My friend brought her adopted dog to my home for Chinese New Year visit today.
Dog approves of cny cake.
Dog girl looking at Windhorse Prayer Flags for the first time in her life. (4th Day of CNY, 28 Jan 2020)
At only 8 month old and of a slight built, Nicki Ning-en strutted about my home, sniffed around and made sonorous barks at the cats. Her 20 black nails and kohl-lined eyes gave her a touch of gothic vibes.
Black nails are cool especially when you don’t have to paint them.
Oliver the Cat hid behind the washing machine, wondering when this lanky girl would leave. Behind the glass door of the cat room, plump Hakim sat cross-pawed, daring Niki Ning-en to come closer.
Nicki Ning-en raising her head to look at Avalokithesvera and Ganesha.
Satisfied with her exploration, the girl dog lay down contentedly on the floor by the altar while raising her head briefly to look up at Avalokithesvara (Compassion) and Ganesha (Wisdom).
She had also chosen to relax on the same spot where Shoya, my dog, transited into Light in 5 years ago.
I smiled at the way she seemed so at ease resting on Shoya’s space.
Perhaps being born on an industrial site, losing her own mother, taken to the pound and living so close to death had given this dog an extra ability to sense peace.
As I gave Nicki Ning-en her Chinese New Year red packet, I wished her good health and a long life to accompany her human mommy for a long time.🌈🐾
Today being a high holiday, I thought it’s good to raise a new set of windhorse prayer flags. They are called lungta in Tibetan & originated in the shamanic cultures of east asia.
Each coloured flag representing each of the 5 elements has a horse and prayer inscriptions printed on it.
Blue for the sky, white for air, red for fire, yellow for earth and green for water.
One of the beliefs regarding the purpose of windhorse flags agrees with my practice. And it is that as the prayer flags flutter in the wind, all the auspicious words printed on them are carried by the windhorse energy towards all sentient beings in all directions.
I started raising these prayer flags in hope of blessing & protecting homeless dogs & cats living in the industrial areas near my home.
Later on I started dedicating prayers of safety to their human feeders as well.
On the recent reunion dinner evening, an elderly feeder was busily cooking for “her” factory dogs when I dropped by her home to hand her a small donation.
Her home was beautifully decorated to welcome the Year of the Rat. This dog feeder has a husband, grown up kids and grandkids. She thinks cooking to feed the factory dogs is as important as cooking the reunion dinner for her family.
Her dedication renewed my interest in prayer flags.
There are also slaughter houses near my home. It is my intention that the consciousness of each duck, each chicken, each pig, each goat, each lamb each cow and each animal being that is killed be free from terror as the windhorse guides it towards an auspicious beginning.
This is paper offering for horses belonging to the gods. I am very intrigued by the printing and the fact that horses have high status across cultures.
And may the windhorse prayers also lead us to act kindly, wisely and calmly as we learn to placate the flu elements without causing further harm to ourselves and to all sentient beings.
Each lunar new year for as long as I can remember, I have to go & see two friends.
With a trusted childhood friend whose fierce appearance dispels all impurities.
When I was young, these friends didn’t ask about my school results.
When my lack of mobility kept me from childhood games, I often leant on one of them or sat at their foot while others in the courtyard played.
When I entered my 20s, they didn’t care if I had a boyfriend.
When I got older, they were not bothered that I was unmarried and living with cats.
The silent support of my childhood. I often sat at the foot of this temple guardian diety or lean on him. (25 January 2020)
Over the years as my hair turns grey, their magnificence gains significance even while the panels they were painted on are splintering at the bottom.
This morning as I gushed about this pair of painted temple door gods to my cousin’s lovely wife as she indulged me and graciously took our pictures, a temple visitor’s interest was piqued.
The man took out his cell phone and started photographing my ancient childhood friends. I smiled gratefully.
My childhood exposure to temple door deities has caused me to feel immediately at home in any temple anywhere in the world as soon as I meet their temple guardians at their door.
Running my fingers over the patterns on their robes and the outlines of their accessories, I felt their total acceptance of me.
My relatives are often amused and slightly puzzled by my almost compulsive need to take pictures with these silent sentinels of an old temple, year after year.
Besides honouring the pair that had watched me grow up and now growing old, these yearly pictures with them is perhaps my response to impermanence.
For how could I assume that this temple will always be here, or even if I will get to visit it next lunar new year?
And because temple drawings are usually too massive and too complex to be easily replicated or casually replaced, the temple guardians have also become visual markers of my private journeys, just like two trusty childhood friends who are there for you, regardless of what you have become.
