"That's It" or "Is that it?"

Attending a funeral and another wake on the same day make me feel kind of spaced out. If you have ever witnessed the procedure leading to the cremation at the Mandai Crematorium, you can not but feel that the last leg at the viewing gallery is really quite poignant. (I wonder whether it was designed that way with that purpose in mind. Please don't read on if you feel moody or think it morbid). See, from the viewing gallery you wait in silence looking down at quite a large room with inlaid tracks. The casket then emerges from below the gallery and one sees it moves slowly along the track vertically across the room towards an opened door at the opposite side of the room before it is out of sight and the door closes . It really brings out "the final journey" feeling.

He was my mother's younger brother, the eldest of 3 sons. My earliest memories of my life were images of my maternal grandmother's house where this uncle worked and lived. My family moved from Singapore to KL when I was 2 and I was left in the care of my grandmother in Singapore, until I was bigger and needed less care and attention. Both my grandmother and uncle doted on me. I remembered his workplace that overlooked an airwell on the second floor of a shophouse. I remembered how he would berate my grandmother's negligence if he ever noticed a slight bruise on me. I could remember his anxiety on one of my visits to a clinic in the hospital although I have forgotten what ailed me.

He was a tailor and an educated one. When young he attended an English School in the morning and a Chinese school in the afternoon. My grandfather hired a rickshaw to fetch him around. My grandfather also bought a gramophone and introduced western classical music to the children which this uncle appreciated deeply. The early privileged life of my mother's family came to an abrupt end when my grandfather passed away suddenly and the dire family circumstances were further aggravated by the Japanese occupation. This uncle then apprenticed as a tailor, a job which seemed quite appropriate for him as he was extremely reserved and hated company. In those days a tailor could work at home and was paid on a piece rate by the tailor shops. Had he been born later he would have been labelled as being an Asperger for he had severly impaired social skills. In those days matchmaking was common and there were many interested women as he was deemed quite cultured for a tailor. He read both the Chinese and English newspapers, kept himself abreast of world news, listened to Western classical music and interested himself in the biographies of the composers as well as the latest audio systems and technology. He remained a bachelor and when he became too old to sew he worked at various jobs as a garderner and security guard. In his twilight years he felt bitter over what he deemed as a lack of personal accomplishment. He lost interest in his hobby and stopped reading. His hi-fi set was left untouched and the records and tapes became mouldy. I am sure he would have been happier if he had continued engaging his passion for music and was less concerned with his status in society. In fact, he was more informed and knowlegeable than many a better educated person.

I bought a bouquet of white orchids and the undertakers placed it on top of the casket. As the casket with the bouquet moved across the room I thought about how we touched each other's life some 50 odd years ago. As he bade his leave I wished for him a peaceful after life. Whilst the doors closed upon us, I have a feeling that straddled between "That's it" and "Is that it?" That is what I meant when I said I am spaced out.

First Family Parenting

I read with a little amusement Lee Wei Ling's article "Letting go of old prejudices", not about its content but more on some glimpses of her behaviour. In the article she described how in 1995 she had a minor accident whereby she suffered a deep cut on her shin whilst working out in her hotel room in Sydney. She headed out on foot for the first aid centre at the venue where she was attending a convention which was 1.5km away. The guy in charge however directed her to the nearest hospital despite her jeans and socks being soaked with blood. Without finding more about the distance of the hospital, she stalked off. After repeatedly asking strangers about the direction of the hospital she finally found it after walking for 2 hour 15 min and arrived "not a moment too soon" as she described it. Only then did she realise she had no identity documents, cash nor credit cards with her. Fortunately the hospital staff were very kind and went all out to assist her which prompted her recalling the incident and writing this article.

Now I thought to myself, if my children has a similar encounter I would be reprimanding them for their carelessness or foolishness for rushing off without identity document and money, not finding out more about the distance and not getting help from the hotel reception etc etc. I am actually quite amused that even the all powerful MM and his wife can not do much about her rash behaviour. In fact from many of her articles, one can deduce she is quite a risk taker, having encountered and came out of quite a few dangerous situations . I also gathered that her parents still worry about her ability to take care of herself.

I know it is sadistic comfort but it does normalise our limits as a parent in moulding our children's character and behaviour. It somehow also makes this FIRST family seems very real. I think every family does have its own challenges bringing up children :)

The Whiner on National Day

Today is National Day and I shall be honest. I don't feel a thing beyond a small desire to go downtown this evening to watch the fireworks. Nothing can ever douse my fascination for fireworks; not even after experiencing the full impact at Athens on New Year's eve with the firework dust dropping into my very eyes. Now I forget who gave me all the opportunities that I can earn enough not only to feel secure but to be able to enjoy travelling to various parts of the world.

Hai! Yes I admit I am not a grateful person and much worse a great whiner too. Following the normal course of a whiner, I tried this morning to find an excuse for my lack of patriotism. Well I find comfort in the findings of a survey in Singapore that shows the elites are the least loyal in the country. Not to say I consider myself an elite but well there must be a external reason for this. Then I thought perhaps it is because I spent the best part of my childhood and early adolescence in KL. The school that shaped me was in KL and my alma mater focused on holistic education and was renowned for instilling the love of literature into its students. You may sense the alienation I felt when I stepped foot into Singapore with its very practical approach of turning out technocrats, eg. accountants and engineers in abundance.

