NOTHING TO FEAR AT ALL

I NEVER knew I could feel so at peace sitting in a gryke, with my face to the wind and my back to a dolmen. A gryke is a crevice in a limestone floor and a dolmen is a type of single-chamber megalithic tomb, usually consisting of three or more upright stones supporting a large flat horizontal capstone (table). Most date from the early Neolithic period (4000 to 3000 BCE).
This was not my first time visiting the Burren, an area of limestone rock covering awesome mountains and gentle valleys with meandering streams. Only this time around, I could hear the echoes of silence as it was a bank holiday and there were hardly any tourists.

I found myself humbled by the visual delights of this unspoilt corner of Ireland and intrigued by the ancient mysteries. I wondered about the civilisations that lived there aeons ago. I could imagine men of yore hunting wolves and bears and could hear the sounds and feel the atmosphere of past civilisations.

I wondered about their daily lives, and their thoughts, feelings, joys and fears. From what I had read, they were afraid of the unknown, afraid of the Greater Being, afraid of living and afraid of dying. Most of them hardly lived beyond 40 because of the harsh landscape.
Like most people, I was brought up on a diet of ghosts, spirits and superstitions which were fodder to a child's fertile mind. Horror movies and playing hide and seek in dark places exacerbated the fear. But at the Burren I was amazed that I could be so close to the Poulnabrone Dolmen which once housed the bones of a newborn baby, six juveniles and 16 to 22 adults, and not feel afraid. Poulnabrone literally means "the hole of the sorrows".

Most people are afraid of something or the other. We are afraid of what others will think of us or what we do. We are afraid of losing friends if we dare to be different and losing face, especially if someone has tarred our reputation.

If we think about the things we have done, we will realise that there will always be two opinions for all our actions. The same act will be condemned by some, while others will applaud.

We are afraid of change. If you watch children at play, you can see them switching roles and taking on challenges. As we grow older we become more comfortable with certain surroundings. We sit on the same bench, drink from the same cup and we hobble along instead of walking with a sprint.

We have become great friends with familiarity and predictability has become our security blanket. It takes the strength of many horses combined to drag us out of the arena we call routine.

We are afraid of failure. Sometimes, we think that something will not work out even before it has begun. The haunting reality of failure is very real and no respecter of men. Children who have been put down by significant adults and told that they will not measure up to anything, struggle with this.

The perfectionist who craves for an orderly world struggles with this. The achiever who is not pacified by his last success also struggles with this.

We are afraid of losing the people that we love. We are afraid that if we set boundaries and standards for our teenage children, they will leave home, never to return. We are afraid if our children are not filial, they will abandon us when we are old. We are afraid that the person whom we love will leave us to be alone again.

Fear can also be the result of worrying. We worry when we do not know what will happen next. Franklin D. Roosevelt said in his first inaugural address that "there is nothing to fear but fear itself". This famous quote referred to the fact that uninformed fears and irrational panic can turn a manageable situation into a dangerous crisis.

If we analyse the times when we were worried or fearful, we can safely say that some of the most dreaded things never really came to past.

MAKING CHOICES

Listening to Elton John’s Goodbye, yellow brick road on the radio brings back pleasant memories. It was the song to sing during the 70s when my sister and I cycled to school, when I met up with my classmates and when I needed a break from doing homework. We were living in a shop house at that time and there were two shops selling music cassettes and records in the vicinity so the song blared through the loudspeakers in its heyday. I knew the words by heart but I now wonder whether I really understood what they meant. At that time, it sufficed that the tune was catchy enough.

The yellow brick road appears in the novel The Wonderful Wizard of Oz by L. Frank Baum. It is the road for Dorothy to follow if she wishes to reach the Emerald City which is built of green glass, emeralds and other jewels. The Emerald City symbolises a fraudulent world and does not have true value.

At some point or other we work towards reaching this Emerald City.

For some, purchasing only branded items would signify that they have reached the Emerald City.

Whether it was a decade ago or now, branded goods still play a very big role when we want to be associated with the uptown lifestyle. Most of us love beautiful and expensive things. This is absolutely alright until we become obsessed with wearing designer labels and nothing else and judge others who are not like us. We were visiting the Spanish Steps in Rome when my son told me his boss had asked him to buy a Prada bag. So we went to the most famous fashion streets in Rome: Via Condotti, Via Borgognona and Via Frattina. In our sensible clothes and shoes, we did not exactly look like potential haute couture customers, so needless to say no stylishly coiffured sales assistant in black stilettos rushed over to serve us.

