Life is short, So live it as it is

I am not an engineer and I am not sure how bridges are built these days. When I saw the Firth of Forth bridges in Edinburgh recently, I thought they are simply amazing. One bridge is for vehicles and the other is for trains.

I remember seeing how a bridge was constructed in my hometown many years ago and there was great excitement because it would link Batu Pahat to Muar, its neighbouring town. My father used to take me there just to watch the progress and one thing that remained in my memory was that the engineers built the bridge from both sides of the river banks, and finally the bridge ‘met’ in the middle.

The same holds true for the Sydney Harbour bridge. Work began in 1925 at Dawes Point in the south and McMahon’s Point to the north, and the construction work moved steadily inwards until it finally met in the middle five years later.

This got me thinking about friendships and relationships.

Over the course of time we make or lose friends and relations because of many factors such as distance and change. Distance can be geographical where friends move apart or psychological where they grow at a different pace mentally and socially over time and find that they do not have much in common anymore. 

Change can come in the form of a change in ideology or beliefs which separate even the best of friends or relations. Change can happen in family structures through birth, death, remarriage or adoption.

While reconciliation is the best when there are rifts, like the building of bridges it takes both parties to work hard at it. It takes a saint to continue holding out the olive branch  when it is  one-way but it takes a wise person to know when you have tried your best and others are still very cold towards you, then it is time to let go.

I like the quote by Socrates that goes, ‘The secret of change is to focus all of your energy, not on fighting the old, but on building the new.’

There are people who hurt us through mean words, body language or actions consciously or unconsciously. These are the ‘old’ things that tear two people who love each other apart or create fodder for misunderstandings and disagreements.

But there are people who love us too, consciously or unconsciously. They encourage us with their words, their actions and their presence. They encourage us when they think about us or when they include us in their daily happenings. These are the ‘new’ things that build rather than destroy.

When the MH 370 went missing, good friends in Ireland, gave me all their support and never ceased to be concerned. They even followed the news closely and informed me of the latest developments just in case I missed out on any. They showed they cared by enquiring about it or sharing their heartfelt condolences with me. It was my country’s grief which was also my personal grief.

When we had a Malaysian cultural night in the University of Limerick last year, so many of my friends and relatives went. It certainly was not easy to go out in the cold for a night event,  totally alien to them and well out of the way for some. But they went and by that action, I could feel the love.

Then recently, I was really touched when my stepson’s fiancee told me she would show me some pictures of the wedding gowns that she has seen. I see that as a conscious act of sharing. I feel that as a conscious move of love and inclusion. I recognise that as a conscious step of respect which is so important to Asians especially.  She could have chosen not to do so, but she did. It is like my own daughter getting married and sharing her plans with her mother. To me, that speaks volumes.

My basis of ‘living life as it is’ has been my mantra. I cannot expect everyone to love me or to accept me, warts and all. I cannot solve their problems, their grievances, their envy or their hang-ups but I can concentrate on what is good and what I want my life with my husband and children to be. I can choose to absorb their negativity and  poison my soul or I can refuse to let that influence or overpower the inner joy and contentment that I have with myself, my husband and my family.

To me, life is very short and to live life is my gain.

Source: http://www.nst.com.my/opinion/columnist/life-is-short-so-live-it-as-it-is-1.609107?cache=03d163d03edding-pred-1.1176%2F%3Fpfpentwa%3Fkey%3Dkuala+lumpur%3Fpage%3D0%3Fpage%3D0%3Fpage%3D0

Seek Happiness within yourself and not with another

   I ENJOY reunions whether it is to celebrate a festival or a significant occasion. However, there are those statements or questions that will always crop up during such gatherings, and honestly, I cringe when I hear them.  A given is, "You have put on weight", or, "you have not put on weight". Sometimes you can receive both remarks at the  same dinner party.

Then there are questions like, "You have been married for some time now, when will we hear the patter of little feet?" But I guess the one that gets the Oscar is "Do you have a boyfriend/girlfriend yet?"

When I was younger, I found the Oscar-winning question most repulsive because I felt it was not anyone's business to know whether I had a boyfriend or not.

