change of season

the carols are still blaring over the mall sound system. specifically, frosty is still having a ball of a time. but if you ask me, the times they are a changin'. and it's a wise storekeeper who maximizes his takings however he can.

signs of the times

the year's most successful gimmick, i say.

season's end 2

we miss:

the weather

the seasons

the colors

even the people

and the whole different mindset

but at least we can still have the turkey.

that was the last bird for the year.

season's end

that's it. christmas all packed up.

the year's up.

i must say that it feels like a lot has happened. 

the months are long even if the year is short.

david & goliath, m gladwell (2013)

better than blink or outliers, that's what i say. he has different points to make beyond the first couple chapters, although he tends to belabor them a bit and they tend to be semi-intuitive ideas actually, except he puts it all into a nicely readable package. and the section at the end, on limits of power, is truly interesting, and has much to say to modern politicians university teachers and gasping parents.

the list

what are your resolutions for the new year? S asks me. here they are, and remind me often:

• to de-clutter. aggressively and strategically and constantly, to about two-thirds of now.
• to write more. reflectively thoughtfully and vulnerably, because i meet so many who are beautiful.
• to live more simply. even if it means an attitude change more than anything more concrete, because my husband cherishes by giving.
• to give more. cheerfully courageously and generously.

i would like to glimpse more frequently the eternity God puts in the hearts of men.

2013

as thy days, so shall thy strength be.

- deut 33:25

it's been a long year learning again the old reflexes, and acquiring the ol' insiders' jargon, and earning anew the old legitimacy, as well as getting to be genuinely good at what i am paid to do. and i dare say, with God's extreme grace, that i have been able to do summat, although it sure has been painful.

it's been a long year waiting upon J and J's growth and maturation, and trusting upon divine love and provision which exceed mine, as well as hoping against broken hope. and i dare say God's mercies are new every morning, and he is generous with them, and he really answers prayer.

it's been a year of rediscovering my friend, of long walks and longer conversations, of argument and gentleness and hurt and kindnesses, of reaching our autumn. it's been short, this year, and i pray God makes it longer.

as my days, so my strength hath been. thank God.

$$

sold. the old iPhone.

dunno why it took us so long to figure out that an unused cellphone is unrealized cash.

season's greetings

he that spared not his own Son, but delivered him up for us all, how shall he not with him also freely give us all things?

- rom 8:32

may you know that God is unimaginably rich in his gifts of grace and gentleness, to broken undeserving ungrateful entitled brats. may you meet this God in your moments of greatest pain, and may you come to know that he carries your deepest sorrows. may you have a time, today, to remember the author of the days. may you rest in his incomprehensible goodness.

staycation

HOM and i are finally on leave. we spend lazy mornings on meandering walks and lazy afternoons taking naps and more walks and we have no clear objectives about how our time should pass. it is all very aimless and quaint and something we don't get to do with the usual weekends of errands and tasks and meetings and preparations for sunday. it's like my dream vacation, we tell each other. we get to have laid back days with just each other, PLUS we get the pleasure of our own bed at the end of it. also, we get free wi-fi.

immanuel

immanuel, which means, God with us.

- matt 1:23

it feels surreal and strangled in commercial crass. the sidewalks are so busy the song has lost all charm. nicotine-rich carcinogen-laden burnt tobacco fumes fill the air. i try and i fail, to summon any fondness for the season. and yet, on reflection, my greatest comfort is in knowing that God dwells with me, and the fount of his compassions fails not. the difficulty is reconciling my comfort with the calendar date.

comfort

just as i am, without one plea, but that thy blood was shed for me 

and that thou bidst me come to thee, o Lamb of God, i come - i come!

