can stop seeing ourselves in the eyes of others.

Ok when I next meet my colleague who retired, I shall tell him, "Eh balek balek, I want to rewrite my wishes for you. I wish you will find peace and contentment just BEING yourself"

The Need to have them

Ajahn Brahm (from the Buddhist Society of West Australia) in one of his talks wondered why people are often so busy taking pictures instead of staying with the moment taking in the scene before it is gone.

This is the dilemma I faced during a family trip to Athens and Santorini recently. The sights are simply gorgeous and breath taking. You want to capture them before they are gone. In doing that however you view the beauty at that instant only through the tiny screen of the camera. Nevertheless you want to possess it forever; but the photographs will never ever be the same as those scenes before your very eyes.

In the Acropolis museum, a magnifient attempt is made to piece the fragmented original ruins of Parthenon (temple at Acropolis). Like patchwork, the missing pieces are substituted with cast copies. There are several signs that say the missing original pieces are now at the British Museum and the Louvre.


Apparently in the early 19th century Lord Elgin of England removed everything from the Parthenon that was removable. Their reasoning was had they not then someone else would have and in bringing these pieces back to England they were protecting history.
A visitor can not help but feel disgusted with this crazy desire to possess which robs the wholeness and sanctity of the original.