To rub salt into the wound, someone would make remarks like, "You'd better not be too choosy or you'll be left on the shelf", or "you will not remain in the Red Spot (section for sought-after books at the library) for too long and will be moved to the open shelf if you don't get a special someone soon. Don't set your standards so high!"

What irked me was that these people who wished others to be married were not in happy marriages themselves. Then there was this stark reality that it was mainly the womenfolk who would ask such questions. Whatever happened to gender solidarity?

I thought that generation had passed, but I am wrong. These questions are still making their rounds! I wonder why people who were bothered by such questions once are now asking those questions themselves? Is it because of the images that surround us that limit our perception? 

Could it be the Prince Charming fairytale that we have been fed? That it is impossible to be happy unless we get a man or a woman? Or perhaps, these people are just awkward at making conversation and use such questions as fillers? I would rather they be silent than make ill-advised statements.

It is not surprising then that there are rent-a-boyfriend or boyfriend-for-hire websites. According to AsiaOneNews, some Singaporeans, instead of bracing themselves for interrogation during gatherings over their singlehood, are "renting" partners to pose as their intended. How sad.

I read a letter written by 7-year-old Charlotte Benjamin to the Lego company complaining of the lack of options for Lego girls. She wrote, "All the girls did was sit at home, go to the beach, and shop, and they had no jobs but the boys went on adventures, worked, saved people, and had jobs, even swam with sharks."

For as long as girls are sold this package, she is expected to go after the dream of getting a man.

I wish people will realise that it does not take another person to complete someone. We can be complete in ourselves if we want. Happiness and success lie in the individual. A single person can be successful and happy, and so, too, a married person. The reverse is also true that a single or married person can be unsuccessful and unhappy.

I tell my children all the time that we owe it to ourselves to pursue our own happiness and we do not need to rely on another to fulfil that role. I encourage them to tap into their inner resources while they can because satisfaction comes from deep within, not from what others can do for you. It is not a sin to be married and it is not a sin to be single. In whatever state we are, what is most important is to be content.

Amber Kelleher-Andrews, an American radio host and relationship matchmaker, says: "Stay single until someone actually complements your life in a way that it makes it better to not be single. If not, it is not worth it."

Source:  Seek happiness within yourself, not with another - Columnist - New Straits http://www.nst.com.my/opinion/columnist/seek-happiness-within-yourself-not-with-another-1.599846?cache=03%2F7.198169%3Fpage%3D0%3Fkey%3DMalaysia%3Fpage%3D0%2F7.266429%2F7.266429#ixzz3257lmzDq

The Gift of Motherhood

At Angkor Wat, Siemreap, Cambodia

The early images I had of dollhouses were those in story books. Usually dollhouses were placed in nurseries and children had loads of fun playing with their tea sets and dolls. To any child, seeing such pictures is like an unattainable dream, the sort that fairy tales are made of. Until the child becomes an adult and can indulge in the spoils of her labour.

I first met Sarita about 3 years ago and when I saw her dollhouses, I was bowled over. The best part was she built them, from the basement to the roof. Everything was so meticulously done and love was written all over her creations.

Then one day, on the way home from Dublin, Michael pulled over at  Mitchelstown and there was this lovely shop that sold beautiful dollhouses. So I had to realise the dream of my childhood and bought a dollhouse for myself.

 It is a beautiful greenish coloured double storey house with an attic. Like any house, it had to be furnished, so I ordered miniature furniture from the Dollhouse Emporium and Maple Street in London. I then wallpapered the rooms accordingly: sitting room, bedrooms, kitchen, study and music room. Sarita also kindly helped me to wire up the whole dollhouse.

As I made the quilt, mattress and pillows for the tiny beds, I could remember vividly the tiny dresses I made for my children’s dolls. Then I progressed to making clothes for my children – beautiful frocks embellished with smocking and embroidered roses for Sonya and Audrey and pyjamas and bow ties for Samuel. And now that the children have grown up, I wonder where all the time went and how they could have fitted into those tiny clothes once.

