A Rainbow Promise

Last weekend I had a gathering at my place. As one of the toddlers was afraid of my cat, we had to usher her out of the house to the backyard, unceremoniously perhaps by my husband. That afternoon after briefly coming home for awhile when the kids have left, the cat disappeared missing supper and breakfast cum lunch the following day. That was the first time Miao Miao (that's her name) disappeared for so long. Co-incidentally my niece's beloved Schnauzer whom she normally brings along for the gathering was hospitalised and passed away the following day.

By early afternoon the next day when there was no sign of Miao2 I began to walk the whole neighbourhood. This was after I have unashamedly called out her name several times from all corners of my garden and backyard. I am sure all the neighbours would have remarked about that mad woman looking for her cat again. I peeped into each house along the whole street and walked the small park at the end of the road where stray cats use to roam, to no avail. I began to really worry because she had missed 3 meals which never happened before.
Then I started to imagine all the various possibilities.

1. As my husband suggested, she might have been kidnapped or under house arrest. Though old she is still a very pretty Siamese cat with shades of beige and brown fur, blue eyes and brownish black points.

2. She might have been hurt or trapped by fences or branches whilst roaming. She once had to be rescued from my neighbour's roof top.

3. She might have died fighting some other street cats at night or run down by a car and gone to heaven together with the Schnauzer.

4. One of my neighbours may have been so frustrated with her trampling on their garden that he put her in the car and deposit her far away.

5. She might have been fed by someone the day before and was sleeping in some sheltered spot in one of the neighbour's house as suggested by my daughter.

By evening the next day I was almost in tears imagining her suffering in some strange place, be it trapped or hurt. It was made worse when a very heavy thunderstorm started. I imagined her being drenched and soaked to the skin. I mumbled to my daughter all my worries and I said "She walked into our lives ten years ago and now she just walked out." When the storm became a drizzle I started to call out her name again, intuitively thinking that the thunder and rain would have awakened her if she had fallen into a long long catnap. When nothing happened I began to despair. All of a sudden when I looked up at the sky I saw a rainbow. I felt so hopeful sighting the rainbow. It was as if the rainbow told me everything would be fine. I snapped a picture of the rainbow and close the gate. That was when I heard the familiar meowing coming from the back. I rushed in and hugged Miao2, scolding her for making me so worried whilst drying her fur with a towel. My daughter laughed and chided me for suspecting that our neighbours are sadist kidnappers.

It just goes to show that when a person is desperate all kinds of unbecoming thoughts descend. Yet a natural sign like a rainbow uplifts the heart. I still wonder where Miao2 had gone for so long. When my niece posted a remark in her Facebook about the Schnauzer having crossed the rainbow bridge, I wondered whether Miao2 had fallen into a long long slumber to accompany him half the way to the rainbow, and then came back as the rainbow promised me.

Insight into the struggles of low income parenting

I am half way through with the book "This is What Inequality Looks like" by Teo You Yenn which is exactly what the title suggests in the context of Singapore. Despite my past and present opportunity to engage with people and children from the lower income households whilst working/volunteering in schools, counselling centres and children's home, the extent of stress and challenges faced by these parents and children are far worse than I imagine. A couple of facts strike me empathetically.

Many parents from low income household hold jobs not only involving shifts but may demand changes with very short notice. This is made worse if they have to hold more than one job to support the family as in the case of single parents. Such irregular working hours make it extremely stressful to arrange for child care centre services which operate on regular working hours. Many have to rely on relatives or neighbours to pick up the children daily or at last minute ad hoc requests. Often the children are left to their own devices at home which is a constant worry for these parents. I have experienced the anxiety entrusting an unsupervised maid to take care of my kids at home when they were toddlers. I can imagine the level of stress these parents have thinking about kids left home alone. Apparently when these mothers can not find work which fits into their child care schedule they just have to forgo working and live on much less income.

Another fact of life which I never would have realised involved teenage children in the low income households. Teenagers from middle income families rely on their parents to a far greater extent than those from low income families. This includes allowances and attending classes outside school be it tuition, enrichment classes, sports coaching or dance class. Their time is fully engaged and their activities monitored by their parents. In contrast many of their peers from lower income households have to work part  time to support themselves or family. This gives them a sense of independence and freedom in their choice of social life which often challenges the authority of their parents, who often worry about their teenagers not attending school and mixing with the wrong company.