Still becoming a technocrat relieved me from loads of worries about earning a living and helped build a reserve sufficient not only to feel secured but also allowed some small luxuries. But somehow, the heart still does not feel grateful, hai...
And then I would pursue the train of thought about Singapore being too utilitarian bla bla bla turning us into unfeeling robots bla bla bla...hence the voidness bla bla bla...

I have mentioned in previous blogs that I entertained thoughts of scaling down in Singapore and finding a second home somewhere else. I think that will somehow enrich my life. The only thing that holds me back is how to replicate in a foreign land the joy that I am experiencing now, engaging with our local children.

Perhaps there is still something in this land that tugs at my heart, the love for the little sons and daughters of its people.

We Need the time to read Novels

"If you play golf, chess, scrabble, start reading novels etc....you are going down" so says MM.

I don't know about playing golf, but I do know that if you don't read more novels when you are younger you will find never get to read much when you are older. If you think that you can reserve evening time for reading, you can forget it. After a couple of pages you will be trying hard to grasp what you are reading before drifting on to slumberland. In fact the best time to read is when your mind is fully alert ie. in the morning and after an afternoon nap. So if you don't intend to retire at all you will never get to enjoy reading; unless of course you are lucky enough to have a job that allows you to read during office hours.

Coming back to MM's comments advocating that we do not retire, I feel we really have to be very careful not to promote an utilitarian culture where people are valued only if they are deemed to be still productive. My fear is the psychological impact it may have on older folks who are incapable of finding work or who are limited by health and agility. Many may end up feeling useless and a burden to family and society.

In Jiu Zhai Gou, we were told by the tourist guide that old folks move to stay at the temples to pursue Buddhist studies. There is meaning and purpose in every stage in our lives, the final phase being one of consolidation and the discovery of the true "I". Let us not deprive ourselves of it.

They bring Hope

Extracts from "The Secret Spiritual World of Children" by Tobin Hart:

"Children can be our spiritual leaders. They lead us to love, sacrifice, responsibility, and all sorts of things which we hardly knew we were capable. As adults, we often think of our relationship with children as involving our helping them to develop but they help us grow as well. Development is mutual……..

There is something quite remarkable about the presence of a child that serves to activate our spiritual nature- our capacity for wonder, passion, communion and hope. …….. Our heart reaches out when we see a child in pain or danger. We soften, even melt, as a child stares softly at us or looks for a lap or a hug. We stoop down, become silly, want to draw in close and suddenly lighten as if gravity no longer has the same pull when we are in their presence..."

This 12 year old Indian boy is not my client but the elder brother of one. He occasionally drops in during recess to chat. He had been quite distressed over his poor maths grades which would send his tearful father retreating quietly to his bedroom. After some persuasion, the school teachers managed to get the father to consent for the boy to take Foundation Maths (a more basic syllabus) instead.

Yesterday was racial harmony day when children were asked to dress in their traditional costume to school. I was feeling rather down suffering a bit from parental guilt of some sort. A knock on the door was followed by the entrance of the boy dressed in his white Indian traditional costume. Something about him, the smile on his face, the cheerful countenance plus the all-white cottonly costume lifted me instantly. I remarked that he looked happy. He was pleased that he has topped the Foundation Math class and the school intends to move him to another class, a level of higher difficulty. He came in however to tell me about another secret "project" he is doing. He is planning to give his parents a big surprise on their wedding anniversary. He tries to save $2 a week but finds it a bit of challenge. He asked my opinion whether giving them a treat at Swenson will be a good idea. As he deliberated whether he should leave his parents to have their own private dinner and spoke about his parents revisiting the place where they met every anniversary I noticed the love he has for his parents just flowing out like a fountain. For a second I thought to myself, "He looks like an angel".

I have spoken with his mum before on the phone over his younger brother's behavioural problems. She had sounded so troubled, burdened and disappointed with her childrens' academic performance. What she didn't realise was she and her husband have imparted the virtues of Love (which inched up my own guilt a bit though). Nevertheless, hearing the boy spoke so lovingly of his parents I saw hope for the family. In a flash it reminded me that there is always hope admist any bleakness and was lightened "as if gravity no longer has the same pull".

Amazing Stories

I have mentioned before that metaphors work very well when working with kids. Recently I have done some research that suggest that narrative therapy is effective with youngsters too. It can be done in various manner, telling a story and reflecting on it or composing a story together, usually one which involves initial struggles and then mastering the strength to overcome them. After all, ain't all the religious teachings enriched with parables and stories? In fact there is this person called Kwame Scruggs who employs mythological stories and drumming as a means of healing psychological wounds whilst working with adolescent youths and male high school "drop-outs" in Ohio.