We wonder what we have imbued in our children. Have we given them life skills? Have we showed them love? Have we disciplined them? Have we given them not only the  knowledge of God but the experience of knowing God?

One of my friends whose son has just started college in another town said, ‘You never realise the seriousness of what you do with your children until a new season of a big change dawns.... which tells me of what and how I have invested into the life of my son..’

Take music for example.

Some studies indicate that foetuses can hear and react to sound by moving. Other studies say music  may enhance children's intelligence and spatial reasoning skills. So, I remember I took up piano lessons just so that my babies could listen to music regularly while still in the womb. Whether it is coincidental or not, all my three children have perfect pitch and love music.

Then I read somewhere that children can read at an early age. So I taught them all how to read at 18 months so by the time they were four, they were familiar faces at the public library – a place where they could just sit for hours to enjoy a good book.

Whatever we would like to instill in our children, be it a love for music or for reading, the key words are enjoyment, consistency and commitment. I remember the hours that I spent reading to the children and sitting with them in a variety of music classes. I remember the number of music teachers that came in and out of our house – the short-lived strict teachers, the ill-tempered teachers and the encouraging teachers.

We all want our children to make us proud. Teaching them manners, respect, ethics and a good attitude in life is what will set them apart. Disciplining them when they are wrong and teaching them the realities of life will help them know that the world does not owe them a living. Making them capable and confident will prevent them from relying on others for handouts. We do the child a huge favour when he is made to realise that he is not the centre of the universe and not everything is about him.

While Ireland celebrates Mother’s day in March, May 11 is Mother’s Day in Malaysia.

Audrey wrote on my timeline ‘Thank you for being such a great mum who brought me up to love the Lord and to reach for my goals. Thank you for all the love and care you’ve shown me throughout the years. Thank you for everything you’ve done. I love you, mum.’

And she gave me a dinosaur onesie. (one-piece jumpsuit) Now what child gives a mum with grown up children that? She must know her mum very well. So I wore it complete with a ridge on its back and a tail and when I worked in the garden, my dog went completely mad, wondering what his mistress has morphed into.

Back to the dollhouse. When the switch is on, voila, the whole house lights up with the little people in it and it looks so beautiful, just like a home with the people you love in it.

                                             I am thankful that God has made me a mother.

                                                               Happy Mother’s Day

Source: http://www.nst.com.my/opinion/columnist/the-gift-of-motherhood-1.586486

Better safe than sorry

The latest spate of stormy weather left my garden in a mess. The birdhouse was blown down, the metal arch crumbled and the decorative butterflies lost their wings. If only I had anticipated the force of destruction, I would have done something to prevent it. But coming from the calm and constant Malaysian weather, how could I have known? If only.

I am generally a person who weighs my options and risks, who sets aside for a rainy day and who is basically prepared for things that may happen or may not even happen. So I have a number of plans. If plan A does not work, I move on to plan B.

Why even the scout/guide motto is : BE PREPARED which means being always in a state of readiness in mind and body. Be Prepared in Mind is to discipline oneself to think  beforehand any accident or situation that might occur, so that you know the right thing to do at the right moment, and are willing to do it. Be Prepared in Body is to make yourself strong and active and able to do the right thing at the right moment, and do it.

I have never been in a uniformed group but somehow such values have been ingrained in me since young by those that I looked up to. And because that forms the basis of my being, I find decision making natural and efficiency and time management part of the package deal as well. I have little tolerance for tardiness and procrastination.

We cannot be prepared unless we know how to prepare. This takes us to the why, what, where, how and when. A native of the land will usually know the fine details about how to deal with an event for example. But it is a different ball game for a non-native.

We cannot be prepared unless we have knowledge. If I were involved in a car accident in Malaysia, I would know exactly what to do and who to contact. But I will feel very inadequate in another country should an accident happen unless I have the specific knowledge of what to do.

Knowledge comes from many forms and one very basic form is by asking. I remember attending a school report day when the teacher unhappily remarked that my daughter ‘asked a lot of questions’ in class. To that statement, I replied that ‘that was how I brought up my children – to ask questions so they can get answers’.