- charlotte elliott

he does not tell me, others bruise too

but he comes for me in my helpless estate

he does not tell me, they struggle

but he gently tends my dimly burning flame

- isaiah 42:3

christmas fatigue

there's something unreal about this year. the commercialism has finally reached its logical conclusion, perhaps. frosty has his song playing on a loop and tinsel gets in your face and they even sell real live seasonal must-have trees these days. IN THE TROPICS. in the steaming heat. with artificial snow. today i heard o come let us adore him played like a dirge of background noise at the clinic.

i'm not doing christmas this year, i tell HOM. let's keep things simple. no tree. no gifts. maybe a turkey. but only if it goes on sale. because i do feel that this year we have successfully squeezed the last vestiges of meaning out of the celebration of the birth of Christ. 

thank God for the Incarnation. thank God for the incomprehensible exchange of his son's life for mine. thank God for the absolute security of knowing that nothing separates me from his love. thank God for the freedom and excitement of living in advent. 

but christmas is another story. fuhgedaboudit.

remembering

his compassions fail not. they are new every morning; great is Your faithfulness.

- lam. 3:23

our wedding hymn, 23 years ago now.

the most beautiful and comforting lesson has been to learn that we do not draw down on His supply of mercies, nor do we exhaust the stream of His favor. his compassions they fail not, and yet are renewed every morning. He keeps not a list on which the ticks are marked off. thanks be to God.

2013 in retrospect

the heart that has not hoped does not learn to be kind

the hope that has not strived against hope does not learn to be gentle

the gentleness that has not met mercy does not learn brokenness

the soul that is not broken is not made whole

except a corn of wheat fall into the earth and dies it abideth alone;

- john 12:24

it's been a long year of lessons.

golden anniversary

beyond the lights

behind the pain

into the gentle endurance

and the years.

there is something special about hitting fifty.

unless the LORD builds the house, its builders labor in vain.

psalm 127:1

mix 'n' match

spotted on facebook, that new office water fountain:

economics 101:

1. cheap 2. quick 3. good

pick any 2

nihil novi sub sole 2

so just when there is nothing new under the sun we actually have a riot* in good ol' sunny singapore. to clarify, not the mob madness to purchase hello kitty toys or the minions happy meals, but an ugly bottle-throwing trauma-inducing possibly alcohol-laced version that activates ER departments in the vicinity and beyond.

to the multiple analyses by keyboard experts and others (some of which are truly perceptive) and official ministry-approved statements (many of which are saccharinely assuring), here's what i want to add:

it's time we were kinder to each other. 

and it could start with me.

*in little india, and on my wedding anniversary too, no less.

two seasons

the celebration of Advent is possible only to those who are troubled in soul, who know themselves to be poor and imperfect, and who look forward to something greater to come. ... it is enough to wait in humble fear until the Holy One himself comes down to us... 

- bonhoeffer

in other news, of course, there are the lights and sales and busy sidewalks of christmases past present and future.

ye olde thrift store

we discover this original-condition crammed-to-the-third-level-ceiling shop in the heart of the new yuppie hangouts. fascinating ware they have too, except that their prices are rather more contemporary than the vintage suggests. the best thing about the place, i tell HOM, is their rich deep timber strip floor just like my grandfather had in his shop back in the old country.

with thanks

for you will certainly carry out God's purpose, however you act, 

but it makes a difference to you whether you serve like Judas or like John.

- c.s. lewis, the problem of pain

not to seek to do mightily

but to do faithfully cheerfully

with humility

and with love.

thanksgiving 2013

pain, someone said, is a strange thing. 

when its time is past you cannot bring it back. 

the memory remains of a time

but not the sharp agony of the moment.

i am the gentler this year for being a little bit more broken.

c.s.lewis is right when he says,
humility, after the first shock, is a cheerful virtue.

eating potatoes

you can take the girl out of america, but the turkey sure got to her. also, giving thanks is good for the soul.

in other news, HOM and i have decided to host our own dinner with the bird the stuffing the green beans and the squashes and to make everybody reflect on their blessings while they eat at our table out in the tropics.

turkey logistics

what i want for christmas is a second oven.

a dishwasher would be nice too.

nihil novi sub sole

news that gets repeated over and over so you think it's the same but it's actually not:

