Detach emotion from your duty, can you do that?

 "Okay, you are an empath, good and bad."

I broke it down for Shaz to understand why I was feeling so so lousy.  Chatting over WhatsApp.

I realised I am such an angry person.  Afraid I will now start to analyse all my action and behaviour through the lens of questioning.  "Am I doing this to disguise my deeply angry and unhappy self?"  "Am I truly at ease?  Am I really having a blissful moment or am I sweeping something dark under the carpet?" 

Conversation: 

me: i just realised i'm such an angry person - watching them living out their old age , bicker..bitter and stuck with each other - and stuck in this life.  makes me feel angry, and guilty

Shaz: 

"Sounds harsh, but you need to detach."

me: i was detaching all this while...OR SO I THOUGHT I WAS. 

Shaz: "Detach your duty from emotion." 

me: I always just provide food, chit-chats.  I don't ask them much.  then I go about my own things. I didnt realise it disturbs me so much until tonight.   Shocking.  I pun tak tau, I was so pissed off... I dunno, is it healthy for me in the long term - to detach emotions from my duty?

Shaz: The pissed part - I don't understand.  Disappointed, I could bridge that emotion.

me: the pissed off part, is at myself.  

Shaz: why?

me: for feeling annoyed and pity.  I break it down, I think it's like this - i think they are stuck with each other - and i feel they are suffering and i feel guilty that i dont bother to do much to improve, or help.  and then i react to incidents, and I try to detach...

try to detach, then feel guilty that I am detaching, and then feel angry that I want to detach in the first place.  Semua tu.  hey, i am glad that i am talking to you to analyse this - coz i am feel very lousy, was feeling very lousy - just now

Shaz: "Okay, you are an empath, good and bad."

me: i know there so many people worse off, and situations much worse than this.  But ya, this is me. 

Shaz: 

"

Okay

(You) <---->(your mum)

(You) <---->(your dad)

Say in a world that you are only responsible of the arrow in between.

Reacting responsibly within that framework the best that you can .

Can you live with yourself with that?

"

me: ..I don't understand this, my head hurts...

Shaz: "The arrow is your interactions, i.e. the words that you use, action , behaviour, help etc. Independent of outcome, you act with your best estimate of positive outcome. Can you live with yourself with that?

me: that's basically detachment, right?  but in more words...

This is my next big big lesson to take on - this season.  Glad I am making a record of this feeling, it sucks bad.  But I will give myself a break now.  

Good night diary.  

How are you?

A good friend asked me "how are you?" over WhatsApp and I wanted to give an honest and thorough answer, so I decided to blog my answer.

How am I, as per today, 8:27am of June 13.

(Many many "I" in this answer, I am aware it's self-absorbed while it is honest.  But to answer 'How Are You' - it is a look into what is happening inside my head, inside me)

I miss having an income.  Why?  Because I was used to spending the way I wished, whenever I wished.  I am aware that I am spoilt.  Not having any income now forces me to be more sensible with cash, it's character building while it is worrying.

I miss Justin.  Yesterday was his birthday.  He would have been 48.  I still sometimes wonder if he were around, whether we'd still be together.  I have a feeling that we would be.

I feel helpless, learning about what is happening in the world now.  Many bad news aren't really news, it's shit that has been around for ages but now more of the bad shit has flogged the world at the same time (is it really?) and that overwhelms me.

I wonder if I am trying enough to do the right thing in these times, about money.  I know what is "right" can be different for different people.  Not all, but so many colleagues of mine in the arts community has created new income platforms for themselves.  Me? Nada.  I find myself using the excuse of 'need to take care of my parents' whenever I try to start a conversation with myself about other means of income.  And then I get myself distracted...

With work.  Work that is work that is non-profit-generating.  If it isn't money-making, can I still call it work?  (Well, a full-time mother's day to day labour does not bring in money but you damn well will call that work, ain't it?)

I am learning and getting slightly better at not complaining about people, and things that happen to me.  Things are things, and it is on me how I set my attitude in dealing with things, and people.

I am not sure if I am taking good care of myself, heath wise.  I have to do better in taking care of my digestion, and increase the intake of fresh fruits, and control the amount of junk food I indulge in.

What else?  How am I?

I think I am actually really ok.  I am learning to live well from hour to hour.  I target to be well in the moment.  Count, and list my blessings whenever I hit a bump on the hour.  My list of blessings is a long one.

I have set up a daily timetable that I am happy with, and feel good when I work well with it.  It has helped me through on days when I am swaying.

I have taken the time to write this long and thorough (I think) answer, I'm 20 minutes behind my morning routine.  But it's worth it.  This is a mental workout for me, and probably a bit of philosophical meditation too.

Thank you for asking me how I'm doing, how about you?  How are YOU?

Sitting with my ugly side

I woke up this morning and discovered layers of myself, facets of myself that I hadn't noticed before. Ego, insecurities and dissatisfaction that I didn't know were there before.

