A bouquet from a student whom I taught 36 years ago arrived today. (11 Sep 2023)
In my childhood, I spent hours pottering among plants. I stuck the wooden stems of paper flowers into soil and believed they would become real flowers if I could just focus. I sometimes got scolded for removing offering decorations from the altar to put them in dirt. 😄
This crochet sunflower is as precious as the real ones. (Teachers’ Day gift 2023)
In my youth, flowers assured me that I was accepted & appreciated.
These lovely girls & their sunflower gift. (NYGH, 2004)
Now in old age, flowers remind me to always carry the Sun in my heart, & challenge me to bloom my best regardless of how much time that’s left.
Holding the Sun in my Heart.
Yesterday all the yellows, reds & golds descended in my home through the kindness of people I’ve known for a long long time.
So I felt very compelled to dress up for the flowers and take some pictures to honour them and their givers.
Flowers make us smile & teach us to hold everything lightly.
May the blessings of flowers open our heart & mind, for our good and the good of others. 😊🙏
The Tibetan Book of Living & Dying by Sogyal Rinpoche.
My first copy of “The Tibetan Book of Living & Dying,” came from Borders the Bookshop at Wheelock Place. I bought it out of curiosity.
I had what I called “reader’s block,” and gave the book away in 2012. My inability or refusal to accept then that life ends despite our best efforts probably kept me from receiving the guidance in the book.
Over the years, the passing of 10 cats and 1 dog in my care, and the gruesome deaths of cherished community cats from dog attacks have eroded my state of denial. Death is just round the corner.
And with Emmanuel & Oliver’s deteriorating health, I’ll be witnessing death for the 11th & 12th time.
They are my longest living cats. I need to be better prepared for their passing so as to do justice to their companionship of 18 years.
So last week I ordered a copy of “The Tibetan Book of Living & Dying,” after assessing my receptivity to it via Libby APP.
Today as First Tutee and Granduncle came to see Oliver and pray over him, the book also arrived. 🙏❤️😊
First Tutee sees Oliver as his First Cat. They met in 2017.
So every thing has its timing. What we cannot understand or refuse to understand will make sense at some point. And friends who live in our thoughts will appear at the right time when needed.
And I cannot ask for a better alignment of intention, needs and spiritual aid like the one I had today. 🙏🪔
No trip to Little India is ever complete without a meal at Madras New Woodlands for us.
Even though we can visit more upmarket eateries now, going back to our old haunt for a meal always feels like a treat. This is the place that fed & welcome us in those days when we didn’t have much.
The restaurant began around the time we started university, which was 40 years ago. One top of its flavourful meals, its charges are easy on the pocket for students & young working adults. And regardless of the size of your order, you can be assured of utmost hospitality.
Over the years, and despite the market fluctuations, their menu and prices have remained fairly stable. And their hospitality always makes me feel like a much loved patron despite me being of a minority race among their patrons.
Pre-covid days, the restaurant made its muruku (dhal chips) and other snacks fresh. Their oil for frying was top quality. I used to haul packets of my beloved murukus home as if they were gold.
After we washed down our wholesome dosas & pooris with massala tea, it was time to check out Apollo Shopping Centre for sweets, oils, fragrances, retro time pieces & Handloom of India for pure cotton kurtis (short top) and kurtas (long top).
After lunch, we stopped by this little shop to try on their Rajasthani cotton prints. My friend Sharonne got to charge her phone here too.
Ever so cheerful & obliging, the husband & wife proprietors of Handloom spared no effort in showing us their wide collection of pure cotton tops that bore one of a kind chikankari embroidery from Lucknow.
To some, the embroidery may just be sewing. But vibrating among the delicate threads that form patterns of leaves, flowers & paisleys are aspirations for beauty & better lives.
When I bought my first cotton kurta from this couple, their daughter was doing her primary school homework among their merchandise. Now their little girl has become a teacher and is married.
As the nearly full moon appeared in the bright evening sky, freshly strung thanksgiving jasmine garlands by Prasad the Florist were our final purchase to wrap up an awesome day.
Sharonne took this shot of the Moon above me. (27-7-23) Thanksgiving jasmine garlands strung by Prasad the Florist was our final purchase in Little India to wrap up an awesome day.
“It’s ok, I can manage,” was my habitual response when I thought the young man at the Uniqlo fitting room was asking if I needed a stool to sit on while trying on clothes. I have seen my share of sales staff being bullied by the self-entitled, so I try my best not to add on to their burden.
