Finding Our Path

26 May 2021 (Vesak Day)

This is the main entrance to the Boudha Stupa. Yesterday my friends at Street Dog Care posted this picture. Road repair works have begun.

Since 2011, I’ve stood at this entrance to the Boudha Stupa 8 times. I’m so grateful to have visited Nepal at every chance I could before this pandemic.

I’ve stood at this entrance 8 times in my life.

Each time when I looked at the Stupa for the first time, I would feel tears welling at my heart and making their way up my eyes.

At the same time in the midst of the surrounding chaotic traffic & commercial activities, I would also experience a profound quiet that was unshakeable.

“You saw your mind,” my Taiwanese friend who lives at Boudha told me when I narrated my encounter to her.

She went on to elaborate that when the mind is unfettered by judgements or desires, it is clear and free.

So perhaps I had tears in my eyes because at the Stupa entrance I caught a glimpse of how my mind could have been were it not shackled onto fixed patterns of ignorance & pride.

My first stupa dog, Sam, on a full moon evening before the lockdown.

These days I think I learn to suffer less because I try to watch my mind before thoughts become words and deeds.

While the well trodden path to Boudha Stupa is being repaired on this auspicious day of enlightenment, may I take this opportunity to wish my friends and all sentient beings divine guidance as they forge their own paths to liberation. 🌈🙏🐾

Freedom Speech

24 May 2021 (2 days to Vesak Day)

The conch produces the sound OM”, believed to be the sound of creation and from which all sounds emanated.

One day the subject of half-siblings and step-siblings came up towards the end of English lesson.

As I wrote down the words’ definitions and the circumstances that gave rise to them on the white board, some students looked really interested.

Even when the bell had sounded for the 14-year-olds to leave my class, a handful took their time to pack their bags and lingered on.

I have been very fortunate to witness such purity of intent among children many times. They give me strength to face the truth.

“Teacher, I have a half-sister,”
“I have step brothers,”
“My father remarried,”
“My mom don’t allow me to see my dad,” and so on came tumbling out of the kids’ mouths as they gathered at my desk in the morning hush.

I was momentarily stunned. For right there in the safety of my homeroom, it felt like some dead weights were being lifted off young shoulders as each kid revealed what they were not supposed to talk about in public.

One boy whose mom left their family when he was in primary school looked almost teary when I taught him the words to say without having to lie about his mom’s absence at school functions. I could tell lying was destroying his young soul.

Words create realities.

I think the kids that day left the room with new words and new found camaraderie to face the new normal brought about by changes in family dynamics.

We do children a great disservice when we project our adult disappointments with life on them, and by denying them a voice we trap them further in our web of lies.

May we have the courage to face our truth so that others can live freely.

Release

20 May 2021

Yesterday at the animal shelter, an elderly Persian cat started purring loudly and turning her forehead to meet mine each time I managed to snip off a knot of matted fur that had twirled and tightened around her like barnacles growing on whales.

I hope Divina will still be around in my next visit. I hope to give her a bath and dry her properly.

Shelter trips are sobering reminders of abandonment, broken promises and vulnerabilities.

Shelter people are stretched to their limits to compensate the animals for the suffering in the hands of fellow humans.

This morning I came across a picture of a doctor holding a patient to comfort him. I thought of my encounter with the ageing Persian whom I had named Divina.

Different species, same loneliness.

Different contexts, same gestures.

Different professions, similar offerings.

At the risk of sounding melodramatic, cutting off the knots for the shelter cat felt akin to making a liberation gesture for me.

For some time as I leant against the plastic shelf with Divina purring loudly, I had an idea of the elation divers must have felt when they cut off fishing lines that have trapped marine lives.

Divina leaning towards me each time I snipped off a knot of matted fur from her body.

And today I learnt that some communities celebrated the birth of Buddha yesterday.

May we be free to offer relief to others with all the skillsets we have and in whatever situations we come across. 🌈🙏🐾

Keeper of Sweetness & Promiser of Colours.

18 May 2021

I like looking at metallic containers that are used to hold hard candies.

I bought this tin of candy from Daiso recently.

But it’s only recently after buying one from Daiso that I understood my compulsion to study and touch candy tins.

