#14 Before You Go

To a friend.

I walked around the airport aimlessly, thinking about what you told me the night before.

I was going to say I’m sorry. But truth be told, I don’t really know what to say. What is the appropriate thing to a dying person? Is there ever something appropriate to say? Death isn’t something I’ve been very familiar with.

There were so many people busy shopping for souvenirs to bring home with them. The café’s and shops so busy, so bustling with life. So jarring in contrast with the subject in my head – death.

I remember how nonchalant you seemed to say “I’ve come to accept it.” It both amazes me, and sends a chilling cold down my spine. I try to imagine how you feel at this point in time, but I cannot possibly gasp it. God only knows the kind of turmoil and pain and despair you’ve had to go through to come to this point of being able to simply say “I’ve come to accept it”.

It’s true. We all eventually die anyway – so fleeting is life on earth. The reminder of death sure has a way of slicing right through life, instantly revealing to you what truly is important and what is not. What really matters and what does not. How petty it all suddenly feels, chasing the things we chase. The thing you spend so much time fighting for suddenly doesn’t seem like the thing you really want when you know it will all amount to nothing when you go.

I’ve been thinking very hard about what to say to you. Even as I type this, I still struggle. I only know I must say something to you, for all that you are and all that you have been to me.

I try recalling some of the things I read in the book Tuesdays with Morrie by Mitch Albom. His coach was dying a slow death too. He had the chance to sit with him every Tuesday until the day he died. Talking about death every Tuesday was morbid. But it gave both of them deep meaning and insight into life. I hope you will still find meaning in these last few months.

It's days later, I find myself standing in front of an urn holding the ashes of my mother’s brother. He had died earlier this year of a stroke after an argument with his wife. They were afraid to tell my mother – afraid she would not be able to take it. Rows and rows of shelf held the ashes of so many people, some long gone, some only recently. Their pictures were placed right next to their urn, so that you could see how they looked like. Other items were also placed next to the urn – paper cars, drink bottles, crosses, cigarettes, one even had a Harley Davison motorbike. I guessed these were either things their survivors wanted them to bring to the afterlife, or things that they liked when they were alive. It felt somewhat eerie, being among so many dead remains. But it also felt very solemn. A grim remind of how short life really is for all of us.

I listen to my aunt and mother as they talked about my dead uncle. I could see the sadness in their eyes. Truly we live on in this world through the lives of those we touched. And those whom we touch go on touching other lives - a long chain of lives touching other lives, making a difference, making a change.

I walked out of the building, staring at the giant sign board. Memorial centre; how apt a name – a place you go to remember someone. My thoughts turn to you, unsurprisingly. I did mention I wanted to remember you properly. Slowly, the words started stitching themselves together. This much I have gathered I want to say to you;

I wish I could give you a good warm hug and tell you I’ll be there every step of the way till the very last step. But I cannot. So it would seem these thoughts are the only thing I can offer you.

Your heart is filled with love and charity. Even without ever meeting you, I know this. A selfless soul, ever putting her wants and needs second to the people she cares for. Many will call you silly and naïve. But I know God will call you a cheerful giver.

A painful thought comes to me; they say that God loves blessing a cheerful giver. And yet, here you are dying at such an age in such a manner. Where is Gods promised blessing? Recently, someone said to me he can never understand God. How can he allow so much injustice and suffering in this world? How he could let good people suffer and die while bad people live and prosper? He was talking to me about the crippled beggar near our table. But I thought about you.

I’ve never met you. But I have spent the last 2 years corresponding with you. I’d like to think I do know you, in some ways. I’ve never heard your voice, but you generously revealed your inner voice to me. I’ve never seen your face, but you always spoke freely and honestly with me, that it felt like we’re close friends anyway – people who genuinely cared for each other. We’ve never actually gotten involved in each other’s lives physically, but it still felt like we touched each other’s lives.

Thank you for your friendship. It felt real to me. Thank you for your words and your praises. They soothed my heart. Thank you for being a testimony to me that there are truly loving and selfless souls in this world – people who give and give and refuse to stop until they cannot give anymore. People who still put others before them, even as their own lives are literally at the brink of ending and not breathe a word of it; it gave me great hope and removed a lot of my cynicism. I will remember you always, long after you are gone. I will whisper your name – your real name - quietly to myself in remembrance of you - you who loved relentlessly, and gave unreservedly.

May God in His love and mercy, descend on you and give you peace, keeping you safe in His arms till the end of days. Perhaps one day, in the afterlife, we will finally meet.

Till then my dear friend

#13 The Power of Introverts

 I couldn't stop nodding my head as I watched this video. When it finished, my other half looked at me and said "That is so you."

Many things pointed out here hit right at the bulls eyes for me.

I only realized I was an introvert as I moved into my teens. I slowly learned that I preferred to keep most of my true feelings to myself. My feelings were something that was incredibly personal and private, and not something to be easily paraded and conveyed to others. It was like a precious little secret that you were generally quite selective about who to share with. After some social time, I always wanted to be alone for a while to recharge. I enjoyed devoting my time to close friends, I enjoyed deep discussions and I most definitely expressed myself better in writing.

But at the same time, I also always envied and admired those who were bold, expressive, and in the words of the video above, 'alpha'. I've never ever felt 'alpha' in my life - always feeling overshadowed or out done by people who seemed so much more confident and smarter than me. My father was one of those extroverts, or so I thought. He seemed to always be the centre of attention when I grew up. He was charming, funny and a great conversationalist. I admired him and wanted to be like him. I guess every boy wanted to be like his father. 