Furthermore, years of trying to blend in with the able bodied for fear of being considered not good enough at school and at work have made me apologetic about my handicap and to overcompensate for it.
Truth be known, at the heart of all these efforts to cope with my physical limitations to the point of ignoring them, is the deep dread of rejection & abandonment.
You know how it is. In the wild, animals, including the new borns, are left to die if they show signs of physical weakness or injury. An injured animal will also try his best to mask his pains for as long as possible to avoid evoking the predatory instincts of the others.
And so it is with humans. Be it a limp or a lisp, the fear of mockery looms, especially when you are a child, and haven’t figured out how to navigate among the normals.
Compassion & Wisdom are ofen the first casualties when resources are limited and survival hangs on a thread.
So I learnt at a very young age, not to seek special treatment if I wanted to be included.
But the Uniqlo Angel would not back off. He took one look at my leg & cane, and decided that I would need a cubicle for the disabled to try on my clothes.
Striding confidently ahead, he lifted a grey curtain to reveal a brightly lit cubicle large enough to accommodate a wheel chair, and equipped with handrails and cushioned seat for the physically challenged.
And the way he secured the curtain you would have thought he invented the cubicle himself.
“Take your time,” said the lanky youth who saw through my carefully constructed armour of lies as he looked me in the eye. ❤️😄
I saw my first real waterfall in 2006 when I was in Japan. These days, a manmade waterfall like the one at Bird Paradise is as good as the real deal for me. (8 May 2023) ❤️
When I need to go out I pick my timing carefully to avoid crowds and transport fee hikes.
On the streets there are cyclists and people on mobility aid to be mindful of.
In the malls especially during school holidays, there is the exhuberance of unsupervised children at play that can trip me.
Increasingingly I find myself making detours, sometimes huge ones, to avoid shoppers clustering on narrow thoroughfares.
So an errand that may take 30minutes can easily turn into a 2 hour undertaking.
The obstacles I face on my outings force me to look ahead when I walk, and to stand still in the presence of running children or sudden movements by others.
I now understand why in my youth I felt strongly about regulating whale & dolphin watching tourism. Whales have been known to alter their migratory routes or delay their feeding in order to avoid boats.
As I age every departure from the familiarity of my flat & neighbourhood is thus a bit of an expedition. I don’t have the bandwidth to conquer mountains or check out the ocean because the landscape in me is a perpetual mystery of unpredictability.
National Gallery, Singapore 2020.
The outcome of negotiating external changes in my environment together with my physical limitations has strangely put me in a constant state of the beginner’s mind.
Every outing I can make it on my own whether alone or with friends is always my first, and could also be my last. It is perhaps one of the reasons why I’m always taking pictures. 😊
Panda, the shelter dog’s affection is boundless. (June 2023)
On the full moon that just passed, a former student made a trip to Nepal. She offered to help me deliver non-prescriptive medicated animal supplies to friends who are taking care of street & shelter animals there.
The soft spoken child in her impossibly white school uniform writing compo in my class some 20 years back is now venturing to rugged Nepal & wants to help me bring stuff?!
When we took this picture, I didn’t know one of these young girls would one day help me deliver animal relief supplies to street and shelter animals in Nepal. Wound washes & medicated shampoos to relieve animal suffering, improve their physical conditions and increase their chances of getting fed. For animals, beauty is never skin deep because it makes a difference between getting fed or getting kicked. 🙏
I didn’t jump at her offer at first. But I was touched that someone with little exposure to street animals & shelter work would want to take on this extra weight on her personal trip.
I was also unsure if I could assemble the needful items in time for her trip. There was a medical emergency in my family at that time.
Looking back I’m so glad she persisted in wanting to perform this courier duty.
As it turned out, she not only fulfilled all she needed to do in Nepal, but also took time off to climb the “epic” hill (cos her taxi couldn’t climb) and reached the village where the dog shelter was located. (I did this only once in 2018 with help).
My former student is all grown up now and wears many hats, among which is that of peacemaker to keep dogs from squabbling.
“I’ve never been so dirty and happy,” she texted me, referring to the muddy paw prints on her attire and person, as the dogs inundated her with cuddles.
Receiving the Baptism of Mud from shelter dog, Dorjie, to remind us to remain grounded no matter what our positions are.
Her enthusiasm in helping & subsequent initiative to seek out the shelter to hang out with the dogs & relief workers are compassion & wisdom at work. In return she felt honoured and blessed.
Art of Giving: Simple food lovingly cooked and respectfully given.