OK, the feelings and the analysis are still raw.  I still need time to sit with these findings and cool down - not to get ahead of myself.

What about all my quiet solitary nods to self that this is a good life and I love so much of what I have, and is grateful?   Were those not real?  I wasn't lying to myself was I?

Deep breathing.   Had to be enforced.
Because the feeling of hurt and pain (where did they come from, I am asking) oozed out of my tear glands and lungs felt as real as a pillar of cement being bumped on my throat and chest.

Recalibration needed.

Start from the ground up.

I've verbalised so much about the unaffectedness of me with the subject of fame, ask me again.

Much to rethink about what my relationship is with ego and insecurities.

Right now, the waves of hurt and pained feeling just lashing at me.  I am just glad I have the space and time to be alone to sit here with them.

The 10-day silent retreat suddenly feels very urgent.

My wisdom - whatever is here now - tells me to take a moment to let this all settle before I jump on anything.

Not that scheduling for the retreat is in anyway detrimental, just as always, a matter of time management.

Guess I've always thought I am the kind of person who walks on the sunny side of the road.  All this traveling down, I have not noticed all the rotting garbage along the side walk where my eyes don't meet.

This is the day - the wake-up-and-smell-the-garbage day.

The head is aching from everything.

At least my heart is still beating and I am hungry for food...time to feed.

This too shall pass.

Letters number one hundred and thirty-one: The days go on

Dearest J,

It's been too long.  Since my last letter here.  More than a year.

I took my parents on a beach holiday last week, with the great help of my sister in hand.  I don't know if I have ever told you, but I grew up at home never knowing what a family holiday was like - we never had any.   It didn't seem like I missed anything - I mean, you don't miss something that you didn't know anything about, right.

It dawned on me that I'd better take mom to the beach while she is still reasonably fit enough to move about.  So I went through the trouble of planning it.  I'm not one who does many things for my family, but I knew I had to do this.

Well, it was worth all the trouble.  In fact, halfway through booking all the logistics for the trip I even manage to start getting excited about the trip for myself.  Mom was really really thrilled with the experiences - she said it many times over that her wish really came true: the beach dream.  Nervous and frightful as she was, she survived it: getting in and out of boats, putting on life jackets, the boat rides, learning how to walk on soft sandy beach (both dad and mom were unstable walking on soft sand, at first), walking to and fro from rooms to meals, getting in and out of buggy rides, etc.   She took it all in, the things she was wishing for: walks on the fine sand next to the sea, playing with sea water, dipping her ankles in the water, posing for photos, sunset sightings...etc.

We actually really hung out, as a family.  For once, we just sat around and chatted, and ate without rushing off anywhere for the next appointment.  4 days 3 nights.

Dad is 76 now, mom is 71.  She told me she was never given that beach holiday since married dad.  I mean, I know them well in the sense that they have not had the chance to 'learn' to 'enjoy life' as how I know.  There are too many things that are too late for them to pick up at their age, with their background.   As limited options I have to 'make them happy', I just had to try to service their wishes.  I am glad we took the trip to Redang.  I booked a really nice resort for us, everyone was happy with the space.  It was sister's first holiday away from her kids and hubby, my first with my family, mom's first beach holiday...dad's first too.  All of our firsts.

I try to cook for them at home as much as I could, showing mom new recipes of simple and delicious dishes like pasta options.  My impatience with them remains, I still can't wait to get back to my own routines of life, and having the pad to myself.  I've learned to control it better, my mind seems to get into this "service-mode".  I want to do the best I can (given my limited patience) to provide my care and services as a daughter to mom and dad.  I cannot yet see how our future will pan out, their wealth conditions and the way they live out in Taiping stress me a bit but I am determined not to let that ruin my days.

I'm 40 now.  I don't know how to describe this but it seems, I feel that I've never really grown up - inside me everyday I have many moments of surrealism....the memories of that really young, insecure, feels ugly, un-clever girl - she lives in me still, everyday I see her - even as I am doing big, clever things like taking care of business, making things happen.  I am 40 but I feel like a 8-year-old who has grown used to getting round to do things she's never thought she would one day could.

Can't put my finger on this feeling - what you call this...

I've recently - just a couple of days ago - got re-aquainted with my old diary, the 1996 one.  I was 19, left Taiping to live in the city with sister for the first time.  The city, the new home, new life - it was also my sister's big new life that year: marriage, first born, a new house, a husband...she was only 24.

There were so many entries that shocked me, for I couldn't remember the things that happened.  I stayed shocked and feeling messed up for two days.  My thoughts when I first read the diary: maybe I am really messed up as a person, and maybe I don't know how I got here but maybe the past had something to do with it.

I feel much better now though.  So many things happened this year.  I managed to cough up my second album, Cinnabar Rouge; managed to produce and stage another concert...it was bigger and grander - I went through hell with all the work (stress, as the leading lady and as the producer).  It was a challenge to find a moment to feel proud with the work/achievements of this team - of Janet Lee.