Sakuma hard candies from Daiso store. It has over 100 years history.

These keepers of sweetness remind me of my late maternal grandmother. In my childhood, she was my constant supplier of Morinaga candy in round tins.

The Morinaga candy tin of my childhood looked very much like this.
Picture Source: https://articulo.mercadolibre.com.ar

Each evening when she returned from work at the ABC Brewery, I would help myself to her bag and search for my present.

Once in my childish impatience to shut the tin, I closed the cover on my fingers instead. Blood gushed and dripped freely where metal met flesh.

The sharp edge of the candy tin cover was an excellent teacher in patience & alignment. Picture Source: https://articulo.mercadolibre.com.ar/

My grandma was traumatised, while I was more concerned about having blood on my candy.

After that blood letting episode, it would be a long time before I would see my beloved candies again.

My maternal grandparents raised 10 children on their meagre combined incomes. Money was always short, but they never made their children or grandchildren feel poor.

I remember one night when I was in primary 2, my grandma told me she would buy me a new box of colour pencils on her way home from work the next day.

Those words would become her last words to me. That night she woke up in the middle of sleep with a terrible headache, and passed on of stroke. She was only 50 years old.

Although I only knew my maternal grandma for just a few years, she is present in every candy & colour that I see these days.

Candies and Colours are what childhood is made of. My maternal grandma tried to give me both.

So I believe regardless of our financial constraints or length of life span, every gesture performed in the spirit of love & generosity continues to live on, long after the giver is gone.

Vaccination Day

11 May 2021

“Door gifts for you!” The officer announced cheerfully after he had confirmed that I was fit to be discharged.

Vaccination issues dredge up old memories of regret & guilt about missing the one that was supposed to protect me from contracting childhood poliomyelitis.

In Singapore, many who are fit for vaccination are showing up for the jab to protect themselves and keep others from covid-19. I felt had to do my part too.

After reading up and consulting with my doctor on whether there were risks for post-polio patients, I registered to receive the vaccination.

I took a cab to the Yuhua Community Club for my first dose of vaccine.

I had lots of practice with medical appointments since I was a kid. As an adult, making them alone when I still can, is good training for old age.

Of course I had the good sense to arrange for someone to come & get me if I needed help in going home after the vaccination.

However, despite all that preparation, I still approached the vaccination venue with some trepidation.

As I trudged along the corridor leading to the registration counter, a man appeared in the opposite direction. He was wiping his face as he walked towards me.

And his built and gait looked strangely familiar. Is that my youngest uncle walking towards me? Or am I so stressed that I’m hallucinating about having a family member meet me at the centre?

Better not make a fool of myself, and go around calling strangers ‘uncle,’ I warned, even as I wished hopefully to be right. 😆

As it turned out, that man was indeed my youngest uncle! He was there to collect his safe entry token.

He was very surprised to see me in his neighbourhood. He thought I would have opted to go somewhere closer to my home for the vaccination.

My uncle showing the wood block carvings which he keeps carefully after digitization rendered them obsolete.

My uncle walked with me to the vaccination registration counter and my unease disappeared as we chatted.

Before seeing me off at the waiting area, he gave my shoulder a reassuring squeeze.

Looking back I now realised I am never alone. And the reason why someone’s built and gait could exude such strong vibes of familiarity and peace even at a distance, and even before I could ascertain his identity, was that they reminded me of my late grandfather, my uncle’s dad. ♥️

An encounter such as this is never merely just a coincidence for me. I hope by sharing this episode, those who have to do things on their own for whatever reason, will never feel alone.

Someone’s always watching over us. 🙏😊

Second flowering of orchids on Vaccination Day (eve of new moon).

Portals to Calm

29 Apr 2021

May this film on the significance of rituals which I’m happy to be part of energise you and enhance your equanimity.

In my experience, rituals are series of deliberate steps undertaken to invoke an internal order through external actions.

They can be personal & non-sectarian such as making tea or lighting a candle in the privacy of our home. They can also be public & religious, involving the community in specific locations.

When performed with focus & intention, a simple act can become a ritual.

In the absence of full participation with our senses, a ritual becomes a routine.

Conversation with El on rituals at a temple celebration.

So central to all rituals I believe is the mindful enacting of gestures to invoke a sense of order & strength within to manage the turbulence without.