Today people living in the Southern Hemisphere observe the Winter Solstice. Yesterday those in the Northern Hempishere marked the Summer Solstice. It depends on our geographical positions.
But there’s a position which we all can claim regardless of who we are and where we’re born. And it is the position of power to render help. This power begins in the heart and radiates from the mind.
I believe it is this power that keeps people with limited resources going, and in turn inspire others to get involved.
Street Dog Care e.v. treats street dogs and shelters the ones that need a safe place to recover before returning to the community. It is supported by donation and run mostly by local staff & volunteers.
So I like to take this Solstice celebration to wish all of us the power to bring relief regardless of our positions, so that collectively we become a source of delight to all sentient beings.
Happy Solstice to you, and all sentient beings in the North, South, East & West. 🙏
Late lunch on a rainy afternoon at Spize yesterday.
Yesterday it rained nearly all day.
Rain would pour in through the kitchen window of our first flat in Prince Charles Square during the 70’s.
The plastic sheets hastily attached to the window grille with clothes pegs were useless against the slashing rain.
After the rain came the mopping. I resented living in a flat that leaked, ignorant of the fact that all the flats in that low SES neighbourhood of ours were subjected to the elements.
I guessed I wouldn’t have felt so ashamed of our living conditions had it not been for that one time when my well meaning school teacher and her husband decided to pay our home a visit.
I had managed to put off her attempts to visit my home a few times. And guess what I was doing on their surprise visit? Yes, mopping the floor!
But this time it included mopping up milk which my then baby brother had spilled when his milk bottle came crashing down.
My young teacher and her handsome husband stood in awkward silence as I picked up the glass shards and went about clearing the mess.
Looking back the rain that day had washed away my pride, and the broken milk bottle had shattered whatever illusions of economic wellness I was trying to project.
I think after that, my teacher learnt to respect her students’ boundaries. I learnt to tell the truth if I disagree with or lack anything, so that I don’t have to make up excuses.
My friend’s orange kitty, Sage, is selective about who gets to hang out with her, for how close and for how long.
My efforts to promote animal welfare do not impress her one bit.
My repertoire of animal knowledge is worth less a kibble to her.
But, if I know my place, Sage doesn’t mind eating a store bought treat from my hand. This means not trying to touch her when she’s trying to eat, or assuming that just because I have the means to buy things, I’m King.
Sage reminds me that I’m only a creature, just like her.
So whenever I need a dose of reality & liberation from egoistic tendencies, I make an appointment with Sage.
I was sitting on one of the benches facing the Boudha Stupa when 3 old persons with rickety gait came by.
El and I have sat like these many times whenever we stayed at Boudha. I often rest on one of these benches after one circumambulation around the Boudha Stupa while waiting for Ron & El to make many more rounds. (Dec 2019)
I made room on the bench for them. They bowed lightly, and took their places while adjusting their belongings amongst themselves.
The grandpa spoke to me in a language I didn’t understand. He had a fedora on and was bundled up in winter clothing. The two grandmas smiled. I smiled back at their weather beaten faces and gentle eyes.
Lacking the vocabularly to ask about another’s nationalities, beliefs, marital status or occupations, our exchanges were reduced to gestures of smiling, bowing and nodding. That was truly a John Lennon’s “Imagine” moment for me.
One of the grandmas handed the grandpa a small packet which he raised towards the Stupa and then placed lightly against his own forehead. After that he took out a tiny piece of reddish looking substance from the little bag. It resembled blusher that had been chipped off from a make up receptacle.
He then broke the terra cotta red bit into tinier pieces with his fingers and placed a bit of which on the open palms of each grandmas.
Turning towards me, he offered the same thing. Seeing how reverently they treated the powder, I held out my palms too.
After that, as if they had rehearsed it many times, the three of them looked up at the Stupa, placed what was on their palms into their mouths and brought both palms together in prayer.
As I stared in wonderment at their synchronised actions, the grandpa turned to me. He puffed up his chest to indicate that the powder would make me strong like them.
For added effect, he also slapped his forehead & sniffled dramatically to show that it could keep head & respiratory troubles away.
Now, I have my reservations about taking unknown substances from strangers.
But the simplicity and earnestness of the 3 sages to share health & strength with me neutralised all misgivings.
The encounter was made all the more poignant when I realised how far we had travelled to share this moment of healing under the Stupa. The following year, travel restrictions of all kinds would make it hard for me to visit Nepal.
Boudha Stupa (2018)
Perhaps at the heart of all communicative intent, it is not eloquence, but kindness that causes the mind to open.
Lisa Ong 