The Chiku Tree is all decked up with red banner & pineapple hangings on Chinese New Year of the Snake. (29-1-25)
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.
Over the years my brother has picked up our dad’s interest in cultivating Desert Roses. When a plant needs healing, he hangs it on the Chiku Tree to let it rest.
Each season the Chiku Tree brings forth sweet & succulent fruits that feed birds and are given freely to whoever asks.
I arrived just in time to see my Mom picking up a Pineapple decoration which the Wind had sent her from the Chiku Tree. Pineapples are symbols of abundance among ethnic Chinese.
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! 😄🙏
With my Mom under the Chiku Tree on the first day of Chinese New Year.
Presenting Christmas log cake to Asher, the shelter cat at Metta Cats & Dogs Sanctuary. (22-12-24)
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.
Grateful that I didn’t hesitate to help animals & share my interest with students when I was able to move without a walking aid. (Nanyang Girls’ High School, 2004)
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.
My old flat at Blk 3 Teban Gardens Road (1999-2012)
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.
The boys who helped me complete my dog feeding mission told me they came from St Joseph’s Institution.
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.
View from my current flat. (Sunrise on 10-12-24)
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?” 🙏
Since that Christmas Eve encounter, and aided by friends, my animal helping work has extended beyond Singapore. (Rocky & Lakshmi, Nepal 2024) “Miss Ong, what are you doing here?” Asked the Angels loud & clear. (Boudha Stupa 2024)
This morning between sleep & wakefulness, I thought I heard my cat, Emmanuel meowing, for his breakfast.
My cat, Emmanuel, lived up to 18 years old. Emmanuel means “God is with Us.” This morning he meowed to me in a dream to remind of that. 😊
12 days before this Solstice, I was scheduled to fly back from Nepal. In an apartment in Thamel, I dreamt of my late father.
Our friend’s beloved Chimpu surveying the Thamel neighbourhood.
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.
Meal with my Dad at Westlake Restaurant in Farrer Road. He was an avid walker, wader & climber. Once he fell & was stranded for hours in a ditch before he was found unharmed.
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.
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. 🙏
Eat My Heart Out! My friend said next visit we’ll bring table mats and have a banquet of ordibary food.
Learning to walk with a leg brace and going outside on my own for the first time in 45 years. (28-9-24)
“To brace” can mean preparing oneself for challenges ahead. “Brace” as a noun refers to any supportive or strengthening device.
The leg braces (aka calipers) of my childhood were instruments of mental & physical torture.
At 7 years old with my brace on & standing next to our form teacher under the Acacia Tree. (1971)
During primary school days, besides bracing myself for taunts about my leg, there was also the nightly ritual of treating open wounds caused by skin chaffing against metal. Wondering what new injuries would befall me the next day was often my bedtime thoughts.
So at 15, when the doctor gave me permission to walk braceless, I was just so relieved. My dad wouldn’t need to keep spending money on brace & shoes. The abrasions could finally stop & I could bend my knee when seated. I might also be able blend in with the normal girls!
However, 45 years later and a month ago, I finally surrendered to hyperextended knee pains & had to start using a leg brace all over again.
From childhood torture to old age grace.
I was meant to take a week or two to practise walking with the clunky but necessary contraption. However pain forced me to make peace with my brace in 2 days.
On the 3rd day, I had my first trip out with what my yoga teacher described as, “the leg I never had.” A friend offered to send her driver to ease my journey to tuition, but I asked her to send me her prayers instead. ♥️
And true enough, her potent conjuring would raise a kind hearted grab driver to boost my confidence.
When we arrived, the superfit senior in his late 60s escorted me from car to curb and pavement with the elegance of a dancer & the calmness of a sage. 🙏
My current leg brace allows me to bend my knee when at rest, and reduces knee hyperextension. It has also made my handicap more visible.
Neighbours, students and sometimes even strangers looking at my brace will start telling me about their own pain struggles & even remedies. The corrective device that used to be an object of mockery has now become a conversation starter.
Voices soften & eyes turn gentle as we share notes on our collective pains.
Perhaps the brace that draws attention to my deformity has also given a concrete form to the hidden hurts of others, & the permission to speak what they think nobody will understand.
And in our shared narratives of coping without attributing blame or pity, the grace of acceptance follows. 🪔
My need for shoes with specific features to accommodate my limp gives me anxiety about finding replacement. Recently another act of grace was bestowed on me when El, a former student, gifted me this new pair that works too. (18-10-24)
5 stalks of Lotus on the table next to ours. Number 5 is associated with grace & completeness in old cultures.
Today at Tekka Market Food centre for lunch, my mind was on a cat undergoing spaying at the veterinary clinic even as we ate.
I had named her Pema when asked for a name during the booking procedure. “Pema” in Tibetan means Lotus Flower.
As I was wondering if Pema would be all right, a spritely silvered haired woman sat down at the table next to ours, after placing a bunch of lotuses on hers.
We began a conversation when my lunch mate included her in our beverage order.
When our orders came, she paid for all of us, praising my friend for his kindness.