Really, I cannot complain.  I wanted to do all that: another concert, to dance, to entertain and to work with the people, the music - to give a good show.  I guess I just wanted a shoulder to lean on.  I cannot even imagine how it would be like if you were still around.

Post concert - post album launch depression came.  Things are different this time round, times are harder, ticket sale took a while.  I had 80% attendance.  Album sale is slow now, I work from day to day to figure out what is next step to sell the next album.  I paid off everyone, having savings helped. The low-down isn't in the fact that I dig out savings to pay for things - it is in feeling inadequate to market this piece of work better, the fact that I am not getting as much attention from people as before - it is just my feeling.

I understand, as my work matures and the higher I climb - the higher the expectations and the bigger base I need.  Yet I haven't a bigger base - fan base hasn't grown big enough, I still work alone...

And I am just tired, and lonely.

Strangely though, after I was done making a check list of all the downs and feeling bad about feeling bad - I have a surreal sense of excitement.  I wonder where all these emotions are taking me next.

While I am sorting things out - or waiting it out - or just floating along - I am hooked on Alain de Botton's work.  I got addicted to watching his The School of Life videos and his talks on YouTube every night/day.  His teachings on pessimism calms me.

And back to basic - I am allowing music work to excite me and to ground me once again.  Forget the shits of life for a moment, I shall face the music and let myself get whirled into its magic once again.

I am inherently grateful to be alive.  I think of your kindness.

The pad is quiet again, it's back to just me here.  I love it here.


Love you much,

B

The Never-ending Days of Dying

The days when you don't know where sadness begins and ends,
The air holds still and heavy...
You don't know where fatigue starts and where sleepiness ends,
where hunger and anger meets;
You lie there,
wide-eyed and gasping silently,
watching:
how emptiness of the heart slowly but surely eating away the heartbeat.
The rhythm of the heartbeat slows and quickens, irregular and panicky.
Cold sweat gathers in the heat of the balmy hours.
Your palms sticky with weariness,
the running tap wouldn't and couldn't wash it away.
You can't wash yourself away.
Or wish your existence away.
No.
No.
No.
You just lie there,
wide-eyed and suffer in silence.
It's 3am.

Letters number one hundred and thirty: The days go on

Dearest J,

I don't know if you have ever stopped in your track, and think...everyday, at every juncture of predicament and challenge in your way - you are learning how to live.

Does it ever get tiring, I am refraining from asking you questions because I know I have to answer everything myself.  The answers come much later down the road.  They will come.

The way I see my life now is in two parts, the one with you in it and the one AFTER you.  Honestly, in the most ironic, perhaps morbid and unromantic way - I feel like I've only start to 'live' this life after you left.  It feels like the life with you before was my university years, preparing me for the real thing after you go.  After you let go of your firm and reassuring grip on me.

Off I go.  It still feels like sometimes such a tiresome chore to be treading this road of life.  At most times I look around and see so much to be thankful for - even without anyone to hold on to.  Isn't it so true, that we come into this world alone and we go alone.  With families and closest of friends, we are always, all the time alone, inside ourselves.

Here I am J, coming to my second album soon; surviving the big unknown again.  Still feeling almost lost in looking for my voice, still looking, at my 11th year of working in music; still looking for myself at my 39th year of being alive.  And oh, learning in giving my body and my mind to the pleasure of the flesh a second chance, learning from scratch in becoming a woman again.  Learning new tricks to pick myself up each time I fall prey to fear and doubts, learning to listen to old advice like a trusted therapist.

And I do feel oh so lazy some days, a lot of days.  My laziness drive me to the kitchen, and proceed to intoxicate my mind with cooking...a pot of tea and some snacks and open pages in books, cleaning up the corners of the flat, dusting off books piled on the shelves, more eating and drinking tea in bed and sofa, more cooking...

And oh, I have finally caught up with you in the running/jogging.  I enjoy a run outside, whether alone or with friends.  The haze in the city has been bad each season and our clear sky days are quite numbered so that is quite an annoying deterrent for running outside.  I have learned how to do breast stroke proper, I enjoy swimming nowadays.  I have started a daily morning workout routine at home after I make my bed, this started after my birthday just more than a week ago.

Still lots to learn J. To stay constantly motivated to stay alive and be better in things.  I am slow but I never stop.

Feel good to talk to you.  Just needed to let this out so I can go on.


Much love, thinking of you,

B

the stranger in town

Loneliness is, ....was a stranger here.
But he knocked my door and dropped his bag at my feet,
Saying he needed a place to stay for a week or two.
"It's full everywhere else."

I look him in the eye,
"OK, only for a while."
- a case of hesitation and reluctance gave way to kindness?
He walked in and declared,
"What a nice home you have, for a tired stranger like me."

Hmm, gosh, I hope he likes the same books that I read.
I made tea and sat next to him,
"I don't drink coffee, but there are some 2-in-1 over there in the second drawer.  Help yourself."
He smiled while staring at my painting on the wall and said,
"No worries dear, I'll have whatever you're having."