We cannot be prepared unless we embrace different degrees of likelihood: will happen, may happen, may never happen. If it happens, I will know how to deal with it, and if it does not, well and good. Who is man in his puny mind to predict whether the impossible may happen?

We cannot be prepared if we are told ‘Don’t worry, I’ll take care of it.’ This is fine for those who are quite happy to wash their hands of a problem. To  me, it is great if someone offers to take care of a situation, but I would also like to know how that situation will be taken care of. Imagine having a godfather who says he will take care of a problem, and the next thing you know are headlines in a local paper that some heads have rolled. The logical mind seeks answers, not ambiguity.

I have stood in front of a lecture room for the most part of my life. I had questions directed at me – those that I could answer and those that I could not. For the questions that I had answers, I was too happy to share them. For those that I could not answer, I searched for the answers or for someone else who would know the answers. At home, it was the same modus operandi. Children, whether toddlers or teens or adults, ask questions all the time, if they are encouraged to do so. They can be very general or specific; real or hypothetical; impossible or totally out of this world and they can also be personal or totally irrelevant.

Questions are usually triggered by something nagging in the mind. They can come anytime – when you are relaxed and happy or when you are tired and grouchy.

To all these questions, I see it as a privilege to share whatever I know. I see questions as coming from a genuine search for something deeper. Questions could stem from a pure thirst for information, an understanding of emotions and a clarification of doubt.

Wherever they come from and whatever time they are thrown at me, I feel happy that I can be part of building the bridge of knowledge. 

That to me is communication.

Source: http://www.nst.com.my/opinion/columnist/better-safe-than-sorry-1.573138

Goodwill Hunting

We were walking along Arlington Street in Boston   recently when I heard someone shouting at me from a Pajero which had stopped at the traffic lights. I turned my head and saw a lady waving at me excitedly. She shouted ‘ We have the same handbag!’ and simultaneously lifted up her handbag and shook it vigorously to show me that what she said was absolutely true.

I laughed as I saw that I was also carrying the handbag with bird prints all over it. Then to further accentuate the fun mood, I unbuttoned my coat to reveal a matching bird print frock beneath it. I bought my dress and bag from Dublin and I wondered whether she got the same from downtown Boston. Well, that definitely caused an adrenalin rush.

Then we made our way towards Beacon Street where the famed ‘Cheers’ pub (of the American sitcom television series that ran for 11 seasons from 1982 to 1993) stood. I saw two tourists trying to make sense of the vicinity by pouring over a small black and white map of Boston. In my pocket was a big coloured map of Boston which I took from the concierge. I related what I saw to Michael and I was caught in a to-do or not-to-do situation as we walked past the couple. Michael gave me the affirmation and I ran back to the couple and gave them my big and coloured map and their broad smiles said it all.

What is it about random acts of kindness that make our day?

These may be very small stuff but yet again they leave a fuzzy feeling behind, after all we are tripartite beings – body, soul and spirit.

What touches our souls lifts up the spirit. That little encouragement, that gentle pat on the head goes a long way. We talk of chocolates being soul food and shopping as soul therapy. We can see what we look like in the mirror and we can try to improve what we are not happy with. But it is hard to see our emotions in the mirror and even if we do, we are seldom taught how to recognise our emotions and how to deal with them.

So what am I trying to say?

We often forget that although we look strong on the outside, we are fragile inside. Being constantly battered by words, accusations, injustices and name-calling leave us frail. Being told what to say and what not to say far too often enough leave us wondering if we can say anything to anyone at all.  Being misunderstood because of our perceptions or of our choice of words make us wish we had shared none of our opinions at all. We may be made of rock but constant chiselling will chip off many bits of us over time.

So why can’t we have acts of kindness instead of destruction?

To be kind is to be in the shoes of the other person, to empathise and to walk with her and hold her hand and show that you care. To be kind  is not to bring up the past over and over again. To be kind is to encourage but to correct at the same time when you can see another walking down the path that you would not like to go yourself. To be kind is to understand that not everything is personal and not everything is about you.