After I told her about Pema’s surgery, she pointed at the 5 stalks of lotus flowers on her table, smiled & said, “See, all will be fine. Be at peace.” 😄
Later on in the afternoon, the vet called to say Pema’s surgery went well. She had woken up & while in cage rest, charmed everyone by extending her paw for high fives. 🙏
May the Harvest Full Moon grant us the clarity to see grace, abundance & completeness in ourselves so that we may see them in others.
Between the ages of 7 & 15, a big portion of my dad’s pay went to getting my surgical shoes & aluminium calipers.
I contracted childhood poliomyelitis when I was 10 months old. It left me with a permanent limp on my left leg.
Money was tight, but not once did he complain about how I was depleting resources.
When it was time to be in school & mix with clean limbed kids, my dad reminded me that because I walked differently from them, I would never be able to match their speed. Therefore I had to accept my slowness & not compare myself with others.
My Primary One class photo under the Acacia Tree where I spent many happy hours watching my friends play.
He was a pragmatic parent who knew kids at that age crave to belong. Recess time games could be cruel on a child with limited mobility.
When I got older, he also specified that I had to earn my keep by developing real skills & not expect others to foot my bills. I guess it was his clumsy way of telling me not to expect a man to take care of me.
I took my dad’s advice seriously and studied to become a teacher of English.
Although I didn’t like what my dad said at that time, his words have kept me from a lifetime of feeling sorry for myself.
Customised shoes & insoles to ease the strain of imbalance gait.
Although I couldn’t run around like my friends, I became a keen observor of body language by watching their playground antics, triumphs & defeats.
Although I can’t keep pace with many activities these days, there is no panic.
My dad might have known early on that regardless of what he could give me, I still had to face the world by myself & walk my own path.
So he taught me acceptance, which is the beginning to tenderness & freedom from attributing blame or seeking compensation.
In my world, there can never be too much sweetness or too many flowers.
I share two traits with Mexican painter, Frida Kahlo. We both contracted childhood polio and we both hated our affected legs. Frida covered her right leg by wearing long skirts, while I cover my left leg by wearing flowers.
Frida painted flowers so that they would not die. I wear flowers because they help me face life.
Whether to live just for a day or a week, Flowers remind me to bloom my best. Whether admired or mocked, Flowers say we gotta look fabulous!
Although her paintings were not exhibited, her energies were carried in the richness of her colours.
At the lotus shaped Art Science Museum, my 2 companions in their Sweet Seventies put me on a wheel chair and rolled me around to see Frida’s life. 😄🙏
My Sweet Seniors who may have seen it all, but everything is new to them.
May the thought of this senior Frida Wannabe and her friends chortling away while awashed in every Frida colour imaginable, bring a smile to bloom like a flower on you.
Around my 60th birthday I dreamt of my dad. In the dream he was working in a garden when I approached him. I showed him a dog I was cradling in my arms. He smiled approvingly.
Dad and me in my 30s at Westlake Restaurant in Farrer Rd.
In my childhood my dad taught me to pick up chicks, ducklings and rabbits gently so as not to hurt them. My maternal grandfather taught me to hold my fountain pen steadily & with just enough pressure when I’m writing to protect the nib.
With Shoya in early 2000s at our old home.
As I get older, these childhood experiences guide me to handle what I love, be it an object or a living being, with a light touch, so that I don’t spoil them & they don’t possess me.
In the dream it started to drizzle and the sky was darkening. I got into my dad’s truck so he could send me home. The dog in my arm started to whimper when the truck rumbled.
We decided it was best that I walked. As I started walking, dogs from all corners starting appearing & wagging their tails at me.
I turned around excitedly to look back at my dad to check if he had seen them too.
He nodded to show he did. Then he waved me onwards like he used to whenever I visited & it was time to leave. Only this time he wasn’t waving me towards the elevator, but onto a brightly lighted gravel path.
Oliver welcoming my first Himalayan singing bowl on 8 Dec 2018.
When the cats were here, I began my day with changing their water bowls & replenishing their kibbles. It was usually followed by incense & butter lamp lighting. In their final months, their medical needs directed my mantra recitations.
Each morning my cats, Oliver & Emmanuel led me towards the altar where Compassion represented by Avalokithesvara & Wisdom represented by Ganesha sit.
I’m still processing their absence. And now in their memory, I begin my day by paying attention to my heart & breath.
My Heart & My Breath. (24 October 2022)
When I started doing that, gifts that promoted physical, emotional & spiritual well being from female elders started coming my way. They were a yoga chair to strengthen my standing, a hand carried meditation cushion bought 10 years ago in Rishikesh, India to facilitate my sitting and a newly printed book from its UK author to aid my spiritual evolution.
Gifts of yoga chair & meditation cushion from Wise Women.
A few days before yesterday’s full moon, a younger friend gave me a book on words that console, and another on embracing impermanence.
On Vesak Day morning, as I listened to a mantra on compassion I received a call which allowed me to share my understanding of wounds, medicine, & mending.
Much like the teenage footballers whom I used to mentor who always entered the soccer field with their right foot, I’m a believer in starting the day right.
Yesterday I was beyond grateful to begin a high holiday by offering words of assurance and healing, just like how I used to offer sustenance & hugs to my cats & dog. ♥️😊
Starting right includes choosing to be kind instead of right.
Lisa Ong 