Overhaul

It has been a whirlwind of self-doubts and an overdrive of soul-searching, last two days.  It's like an extended period of over-analyzing and over-thinking about my singing.

The FBI show at No Black Tie came and went, I had a decent turn out for a weeknight performance, according to Evelyn herself.

The stress I went through for the gig was nightmarish, with it I walked away with a few expensive lessons. Things that I think I should have the wisdom to see it coming, having been performing for years - I should have had the brains to prevent them but no.  I guess better late than never having learned.

I under estimated the workload for a performance with such little rehearsal.  

I learned never to put up a show with 95% new material being performed for the first time. Not when there is only one rehearsal, not when the music director is going through a peak period of work.

I learned to take smarter risks, if I were to venture out of a comfort zone of my voice & singing for a show, I will need to invest more rehearsal and workshop time.  In fact, I think I would, and I should for now, stick to what suits my voice best for now - jazz standards and Shidaiqu, until I get better at them, I should not venture too far away from the genres.

I should never go on stage until I have carefully considered my talking points in between songs - rambling away is not cool, however much my friends love me, there will always be a stranger or two in the audience who's watching my performance for the first time.

So yes, anyway, the clock doesn't turn back for anyone or anything, I can only look forward and move on - and it's up to me to make things better for the future.

Action plan: 

Increase the amount of high-focus rehearsal time spent on every new song

Work with a metronome 

Learn productive listening to a recording or a performance

Look forward and just keep working, ranting should be kept to minimal.

Heaven and Hell

I was feeling almost reptile-like, a cool-head, clear mind thinking person a day ago.  But a day later I am overwhelmed by so much emotions that I almost laugh out loud at the absurdity of life.

You know that feeling of sheer helplessness that contort your face into a frown and a bitter smirk?  

I fed Hussein this evening, I stood outside his house watching this creature chew on rice and bones and truly miss him all over again.  That sharp-knife wave of sadness always get to me every time I look at Hilary and Hussein at his place.  I feel very sorry for the cat and dog that he who used to talk to them and play with them is not around.  On other side of the thought, I am very grateful that J's family never fail to make sure the animals get their feed everyday, even when they are away.

Alex and I sat in silence long enough to register our inner thought, after I brought up the Marco Simoncelli accident over dinner.  The bike crash tragedy made front page of The Star today, replaced the original story of Dama's end of the In Perfect Harmony concert run.  I was sipping champagne last night after the show when Glenn from The Star told me about the horrific death of Simoncelli at 2pm yesterday.  

As much as I'd like to know more details on the Italian rider accident, I guess I couldn't read it in front of Alex.  Anyway he took  the paper from me and read the coverage nonetheless.  His left leg is in a cast, he fell from his bike last week, now fresh out of an ankle surgery.  He showed me the x-rays and told me he will be on leave for the next six weeks.

Just minutes before that, I lied next to Mama listening to her updates on relatives.  I haven't been to the house for weeks since the Dama run started.  A thick cloud of guilt swept over me as I lie there listening to the updates on everyone.  The elderly circle is full of a gradual escalation of health deterioration of sorts.  Inside of me, the guilt of being busy was eating me in large bites.  I could see that I have a role in this family, I am meant to be the daughter they didn't give birth to - the desire to spend more time with his mom and Mama is very great.  

I had very urge to leave the house at once so I could be alone to deal with all the emotions.  So I distracted myself with two large bowls of ABC soup and rice...the TV was playing Shaw Shank Redemption.  Tristan was running around playing with everything.  

Less than a day ago I was full of concern over my own doubts and feelings.  Right now am in funky mix of weariness and anticipation.  There's never going to be enough time to do everything that I want to do, to make things right, to feel right.  

When I left my flat earlier to drive over to his house, I was  happy that the skin on my face can finally breathe freely without a trace of make-up.  Then I remember how he used to remind me that I look very good to him when am without any make-up.  I look into the lift lobby mirror at my sallow skin and dark eye circles that scream attention, I guess tonight is the time for some private indulgence of very serious sentiment - missing him.

I've been so busy with life, the life am making without him.  Guess I have earned the right to now sit here, to do nothing and just miss him.  

Letter ninety-six- Day two hundred and thirteen of your vacation

Dearest J,

Missing you, mad.  Have been feeling some and haven't told you about it...so here goes.  It's dark, gloomy, nothing necessarily useful but it feels needed to be said, so I shall.

Real torture is holding back tears, a refrain from crying.  I was starting to enjoy it a lot but my eyes started to react to it and couple with stage make up (and the removing of it), these eyes need proper rest and care.

I didn't expect it to get worse, I thought that with time, I ought to feel better in time.  But now as the clock ticks and from 6 months going into 7 months and beyond, the missing gets worse.

On a day like today when I function incredibly well, almost more efficient than ever, organised as hell, rational behaviour and all that - when am in my corner facing my hot shower for the night, I feel quite close to a creature in a mental asylum, gone quite mad.

