Love Sustains All

28 Oct 2022

My reflection is captured by the broken heart cradled in the arms of Mother Teresa by Eleanora Artglass. (Marina Bay Sands, Exhibition Hall C, 27 Oct 2022)

Eversince they did a comprehension cloze on the significance of Kit Kat chocolate wafer in Japan, my 11-year-old tutees have been periodically asking for Kit Kats.

Kit Kat from Japan bought at Don Don Donki Supermarket in Jcube, Singapore.

One week after another passed by while their requests marinated in my mind. Going to the supermarket or mall these days feels like a huge undertaking.

But yesterday after an artglass exhibition at Marina Bay Sands, I decided to drop by Don Don Donki supermarket at my default shopping mall, JEM, to fulfill the children’s wish.

Mother Teresa humbly works the ground even in artistic form.

As I got onto the cab, the thought of navigating the cavernous JEM to reach my prize suddenly felt very exhausting. And then it struck me that JCube, a much smaller mall in the same area, also has a Don Don Donki!

The driver fulfilled my wish for a destination change & spared me from incurring extra charges by not requiring me to reroute my booking.

While on my Kit Kat quest, I stopped by briefly at a spectacle shop. After answering my queries, the sales staff who served me asked where I got my cane accessories from. Her dad uses a cane too. Her parents live in the eastern part of Singapore, while she now lives in the west, having gotten married recently.

I could tell from the few words she used to describe her dad that she worried about him. When I listed the places where she could help her dad explore mobility aid options, she noted the details like a student. Not having to wear a mask also meant I could articulate the sources of relief clearly.

Recalling my reflection in the broken heart held in Mother Teresa’s hands, it feels like my compulsion to get Kit Kat for the kids, the driver’s grace to me and my mitigating a daughter’s concerns have been written all along & sustained by LOVE. 🙏❤️

My late cat, Kitty Hawk, in deep thoughts.

Kitty Hawk resting on “Come be My Light,” a biography of Mother Teresa. (Christmas 2015)

Delightful Deepavali

24 Oct 2022

Over pineapple tarts from a Hindu parent, rempeyek fried by a Muslim friend, and store bought Massala Tea, two Chinese women who have known each other for more than 40 years caught up during this Deepavali public holiday.

Catching up over store bought massala tea, pineapple tarts & rempeyek on Deepavali / Diwali 2022.

They had met in their teens. One was from St Margaret’s Secondary School and the other from Crescent Girls’ School. And even when one left to study & work overseas for a number of years, there is no sense of separation or gaps in their communication. They speak in a mixture of English, Singlish & their home dialect like many Singaporean siblings do.

Today in Nepal, dogs are honoured in a festival called Kukur Tihar. Marigold flowers, incense, tikka & food are offered to street dogs & house dogs in many neighbourhoods to thank the canines. My dog, Shoya, earned his angel wings in 2014. But his qualities of loyalty and non-judgement for human frailties continue in his two cat buddies, Oliver & Emmanuel.

Flowers, incense & tikka blessings for shelter & community dogs prepared by Street Dog Care e.v. in Nepal on Kukur Tihar.

Emmanuel accepts his rudrasha necklace to mark this occasion, and Oliver struts about proudly in his choker from Shivapuri Hills.

Emmanuel & Oliver spotting rudraksha seeds to mark Kukur Tihar.

May I take this chance to wish all sentient beings a delightful Deepavali regardless of the forms we take and the differences in our cultural & spiritual heritage. May all enlightened gestures made today multiply manifold, so that Light may come through us in a continuous flow. 🙏🪔

“I thought she said Kukur Tuna.” – Oliver

Mustangi Magic

20-10-22

In 2011, at the Annapurna Bookshop by Lake Phewa in Pokara, Ron pointed out a book sitting on the top shelf to me & I bought it.

“Horses Like Lightning,” by Sienna Craig documented an American veterinarian’s journey & spiritual growth as she cared for horses in Mustang.

The making of a Juniper smoke offering by local Mustangi people to complete each animal treatment struck a chord in me. I think that was the specific moment that sealed my understanding of medicines & healing having a spiritual dimension.

When we got back to Kathmandu, I couldn’t put the book down. Each night by the window of Hotel Harati in Thamel I would read the words slowly, dreading the time when I would arrive at the last page. I also started wondering what Juniper incense smell like since it was mentioned frequently in the book.