In her interaction with low income households, the author often hear parents telling their children, "study hard don't be like me" or laments like " I want my children to not be like me". She then observes that "one of the profound difficulties of parenting while low-income is that one has to parent in a social context where one is, and knows that one is, negatively judged as a parent". Parenting teenagers under normal conditions in itself is already not a breeze with their constant desire to challenge authority, what more if the authority figure tells the teenager to do this and that but "don't be like me", what credibility does the advice carry.

I am just half way through but this book certainly makes me realise how shallow is my understanding of the predicaments faced by parents from low income households. In addition I can now visualise better the circumstances my little friends in the Children's Home grow up in.

Feelings from the heart

What should be your response when an 8 year old girl utters "I was upset when my mother told me my father passed away" and then minutes later " I was sad that my father went to prison 3 times before he died".

We were playing a game using 'Feeling Cards'. Each player takes turn to display and describe a feeling card in his/her deck which include emotions like 'sad, upset, embarrassed, guilty, scared, angry etc'. I had put down my 'upset' card citing an upsetting situation when my own children didn't listen to me. When the girl placed her 'upset' card and talked about the passing of her father I thought she didn't have a 'sad' card in her deck, hence using the closest word available.

I then delivered my 'sad' card sharing about the passing away of my mum many years ago. That was when she put down her 'sad' card mentioning her father's incarceration when alive, looking straight at me with those lucid eyes of hers, half sad and (in my mind) also trying to detect my response. She said her father was in prison 3 times before he died. It didn't come as a shock to me that her father was ever incarcerated as many children in the Home come from similar dysfunctional families. It did however surprised me that she finally talked about it. I knew she was trying to detect whether there was scorn, despise or shock in my face. Research has shown that the stigma and shame which children of incarcerated parents experience is from the reaction of people around them. Thus I nodded in quiet acknowledgement of her feelings and continued with the game.

In retrospect the little girl may be quite truthful in expressing her feelings about her father. The fact that she is more sad about his triple incarceration than about his death is possible. There may be very limited bonding because of his constant absence while the stigma of his incarceration may consistently weigh on her. She could have been speaking from her heart.

At the end of the session as she was leaving I felt a sudden urge to call her name. She turned back to look at me and I instinctively uttered "Love You". She ran back and wrapped her hands round my waist while I spontaneously held her close stroking her hair.

We were speaking from our hearts.

One small act

Recently I was shown an act of unusual kindness. I was looking for a seat in a very crowded hawker centre with my hands full carrying a tray of rice and soup when I spotted one with a lot of clutter on the table. There was a tray of bowls and plates filled with left over food. The table was also stained with sauces and littered with remnants of food and tissue paper. I thought I would carefully use my tray to edge the dirty tray to one side before removing it. A middle aged man sitting diagonally opposite had apparently finished his food and sipping his coffee. As he saw me approaching the empty seat he helped me removed the dirty tray to his side of the table which was quite helpful of him. However to my utter surprise he not only helped me cleared the remaining pieces of cutlery but even picked up the dirty tissues and used one of them to clean up the sauces and bits of food. I was totally caught off guard because I wouldn't have touched the tissues myself. I would have probably just used my tray to gingerly push the scattered tissues aside. I flushed and thanked him profusely. He just  acknowledged briefly and continued with his coffee. This guy's matter of fact behaviour elicits 2 descriptions. One is the Nike's slogan "Just do it", the second is what my Buddhist teacher often describes as a mind undisturbed by conditions.

A passage in the Dharma of Mind Transmission jots my mind:
"One should emulate the great earth.....Adorned with jewelry and rare fragrances, the earth does not give rise to greed. Bearing excrement and  foul smells, the earth does not exhibit hatred or disgust. "

To achieve the unconditioned mind (a peaceful mind) is to me a big challenge, never mind big events, even minor conditions like the air cond being either too hot or too cold in the trains can ruffle me. This man's behaviour and demeanor will now surface as a reminder when my mind is afflicted.

The litmus test- our love for the earth

If your children or their spouse are not flying back for Chinese New Year, they may have a valid reason or excuse, to save the earth. It is estimated that a person on a round trip flight from New York to Paris pumps about 2.2 tonnes of carbon dioxide into the atmosphere. As a comparison a person in a developed country generates an annual carbon footprint of about 7 tonnes a year through electricity usage, ground transportation and waste disposal. Just by travelling 3 times a year, a person would have committed a carbon sin twice the norm. This is really sad to hear for any one who loves to travel and for retirees who look to travel to create some zing in their life. Our love to experience new places will now be underlined with a sense of guilt.