• demonstrations in bangkok
• fiscal cliffs in the ol' united states
• strikes in france - although to be honest i haven't heard this in a bit
• faux pas by singapore against her neighbors - indonesia, malaysia - you name it

in local news, of course, we get, with commendable dependability:

• the haze
• the dengue outbreaks
• the psle the psle results and the psle scores
• the fare increases
• the rising indices
• the record coe's
• the road hogs and other unpleasantries, and
• the political one upsmanship

the only new thing is learning to say it in latin.

almost queen

stuff i hear so often it's starting to sound kosher:

• double confirm. as in, dear madam, thank you for your response. may i just double confirm that this is what you meant? shades of mrs 'arris in her dior gown, it looks like.
• iconic. as in, this is going to be an iconic development with several iconic architectural features including this iconic elevator. an expanded vocabulary might come in useful, that's wot i say.
• my girlfriend. particularly and peculiarly the favorite of enthusiastic sales women trying to talk you into a product you have little interest in. as in, my girlfriend says this is blah blah blah. perhaps she does, but i could care less.

from a woman's POV

there are men who open doors for women and allow them to go thru the door first. also, there are neanderthals.

a letter for J1

i think of all the blessings i would wish unto you, and this one brings together all that i would have for you: may God bless you and keep you. may God make his face shine upon you. may He be gracious unto you. may He lift his countenance upon you, and give you peace.

 

i think of all the hopes i have for you, and this is what i would have for you: may you be a man of honor and integrity. may you have holy wisdom and know real joy. may you live a generous life in the confidence of God's unfailing love. may you find your path and walk it well.

 

i think of all else i would say to you, as you turn twenty-one, and i would say just this: keep well, son. have a good day. stay safe. we love you.

reading list

currently,
1. oriental carpet design, p r j ford, 1989
2. the last eunuch of china, jia yinghua, 2009
3. a testament to freedom, bonhoeffer, 1995
4. ethics (and other liabilities), harry stein, 1982

a nice gebbeh would be really nice, i keep telling HOM.
as for that eunuch, i've got a bit stuck at the castration part. bloody difficult to move on from that point.

mommy's day out

i take a day off to go shopping. my grand haul comprises one pair of shoes (black, patent, work), four christmas baubles (two green and two washed-out red), and one hair brush.

i NEED amazon.com.

life tensions

exams are over for the year. my three loves, perhaps - clinics, teaching, assessment. and my great love - HOM. as he says, we are getting to the age where we can do more together, and can actually do it. the flip side, mayhaps, of finding a place i am comfortable with at work.

the selection interview 101

freshly coming off three days of back-to-back selection interviews, here are some observations:

• résumés these days are enervatingly impressive. woe betide thee if thou hast not the published research the community service and the multiple awards.
• what stands out then are your results. which is unfair and myopic of us, but when you are young and undifferentiated it helps to be outstanding.

what works?

• communicating really well is a definite advantage. however, rambling non-stop is not.
• genuine interest and involvement in the rest of life works too. boring is boring.
• grooming always works.

what does not work?

• putting your elementary school results on your c.v. only makes me question your good judgement.
• oiliness of word or manner. yeeeech.

what i say is, it isn't easy getting into a program these days. and looking at the program, even if you get in, it isn't easy getting out. there's something to be said about being a baby boomer.

spotted on the public bus

a white-haired balding man gives up his seat to a white-haired wrinkled woman, who is effusively and embarrassedly grateful.

chivalry, even to my middle age, still gets me. every time.

the perfect storm

someone designed it.

someone bought it.

someone wore it.

in public.

herein lies a perfectly ghastly combination poor taste and anosognosia.

morning cuppa

november is always the start of a slower time of year... when tinsels and lights make their appearance and home glows warmer and advent begins anew.

i like.

diwali in the 'hood

the pros: lovely smells in the air, of curries and oils and spices

the cons: plenty of little 'uns running about making loud noises

i'm getting too old for the cons.