For the first time as the youngsters gathered around me to pose with my oldest childhood friend, I wished that they may also find the silent support and grounding they need in their life’s journeys.
With my oldest childhood companion and the younger generation for the first time. (25 Jan 2020)
Thank you dear friends near & far, for your auspicious intentions on my birthday.
I brought your words and your hugs with me to the temple just now, and placed them on the altar of compassion.
There I lit a butter lamp for animals, so that they may receive the kindness I have received from you. 🙏🐾
May I take this chance to wish all my friends good health and clear mind, so that words of blessings and gestures of love may continue to pour forth from you wherever you go.
Last Saturday a birthday dinner hosted by my former student, Jonathan Leong, for his wife and his father included me in the celebration as well.
This was my first sighting of a birthday cake with 3 names – Joseph (Jon’s father), Jeneen (Jon’s wife) and Miss Ong (Jon’s teacher, me).
A very special birthday cake with no wastage.
I’ve known Jon since he was in his teens, taught him Macbeth, cheered for him when he entered Singapore Idol, and celebrated his wedding to Jeneen.
And I’m forever indebted to Jon’s mom, Mary and dad Joseph, for giving rescued dog, Toto, a loving home, when he had no place to go.
A celebration of Aquarians, made possible by Jonathan Leong. (18 Jan 2020)
The familial touch at the peranakan dinner setting was further enhanced by Jon’s secret invitation of his parents’ childhood friends and their offspring.
So there we were, parents, grandparents, fathers, mothers, husbands, wives, baby and teacher from different dialect groups, faiths and ages gathered as a family to give thanks for the smooth passing of the year and for the year ahead.
A family of parents, grandparents, husbands, wives, baby & teacher. (18 Jan 2020)
As expected of a chinese peranakan eating place, conversations happened at random over the aromas of lemon grass, blue ginger, spices & chillies.
Like a typical matriarch, Jon’s mom’s, favourite command was, “Eat more!” as she piled food on the plates of those seated closest to her.
The 11 month old baby guest from across the table beamed like a little Buddha each time I made eye contact with him or waved at his chubby presence. Baby guest’s grandpa told us proudly that anyone can hold his grandson who accepts all cuddles without a fuss.
I felt very welcomed & included although I was the only unmarried person at the dining table, with no real blood ties to the two Catholic families.
And Jon’s birthday gift to me was an artwork of the Dalai Lama rendered in black ink by a long time friend of his.
The Dalai Lama rendered in ink by a long time friend of Jon, who makes a living as an artist. Dalai Lama’s teachings help me not to be afraid of suffering but to learn to reduce it through compassion & wisdom.
Seated next to me, Jon’s wife, Jeneen spoke softly as she recounted her animal sightings on an African safari trip last year. Her eyes lit up when she recalled the magical moments of holding her breath as an elephant approached them.
Despite lots of dining noise and waiters moving around us, I could hear every word she was saying, as if I too was in Africa. There were the leopard, the twin lions, the impalas, the giraffes, the lioness who failed to catch her prey, and the heavy African clouds that seemed to cocoon them in an entirely different universe.
She beamed lovingly as she showed me pictures of Jon cuddling the cat that visited them each morning when they were staying at a vineyard, and another of her husband touching nose with a donkey.
When the evening ended, I felt very hopeful on behalf of animals, that someone as gentle and delicate looking as Jeneen would travel a long way from Singapore, take multiple domestic flights and obey all the safari rules just so they can see animals living free.
And this feeling of hope that youngsters after me are caring towards animals also counts as birthday gift to me. ♥️
Jeneen and I, two Aquarian women posing with the gorgeous Chinese New Year centre piece of Buddha’s Hand Plant （佛手） in the lobby of True Blue Peranakan Restaurant. (18 Jan 2020)
All beings grow at their own pace, even if they belong to the same species or family.
It takes compassion, not intelligence, to recognise the different needs and growth pace, and wisdom to see slowness and fastness both have their roles to play.
Just trying to survive. I picked this particular radish bec it looked battered and scarred. It might make a gd salad but given its appearance, it is likely to end up in the trash when new stock arrives. So I bought it the way someone might adopt an ugly dog. Only I am not cultivated enough to commit such a great act of kindness yet. So I start with radish.
While I celebrate the proliferation of leaves on one radish, I am even more grateful to the other for just trying to survive.
This afternoon, the pet supplies arrived. There were kibbles, canned food and pee pads for the feline mob I share my home with.
If I’m not home, the goods will be discreetly stacked outside my door till I return.
Today I was home. So I gave the delivery boy a small tip by placing some money in a red packet that has 4 gold characters 一帆顺风 on it. They wish the recipient great ease in all undertakings .