For others, accumulating accolades and awards would mean that success is in their hands.

There is nothing wrong with advancing oneself or getting into prestigious universities but it is very annoying to have to put up with people who constantly boast about their own accomplishments or their children’s accomplishments. These people are also extremely competitive and they love to talk about themselves, their worlds and their views. My driving instructor once told me that one learner driver failed six times on the road because he would not follow instructions. That particular learner driver had a doctorate from a renowned university and thought he knew the rules of the road better than the driving instructor. A well qualified person who is modest and unassuming is a breath of fresh air and a real gem.

Then , there are some who want to reach the Emerald City by riding on others. These are the shallow sycophants and the opportunists who would work to selfishly advance their own careers without putting in their fair share of work. I remember someone asking me to edit a book. What I later found out was that she would ‘dictate’ some ideas to me but I was to write out the whole book. Her name would then be published as the writer and I would be the editor. I was aghast that such an idea could have been hatched in the first place.

If there is a physical and temporal emerald city, then there must be dreams and visions and values that are good and rewarding. Hard work, discipline and determination are values to be proud of. One of the students who attended a MUET seminar that I once conducted had just written to me.

“I'm Adzim and I hope that you still remember me...After a series of failures in my attempt to achieve Band 4, I finally scored Band 5 for my MUET (mid-year 2011)...Just want to let you know and I have included my results in the attachment file.”

Walt Disney said, ‘If you do not have dreams, how are you going to make your dream come true!" and "All dreams are possible if we have the courage to pursue them!"

Staying true to who we are will help us take stock and consciously shed off the trappings that we pick up along the way. It is exactly a year since I opted out for early retirement. Someone told me that I would die of boredom and that I would be running back to the office after six months. All I can say is that nothing could match the sheer satisfaction of my first year of living life in all its simplicity, with time to call my own.

As I sit in the car and listen to the rest of Elton John’s song, I am glad I took that decisive step and never looked back.

TRIBUTE TO A FRIEND

A tribute to a friend

Call it a flash of a moment
A moment of wondering
A moment of knowing
Who do you call a friend?

She is the most unlikely of friends
We connected only after a few years of letters
We all have our walls
Walls we choose to keep us safe

And yet when we finally find a common door
Not made by hands
We find in each other
A certain depth, a certain warmth

She has beautiful eyes
The windows to a gracious soul
All wrapped up in an exterior
An exterior forged by experiences

I wonder why I am thinking of her
I wonder why I am missing her so
Maybe we are alike and yet so different
Maybe we are so near and yet so far away

I wish her all the treasures of the earth
I wish her all the beauty of the heavens
I wish her all the kindness of people
That is what you wish upon a friend

GIVE PRAISE WHEN THEY ARE WITH US

I was driving along the motorway and suddenly I saw a big group of cyclists pedaling as fast as their legs could muster the strength. It was an amazing sight, just watching them in their multi-coloured lycra cycling suits, pedaling in unison with the wind behind their backs.

Life is always the first indication of summer. The apple tree is my garden is now laden with apples again and the bulbs I had planted around it when the ground was caked with frost are now flowering aggressively. There are more wild birds pecking at the bird feeders and most of all daylight hours are getting longer.

When we live near the equator we go to bed expecting the sun to rise the next day. When we head for the beach, we expect to see the sun set at almost fixed times. But now, at 10pm, the sun is still brightly shining over Ireland and I will nostalgically say the Malaysian sun has risen again.