Finally at Boudha Stupa, I came face to face with Juniper in its raw & incense powder form. When lit, it released a scent that was both foreign and yet strangely familiar to me.

The aroma of Juniper incense permeates the air at Boudha Stupa at all times of the day.

While some find Juniper incense smoke dense & yeasty smelling, I find it comforting. It always reminds me of forest & yogurt. (Ikr, I’m never far from food. 😄)

It’s been 10 years since my fascination with Juniper started. Last month my friend, Sharonne and her husband, Khorn, visited Nepal to begin her 60th birthday celebration.

My friend of 40 years, Sharonne, & her spouse, Khorn, kickstarting her Super Sixty Birthday celebration in Nepal.

In the midst of visiting sacred sites and shelter & street animals of the Himalayas, the couple found time to replenish my Juniper incense supply from the same shop facing the Stupa.

Sharonne & Khorn arrived in Nepal on new moon of the 9th Lunar Month and brought much needed medical supplies for street and shelter dogs.

Moving onto higher grounds, Sharonne picked a sprig of Juniper from a tree that grew in the temple compound of Muktinath in Mustang, a faraway location that is difficult for me to reach but has benevolently decided to visit me. 🙏

The temple where the sprig of Juniper berries came from. (Muktinath, Mustang)

“I got us some wild flowers from this monastery! Breathtakingly beautiful views. I could sit here all day breathing it all in!” says my friend of 40 years as she approaches her superb 60th year. ❤️😊

In a few days’ time the Juniper’s green will go, but her history of having travelled from Mustang at 3800m above sea level, and flying 3800km to reach Singapore will always remain. 🙏

World Animal Day

4 Oct 2022

Today is the Feast Day of St Francis of Assisi. He was known for living in peace with all beings, including animals and birds. So when ecologists in 1989 deciding on a date celebrate animal lives, 4 Oct was a natural choice.

This morning as I was wondering what would be a good picture to carry aspirations for peace for all beings, a friend sent me this picture from Nepal.

Peaceful Dog contemplating the world from an ancient window in Bakhtapur in Nepal on 4 Oct 2022. Photo courtesy of Sharonne Tan.

She & her husband had arrived last night in Kathmandu, from Lumbini, the birthplace of Buddha.

And this morning she had to step out of their guest house just in time to snap a picture of a dog contemplating the world from his/ her window in the ancient city of Bhaktapur.

Underneath the canine’s intricately carved window and against the terracotta brickworks, was “PEACEFUL.” 🙏

May this precious shot taken on such an auspicious day & timing bestow peace on all animals and humans past and present.

The photographer of “Peaceful Dog” with her own dog, Luna, at the Terrace of Elephant in Cambodia. Luna passed on this July. She was buried in their garden at home and had prayers chanted to facilitate her soul’s ascension. 🙏

May we keep wishing and visualising Peace no matter what circumstances we find ourselves in, for our own benefit, and for the benefit of all sentient beings.

Happy World Animal Day!

Connecting with Earth & Sky

22 Sep 2022

https://www.nationalgallery.sg/sites/default/files/NG-Ever-Present-04.jpg

According to aboriginal artist, Michael Riley, the feather suggests a spiritual connection between the earth & the sky.

This weekend if you’re looking for a chance to ground so that you can reach the sky, please consider dropping by the National Gallery for “Ever Present: First Peoples Art of Australia,” exhibition, ending in 3 days’ time.

I rarely rave about art because firstly I’m not trained, and secondly I lack the words to do justice to works that speak to our subconscious.

But the experience at this exhibition that I visited a few weeks’ back keeps coming back to me. It was my first time consciously seeing pigments made from earth and minerals painted on barks of eucalyptus. I inhaled the paintings as it were, even as I stood & stared at the mesmerising dots, crosses, and tiny strokes that appeared so childlike and so sublime at the same time.

The embroidery by the Lanna tribe of Chiangmai resembles the Aboriginal artwork behind me in colour choices & order.

I was entranced by the Rainbow Serpent which I only read about in books rendered in floor to ceiling dimension at the exhibition. It was swimming energetically before our eyes even as it appeared to be still.

Seeing the Rainbow Serpent that I read about in books in this dimension with El is another special memory that will abide with me for a long time.

