10-11-25
“You were not born to be perfect.
You were not born to be happy all of the time.
But if you commit yourself each day to doing the work of being fully human and feeling even when you are afraid, you can transcend in a way that is truly beautiful.” – “The Mountain is You,” by Brianna Wiest.
I think when we allow ourselves to be sad over the inevitables, and give thanks for what used to be, we can find some sort of peace with the present.
10-10-25
Two days ago a screw from my brace (Knee-Ankle-Foot Orthotics) came loose. I didn’t realise it till the metal bars came apart & grazed my skin.
I panicked. Without the brace, walking is painful. I panicked because my brace was customised overseas. The company that handled my case has since changed hands. Any replacement parts if they still exist will take time to source & order.
Meanwhile, a trip downstairs to retrace my steps & see if I could locate the lost screw was urgently needed.
But I couldn’t do so with a broken brace.
In my anxiety, a memory from years ago of an unkempt but cheerful man outside the Ganesh temple along Keong Siak Road floated up in my mind like a movie.
Even though the man didn’t look like he was all there, he had the sense to hold up his oversized pants by passing a rafia string through the belt loops around his waist.
Palms together, the homeless looking person would greet just about anyone passing by or entering the temple dedicated to Ganesh, the elephant-headed deity of Wisdom & Resourcefulness.
Inspired by the memory of his resourcefulness, I lost my fear. As calm descended, a space in me opened up to see if cable ties could hold up my brace.
And the ties worked!
With my brace secured by these plastic wonders, I painlessly & confidently sallied forth & found the missing screw lying on the walkway down my block.
I now have 2 pieces of cable ties in my wallet, just in case. And it humbles me deeply to see that a vagabond is also a channel of divine guidance. 🙏
14-8-25
To wish for what one cannot change or become is suffering indeed.
In my youth, I admired my peers for being able to prance about in their heels and slingbacks, and spin gracefully on their ankles to express joy.
So instead of being grateful for the grounding support of my metal brace & laced up boots, I resented them for being constant reminders of my physical impairment.
Thankfully in the past couple of years, a series of pain episodes have shown me “resistance is futile,” especially at my age.
So early this year at the physiotherapist’s office, I cuddled & prayed over the plaster mold of my leg she made before sending it out to the brace maker.
I even apologised to the likes of the boots I rejected in my youth. In my desperate attempts to blend, I was blind to the possibility of starting what could have been a trend.
Last month at Red Wing, as the lace of my boots tightened, and the leather sides aligned to meet my ankle, I felt a shift from dread to peace.
It was like coming home to myself. No more wishing to be someone else, no more apologising for my limp & no more fear of rejection.
As I thought about how wonderful it would be if someone could capture my moment of acceptance, a photographer happened to drop by.
Even though he felt the lighting was not ideal for the photograph he had in mind, he would still like to take some pictures to help me remember.
I gladly accepted his offer. And this time for my first black & white shot of my adult life & for the first time in my whole life, I made zero effort to hide my leg, but happily put my best foot forward. 😄
My Dad would have been 87 today.
In his lifetime he took on all sorts of work to make ends meet. He welded, sold coconut juice, ran stalls , picked fruits, and traded in discarded items. No job was too lowly for the man on his trusty Vespa.
Being of limited education he had to endure all kinds of job instability. Not wanting to cause alarm or appear incapable, he kept his hardship to himself.
There was even once he spent days on the beach during working hours so that we wouldn’t know he had lost his job.
Growing up, my dad’s explosive rage & harsh words hurt me. Yet he was also the one who modelled sustained silent reading, and piqued my interest in national geographic, movies, art, music & non-chinese foods.
This man who chain smoked to the detriment of his own lungs also picked herbs and killed & cooked wildgame to feed me in hope of restoring my leg.
One day I gathered the courage to tell him I didn’t mind limping so he didn’t have to kill anything anymore. That was the end of my dad’s dabbling with innocent lives to mend mine.
My dad would have been 87 years old today. And as I age, I draw strength from his willingness to accept all things, so that nothing can cause us to lose our footing. 🪷🙏
(In Memory of a Very Brave Community Cat)
27-May-2025 (New Moon)
Today is New Moon. It’s also Day 7 since the passing of Topaz, the last member of a school community cat project that began in 2007.
In all of his 18 years, Topaz lived by his own terms. He accepted food, water & treats, but would disappear for days if anyone tried to get close to him.
As he aged & health issues surfaced, worries over his safety & where he might hide increased. Having lost their mother when he was a kitten & later on his litter mates & cat buddies to dogs & traffic accidents, Topaz was the ultimate survivor.
But even heroes need to rest. Last week, with prayer support from well wishers across the world & help from his feeders, Topaz finally allowed himself to be taken to the vet & then to home palliative care.
He spent the last few days of his life without fear, leaning his lovely leonine head towards his feeders’ palms when they stroked him for the first time.
After he had breathed his last, Topaz was carefully brushed, blessed & wrapped in cloths bearing auspicious symbols.
On the paperwork for his final transformation, I wrote, “Himalayan” for his breed & “Gold” for his colour.
This little cat will forever be associated with the mountains for his will to live & his love for freedom, and the Light he continues to cast on the lives of many who remember him.
Finally an abundant life is not just about length, but also about love. And I think Topaz has both. ♥️🙏
13 March 2025
How could you miss a place you hadn’t visited? I could. Through my grandmother.
My grandmother was born in city of Houpu on Kinmen Island in 1914. It was 3 years after the fall of the Ching Dynasty and the start of World War 1.
When she was 7 years old, turbulent times forced her to leave Kinmen for Singapore. She never set foot on her birth place nor saw her parents ever again.