When a child has a chaotic day at school and coming home to the sight of a loving adult making tea and arranging biscuits on a plate for him for the thousandth time since he started kindergarten may have a calming effect on him. And maybe then he will have the courage to share his thoughts.

Unfortunately more and more of us are just too knackered to initiate any kind of ritual with our children. Some of us abdicate our role as ritual masters in our kids’ life to therapists, counsellors or even strangers.

The adult working world can be unforgiving& unpredictable. So having some place to be still or set the table even if it’s just to eat a simple meal of porridge, may provide a moment of peace to our battered being.

In short, rituals sustain us and lend us the motivation to give whatever we’re trying to accomplish another shot.

The pandemic has generated wave upon wave of unease & difficulties. Distrust among nations and between citizens and their governments prevail even with the availability of vaccines.

While pharmaceutical developments race to keep up with the virus, and authorities we count on are understandably none the wiser, we need to look within for that sense of balance.

And the cure that keeps us from the panic that causes harm to self and others, might just be invoked through the discovery of new healing gestures or the enacting of old restorative.

A handcrafted incense holder in the shape of a dragon used by a priest. Dragons are associated with water and change.

Cars & Ganesha

20-04-2021

My second younger brother, Andrew, and I at Boudha Stupa in 2011.

Of all birthday observations, a sibling’s birthday is unique. Our brother or sister has been with us long before any BFFs, BFs, GFs, partners or spouses appear.

When I was younger, I saw my siblings through my parents’ eyes. Their disappointments or happiness in my brothers became mine.

Aging helps me to individuate, separate and differentiate, so that these days if I have any opinions or views on anyone, they are strictly mine. And as they’re ONLY my views from a limited mind, there’s no need to hold on to them so tightly.

Because my brother was not academically inclined, his childhood fascination with cars and all things mechanical & electronic were seen as purposeless and a waste of time.

With our dad before heading to Italy for his training under Ferrari.

Fortunately, cars have always been his first true love, so his dream of caring for cars in a workshop which he can be proud of didn’t die.

Giving thanks at the temple during lunar new year.

About 10 years ago, I bought a Ganesha figurine made of resin from the Tribuhavan Airport in Nepal.

It was love at first sight for my car mechanic brother when I placed the pot bellied elephant deity in his palm.

My brother with Ganesha in bronze at Hotel Harati in Kathmandu.

6 months after that, my brother would accompany me to carry medicines to street animals in Nepal. He also brought along his resin Ganesha on our trip to give thanks.

We stayed at Hotel Harati in Kathmandu where he met Ganesha in bronze, and Park Village in Budanilkhanta where we stopped to say hello to Ganesha in clay each morning.

My brother as a 5 year old in one of the few family outings my dad had the mood & means to take us.

Today this little brother who needed me to take him to Jurong Bird Park for a primary school art contest is now in his late 40s.

Fixing cars has opened up numerous new paths not only for my brother, but for others as well.

And on his birthday today, I wish him good health and peace to keep cars safe on the road.

May his reverence for Ganesha also make him wise and keep him grounded, even as he deals with speed & energy everyday. 🙏🌈🐾

My brother selecting incense holders in a little shop in Thamel, Kathmandu. He is wearing a G2000 jacket I got him when he headed to Italy years ago for his car apprenticeship. Although this is an old photo, the vibes it gives out are always fresh.

Holding Space

22 March 2021

These boys have become men, holding jobs and being responsible sons and partners.

In my teaching days working with male students, I regularly got complaints from mothers that their sons often kept them in the dark about issues that they were facing.

Whether it was about learning challenges or relationships, these boys seem unable to share their burdens with those who loved them most.

Some parents wondered if there were special communication or questioning techniques they could use to help their sons share with ease.

But the reality for me was, boys probably told me stuff more easily because I did not have emotional attachment to them. This emotional distance allowed me to let them talk without offering solutions, or feeling the urge to “set things right,” for them.

To grow into women of means & balance, lovely girls like these need to be given safe spaces to sort out whatever growing pains they encounter.

See, if you are a boy or a girl, and, having a tough time in school, the last thing you need after telling someone at home about your trouble is having to manage their upset reactions. And even worse than a parent going to school to “solve your problem,” is being told that you should have done this or that, or that the problem you speak about is all in your head.