`Everything' is going so well, I am not incredibly busy and swamped with work, but busy enough...steady is the word.  I feel well, I thought I do.  This inner world somehow seems to a mad roller coaster of weathers.  Am starting to guess, maybe am being suppressed by my rational mind.  The minds tells me to behave, and reminds me there isn't any point and benefit in dwelling in this emotional state.

It's like, having the feeling that I haven't spent enough time, to hide away long enough, to just lash out with tears and all things grey.  As if I haven't spent long enough time with the floods, stormy weather, raging waves...hence the sunny weather is looking to be short-lived.  It's like someone who hasn't completely been cured off a bad case of food poisoning, now the diarrhea is looming near.

Feels as if I moved on too fast for my own good and now I face the repercussion of my speedy recovery, like someone who's gone on a crazy highly effective and fast diet and now face with the side effects of the diet.

Maybe I can go on a hideout trip again by myself, just to spend time missing you and do nothing else.

Until then, the sun rises everyday...some mornings here have been gloomy and very cool.  I have been lonely.  Just today I thought to myself, and asked myself to relax, and just enjoy it...enjoy and embrace single-hood.  Wasn't I the girl who truly loved life a lot being single? - I reminded myself.  Be that girl again.

Seems like a tall order, there were many unfulfilling dating experiences I went through.  I was truly home when I had the wealth of you next to me.  Imagine one who has gotten used to the luxury of a bed, a roof over a head, now one has to be out in the elements and embrace it.

All right, bed IS a pretty attractive option right now.  Distractions and my rational behaviour aside, these are my darker moods when no one is looking, when am alone in our space, when I live in my inner world.

I think I will be fine.  Maybe I have been taking something for granted, I tell people am good, well and fine all the damn time...sometimes I just don't know if am fine but that's the line to say, "Am fine.  Thank you."

Good night darling.

Love,

B

Pick Myself Up

When am down and out and in deep doubt, other than talking to wise ones for advice, I turn to music when all else fails. Music & songs have never failed me.

On this particular night, this is the song for me :)

Pick Yourself Up

Jerome Kern & Dorothy Fields, 1936

Pick yourself up...
Take a deep breath...
Dust yourself off
And start all over again.

Nothing's impossible, I have found
For when my chin is on the ground.
I pick myself up,
Dust myself off
And start all over again.

Don't lose your confidence
If you slip
Be grateful for a pleasant trip
And pick yourself up,
Dust yourself off
And start all over again.

Work like a soul inspired
Until the battle of the day is won.
You may be sick and tired,
But you'll be a man, my son.

Will you remember the famous men
Who had to fall to rise again
They picked themselves up
Dust themselves off
And start'd all over again.

early morning..

diary of recovering

sunday...my first day back at work, meeting a bride-to-be at 10am for a chat about her wedding dinner entertainment.

I tell you what's a nice feeling...

it's staring at your own clean face in a clean mirror in the morning (my wall mirror has always been dusty till lately, hired help came...).

anyway, while am recovering at home, I noticed and discovered many many nice things, nice feelings, some new, some forgotten and found. But of course all these didn't come the first 5 days. The first five days I think...I was shitting in my pants, figuratively.

Anyway, I guess J and I don't need to pursue that beach-sleep-and-eat-holiday so soon and so importantly coz we agreed this morning that, while it's nice to be able to get away (then come home and boast about it) -- it's been far more perfect that the last few days he comes over when he can, to fuss over me and just, to be together...far better, less fuss, less carbon print than travelling over the globe to romance.

Ah, also I spent the last two days working on some work stuff, for my singing career :)

I finally learned to use PICASA...compiled some photos for work, have a look..

Ensemble

What if..

Laryngitis diary

First entry, day: 6

"What if I can't sing anymore, will you still love me?"

J came over last night after work to distract me. For five days I stayed home, cooking, going back and forth from doctors to home, cleaning, waiting for Internet to work, answering endless smses from clients, eat, taking pills, washing, cleaning...emailing, a mini-crisis-management centre. A mini one enough to get me go quite insane.

To find replacement singers for three performances, back to back from tomorrow to Saturday.

Nice break, I took J's advise to distract myself. I pop in a DVD (Sex And The City, couldn't be bothered with something arty) and watched from dusk to night. Then we had supper of egg buggers when he came over, and finished watching The Pursuit Of Happiness together.

Today, third visit to my GP for loss of voice. She said I am to start on papase, and she up the dosage of my prescribed steroid...and then I SHOULD be fine by Friday.

...but this is what it's like for me, these last few days, last few short (painfully long for me) days, it's like am sitting in a cell, barred from my normal life, waiting for my jail sentence to be written (if the outcome is a bad one), or waiting for the jury to give a favourable verdict (if the outcome is a good one).

Whether or not I'd be fine by tomorrow, or Friday, or Saturday...next week, who knows that, all I can do is sit here and wait (ok, besides sitting I also eat, take pills, gargle salt water, sms, emails...) , wait and see. I have no control as far as my voice box is concerned.