This sets me thinking that sadly we sometimes do not seem to realise what we have until it is gone. Only when we lose something, then we are reminded of its value and wished we had appreciated it. We falsely convince ourselves that everything around us will remain constant – firstly, the people around us and secondly our sense of worth.
Human nature is such that we tend to take those who are closest to us for granted until they are no longer there. Only then do we see how big their impact really was. We hear beautiful eulogies being read and wonder why we are stingy with our praises to the living.
My mother in her wisdom told me to appreciate life. To her it is better to tell the person how wonderful she is and to affirm her worth when she is alive than to burn a thousand candles when she is gone. Yet, we oftentimes forget to express love and gratitude to our family members, our good friends and those who are concerned about us. In the heat of an argument, when we let words fly, a good yardstick is to stop in our tracks and say to ourselves ‘will I still say the same thing to defend my stand if I know she’ll be gone tomorrow?’
I have a friend whose son has not spoken to her for years after a misunderstanding. I wonder how he would feel if one day she is gone and he has not made his peace with her or vice versa. Parent-child conflicts are nothing new and there is no prescribed method for reconciliation. Kahlil Gibran, a Lebanese American artist, poet, and writer said it best, "Love knows not its own depth until the hour of separation."
We also sometimes take our sense of worth for granted until it is snatched away.
Our self worth is the spark that keeps us alive. Depression gnaws at self worth and the city with its busy people has no time for forging deep relationships. The price we pay for modernity and the respect for privacy is non-interference into other people’s affairs. As more people keep their problems to themselves, having no outlet to unleash their sorrows, it is no wonder that the annual report of the National Office for Suicide Prevention shows that Ireland has the fifth highest rate of youth suicide in Europe.

I was sitting next to an acquaintance in a church service and after the initial pleasantries, she told me she was on anti-depressant pills. To her, the world has become very unappealing and creativity is at an all time low. We all thrive on creativity which ranges from keeping the house and garden tidy to the finest oil painting. If a person feels no impetus to work or to engage in any activity that used to delight, something starts to die within. In some cases work acts as a catalyst for the creative force to be allowed expression and for the individual once again to start to feel: “I too am somebody.”
Before I left the church I gave her a piece of paper where I had scribbled my name and contact number and the words, ‘Call me if you would like someone to talk to over a cup of tea.’
I wanted her to feel alive again.

ROLE MODELS TO CHERISH

Looking at Ben Bulben, a large rock formation in County Sligo, I was reminded of the Irish poet William Butler Yeats. In fact, County Sligo is also known as Yeats’ country as it is the area where he grew up, to which he returned often and where he is buried.

Among his many poems is ‘Prayer for my daughter’ where we see Yeats in the role of an anxious father brooding over his young daughter's future where he wants his daughter to inherit the traits that would allow her to lead a complete and fulfilling life. I cannot help but agree that in this temporal world there are few things that hold significance. One of them is our legacy to our children: how we can bring them up to be individuals who are at peace with themselves and who inspire others.

I have a little notebook where I pen interesting quotes. The number of inspirational quotes describing fatherhood shows just how important this one man is to his family.

Jim Valvano an American college basketball coach said, ‘My father gave me the greatest gift anyone could give another person, he believed in me.’ Believing that someone is able to achieve his vision is the catalyst towards achieving the drean, When President J. F. Kennedy declared to the world that America would put man on the moon by the end of the decade, space technology was at its infancy. But on July 20, 1969, Neil Armstrong became the first man to walk on the moon and made his famous statement, "That's one small step for man, one giant leap for mankind."

Clarence Budington Kelland who once described himself as "the best second-rate writer in America" said that his father did not tell him how to live. In fact he lived, and let Clarence watch him do it. Basically it is the setting of a good example for the child to follow and this builds up self esteem. It is not by telling but rather by showing the child that he is valued, by spending time, by talking and listening, by praising and by teaching that he grows up to be competent.

Mark Twain in "Old Times on the Mississippi" Atlantic Monthly, 1874 said,
‘When I was a boy of fourteen, my father was so ignorant I could hardly stand to have the old man around. But when I got to be twenty-one, I was astonished at how much he had learned in seven years.’ It is amazing that the image of the father changes through a child’s eyes. A toddler thinks that his father can do anything. A teenager laments that his father is hopelessly old-fashioned. A yuppie thinks that his old man is out-of-date. Interestingly enough, Charles Wadworth, a classical pianist and musical promoter, who gained international renown in 1960 says that by the time a man realises that maybe his father was right, he usually has a son who thinks he is wrong.

Parenting is a partnership and there should be mutual respect between the child's parents as children will mimic their parents' behaviour. Parents should be on the same page about how to discipline and reward the child. Someone once said a father is someone who makes sure you do what your mother says. That I think is a very wise father indeed.

Finally, fatherhood is about both fun and responsibility. The key word is spending time to know the child or he will otherwise help to create an emotional wasteland. Research has shown that children feel estranged from parents who are unable to accurately express their feelings. Childhood is fleeting and lost moments of intimacy cannot be regained. Bertrand Russell, a British philosopher and social critic said that the place of the father in the modern suburban family is a very small one particularly if he plays golf.

