Today I finally had a meal with my yoga teacher at Mangiamo, my favourite Italian cafe on Albert Street.
Erika, my yoga teacher, is nearing 70.
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.
My first shoulder stand in 2013.
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. My first shoulder stand. (2013)
“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?
Passport and notes
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.
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. 🙏
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.
Freedom is to lean my face against a tree and have no fear of contracting ANYTHING. (Japan 2006/7)
I asked a highly articulate 12-year-old in my tuition class where she had learnt to converse like that.
“Oh, this I will have to credit my dad…my dad speaks to me all the time,” the raven haired girl explained with a smile.
Whether she’s listening or not, the father reads aloud news and offers his views to his young daughter.
As a result, I have a student who not only answers questions very fluently, but also asks insightful questions and initiates new ideas in classroom exchanges.
Her wit & confidence may make her appear domineering, but she’s always the first to collate worksheets for others and ease new tuition mates to lesson routine.
Often in sundresses or tank tops and denims, she’s equally at ease in *shalwa kameez if tuition is preceded by a temple trip.
“Look, Ms Ong! This top used to belong to my great grandmother. My mom gave it to me. Can you imagine how tiny girls in those days were?” my little goddess opined, as she pointed to her richly coloured tunic that united 3 generations of women in her family.
The natural trend setter frequently carries her tuition homework in an NTUC jute grocery bag, and sometimes wears a pair of rugged denim shorts to contrast with a cardigan of lavender purple that sparkles with bits of sequins.
The little hair clip she uses to tame her obsidian locks looks way too tiny to do its job, but hey, it works!
Sunday tuition for her is also about sauntering down the row of shop houses with her dad to pick up Peranakan sweets and savoury dumplings before heading home.
Zooming with youth.
There’ll come a time when daughters and sons outgrow their need to be taken around and have their snacks paid for, but they’ll always need to hear from their dads no matter how old they get.
And even when some of our fathers can’t be with us, their words will continue to sustain us through shared moments and their personal belongings.
So here’s wishing a “Blessed & Delightful Fathers’ Day” to all Dads, Appas, Pappas, Pappis, Babbas and Otuo-sans for being present and accessible, especially in our growing years.
🙏May all parents be healthy and happy for your children’s sake, because they will mirror you whether you wish for it or not.
A picture taken outside a Hindu temple to honour the girl student who inspired this post.
shalwar kameez – ethnic clothing of knee length tunic and pants.
The crystal on my necklace sparkled with joy at the June Solstice offering of vegetarian spring rolls at our pre-solstice lunch at Whole Earth. (20 June 2022)
Yesterday we had pre-solstice vegetarian lunch at a place called Whole Earth, where some years back I had dinner to mark my 50th year on earth.
With the pandemic & politics forcing many food businesses including the iconic ones to go under, the ones that stay afloat have become symbols of hope.
In the midst of unrelenting changes, I feel a great sense of grounding in the old and the ornate.
The dragon calligraphy above us in birthday photos year after year at our favourite Hokkien restaurant, Beng Hiang, tells me that if a piece of painted paper can survive, so can I.
We never get tired of celebrating birthdays at Beng Hiang which has been serving Hokkien food for the past 40 years.
And last week at the TWG Tea Salon I enjoyed a tea spread which even the Queen & Paddington Bear would have approved. I sat by the window like I did in my 30s & relived my canefree days when the tea house used to be called Royal Copenhagen Tea Lounge.
At TWG for a tea spread specially chosen for me. (16 June 2020)🙏
Solstice in the Latin Language means the Sun stands still. May our observation of the solstices, equinoxes, and natural phenomenas help us create havens of stillness to mitigate feelings of fear caused by man-made madness.
May Light from the past give us the grounding needed to launch courageously into the unknown.
Solstice Sisters to welcome the blessings each changing season brings.
This morning while making a sage smoke offering, I looked up. A straight line of clouds had formed in the sky, as if extending the smoke from the scallop shell in my hand to the heavens.
My prayer this morning was to be free from past hurts and wrongs, that we have experienced since childhood, whether we deserve them or not, and whether we’re conscious of them or not.
Working closely with youth & young kids allow me to see that hang ups, if not managed wisely, can ruin relationships with ourselves & others.
Disappointments in warring parents can result in trust issues and constant craving for assurance.
Humiliations suffered in the classroom or family can lead to overcompensation at work, fixation for validations & hunger for vindications.
All these cravings and fixations drain us, while leading us to attach ourselves to entities, people & organisations that can cause us further damage.
So this morning at 4am, the cats meowed, the moon blasted her light on my face and together they forced me out of bed to play the Ganesha mantra to let Wisdom in. And I finally understood “forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us,” has such a centering effect on me because it’s an invitation to release my enemies.
The cloud extends beyond the picture frame, as if facilitating my intention to let my enemies go so that I no longer become prisoner of fear & pain.
A young girl from a dysfunctional family cut out a picture of a boat she found in a magazine and put it on the wall. During episodes of domestic violence, she would cope by imagining herself taking her younger brother with her and getting on that boat.
When she went down on her knees to scrub the kitchen floor, she imagined herself wiping the deck of her boat & making it shine.
This vision sustained her for many years, and kept her from developing self-destructive behaviour.
She would grow up, make something of herself & eventually owned a real boat!
This story has helped me in my dealings with young children, especially those from desperate circumstances when immediate escape was not possible.
I once gave a friendless young boy in a foster care facility a palm sized cat plush toy. It had travelled a long way from Finland to Singapore and got tossed about before it reached me, I told him. So whenever he felt lonely, he must remember to look at the toy to remind himself that he too would survive the hardship because there were people caring for him even if he couldn’t see them.
Findus to journey with a primary 5 boy in foster care facility.
The next day when we met, the boy told me he had hidden the cat plush toy inside his pillow case so that it would be safe.
He drew a card to help me remember him too. ❤️
The one needing protection had become the protector!
As I was searching for pictures to accompany this post, a former student texted to say she has been accepted into a summer programme at a reputable university. She thanked me for writing her the letter of recommendation.
The girl who once needed a simple letter to help her get started will be studying & writing scores of far more complex materials to bring about a better world for herself and others.
So here’s wishing all adults to use whatever limited means we have to create safe spaces for our youth, and wish them well, so that unlimited and unexpected good may come through.
When I see the potentials in these youths, I’m motivated to do what I can within my limits to facilitate their paths. (Primary 5 2021)
Yesterday (May 4) I saw a young man walking most inelegantly in the Botanics Gardens.
In each of his hand was a walking aid which wobbled with each step he took. Two persons were holding to the straps attached to a girdle around his waist to keep him from falling over.
He was probably in post-surgery mode or suffering from something. His walk didn’t look easy or comfortable. But boy, could he smile!
He didn’t care who was looking at his struggle or how ungainly he looked to others. With each clumsy step he took, he was radiating joy.
One of the members in his entourage must have noticed my awestruck state and smiled warmly back at me when our eyes met.
He was a vision. I’ve rarely seen a beautiful smile like his on many intact, clean limbed & youthful bodies.
Is this what it means to rise above all circumstances?
Lisa Ong 