This yearning for Kinmen would manifest in the constant repetition of her family name, her language group, her city of birth, and in her cooking & aesthetics.
In 2019, when I arrived in Kinmen for the first time and saw her family name written in gold characters, I felt a surge of awe! So this is the character that my grandma was so concerned about throughout her whole life!
She taught me how her family name, 翁 “ongg” should be pronounced using the first tone in Kinmen language. It was not to be mistaken for 王 “ong” which was using the second tone.
My grandmother was the only person I know who had nostalgic feelings for words.
When I walked the lanes of her birth place, I felt a sense of homecoming & reunion on her behalf. The red lanterns hanging about bearing the city’s name “后浦” may appear ordinary to the locals & tourists. But for me who had heard my grandmother speak it for years, I finally understood 后浦 is real, and not a figment of an old woman’s imagination.
Outside a temple where an ancient banyan tree of more than a 100 years old stood, I touched its trunk reverently. My grandmother could have touched the same tree too.
Apart from words, my grandmother also kept Kinmen alive through her cooking. Her spring rolls, longevity noodles面线, glutinous rice油饭, leek 大蒜& yam dishes were quintessentially Kinmenese.
Strands of noodles swaying in the Kinmen breeze & sun taught me why my grandmother was ever so joyful when she cooked bowls of “mee sua” for us. The ever delicate longevity noodles was probably one of her few tangible links to memories of her Kinmen home.
In the news the narratives surrounding Kinmen Island tend to focus on geopolitical issues & what Kinmen can offer in terms of enjoyment & entertainment. But for folks like me, this little island has done more than its share of giving, sheltering & loving. It now deserves to be revered, cherished & protected.
I’m honoured to have visited this magical island that my grandmother pined for till her demise. I wish Kinmen everlasting peace & prosperity for the benefit of everyone, regardless of their beliefs.
29 January 2025
The wind rose and sent the tree branches dancing as I approached the temple on the morning of Chinese New Year.
I stood on the steps to savour the rustling of leaves & greeted the Chiku Tree. Planted by my dad when we were kids, this tree being has been tended to by kinsmen, kinswomen & friends with rudimentary plant knowledge.
Each season the Chiku Tree brings forth sweet & succulent fruits that feed birds and are given freely to whoever asks.
Quietly, she bears witness to all temple festivities, performances & feasts. Banquet cooks & street opera singers catch their breaths under her loving auspices. Our late temple cats filed their nails on her trunks.
With each passing year, my admiration for the Chiku Tree grows. She brings sweetness, provides refuge & inspires trust with minimum fuss.
How auspicious it will be, if we could age The Way of the Chiku Tree! 😄🙏
24-12-24
About 20 Christmas Eves ago, I passed by 4 dogs sheltering under a vacated apartment block. There had been an on off drizzle much like today.
I went home, put down my stuff & went out again to the supermarket to get dog food and aluminium trays in preparation to feed them.
By the time I got to the abandoned block, I couldn’t find the dogs.
A sense of disappointment mixed with deepening unease crept up on me as I surveyed the deserted neighbourhood in the failing light.
At that moment of uncertainty, a voice called out to me,”Miss Ong, what are you doing here?”
I turned around. Two boys had seemed to materialise from nowhere. They introduced themselves as students from one of the schools I had worked in.
When I told them about my failed feeding attempt, they took over the trays of dog food and completed my mission.
8 years after that Christmas Eve encounter, I would be relocated to a new flat that sits on the land where I fed the homeless dogs.
And each Christmas Eve especially on a cool evening like this, I will hear the Angels loud & clear: “Miss Ong, what are you doing here?” 🙏
21-12-24
This morning between sleep & wakefulness, I thought I heard my cat, Emmanuel meowing, for his breakfast.
12 days before this Solstice, I was scheduled to fly back from Nepal. In an apartment in Thamel, I dreamt of my late father.
In the dream, I was rushing for work. As usual. But this time my Dad was with me. Then I realised I didn’t have my bag with me!
As I sat anxiously on the floor putting on my shoes, the concierge found my bag which my Dad handed to me.
Relieved, I told my Dad I would be fine and that he could go home. The Grab car was on its way.
My Dad was reluctant to go. I then reminded him to keep his feet dry and remember to wipe between his toes. He was an avid walker, wader & climber. Still, he stood looking at me.
Then I assured him that when I got back we would go eat noodles together. Only then he nodded one more time and left.
Emmanuel’s meows this morning & dreaming of my Dad in Thamel are somewhat food related.
Also these days I find every reason to meet up with my brothers for meals. Apart from our chats that heal old wounds, having meals with them is my way of staying connected to our Dad.
And I wouldn’t be penning this down if Emmanuel hadn’t turned up this morning to remind me the ones we love are never far away.
As we observe the Solstice for the balance of dark & light, may the love we’ve cultivated in the past continue to nourish us for the future.
27-10-24
This morning before it got too hot, we headed to the Jurong Lake to practise walking in my new boots.
To motivate me, my friend brought coffee and yutiao (fried dough fritters) from Bt Panjang market.
The sturdy boardwalk supported our feet as we strolled. Below us the green water stretched on endlessly. Above us, white wispy clouds spread across the blue sky like tracks left behind by wind horses.
We glanced guiltily at joggers passing by before taking a bite of the deep fried delight of our childhood. 😄
As we savoured our simple breakfast, we were treated to a display of aerial prowess by the brief appearance of, I believed to be either a white bellied sea eagle or a brahminy kite.
The wingspan was spectacular to behold, and as if telling me, “Be not dismayed you earth bound creature of flawed feet. Your wings are in your mind.”
Here’s wishing all a calming close to October and light footed grace to November. 🙏
Lisa Ong 