As I handed the non-Chinese boy the red packet I took care to explain to him what the characters on it meant. Then I wished him smooth travel and safe driving wherever he goes in the course of his job.
He was very touched by the gesture. Delivery staff often brave crazy traffic, & tight deadlines, not to mention bearing the brunt of clients’ anger when the delivery goes wrong.
My nephews and their mom at the temple on Chinese New Year in 2018.
I have 2 nephews. In a few years’ time they’ll enter the workforce.
I make it a point to address service staff respectfully and look them in the eye. Xiao Wang (小汪）of Pan Pacific taught me how to book ferry tickets to Kinmen. (June 2019)
I believe when I’m kind to other people’s sons and daughters, my nephews will meet kind people too. So I needn’t worry about who they will meet, because everyone has the potential to be kind.
Celebrating Chinese New Year in 2018 with a group of daughters.
But there was this Chinese magazine that I wanted badly, but couldn’t get hold of or subscribe to because of my weak command of the Chinese Language.
This elusive magazine is known as 金门文艺 or Kinmen Literature. It is a collection of mostly Kinmen inspired literary and art pieces published bi-annually by people who are determined to promote & preserve Kinmen’s intangible heritage.
I like the artistic layout of its cover page, and the feel of its paper quality. I cherish the chance to have a glimpse of the Kinmen spirit through the poems, essays, artworks, photographs and even advertisements of Gaoliang wine that appear in the magazine.
But most of all, I’m in love with Kinmen Literature because Kinmen is where my grandma was born.
The map of Kinmen Island resembles a puppy making a play bow. Olli the cat of course has to assert his feline stake, so that dogs will know who really owns the world.
As a Chinese woman who makes a living teaching English Language and Literature, I felt that an annual subscription of Kinmen Literature would let me stay connected to Kinmen while honoring the team behind this labour of love.
Kinmen Island lies in the sea between mainland China and Taiwan. It is 20 mins away by ferry from Xiamen and less than an hour by flight from the Song Shan Military Airport in Taipei. There are no direct flights from Singapore to Kinmen Island. The song lyrics of “漂洋过海来看你” (Crossing oceans & seas to see you) by Jonathan Li was deeply felt as I made those crossings for my grandma.
Last September in 2019, on the day of our flight from Kinmen to Taiwan for our return flight to Singapore, I saw copies of the 67th edition of Kinmen Literature at the Kinmen Airport reading lounge.
Should I just “take” one copy to Sg as a souvenir? Who knows when will I be able to return to Kinmen again?
And after all there was no cashier counter where I could make payment for the copy even if I had wanted to, the thief in me reasoned.
Furthermore there was no sign saying that the magazine had to be returned, the justification for dishonesty strengthened.
But then again there was no information anywhere that stated the magazine was free either. A sliver of light broke through my muddled mind.
Pre-boarding, my thoughts continued to oscillate between keeping the magazine which was actually stealing, and letting it go.
Finally at the last moment, I decided to return it to the shelves where I found it.
But not before taking many many shots of the copy next to my walking cane as if the magazine was a person.😊
Kinmen Literature & my walking cane overlooking the airport runway of Kinmen Airport before I put the magazine back in the reading lounge.
In mid-November 2019, a couple of months after I triumphed over the temptation of taking what’s not mine in Kinmen, an Facebook friend from Taiwan asked if we could meet up. She was in Singapore for a very short visit.
Miao Ling (陈妙玲)had read my Facebook posts about my grandma’s childhood and my journeys in Kinmen for her. Even though Miao Ling knew I wasn’t proficient in Chinese and might not even have time to meet her, she decided to bring a copy of the latest edition of Kinmen Literature for me!♥️
Holding the 68th publication of Kinmen Literature hand delivered from Taiwan to Singapore for me, courtesy of editorial member, Ms Chen Miao Ling. She had read my subscription enquiries.
At the Nanyang Cafe in Chinatown Point on 16 Nov 2019, I received my very own copy of the literary magazine from Ms Chen Miao Ling, who was also on the editorial team of the magazine that I coveted.
Miao Ling (陈妙玲) took the trouble to bring a copy of Kinmen Literature to Sg for me without even knowing if she had the time to meet up with me. 🙏
Miao Ling indulged me as I gushed in a mixture of English, Chinese and Minan Dialect about my encounters with Kinmen Literature, including the attempt to steal one from the Kinmen Airport.
And so there we were, two modern day Kinmen daughters exchanging information of our family histories.
As we spoke, we felt the fears & tears of daughters before us in olden times, many as young as 7 or 9 years old, forced to leave their homes to be raised by near strangers because of changes in their family fortunes brought on by politics & wars.