random observations

• sales people should not smoke. not on active duty and especially not covertly. because, as everyone except the smoker is aware, tobacco smoke clings to you and assaults the people you descend upon subsequent to your little guilty puff. 
• on the subject of sales people - sales people should not hover. young female sales representatives risk presenting themselves like little girls lacking polish and middle aged sales representatives appear rude and desperate. unobtrusiveness from half a store away is about ideal.
• little children should not be let loose in public places. specifically, they do not belong in a restaurant until they have mastered sitting-quietly-in-place-in-public for the duration of time a sit-down meal takes. 

taking stock

if you think there's been a dearth of thought provoking thoughtfully penetrating posts lately you would be right. it occurs to me that becoming an active member of the economy (as opposed to simply injecting cash into it from time to time) has an adverse effect on the brain cells that make sharp sarcastic comments on life. so that, as much as i like what i do (sometimes i even use the other L word), i find myself mostly just ready for bed at the end of each workday, pithy witticisms and diary keeping be damned.

here's what this year has done to me:

• i no longer cook, not even instant noodles
• i no longer read story books. i miss j.d. robbs
• i no longer shop for fun, despite having more pocket money
• i no longer drive; i just get driven
• i walk a lot more when i am not driven
• i have been reminded again of the dignity and grace of the human spirit in the broken bodies and torn-apart lives it has been my privilege to meet in the course of work, which is a big reason i am thankful to do what i do

getting stuff 2

this is the shop that sells tiles.

if you ask me, it is vaguely reminiscent of a stock exchange.

the commodities floor perhaps?

getting stuff

we spend the day traversing balestier road hunting down the perfect tiles lights bathroom and kitchen implements. it is a soul-sapping endeavor. remind me why we engage interior designers, i murmur to HOM. so that he can take over from here, HOM murmurs back. if we manage this properly we only need to hassle one person, not the entire construction crew. we hope.

extreme makeover or, gutting the ol' place

there's bridezilla.

and, i begin to think, there's renozilla.

i hope we don't turn into the latter.

coming up: choosing a designer agreeing a price getting the permits knocking it down hacking it out starting it over and painting over it all. expensive expansive diversion.

stock-take

it's october!

• examination season soon
• then it's turkey season
• then it's christmas!
• and perhaps J1 will fly home for a quickie visit
• and we'll do some renovations to the old place
• and then it'll be the new year
• and i'll have been back at work an entire year.

gulp.

time-out

it's october!

HOM and i sneak off for a one night stand.

however it is over now and we are back in the thick of work and stuff and we are tired all over again. additionally i miss lunch today because of time pressures at work.

c'est la vie?

hymn of praise

you have come to mount zion and to the city of the living God... to an innumerable company of angels, to the general assembly and church of the firstborn... to God the judge... spirits of men made perfect... Jesus the mediator... the blood of sprinkling...

- heb 12:22-24

i come, broken and flawed, with fullest access and complete legitimacy.

i come to a place where joy is not a luxury but a song i get to sing.

i come, forgiven redeemed and perfected.

this song-bird with a broken wing.

drink with me

for friends and fellowship.

public loo

bugbears:

• public facilities with modern slate colored fittings and subdued lighting. give me bright white anytime. 
• women who cannot aim. i can't say about the men's room, but the women's is littered with loo paper. 
• white loo paper looks very conspicuous against a slate background.

what it says on the box

things are more touchy feely now. 

back in the day teachers' day was for kids' teachers.

but here's to the two men who taught me and lifted my eyes higher along the way - prof G and prof R.

nice brownie it was, next to the croissant.

heartland living

breezy evening. hawker center. fish head curry. seventh month. live getai music. as HOM says,  here is an entertainment package of pretty high caliber. what's not to like?

class reunion reflections

1. people who are nice when they are wet behind their ears generally remain nice into middle age.
2. doctors in different specialties tend to have distinct personalities. 
3. the most disparately diverse group of physicians are the family ones. we are nothing if not unpredictable.

class reunion

our class has a 25th-year-since-graduation gathering.