To be kind is also to take stock of our own emotional health. We cannot blame another person for what we are or are not. To quote Ann Bradford, ‘Tell the negative committee that meets inside your head to shut up and sit down.’ We owe it to ourselves to develop confidence, self esteem and self respect. When we have been told to do this and that for too long, we need to step aside and say to ourselves, ‘Do we want to fall into someone else’s mould or can we be ourselves?’

It is never easy to see the wood for the trees when we are in the thick of it. No one can identify with the intensity of emotions that we go through, and the choice is ours alone to decide what we want to do with our lives.

It is the stuff that we are made of that anchors us. I have often wondered how huge trees can be toppled in a storm and yet when I see how shallow the roots are, it all makes sense.

When our emotional health is in order, we have every reason to live.

                                                    All that is gold does not glitter     

                                                    Not all those who wander are lost

                                                    The old that is strong does not wither

                                                   Deep roots are not reached by the frost –

                                                                                                    J.R.R. Tolkein             

Source: http://www.nst.com.my/opinion/columnist/goodwill-hunting-1.551698?cache=03%2F7.203490%3Fpage%3D0%2F7.306867%2F7.321287%2F7.325431%2F7.325431%2F7.330034%2F7.330034%2F7.330034%2F7.330034%2F7.682829%2F7.124478%2F7.699950                           

Now What was that Again?

There is this character called Mr Twiddle in Enid Blyton’s books. He is a kind-hearted soul but very forgetful and his wife is driven to distraction by his actions. He is  a bit like a grand-dad in early dementia.

I used to think that it is impossible for Mr Twiddle to constantly fall over the cat or put the stick of butter into the oven instead of into the refrigerator, until I found myself putting the open carton of fresh milk into the larder and the car keys in the shed. I am not denying that memory lapses come with age, but then again, how is it possible that my friends in their 70s and 80s can remember things with such precision when I find it hard to remember what I ate for supper even?

It is recorded that medieval Irish literature preserved truly ancient traditions in a form virtually unchanged through centuries of oral tradition back to the ancient Celts of Europe. Oral tradition and oral lore is cultural material and tradition transmitted verbally down the generations. These stories are transmitted in speech or song and may take the form, for example, of folktales, sayings, ballads, or chants. Thus even without a writing system, it is possible for a society to transmit oral history, oral literature, oral law and other types of knowledge across generations. Even the oral tradition of passing on tunes is ongoing in Irish Traditional Music.

I have certainly never been engaged in any form of serious oral tradition. At most. it was a nursery rhyme here and there and a proverb or two.

I remember studying about short term and long term memory power in a psychology class. Either I was too distracted by the lecturer’s good looks or I merely retained the facts for the purpose of doing well in the paper, I cannot remember much of it today. But one I think that still lingers on my mind is creating a to-do list to sharpen memory skills.

So I started a to-do list. This to-do list was painstakingly entered into my filofax (that was before smart phones made an appearance). Alternatively, I would stick post-its on the fridge or soft board. Once I had completed the things on my to-do list, I would cross them out, sort of a first- in- first- out system. It worked perfectly for me and I did not have to carry too many things in my head.

Another thing that could have caused my memory power to go into lazy mode is my personal mantra of ‘living for today’. Even if I had won the most coveted award for being the greatest woman ever lived, I would have revelled in the euphoria of that experience for just a while and then moved on because there is so much to life than resting on yesterday’s laurels. This goes for bad experiences as well. Someone once said the best way to punish your enemies is to forgive them because life is too short to hate and so we march on into the future, consciously not letting bad experiences gnaw us from within.

Some people that I have met can remember every little milestone their children had achieved. I am totally hopeless in that area and that is why I find photo albums and scrapbooks most helpful. Just the other day I met a man who said he cut a tree in our backyard twenty years ago. Now if he had been cutting trees for the most part of his life, how could he have remembered which tree he had cut in which year?

There are many people who love to retell their stories. I find that there are more talkers than listeners everywhere I go. Almost everyone seems to want to talk about himself and expect others to listen. I have heard some of them tell the same story over and over again, to the same group of people or to different groups of people. So maybe this is the secret to increasing memory power – repetition.