Baby boomers are already slapped with accusations for ruining the earth, first with our insatiable desire to own material things proliferating consumerism and ballooning into excesses. The 'out with the old'  mentality created waste and throwaways polluting the earth and depleting the world's resources. When tired of possessing things we moved onto gaining new experiences, hence the boom in air travel. This is made easier with competing offers from airlines.

If air travel continues to grow and the effects of climate change and global warming become prevalently disastrous a day will come when airlines will be struck with an emission tax. This will translate into higher cost for air travel which will rein in the damage to the environment.

For many of us, the litmus test for our love of the earth is to restrict holiday air travel . It's indeed a very hard call, failing which a sense of guilt will linger somewhere at the back of our minds even when taking in the beauty of a landscape overseas.

The door that remains opened

When one door closes another opens. Many people have used this phrase in a philosophical way when reflecting on events which reshaped their lives. For me a small outcome reminds me of this quote.

So I together with many die-hards have tried our best to hang onto KK Women Hospital's bone building exercise classes designed for people suffering from or at the fringe of osteoporosis.  However due to the overwhelming demand and lack of hospital resources it not only was getting difficult to get a slot but the physiotherapist are encouraging people to join other exercise programs conducted in community clubs all over the city. Still participants out of preference for the familiar refuse to budge. The hospital then introduced an assessment every half year to gauge one's readiness to go for exercise classes outside. Each assessment is $44 after subsidy and each bone building exercise class is about $26. I had one such assessment this week and they gave me a 'graduation' certificate. So like all things impermanent, one door closes.

Forced to explore the lists of other programs in a print out which KK gave me, I visited WINGs at Bishan. I was ushered into a class that happened to be starting while I was there to made enquiries. Oh my was I impressed. The trainer was very detailed and made an effort to correct the posture of each participant. The class only costs $10 per session! This small experience makes me wonder why I was so reluctant to open another door when one is closing on me.

On the flip side I wonder why no one ever said "when no other doors open, this door does not close". After my retirement from finance, I pursued qualifications in counselling and worked a few years as a part time school counsellor. Now retired I aspire for volunteering opportunities that see me grow in a professional way. At one period of time I signed on with 3 organisations and was quite overwhelmed. I then contemplated dropping the one which offered least professional growth, a children's home. At this home I did not have to submit case notes, was left pretty much to do as I deem right and with no review required with the social workers whose turnover is high. I had thought of quitting this place but could not somehow got to do so because the bonding with the children there has been so strong. Fast forward, circumstances in the other 2 organisations have changed such that I have to quit one whilst my engagement with the last has dwindled substantially. In other words my aspiration to grow professionally has been minimal.

However the engagement which I now find much satisfaction is with the children's home, the door which I couldn't close. My sandplay therapy has gradually morphed into a mix of general play, mentoring, mothering and grand-mothering. I don't pride myself that the children fought over their turn but I take comfort in knowing that they feel worthy of being loved.

The door that does not close remains open in ways unknown.

A disappointment to women

Read the review of the new broadway musical Pygmalion, a new version from its first, produced way back in 1914. Most people know Pygmalion as My Fair Lady, the film adaptation starring Audrey Hepburn. The writer of the review quipped that the lady sitting next to her at the musical was puzzled about the ending which deviated from the film and previous broadways. In this new version Eliza Dolittle walked away from the eccentric professor Harry Higgins. The reviewer then explained that in the original script playwright Bernard Shaw had a similar storyline but expecting that the audience wanted romance and a happy ending, all the producers, directors and actors changed the script much to Shaw's dismay. Shaw later made known his disapproval. He had intended to bring out the prevalence of class consciousness where people are judged by the accent and manner of speech and dressing. Instead of marrying up to raise her social standing, Shaw intended that Eliza retained her pride, turning away from the social snide.

Now a century later things have come a full circle and Shaw would have been pleased . Ironically however it happens in an environment of increasing inequality around the world.

Shamefully I must admit I would be disappointed with a walk away ending. Although the eccentric professor treated ladies condescendingly, his underlying kindness and love would suffice. That in itself marks the difference between women of my generation and that of the next. We have been brought up to hold the interest of the men in the family before ours. We observe this in our mothers who only expected to be loved and well provided for in return. Of course with higher education our attitude has changed to the need to be independent financially and otherwise. The respect for a masculine hierarchical structure however is deeply ingrained especially in an oriental culture. We were trained in patriarchy. 

Perhaps the cushy feeling of being protected (never mind the subordination) makes me still desire for Eliza Dolittle to marry the fuzzy Henry Higgins instead of her braving the streets of London for a living. It is hard to  change brainwashed ideas of 'our place' in the world, a disappointment to women you may say.