twenty-five is a good number of years to meet at, i think. enough have passed that many will attend. and enough have passed that most people have become nice, like good wine. but not so many that all talk is about what-has-been's; we are still busy catching up with the present. 

sweet.

season's change

empty chairs at empty tables.

perhaps parents feel the passage of seasons most who have college-aged offspring.

life together

here is HOM, putting a new skin onto my cellphone.

even though i know he thinks this is a frivolous indulgence unbecoming of a middle-aged woman.

on wings of memory

paris, 2008

once in a while, in the midst of the busyness of everyday doing and accomplishing, a wild young memory of another long-ago time breezes by and halts you in your steps and you are filled with a delicious mary poppins-mrs harris sense of exquisite wonder as you remember it.

sunday afternoon thoughts

for prayers answered... and denied

storms weathered... and all supplies

for pain and pleasure

for comfort in despair

for grace beyond measure

for calvary's love.

precious Lord, take my hand.

time to go

J1 leaves for college. cue words of wisdom containing the weight of years. i want to tell him to be good. to work hard. to stay safe. to be healthy. to keep in touch. to not be sad. to rejoice in the half full.

in the end, i tell him one thing. remember to say no, i say. when you know what is right and good, dare to say no to the other. go, my son. God goes with you.

mothering blues

J1 leaves for college in 3 days. i find myself becoming a jittery mass of nerves. have you done this? have you thought about that? have you settled? have you paid? yada yada? it suddenly strikes me, to my relief, that this is a reprise of my momzilla act from last summer when it was J2's turn.

it's okay err'body. Cool Mom will return next week. maybe. 

it strikes me that God gives me a past so i can deal better with the present.

payback

the problem with having a super long weekend is that at the end of it when the new workweek rolls along your body has forgotten how to respond appropriately to the alarm. 

oops

flea market!!

in basement 2!!!

on a public holiday!!!!

what J2 and i say is, it is underwhelming.

that is to say it kindly.

aspirations

i attend a talk about renaissance. baby boomers, the speaker says, are born between 1946 and 1964, are careful conscientious self-sacrificng and defined by their work. gen y, in contrast, are self-centered focused on self-fulfilment and defined by their relationships. the typical gen y wants to work part-time, limited hours and no weekends.

well, you know what? i am a gen y trapped in a baby boomer body.

storm

standing between the tower blocks looking onto the overcast skies

feeling the wind almost whip my face

feeling an almost nip in the usual balmy air

safely cocooned by steel and mortar

nice.

living in other climes has given me a fondness for not-so-good weather.

the cup overflows

in everything give thanks

- 1 thess 5:18

a sensible thanksgiving for mercies received

- john bunyan

so J1 leaves for college in a week. not one week, a voice reminds me, but nine months carved out of none. God is generous with his gentle rains even when i forget them so quickly. we are grateful, HOM and i.

machine error

it's been an energy sapping fortnight. work meetings exams and datelines add up to long days into late nights. why is the coffee cuppa getting smaller, i ask HOM. he checks. machine calibration is off, he mutters. the nespresso machine has been delivering mostly water recently.

how are you, my friend asks me today. i've been very tired, i say. my coffee machine fouled up. it's been one long caffeine withdrawal.

brain assault

dis is how my fren writes her notes to mi. do u 1 2 meet, she asks. it drives HOM n mi nuts. she doesn't write english, we decide. she writes alphabet. n sum no.

urban surprise

one of the things i love about the taiwanese is how they throw in unexpected little breathtaking galleries of photographs and paintings along their money-making corridors.

what it says on the shirt

disclaimer: this is a biased stereotypical profiling kind of one person non-randomized opinion.

the point is this. there is a difference.

you can tell.

love affair

taiwanese love their dogs, i've got to say.

summer hols

all four of us just hanging out together.

it's been a good break.

dinner out

hole in the wall. hokkien songs blaring.

rough and ready as they come.

heartland cooking.

mmmm.

dietary staple

the national dessert in taiwan must be watermelon wedges.

diff'r'nt strokes

so HOM and J1 go off to explore the city and get haircuts.