And then I diligently look back at any records of my last case of laryngitis, back in February, during CNY. I counted down the days of my recovery before I had my first performance, on Feb 20th. Got infected on Feb 5, cancelled a show for Feb 8 (or was it 7?), I managed to perform with a voice almost back to normal on the 20th. I remember that performance well...I was placed in a chilly-cold dressing room to prepare myself. I had with me a big jar of Manuka honey and I was sipping water and honey.

So that Feb episode took 14 days. I had between last Friday to tomorrow, 6 days from infection to first performance. Will I make it? Are you kidding? I don't know! Thank goodness for my replacement singers....Zal, Angela and...Michelle?

I see no gradual improvement of my voice in the past 5 days. Have been drifting from feeling frustrated to given-in-relaxed, back and forth, back and forth. J said this stress is probably releasing hormones that are hinders to my recovery. He also understand that it's not easy to not think about it.

Loss of voice and a singer.

What if.

If you were an artiste, have you ever thought about what kind of a person you would be if you have to

stop painting forever

never dance again

never sing again

stop acting forever

never to run again

stop playing piano for good

never bake another cake

never to see ever again

....

happy being depressed?

ok, I guess the mature way to look at it would be to think - lessons learned, move on to better things, to better myself.

...while the human way to feel it would be to stop in the track and cry, pointing a few fingers at people (including at myself), over analyse things and dwell in the situation.

there must be this strange kind of reward that we give our brains when we get depressed and often decide to dwell on it...to get attention from others? To enjoy the bitterness while we are at it? ...am sure somewhere in The Science of Happiness, Stefan Klein explained it quite well.

haven't you met people who seem to be in a perpetual state of complaining (about everything) and moody (all year round)? They must be the kind who are getting their fix of high from being upset all the time.

...ok enough air time for bad mood. Time to move on....



Editorial Reviews from Amazon on the book mentioned above...

From Publishers Weekly
A leading German science journalist explores the nature of happiness through the latest research in brain science in this instructive study. Positive and negative feelings, he says, are generated by different mental systems; thus, people whose right frontal lobe dominates tend to be more pessimistic, while those with a stronger left lobe are predisposed to optimism and self-confidence. Despite genetic programming, the author says, the brain is "malleable," and anyone with a desire for happiness is able to perceive and experience more pleasurable emotions. Drawing on complex experiments with animals, he suggests specific strategies to overcome depression, including engaging in activities, especially physical activities or simple tasks that easily offer a sense of success; and writing down negative thoughts, then marshaling the evidence against them. Klein looks at the complex relationship between income and satisfaction and the importance of self-determination and social connections. The surest path to happiness, Klein is convinced, is to know oneself. (July)
Copyright © Reed Business Information, a division of Reed Elsevier Inc. All rights reserved.

Product Description

Clinical psychologists have been dealing with miserable feelings since their discipline was established. In the last 30 years, neuroscientists have made major headway in the understanding of the sources of anger, depression, and fear. Today, whole industries profit from this knowledge—producing pills for every sort of pathological mood disturbance. But until recently, few neuroscientists focused on the subject of happiness. Now, in The Science of Happiness, leading German science journalist Stefan Klein ranges widely across the latest frontiers of neuroscience and neuropsychology to explain how happiness is fostered in our brains and what biological purpose it serves (and, importantly, how we can control our negative feelings and emotions). In addition, he explains the neurophysiology of our passions (the elementary rules of which are hardwired into our brains), the power of consciousness, and how we can use it. In a final section, Klein explores the conditions required to foster the "pursuit of happiness." A remarkable synthesis of a growing body of research that has not heretofore been brought together in one accessible book, The Science of Happiness will ultimately help each of us understand our own quest for happiness—and our fostering of it, as well.

For the love you bring won't mean a thing untill you sing sing sing...

I've been for days being very reflective...maybe the cold bug makes me that ;p

As I lied this morning next to the man I love so much and who loves me back dearly...I cannot help but wonder for myself, and for everyone out there...

Will the love you bring to the world, will your passions and your work still mean the same thing to you if you haven't got a partner who is there for your at the end of your journey everyday? No matter how far apart or near, this person shares your life and your inspirations, your pain and your joy...everything.

I wonder because I cannot answer myself if what I am today, and tomorrow will mean the same to me if I haven't got J in my life.

I don't think am a hopeless romantic but a realist....so what do you think? Is life condemned just because you are alone on the road?

pic by 2046 studio

breathe again...and memories of Shenzhen

Note to self, breathe.

I tell myself I deserve to breathe and loosen up the grip of my hand on the steering wheels when I drive...

Ego can take you to places but it can also break you, reminder to self. With thanks to Nicole who reminded me.

anyway, while I write, some pictures from my trip to Shenzhen in March....pictures to relax with...coz it's food and travel :)
J and I were in heaven, sweet potato porridge and dishes...
...give me white porridge ANY DAY :)

Anyway, had some crazy weeks before this and some crazy ones ahead but I am happy to find this moment to blog. I like (like so many people in the city too) a busy schedule at work and play but I need to float on top of it.

not that I don't already know this...
"Highly-strung people get more disease...stress major factor in health."