Just when I thought that maybe I was losing ‘it’, wikipedia threw some light into the occasional lapses in memory which do not necessary mean signs of serious mental deterioration or the onset of dementia. This includes: forgetting where you left things you use regularly, such as glasses or keys; forgetting names of acquaintances or blocking one memory with a similar one, such as calling a daughter by another daughter’s  name; occasionally forgetting an appointment; having trouble remembering what you have just read, or the details of a conversation; walking into a room and forgetting why you entered; becoming easily distracted and not quite being able to retrieve information you have “on the tip of your tongue.”

Games that activate the brain should help. So maybe it is time to reach for the crossword puzzle or Sudoku.

Now who is Mr Twiddle that started me on the writing of this article?

Source: http://www.nst.com.my/opinion/columnist/now-what-was-that-again-1.539177

Looking For the Blueprint

THE movie Philomena won the BAFTA award for best adapted screenplay. The story of a son looking for his biological mother and the biological mother looking for her son would tug any heartstrings, more so when the mother and son in question are Irish.

Stories abound where years ago, unwed Irish mothers were put away in workhouses or convents because they were "fallen women" and their children were given up for adoption or sold.

Philomena was pregnant and unmarried at 18, so she was kept out of sight at Sean Ross Abbey in Roscrea, county Tipperary, behind grey stone walls.

In recent years however, adoptions in Ireland have become increasingly rare. Prospective parents now look abroad to adopt a child in a process called inter-country adoption.

At some point or another in our lives, we have wondered if we were adopted, especially when we do not look like our siblings.

Doubts creep in when we think and feel that our parents favour our brother or sister over us.

Stories that our parents tell us when we ask them about conception do not help either: the stork drops babies into chimneys or babies are found in dustbins and cabbage patches.

In the process of instilling fear into us or making us toe the line, parents even threaten to "give us away" if we misbehave.

I am not adopted and neither have I adopted a child. I cannot imagine what a parent goes through in the process of giving up a child to someone else.

However, my earliest memory of such a scenario was when I was about 10. I was living above a furniture shop then and usually I would exchange pleasantries with the owner of the shop when I got home from school, before making my way up the stairs, school bag and all.

On that particular day, he looked very downcast and, even after I had greeted him, he made no response.

So I asked my mother what had happened to him and she told me that he had just "given away" his sixth daughter because business was poor and they could not afford to feed another mouth.

In some cultures, it is required by law to state that a child is adopted. However, there are cases where the names of the adoptive parents are recorded as the biological parents of the child.

I have friends who have told their adopted children that they were adopted right from the start.

I also have friends who have never told their children they were adopted. '

Among the famous who were adopted were Marilyn Monroe, John Lennon, Nelson Mandela and Babe Ruth.

Steve Jobs was adopted and even though he was subsequently re-united with his biological parents, he continually affirmed that his adoptive parents were his parents 1,000 per cent.

Every now and again, we read in the papers of people searching for their biological parents or parents searching for the babies that they had given up for adoption many years ago.

Sometimes, a chance meeting of siblings separated by birth but yet look very much alike, has paved the way for a reunification.

The book Adoption Healing, a path to recovery by psychotherapist Joe Soll, a licensed clinical social worker, lists down the myths and facts about adoption.

According to his findings, most people surrender a child to adoption because they lack the resources to do otherwise.

Bonding begins before birth and the child suffers the pain of separation from her mother.

The discovery of her adoption status is confirmation of what is innately felt and known by the child. Women who lose babies to adoption never forget and their loss is unresolvable.

There are reports of happy endings where families are re-united and aching chasms filled.

Yet, I have heard of those who have met their biological parents but chose not to have further contact with them. I have also read of biological mothers who had kept it a secret all their lives and felt that the resurfacing of a child given up for adoption would disrupt their present status.

There is just no generic rule that reunification spells happiness.

Source: Looking for the blueprint - Columnist - New Straits Times http://www.nst.com.my/opinion/columnist/looking-for-the-blueprint-1.503229#ixzz2w54r9wM6