J2 and i stay in.

our ideal vacation, we realize, is a hotel staycation.

weather must-have

this must surely be the national accessory.

post-soulik

call it crass commercialism.

or rugged resilience.

or routine.

but life surely picks its old rhythm back up pretty quickly.

travel options

the thing about being the only people in our tour group is that we are pretty much on a private family vacation with someone to tell us where to go what to eat and what happens next. not to mention someone to buy us the tickets and tell us to go to the bathroom and check us into hotels. also to drive us everywhere.

not so profitable for the travel agency, but great for us. you can have your free-n-easy, i say. give me a guided, driven tour at mass travel prices and no one else who wants to travel at this time.

itinerary

our trip into the mountains to visit the hot springs gets derailed by the impending typhoon. that's okay, we tell the tour guide.

we'll still bring you to visit the aboriginal tribe, the guide says. we'll look at sun-moon lake and ride on the boat. we just can't get to the mountains. 

that's okay, we tell him. we're not too hot on lakes and boat rides. or tribes.

oh. we'll arrange for a hot spring in taipei for you then, he says.

that's okay too. we're not too hot on dipping ourselves. can you get us to a massage?

which is how the bunch of us end up getting thai massages the day before soulik makes landfall.

soulik

on vacation in taiwan and we are holed up in the hotel waiting out the super typhoon. why? J and J ask. why do we get the drama? hanna snowmaggedon atypical earthquakes and the derecho to name a choice selection.

look at this way, we tell each other. now we get to add a typhoon to the list.

food groups

there are some pretty distinct species on facebook: the domestic goddesses, the foodies who eat out, and the ones who drool. i drool.

i saw him too

monumental idiot, var. n. the fellow who sounds his horn at the taxicab with the running engine and the passenger inside, that is occupying the drop-off point in front of his car. [f. E. monumental + idiot] because, well, most people do not choose to dawdle in the taxicab passing the time of day with the driver, they are usually making a payment, and most taxi drivers do not stay at the drop-off point on purpose to offend the driver behind them, they have  a living to make. 

patience, honey.

i saw him

monumental idiot n. a person who demonstrates his intellectual deficiency by removing his face mask in the Great Haze of 2013 in order to drag a puff from his cigarette. [f. E. monumental + idiot, in the context of the singapore smog.] from observation, typically a young adult male walking with a somewhat self-conscious swagger.

anecdotally, at least five of such specimens exist.

deja vu

trying to buy a surgical mask from the pharmacy in the haze of 2013 is like trying to buy a snow shovel from the hardware store in the winter of snowmaggedon back in 2011. it's a similar exercise in hopeful futility.

perspectives

an old man tells me he enjoyed talking to me. sometimes people don't like to listen, he says. they are too busy. i would be busy too except that these days the Lord carries my tears in his bottle, and that has had the strange effect of slowing me down.

bottle of tears

my friend tells me about her special needs son. he is slow, she says. he will always need help. i hope he can learn a useful skill that he can parlay into self-support in time. 

how many broken dreams lie behind those words, i wonder. how many modified designs and arrested hopes are needed to help a mother look past the pain and focus on the need? grain must be ground to make bread, someone reminds me. one does not volunteer to be ground. but if mayhaps one is, the bread is the finer for it. 

kindness

so i get on the bus in my semi-drained state and stumble off a stop too early but the bus stays there for me to run up again to the driver in a realization of my error. you usually get off at the next stop, he tells me. come on back up! 