I'm having the most exciting (singing) schedule since I started in the business. I have to juggle between getting to shows on time and learning my music in time to get on stage...also handling disappointments, rejections, complaints, people...just like any normal job ain't it?

But performing is different from say, handling an advertising campaign with a team. Performing is just you, out there and up there, open to anyone and everyone's critic. Criticism comes a lot closer to your heart for the performers. But where reward is due, the satisfaction is sweeter too.

And the thing I have to remind myself about ego, really, sometimes, there's only a thin fine line between...separating misery and happiness. A lot of times, happiness is a matter of the mind...

so...breathe....and live...

anyway, back to more pictures of Shenzhen :)

my man on holidayvery spicy snack
my nick name, what friend Nell calls me

a charmed life

Woke up this morning feeling very blessed and happy, contented with my life...with the state it is in right now.

(moody, female artiste...persona, different feeling all the time, hahaha)

Feeling contented not because everything is perfect in my life but because, everything is perfectly slightly imperfect and I get to enjoy working on making things better...it's been many things rolled in one but I like the results. It's dynamic, it's exciting.

On the whole, I've been blessed with people who stand by my work, a circle of people who help me with my work, with clients who still call me...and this journey down my career path that is uncertain, exciting and downright exhilarating. I'm no what some would called the `local celebrity' or getting so many bookings that I need a personal assistant, or bagging any awards...but I feel blessed nevertheless.

Can't quite pin down why but I just feel that it's been a nice ride so far and I like to carry on on this ride. It's been great talking and making music and stuff with friends and strangers who become friends.

I performed last night to a crowd of less than 30 and it took me a couple of songs to calm my nerves. I wasn't over the moon with my performance but I was feeling rather satisfied with the whole process of rehearsing and performing last night's set because I was doing, ok ok, attempting something artistically different, something outside my comfort zone, something challenging for me.

The dramaqueens...The Tangerines at No Black Tie last night
We sang a set of ten songs, it was a first for me to improvise parts and harmonies during a performance, all the way through except for the songs where I took the melody line. I felt closer to being a musician now, rather than only a soloist.

It's a feeling of fulfillment having done something new and the enjoying the learning curve, not that everything came out right all the way through. Not sure if then I should have to apologize to the audience for `jamming' during a performance but my excuse is, every performer needs a live audience to know what works and what doesn't.

I should be so lucky to be working with people who do not discourage me because of my lack of flair in the business of singing as an ensemble member. Nicole, Zal and her sister Zhen cried, screamed, laughed and shrieked through our rehearsal but never once told me to give it up because I was struggling.

That must have contributed to how I woke up feeling elated.

Also, I got a call last week and auditioned for a play and read a part in Malay, my performance there wasn't profound or anything but again, I walked out feeling top of the world doing something outside my comfort zone.

Not sure if five years down the road I'd still be excited and un-jaded but I'm saving all my energy on living an artsy, charmed life now.

health audit

Clearly I've been a slop, not sloppy in my flat but everywhere else...

Dealing with the every day complaints of little aches, pains, diarhoea...for such a long time and only now I realise that I've been sloppy with myself.

In the last one month I have gone to see doctors twice for migraines, one visit to a specialist about my frequent bloatiness, two visits to seek help for laryngitis and common cold. It's scarier to start counting the times I reach over counter to take my prescriptions.

Loss of voice (a case of laryngitis on Chinese new year's eve) gets me stuck in a mood swing which start a strings of damaging thoughts. You know, the typical self-doubts, depressive & cranky ways..

Didn't help is my short-fused ways when having to deal with all my family members all in one week (it's also called the annual event of Chinese new year). I don't know how but I know next year I want to try to be nicer, to the people, supposedly closest to me. Duh, to think I was the one reminding my friend the other day that "this life and this world has enough terrors and horrors that we really don't need, shouldn't add more unpleasantness to it..".

So my laryngitis turned into a maniac case of coughing and half-dripping nose. The uncontrollable coughing worries me and make me sad. Encounter with a seemingly `I dont really care' GP in a 24-hour clinic last weekend didn't help. Completed one course of antibiotics did no improvement to my condition.

So today in the midst of my sulking in my own world with coughs and mucus all over, I went to see my usual GP, about the only GP in town I trust. She examined my throat and told me not to worry too much and put me on another course of antibiotics, plus she said, I need to start sleeping more, and exercise three times a week.

I know working out is a sure fire way to beat depression (I have a mild case of that, am sure) but the past week and today...I just don't feel like moving much, kept thinking about when will my voice come back (no voice, no work).

Ok, it's time to do that health audit and stop the nonsensical ranting about my life when I have so much...

Going to have Valentine's Day dinner tonight with my hero-man, Indian food it is.