Yeats once gave a private reading in the Lady Gregory Augusta’s library in Coole Park. His young daughter was playing at his feet while he was “flourishing” as they say, waving his arms, expounding on the poem. But the child would not leave him alone. Her nose was runny and she kept coming up to him and yanking his coat. He put the book down, reached into his pocket, took out a large handkerchief which he had been waving wildly earlier, went down to the little girl and got her to blow her nose. Then he put it back in his pocket and continued reading. He did not chase her off and instead just stopped everything and took care of it. That was the father in him.

GOOD GUESTS REFLECT GOOD UPBRINGING

TWO notable figures visited Ireland in May -- Queen Elizabeth and United States President Barack Obama.
The queen's visit was mainly perceived as symbol of reconciliation, as the queen paid tribute in the Garden of Remembrance to the Irish who died resisting British rule.

There was also the singing of the British national anthem in Croke Park, the heartland of Irish nationalism and scene of a bloody massacre.

On the other hand, Obama fever swept through Moneygall, a village on the main road to Limerick, with US Secret Service agents moving in as locals painted their houses, builders plastering frantically and repairing the footpaths. Records show Obama's great-great-great-great-grandfather was a shoemaker in Moneygall and his son, Falmouth Kearney, left for New York in 1850.

Two different guests with two different agendas were warmly received by the host country. This reminds me of the pleasure (or displeasure) of having guests in our homes.

Malaysians, by and large, observe this beautiful tradition of welcoming guests to our homes. We would also make it a point to bring a present for our hosts.

It is not uncommon for guests to call in unannounced in my parents' generation especially in the outskirts of town. However, now that many of us work long hours at the office, the trend of guests informing the hosts before arrival is catching on, especially in the cities.

There is usually a lot of preparation before the guest finally arrives. The house is spruced up and food is prepared. Usually the host takes the trouble to plan an itinerary if the guest comes to stay a few days.

Even as we welcome guests into our homes, we must be mindful of being considerate guests ourselves. More often than not, we should be aware of unwritten rules or different cultural practices.

Being a good guest often reflects the way we have been brought up. Parents glow with pride when someone tells them that their child has been a great guest and the hosts would love to have her back in their house again anytime.

I live in a very scenic town and I have had the pleasure of having quite a few guests at many different times of the year.

Indeed, guests come in different packages.

So, what makes a good guest?

A good guest is one who makes arrangements for transportation and do not rely on the host to provide taxi service.

He could also offer to wash up after a meal, cook a meal or take the host out for a meal.

He should also read up about the country he is visiting before he comes and bring enough local currency with him and not depend on his host to pay for almost everything.

Besides that, the guest should also be sensitive to how things are done around the host's house.

The members of the family may watch certain television shows and eat certain foods and the guest should not be imposing or demanding or making comments that things are not done the way he is used to.

I had to put up a no-smoking sign after I discovered that a guest had happily polluted the air and left cigarette butts in the fireplace in the sitting room.

There was another guest who made it quite clear that nothing in my neighbourhood would ever measure up to where she had been.

While there were guests who made me appreciate the normal life I had before they arrived, there were some whom I would miss terribly when they had gone home.

These were the ones who appreciated the fact that we had gone out of the way to make them feel welcome, set aside time for them and tried to make their stay as comfortable as possible.

MY PSALM

To the chief musician on an eight stringed harp and a tin whistle.

THE PSALM OF K.E.L.L.S
( Kingship- Enlightenment-Love-Life-Spirit )

You are my God of many names
Yesterday, today, tomorrow – You are still the same

JEHOVAH ROHI You are my Shepherd
From your warm embrace, I can soar like a bird

JEHOVAH JIREH You are my constant Provider
My blessings overflow, I am content forever

JEHOVAH SHALOM, You are my Peace
My fears and worries, to You I release

JEHOVAH ROPHE, You heal me inside out
Gaping wounds disappear, as I gladly shout

JEHOVAH SHAMMAH, My God’s there for me
Through the seconds, hours and days…faithful is He

JEHOVAH TSIDKENU, righteous is my God
You teach me holiness in deed and in thought

You are my God of many names
Yesterday, today, tomorrow – You are still the same

(For safekeeping at Trinity College……….hopefully)