:)

trudgery

walking home from the train station

smelling the burn in the air

i want to stop and rest

but i do not

because

to stop 

is 

worse.

i don't remember the haze of 1997.

but the haze of 2013 about tops it.

physiology

body lag n. that pernicious combination of wooziness of mind and malaise of form that cyclically assaults you on monday mornings and only begins to clear toward the end of the day. [f. E. body (Gk. σάρξ) + lag (E. jet-lag)]

can meh?

sans updates sans modernization and i'll bet you sans EMR.

with the original folding aluminium gates.

to which all gen-X-ers say, wow.

drama mama

er. really?

petition

dear neighbor who practices mozart on the piano with such uninhibited vigor,

please consider moving your practice to office hours during the workweek, particularly in view of the fact that it is the school vacation time now. if that is not possible, please consider not practicing on sunday evenings because for most of us, sunday evening is our final line of defense before monday strikes, and the sound of mozart played at twice the decibel and thrice the speed he was written to be played can cause much pre-workweek dyspepsia.

thank you.

your neighbor who once liked mozart,

rugs

cautionary tales - murtagh (2011)

there is a pleasure in being mad

that only the madman knows.

i love this book for his generosity and richness of detail.

it is a survival guide from the trenches.

civil discourse, not

here, read this, and have a look at this. news websites of a certain size are now subject to licensing and regulation of their content on pain of a hefty penalty, so that people like me get to read only what is right. 

i guess my current problem is that in order to get to the right things i need to get past the amazement indignation and revulsion swirling around inside me and blurring my vision. 

so, read this too, and be engaged. the way to tell the right from the wrong, the good book tells me, is by constant practice. sheltering and disuse lead to atrophy and loss.

silence in the face of evil is itself evil.

- d. bonhoeffer

lunch time

today i meet an old gentleman tottering on his umbrella, asking for directions from a stout middle aged gentleman who looks as rough and ready as they come. the older man has just stumbled his way off the bus and the younger man was about to board it. i want to go to my friend's thai food place, the old gentleman says, the one in ikea. this is ikea, the middle aged man says, but there's no thai eatery here. there are eating places across the road, we tell him together, is that where you want to go? and so we shuffle up the escalator across the overhead bridge down the steps over the zebra crossing down the elevator and arrive at the thai stall at the food court. take a cab home after lunch, we tell the old man firmly, and say good bye to each other.

today i learn that we build barriers into everyday tasks that only disabled people ever get to appreciate. i learn that help comes in many guises and that God keeps his kernel of goodness alive in man. i also learn that a quick trip to the neighborhood store is full of possibilities for a soul-enriching adventure, if i keep my heart unhardened and open to interruptions.

DSM-5

the gist of the twenty-years-in-the-making revision is this:

• kids no longer have tantrums. they have disruptive mood dysregulation disorders. if you ask me, someone had a hard day thinking up the alliteration. 
• hoarding has arrived. it has achieved exposure recognition its own tv reality program on hgtv and now has its own psychiatric label. i propose, for DSM-6 consideration: antique-ing, pawn-shopping and celebrity cook-off vicarious living.
• bereavement may well be labelled pathological if you grieve too much. the next logical step is to pathologize death, as the predisposing precipitating and perpetuating causes of grief.

the best thing about DSM-5 is that life is monoaxial again. this is good, because i never could get my head around the five axes to begin with.

journey reflection

he trains my hands for battle;

my arms can bend a bow of bronze.

- psalm 18:34

amazing enough that God allows me to do more than i think i can.

what amazes me more is that he prepares me for it.

not wizardry, but a lovingly carefully crafted fully customized plan in which i have the astounding privilege of participating.

aaah

a book and a cuppa.

weekend heaven.

meadow installation

for all that we are a regimented society

more concerned with daily toil than philosophy

we can at times occasion upon

such total whimsy

as puts a :D

on you

howdy!

it strikes me there are two kinds of strangers:

the ones who smile at you in return, in a communion of spirit with spirit as we briefly pass each other by; and those who avert their eyes in deep suspicion, wondering furiously at the motive behind your smile.

for information, i am on a one-woman crusade to smile proactively and randomly at people i meet. i find it makes my days unexpectedly cheerful, and it throws the morose ones off their balance a tiny bit. join me.

via dolorosa

how long must i wrestle with my thoughts

and day after day have sorrow in my heart?

psalm 13:2

in an undefinable incomprehensible way

these words can only be prayed from the depths of my own sorrows.

thank God for Christ's grief.

sabbath

sunday morning and i think to myself, life is good. not perfect, mind you. there are frustrating bits attached to everyone and everything and to home and to work. my body aches so does his and his head too and every blood investigation i dare not do is off the gaussian norm. fatigue keeps constant company and anxiety is sneakily low-grade endemic. conversations are often one exchange away from discord. on the other hand i find pockets of fellowship and laughter and morning walks in gorgeous weather. sometimes tender kindnesses can fill your heart to spilling. the secret is not looking to a perfect future, i tell someone. it is rejoicing in now.

there remains therefore a rest for the people of God.