I regretted not taking a picture of the aboriginal dancer drawn in white pigment against black background. His calves were strong & elegant. And I could see the energy emanating from his stomping legs & turning torso while he held a spear and and a shield.

In these turbulent times I hope this exhibition will go to many places and bless lots of people with its ancestral wisdom and life affirming power.

Seeing pigments made from earth & minerals painted on eucalyptus barks for the first time in my life turns this gallery space into a shrine.

Only in Sg

15-9-22

My brother and I had Halal food at Fortune Centre in Middle Road today. The proprietress of Syam’s Corner served her padang dishes with delight. She was pleased when we asked her for sambal belachan.

After lunch I dropped by a vegetarian dry goods shop owned by a lady from Yunnan. There are 26 tribes in the place she was born. She climbed up a chair to bring down cups of sweet & sour vermicelli to show me the difference between that and mala noodles.

Carrying papadums, pumpkin crackers and cup noodles, we went to greet the deities at the Hindu temple and the Buddhist temple outside Fortune Centre.

We had been talking about this outing since 2020 but kept postponing it because of safe distancing measures.

Today we finally made it.

I couldn’t resist having pictures taken with Hanuman and Garuda no matter how many times I had seen them. They are ageless, but I’m not.

A soft spoken lady from Thailand approached us to take a picture of her and her mom. We had a great time helping them to strike a pose.

In a short span of a few hours and within a few hundred square meters, we interacted with people from different cultures and faiths and experienced architecture that went back hundreds of years.

And only after 50 plus years I noticed that my brother enjoys padang food, just like the way our father did.

Bearing with Impermanence

6 Sep 2022

Today I finally had a meal with my yoga teacher at Mangiamo, my favourite Italian cafe on Albert Street.

10 years ago when shoulder stands or stretches got tough, visualising the amazing thin crust pizza I would be having after class kept me going.

The healing hospitality of Eileen Sng matches the passion with which her husband puts into making food.

Life is a series of adjustments and realignments. Hair turning silver, joints & organs becoming uncooperative, and relationships changing for various reasons are part of being alive.

But memories of shared moments of kindness and love remain. In fact they gain significance through the passage of time.

Knowing that the person who helped me with my shoulder stand 10 years ago is still available for a meal becomes extra precious.

Knowing that the chef and his wife who bore punishing kitchen heat to feed us what we need, are still in charge is reassuring.

In the end, it is love that makes everything worthwhile, and impermanence bearable.

After a series of twists and turns, stagnant energy leaves my body.

Passports

8-8-22 (National Day Eve)

“You have trekked so far, Bhaktaprasad, and today you may have understood you can travel far and not arrive, and not travel at all, but still arrive.” –

– Adventures of a Nepali Frog by Kanak Mani Dixit

In secondary 3, I was the only student in my Art Club ECA who couldn’t go on a school trip to Baguio, Philippines, because my dad couldn’t cough up the $300 required to pay for the already subsidised trip.

I don’t recall feeling very sad about it but I think it must have hurt my dad. Years later he would tell me lacking the means to let us take overseas trips like some parents did, made him feel inadequate as a provider.

With my dad at Westlake Chinese Restuarant when I was in my 30s.

In my early 20s as a working adult, when I made my first ever overseas call from Europe to Singapore, it was my dad who picked up the call. He reminded me not to spend money on souvenirs but to keep my luggage light so that I could move easily and take in all the sights.

Recently the news of ICA rejecting passport photos of smiling applicants prompted me to check my old passports.

And among the expired little red books, there was my dad’s passport. He was 58 years old when he made that passport to visit Malaysia with my mom and her siblings. I am now his age as I get ready to renew my passport for the 5th time.

In his passport photo, my dad wore a blue & white batik shirt which I bought with my first teaching paycheck. Tucked within the passport’s protective covers were currencies that he had collected from years back. A wish to visit these countries one day perhaps?

The fear of being called a frog in the well may have prompted some of us to look to travelling to broaden the mind. But travelling without knowledge or due preparation can also reinforce pre-existing prejudices.

So I hope my dad knows that even though he couldn’t afford to take us overseas when we were kids, his lifelong interest in books, music, plants, cultures and documentaries would influence my future travelling choices which money cannot buy.