I’ve learnt not to offer unsolicited advice when a young person speaks to me.

Red winged starling perching on my hand. (18 March 2021)

Often times, like birds needing a temporary perch to stand and rest their tired wings, people just need a safe space to bring up what’s hurting them. That space enable them to call up all the hidden demons and laid them out in the light to rest. And we know Light brings clarity and healing.

So as our offspring, nieces and nephews enter Term 2 of the school year, and the older ones take on internships and industrial attachments or even a first job, may we have the wisdom and discipline to hold safe spaces at home for them to articulate the difficulties they meet outside, so that all the aspirations of benefits for themselves and others may take flight.

Red-winged Starling taking flight to reveal the fire under the wings.

Learning from a Flower the Discipline for Joy

5 March 2021

The pot of desert rose plant I brought home on 1st February is in full bloom.

A month ago, to manage my expectations, the seller told me that desert rose plants are hardy but their flowering depend on other factors.

I assured her I would be grateful if it survived my care. The flowering would be a bonus. I paid her $18, carried the pot and made the short walk home.

Except for the knowledge from google , I have little experience in desert rose care.

So even when it started budding around mid-February, I didn’t dare expect too much for fear of disappointment.

And bud by bud, the desert rose came.

The whole experience has given me the chance to face my fear of disappointments and living things dying on me.

While searching for a quote to honour this plant’s teaching, I came across catholic writer, Henri Nouwen’s writing on the discipline of being surprised by joy.

After reading his thoughts I realised in bracing myself for disappointments and suffering, I have forgotten about joy! And being joyful is as much an effort as being able to handle pain.

I shall close this post with Nouwen’s quote in full to do justice to the man’s profundity and the desert rose’s inspirations within a month of being with me.

“Learn the discipline of being surprised not by suffering but by joy. As we grow old . . . there is suffering ahead of us, immense suffering, a suffering that will continue to tempt us to think that we have chosen the wrong road. . . . But don’t be surprised by pain. Be surprised by joy, be surprised by the little flower that shows its beauty in the midst of a barren desert, and be surprised by the immense healing power that keeps bursting forth like springs of fresh water from the depth of our pain.” – Henry Nouwen

Doorways to Wholeness

24 Feb 2021 (Day 13 of CNY)

“May your paths be smooth,” says the chinese blessing. These red temple door panels are more than 100 years old. My brother and I used to take turns to lock up the doors when the temple visiting hours ended.

I love taking pictures with doors and gates. They are symbols of invitation and transition.

Many years ago in a cab turning into Clementi Ave 6 on my way to work, I spotted a homeless dog lingering at the back gate of Park West Condominium.

I saw much longing in the way the animal tilted his/her head at the slip gate, as if hoping for someone to open it to let him/her in. I might be projecting my own need to belong on the dog. But till this day I continue to send prayers of comfort to the dog whenever my cab exits at Ave 6.

For as long as I remember, I rarely enter or exit a doorway mindlessly. In my childhood, like many kids, I could sense energy at doorways. I was a fairly sociable kid, but there were instances I felt great unease & reluctance to enter the homes of perfectly fine people.

“May you meet Happiness when you exit this door,” the chinese blessing says.

The only doorways I could enter with ease then were the ones leading into temples. I took and still take great delight in lifting one leg after another to cross over the raised temple threshold （门槛）that separates the secular world from the spiritual world.

Perhaps in sacred spaces of worship at some temples, churches and mosques, I feel complete as I am.

A photograph that captures a moment between 20 Chinese New Years for my young cousin and I. She has taken on the duty of photographing CNY moments ever since she acquired her own camera.

To be able to stand at the temple doors of my childhood year after year for 50 plus years, and feel its centering energy calling back all the fragments of my life is a blessing I’ve never taken for granted.

So may I take this chance to wish all friends and sentient beings, their very own special doors to wholeness & healing. 🙏

This picture of my cousin and I is very special to me because the photographer is my brother’s son. When my nephew was born, my sister-in-law invited me to name their child. That was 23 years ago. And this is the very door where my brother (the photographer’s dad) and I played at in our childhood. 😊