Borrowing a story of his entitled "Half-Boy", I shared it with two of my students. The story is about a boy who was born with half a body, ie. only the right side was visible whilst the left side was invisible and extremely weak. Of course the boy was ostracizsed and eventually,after a lot of pain, decided to leave the village. He then met another half-boy who had the same affliction except that he was only visible on the left side. Instead of becoming great friends, the 2 half boys had a great fight and went through a lot of struggles till they rolled into the river. When they emerged they became a complete wholesome boy. This is I think a great story to talk about with teenagers concerning feelings of incompleteness, things lacking in one's life, the internal conflicts one endures and the struggles to be more complete.

However with younger kids (ten and eleven) they may not necessarily see the analogy straight away. So I educate them first about the physical, mental, emotional and spiritual aspects of our lives that help make us feel more complete and whole. Explaining the spiritual aspect can be quite challenging as I suggest that it is not only about attending religious classes or going to church/temple but can also refer to activities like being with nature, connecting to the soul through art, music and journaling and having quiet moments. I then get them to think about it for further discussion at the next session.

I didnt think it will leave much of an impression on them and thought them a bit too young to understand. However I was rather surprised at the subsequent session when they seem to be aware of their needs. The ten year old boy declared " I lack this " pointing to the spiritual quarter ( I have drawn a figure with 4 parts on the board). Now this is a boy who is in the best class, represents school in scrabbles, is never satisfied with his performance and is arrogant and always trying to prove himself. The eleven year old boy's remarks that he needs help in both the emotional and spiritual aspects was less of a surprise to me. He is older and has been presented for counselling arising from frequent complaints about being stressful.

The fact that they remember the story well already proves that stories do leave an impression. They may not relate to the story immediately but may one day recall and draw some lessons from it. I was also rather surprised to learn of a true incident whereby a boy in the States plucked up enough courage to save a relative from the fast flowing waters during a flood. He was asked later where he pulled his energy from. He said the story about a little engine that pulled a broken down train across the mountain had suddenly surfaced in his mind and gave him the strength. The train in the story was carrying christmas toys for the children living on the other side of the mountain. As it went, the little engine had kept bravely puffing faster and faster, "I think I can, I think I can, I think I can." These words had resonated in his mind.

I had actually read this book before at one of my story telling sessions at the library. The book is entitled "The Engine that Could". Hmm... I wonder whether Obama read it when he was young and changed it to "Yes, We Can".

Lessons from Korean dramas

There is this Korean Drama shown over KBS channel 115, The Great Merchant. It tracks the life of the main female character from a small girl to becoming a great merchant. Just like the popular drama Da Chang Jin, it describes the determination, perseverance and fortitude of the character. Now I know why Korean Drama is so endearing to the aunties and maybe womenfolk in general. There is inevitably this male character who looms behind the heroine like a shadow, quietly giving all the support and care; and who will inevitably appear in the nick of time when she needs him most. In this particular drama, there were actually 3 guys standing behind her though she was deeply in love with the male lead. What seems to be common and so touching in both these epics is the presence of an everlastingly patient man who waits and stands behind the heroine whilst she matures and grows from strength to strength in her pursuit for her not so conventional dream under extremely difficult circumstances. I have heard that Da Chang Jin was a very popular drama amongst the Middle Eastern womenfolk because it relates to their inner dream to gain more freedom. The dream is further sweetened when backed by a powerful male (maybe not so easy to find even in Singapore not to mention in the Middle East, the backing I meant).

This drama is aired only during weekend evenings which is very bad timing indeed. So I missed many episodes. Last Sunday evening I just managed to catch the last 5 minutes when the male lead was stabbed. Since I will be going out again tonight I download from the web (Korean dialogue without english subtitles) to find out whether he survived. OH NO... how can they write such a script. My tears rolled when the guy died. After all those years of hardship when they overcame obstacles after obstacles together, HE DIED? They were supposed to be finally sharing their years together. How could the script writer be so cruel? Aren't stories and dramas meant to be therapeutic promising better times after steering through sufferings?

Another aspect which I doubt about such drama is whether there are indeed men who will stand by a woman even when their love is unreciprocated. I am sure you must have heard of Paul McCartney's widely known grief over the loss of his first wife and then not too long later about him remarrying. It is the same with Victor Khoo nearer home. However recently, my skepticism is checked when I heard over podcast about how certain people make us feel recharged whilst others are energy vampires. The psychologist encourages us to take notice of who these people are so that we can spend more and less time accordingly, if we wish to be happier. Helping others will also make one feel re-energised. It happened to me going back to school after the holidays. The interaction with and response from the children somehow boost my energy and generates good feelings. So it is quite possible for those supporting male characters in the Korean drama whose love is unrequited to continue supporting the heroine. They may feel good, energised and purposeful supporting someone they love; and may derive satisfaction watching her grow in strength and character.

Anyway the script-writer apparently has more up his sleeves. Towards the end of the episode that I watched, the heroine stepped out one day after a prolonged griefing process and grave illness to greet her friends and employees and continue to be their leader. This perhaps is her final hurdle and her best accomplishment; and probably a great model to many a women that they too can be strong in the absence of a man.