And today as we look to Singapore’s 57th birthday celebration tomorrow, and enjoy the travelling ease which our red passport brings, may we also honour the foremothers, forefathers and the ones who have made sacrifices and remained island bound, so that others can go farther. 🙏

A $3 per head day trip to local places of interest organised by the Residents’ Committee was all it took to make my late dad happy. My mom continues to delight in her temple jaunts and visits to Chinatown on a regular basis.

Walking Our Paths

1 August 2022

Two days back I lit a butter lamp at the temple for my Christian friend to honour his departed soul. Light is a universal medium of blessing at all stages of life. It does not discriminate between life or death, happy or sad.

Dedicating the butter lamp before the lighting.

My late friend was a man of few words and not given to outward display of emotions.

Some years back, he quietly fed the cat taking refuge under his Volkswagen at his condo. He named him Winfred, and defended him when the neighbour accused the feline of spoiling the paintwork of his Mercedes Benz.

My friend took Winfred to the vet when he was ill, sheltered him when he needed a place to recover, and buried him in a safe place when he passed away so that the orange tabby would never have to stray.

Yesterday I made a donation in my late friend’s name to an animal shelter. He who made us sandwiches on long days at work and allowed me to ransack his work station for snacks & meji biscuits would have approved of money going to the dogs & cats too.

After helping the shelter, the thought of a specific animal rescuer who would appreciate some help came to mind. But I too have a budget to stick by.

Late last night I received a text message from a Catholic friend. She did not know of our Christian friend’s passing nor my wish to help the Muslim lady who works two jobs to help animals.

“Don’t know why but I suddenly had a feeling that I urgently need to transfer some money to you to help some animal,” she texted.

And the sum that my Catholic friend wanted to give away was the exact amount that the Muslim rescuer needed to cover some of the care expenses for an aging dog.

Aging dog can no longer walk. The factory compound where she used to seek refuge under heavy vehicles is not safe for her. Hence her feeder decided to put her in boarding where she can be cared for till the end of her natural life span.

So today on Chokhor Duchen which marks the day when Buddha gave his first teaching, I want to share magic, generosity, kindness and trust in people around us and the ones who have gone before us.

Regardless of our heritage, may our life’s choices put us on the path of compassion & wisdom, for our benefit and the benefit of all sentient beings. 🙏

Planting Dignity

12 July 2022 (eve before full moon)

Yesterday I stood next to a yam plant that was taller than me. I couldn’t resist having a picture taken with it. I wanted to hug the leaves or put my face against the cool green, but they looked very expensive. 😄

Yam plant being next to me at the nursery. (July 2020)

My first Tree friend was the Acacia Tree in the carpark of my primary school.

Years later I told a bunch of secondary one boys that I regretted not saying goodbye to the tree after my PSLE. Over the weekend, one of the boys would climb over the neighbour’s fence to pick a handful of the crescent shaped leaves that the Acacia is well known for and bring them to school for me. ❤️

Trees are teachers of silence & acceptance. Nowhere is this lesson more hauntingly demonstrated than during forest fires, storms, landslides and wars. Whether standing stoically in flames and molten lava, or facing screaming hurricanes with silent defiance, trees accept their fates.

Yet, as immovable as they are, and as vulnerable as they look, many trees have also outlived bombings & disasters.

Coming to 120 years old, this Banyan Tree has witnessed military affairs, human histories and bombings. (Kinmen Island Sept 2019)

The banyan tree in my grandmother’s city of birth is coming to 120 years old. It has witnessed thousands of soldiers passing through and experienced explosions brought about by ideological differences.

Banyan Tree from my grandmother’s birthplace as seen from the window of a tea house that has been relocated.

Once I thanked the trees growing on a 700 year old ruins in Morocco for providing shade for the cats and their elderly feeder. A wind rose after that, sending the canopy in waves of circular motion. The movements then stopped abruptly, as if I had imagined the whole encounter.

As a kid with physical mobility problems, I was always anxious of not being fast enough and being left behind. Fire drills depressed me as I was always one of the last to make it to the reporting venue. As an adult, the “Run, Hide, Tell,” response offers me little assurance in the event of a terrorist encounter.

But trees show me that accepting the inescapable enables me to plant my feet firmly on the ground, and cultivate a dignified response that can only grow from the soil of no choice.