- heb 4:9

painless ebm - dans et al (2008)

that nebulous thing called a paper is dissected into four digestible subtypes reconstructed in simple english with nary a reference to PhD-esque math terms and presented in 160 pages.

every discipline needs a sanity saver like this. 

not just a keeper, mind you, but a super-glue keeper.
♥ ♥ ♥

epiphany

almost five months into my new life and it hits me today that one concept about sums up this entire season: learning curve, steep. i don't know about the next person, but i have stuffed more into my 'ere 'ead in four months and a half than i did for a long time before, and i wasn't exactly slacking before. that krebs cycle season doesn't come anywhere near this.

i hope HOM understands that this phoenix* act can only be survived a limited number of times in one's life, and i have pretty much exhausted my quota.

*dedicated homemaker morphs effortlessly** into savvy professional woman.

**that, of course, is a publicity stunt type of declaration and a blatant lie.

mother's day

for the girl who has everything

from the men who know her so well -

new home buttons!

belum terubah

the malaysian general elections are freshly over. they were keenly watched hotly contested and deeply angst ridden. the final results were painfully disappointing to many.

shades of ge 2011, a jaded part of me whispers. in this part of the world, can the incumbent ever lose? does a leopard change its spots? 

the wiser part takes a longer view. every experience counts, it says. civic disagreement and civil discourse do not quickly sit at the same table. in time, perhaps they may.

i would like to see that.

krung thep 2

what's new after a decade:

• suvarnabhumi
• drinkable tap water
• fuchsia-hued taxicabs
• tentacle-standard skybridges 

what's unchanged:

• the traffic
• the shrines
• the mendicants

arabian nights

we visit with an old friend, HOM and i. we are different in culture background pursuits priorities and religion. we live in different places far apart and we have different problems in life. we all three of us love hand knotted rugs. somehow, HOM keeps his number through years and cellphone changes and smartphone upgrades. he recognizes HOM's voice on the first greeting.

my son is big now, he tells us proudly. he's in university. my daughter weighs on my heart, he says too. we  barely understand this friendship, but we are humbled by it.

thai food

unlike its fiery red tom yam cousin, tom yam nam jae is a bland pale yellow broth with some random herbs and your choice of meat swimming inside. the heat develops in stages, beginning with your first unsuspecting gulp and expanding in your mouth and your gut until you gasp into you lemonade and weep into your rice. 

we haven't been able to get this outside of thailand. it has been worth the ten year wait. 

krung thep

back in the land of smiles for the first time in ten years. the nice nostalgic vibes come back readily. we recognize old landmarks amidst the new landscape and among the unchanged throngs. the weather is as hot as i remember it. the smattering of thai i know comes stuttering back. lot dai mai? HOM says with great conviction to the vendors. the street smells are as gorgeous as ever. the underbelly is as sleazy. the traffic has not aged a single day.

guilt trip

your father and i are taking off for an overnight trip, i tell J1 and J2. whaaatt? they say. you're taking this empty nest thing a little too seriously, aren't you? J2 says. what are you going to do to prove you love me, J1 says. sneaky manipulators both.

grad grades

read this. in brief, a couple of final year communications students spend $26,000 on their college final year project. they had initially hoped to spend $5,000 each.

if you ask me, their supervisor must have kinda lost them somewhere along the way. also, this magnitude of budget deficit surely earns an automatic failing grade. they might well have lost the contract by now.

saturday outing

we discover walmart in singapore.
different name, similar philosophy.
same supplier.