The audit

bad meal times
bad sleeping hours
bad management of time
very lack of exercise
very stressed out...duno why

The action plan

starting dance class in Caterpillar end of this month, jazz
contemplate music lessons
sleep earlier than 2am everyday
regular meals
exercise weekly
I duno how yet, but I have to learn how to get less stressed-out

fellowship of men...

Self doubt is a merciless monster that gnaw at your mind. Also, it remind you why some people are driven to madness to seek peer approval, scary...

Will power is the greatest power of all, hmm...maybe next to the power of love :)

...what do you think of people who live at their own standard of measurement of achievement? Sure sounds like a neat idea...? To never have to live up to others standard? But is there meaning living on an island of your own standards? and not being able to have a taste of what it's like to bask in others' applause...

It's a known fact that human interaction and emotional connection with fellow human beings contribute to feeling of fulfillment and happiness.

I guess there is no running away from being part of this human circle, society standard thing...is there?

Remembering the angst

A chance encounter with an outburst of emotion brought me back to the days of my early adulthood angst, sometimes, in my days as a 30-year-old, I wonder if some of it still bury in the deep of my mostly-contented self these days.

I remember in vivid images of my days as a girl with an identity issue. It's something extremely personal but I feel putting these feelings in words will help me put things and issues in perspective. I don't know when and how it started that I was always comparing social status of my family and those of my friends', since a young kid in school. I could try and analyze the cause of my thoughts as a young person but I wouldn't.

...ah, I remember...I was always reminded about the my position as the daughter of someone who is a mere wage earner. I have childhood memories of playing with my father's bosses' daughters and went home feeling all lousy, engraving in my mind that I was a second class little person. My little brain started to form ideas about my lack of importance in the world, simply because the girl I played with was the child of the man who writes my father's pay cheque.

Sometimes my mother told of stories during her poorer days when she and my father had just gotten married and building a young family, making ends meet. Though I wasn't getting all the material things that a young girl can get, I was told that I was the luckiest child among my siblings, born where is plenty on the dining table everyday. My mother said she and father used to receive leftover food from neighbors.

So I grew up believing in wealth equals to power and privileges, well, this is still true am I right? I still live here on this planet of...capitalism. Maybe I realised it much earlier than some other kids, given the background I came from.

Skipped years after my bitter memories of playing with little rich girls. Somehow I continue to somehow, keep staying in social circle of friends from well-off families. During my college years I struggled too with `making my own person' in the capital city, learning to deal with my peculiar insecurities for a rather young person who's not really seen any real hardship in life.

What the hell was my problem? Am not really sure...

Was I ashame that my father couldn't afford to pay me through fancy universities abroad?
Was I ashame that I didn't own a mobile phone while my classmates played with theirs?
Was I ashame that I wasn't excellent academically like my sister?
Was I ashame that I was tall or fair or pretty like other girls in college?
Was I ashame that my mother is not as glamorous like my friends'?

Answers to all the above was No, but there was a strange bug that plagued me through those what I'd call the `angsty' years. You can usually spot when a person is full of angst -- like the world owes her the world.

Well, I guess independence did me lots of good. When I eventually moved out to live on my own and landed myself in jobs that paid for my necessities and vanity, I slowly got to know myself better and think about things a lot. Making friends along the way helped me come out of my limited sense of the world. It was a long time before I could relax with people my age who could all share their experience of their days abroad in the universities, or travelling to many parts of the world, I have none to tell and it doesn't bug me anymore.

I guess without planning it, I have sort of replaced that missing part (the fancy uni days) of my young adult life with other experiences such as going to theatres, befriending activists, reading books of worldly ideas (suppose you could obtain the same by travelling), rehearsing for stage performances and other things that bring me a sense of the well-being.

Of course now having worked for years now and seen some places, I realised what a lucky person I am to be where I am. Having seen and befriended people who lived and died on the streets can make you a very different person. Imagine, how I can gripe about driving a 1984 Nissan Sunny when I recall this homeless man I know who we (friends and I) used to hand out used clothes to. That man was walking on the street in his torn trousers, exposing his left thigh when he walked, a volunteer next to me quickly handed me a pair of used trouser and told me to give it to him. He took the trouser from me without saying a word except an acknowledgment of a nod...my friend and I both turned away hiding tears when we saw this man walked away wiping tears off his face.

Still, it's quite a different life to be with the `normal folks' where conversations can be all about trading mobile phones for the latest models, discussing their next vacation, next investment property...

or when they start to discuss the state of my car.

Basically I think I have come out of my almost life-long insecurity of being the girl whose father is a wage earner, who's never lived overseas, whose parents aren't highly-educated, etc.

Am almost too happy these days that I drive a Nissan Sunny, nearly in a fashion that mocks the middle class...just a bit. But mostly am just really happy to own a car that gets me to places on time, with air con that beats the afternoon heat and low car maintenance.

But sometimes I don't know for sure if those angst have really left me for good.

....but in the meantime, am just happy to be what I am now, today and knowing I have a man who loves me for what I was and I have become now.