Before we parted, Miao Ling & I took some pictures together. A Filipino lady from across our table helped us to record this meet up that started a century ago, in 1914, the birth year of my grandma.
It’s now 2020. Last week I learnt that my grandma’s love for Kinmen and my visits have found their way to Kinmen Daily (金門日報) and Indonesian- Chinese Daily (印華日報) through Miao Ling’s writing.
Miao Ling’s essay in the Indonesian-Chinese Daily dated 6 Jan 2020. To the writer and those proficient in the Chinese Language, please accept my apology in advance if my interpretation does not do justice to Miao Ling’s words. 🙏
In her essay, Miao Ling likened the 108 chimes of the temple bell in her childhood to my grandma’s constant pining for her birthplace.
She communicated poignantly my attempts to sync with Kinmen and my grandma’s 3 phrases of attachment to her birthplace that she recited like a mantra throughout her life.
Miao Ling’s publication in the newspaper has enabled an unknown 7-year-old girl, born more than a 100 years ago in Kinmen, to return to the embrace of her birthplace.
Love can really cross oceans and seas, transcend histories and navigate around all kinds of logistical & language difficulties.
Our duty is perhaps not to be disheartened or feel silly, and talk ourselves out of loving what matters to us.
It had been on my mind since last December to contribute to the veterinary bills of a shelter dog called Dahua.
Because of my other long term financial commitments in animal relief, I wasn’t sure if I have enough to make a small once off contribution to her vet bills that have amounted to slightly more than 5k.
On Boxing Day 2019, this 9-year-old girl dog survived a surgery to remove a growth in her spleen. The next day she had two cardiac arrests and she was gone.
Dahua was the sole survivor of dog poisoning that killed her mom & siblings. Although much loved by her rescuers and shelter caregivers who took her on adoption drives, she never got adopted.
The shelter has been posting appeals for donation to cover Dahua’s vet bills. I wanted to help but was unsure if I should since I only have a part-time income.
So I made a wish as my birthday was near. I wished that whatever cash gifts I get, they will go to animal relief work.
But I would have to give first.
Yet this morning at the ATM, I hesitated. I wanted to transfer $200 to the shelter for Dahua, but ended up giving $130 instead, for fear of not having enough for myself.
After that I did some grocery shopping, making sure I bought just what I would eat. I did however, buy 4 red Chinese radish to welcome Spring. 😄
Ollie welcomes the red chinese radish.
On my walk home from the supermarket, I stopped by the park bench for a rest & saw a mynah picking up twigs to build her nest. The bird got me thinking of the pregnant mouse found by May Sarton, still holding in her paws bits of straws for her unfinished nest as she lay dead from ingesting poison laid out by farmers. My thoughts went naturally to Dahua again as she had been poisoned when she was a puppy.
What humans casually consider as pest or strays have very real life & death struggles of their own.
As I was sitting there thinking about these animals’ often unseen and hard lives, I received a message from my bank:
“So-and-so would like to send you SGD 200.00. Use the passcode provided by him/her to accept this amount at…”
Is this a hoax?
I texted my friend whose name was on the bank’s message for confirmation.
Indeed the SGD200.00 was from her. She wanted me to use the money in any way I deemed fit for animals.
I was teary. Less than 2 hours ago, I was lingering at the ATM, wondering if somebody like me with reduced earnings, and aging, was still in the position to donate $200 to help an animal.
“God told me to send the money,” my friend texted. She had been very busy at work. But divine intervention had led her to make the money transfer at the period when I was asking if my giving would deplete me.
My friend and I are from different spiritual backgrounds. She’s been questioning God’s existence and the teachings of her religious community. She felt that her role in the giving episode was a gentle reminder that her faith hasn’t been in vain and her relationship with the invisible God is real.
And I learnt now faith is not really about the absence of doubts nor the presence of unquestioned obedience. Or feeling capable and being in-charge.
Faith for me is perhaps the constant practice of testing & forging ahead, guided by the practice of kindness to the most vulnerable, despite the doubts & uncertainties at the back of my mind.
Dahua trusted her caregivers, and in faith they had put her through the surgery.
The dog’s physical life may have ended on 27 December 2019. But less than a month later on 13 Jan 2020, she has become the portal through which two friends felt the giving hands of the Divine.
It stays in the background to allow others to shine.
May the full moon tonight bless our mind with wisdom, so that we can see beyond our emotions, and learn to rely on the comforting presence of darkness to recover, for our benefit and for the benefit of others.
Light to help us befriend not dispel Darkness, so that we can heal.
Lisa Ong 