I never stopped being an introvert, but as I went through my teens, I slowly crept out of my shell. Like what the video says, the world looks up to extroverts. The world expects us, especially men, to take charge and lead. I learned how to handle conversations with friends or groups, I learned how to talk to a girl without blushing or panicking. I got reasonably good grades, I participated in sports and I even did public speaking and debates. I learned how to do everything the so called 'alpha' was supposed to do. But most subtly, I also learned how to pass off as an extrovert, even though deep inside I was still very much an introvert.

This is true even until today, because even the person closest to me - my wife - observed that I was very very good at steering all sorts of conversation with people without ever having to reveal my opinion or feelings if I didn't want to. Only a direct question, asked with resolve and purpose and patience would make me reveal them.

There is this quote attributed to Socrates that goes “Sometimes you put walls up not to keep people out, but to see who cares enough to break them down.”. I'd bet a pretty penny Socrates was an introvert, and so was my father.

Introverts like me feel the need to share and express themselves just as much as any extrovert. The difference is probably that the extrovert will share with anyone that is willing to hear it while the introvert will share with someone that wants to listen to it. There is a very easily missed distinction there. We want to talk to people we know want to listen to what we have to say. Otherwise, we'd just rather keep it inside.

Introverts are inherently better listeners. We are acutely aware of who listens and who doesn't. We notice right away when someone isn't listening We are mindful when a conversation involves you doing all the talking and me doing all the listening. Not that we'd tell you so - introverts remember?

If you know an introvert that listens to you rant and whine all the time, or if you have a confidant whom you go to when you feel you need to let some things out, know this - they have things they want to share too. They listen to you because they care about you. But don't forget that there are times that they need to say something too. They want to be shown the same kind of care and attention they are giving you.

The difference is, they are waiting for you to ask them about it.

Trust me on this. I know because I'm waiting too.

#12 Baby Yet?

One of the most popular questions you get asked right after you get married is "So when's the baby coming?"  Some people also like to ask "So how's married life?", but it's just a matter of time before the first one is eventually thrown out there as well. People just kind of expect that because it's the natural progression of things. In fact, some people would even say that the whole point of getting marries is so that you can start having kids. 

But I remember standing there in that church 2 years ago, watching my bride walk down the aisle. I was ready to marry and commit my life to this woman. But having a baby and becoming a father; now that was another story. In our private moment, I had told her "Give me a year." I could feel that I needed time. It just felt like I had made a great big leap into marriage. I didn't felt anywhere near ready for fatherhood. I knew I want to be a great dad, but I didn't feel like I 'qualified' yet. Great fathers are often great men. And I didn't feel so great. 

I always remember a line from Mitch Albom's book Have A Little Faith. 

“All parents damage their children. It cannot be helped. Youth, like pristine glass, absorbs the prints of its handlers. Some parents smudge, others crack, a few shatter childhoods completely into jagged little pieces, beyond repair.” 

Until I felt more ready, I didn't really want to risk shattering any childhoods. 

My other half was more than ready of course. It just amazes me how some women have such strong maternal instincts. I watch as so many of my friends turn from hot babes to hot mama's. The transition seems so natural to them. The minute the baby is put in their hands, it's as if long dormant instinct automatically kicks in. They cuddle and care for the child (even the ones that aren't theirs) with such ease and tenderness. 

On the other hand, there I was always holding their baby in the most awkward manner. I'm not one of those guys good with children or baby. Children annoy me because they tend to be noisy little rascals. Babies scare me because I feel like I might accidentally break their neck while holding them. I guess something about Mitch Albom's analogy about youth and shattered glass just made me all the more nervous around infants. 

But the other day, on one of those rare days that I was actually on Facebook looking at feeds, I started looking at photos of some of my friends babies. I know that sounds perfectly normal to a woman. But for a guy like me, it's rare. I find it more annoying than adorable when parents post infinite amount of photos of their babies all the time. But anyway, I looked. And couldn't help but notice how the little girl had her mothers beautiful eyes. Unfortunately, she had her fathers ugly nose too. 

And then I smiled. I caught myself looking at this child with a sense of adoration that I wasn't quite unfamiliar with. Her little squinty eyes staring earnestly, her thumbs the size of my pinky. I am smiling looking at a baby? Really? Me? It was at that moment that I realized - I am ready. Not in my head, but in my heart. Suddenly the thought of carrying a little mini me around town with a prem and a bag full of diapers doesn't quite irk me the way it used to. I realized very slowly that there is great joy in living a life that involves committing yourself to something greater than yourself. That there is great meaning and happiness when you devote your time and energy for the betterment of someone else's life. That meaning and happiness is amplified even more when that someone else turns out to be none other than your own flesh and blood - your child. Loving a child is equivalent to completely loving another person and loving yourself at the same time. When thought of it that way, I suddenly find the devotion parents show their children to be so natural, expected even. 

I still don't feel like I'm well prepared to be a father, but I guess I'll just have to improvise my way to being an awesome dad. If I screw up the first one.... well... I can always make another one. :-P

Hopefully, with God's grace we won't have to wait too long. 

Cheers everyone. 

#11 When You Love A Woman

I've never considered myself much of an emo love song kind of person. On top of that, I hardly ever listen to Chinese songs. But this one seriously got me feeling rather soft in the heart and wet in the eyes.




My wife played it for me one day. It was before our wedding. In fact, she loved the song so much she wanted to sing it to me on our wedding. I can't really find a translation that does justice to it, so I'm trying to translate it myself (and hopefully try to relearn a bit of Chinese).

It's a song sang from a woman to her husband, talking about how she will grow old with him, listening to his stories, be with him all the days of their lives. And when it's time to die, she'd want him to go first, so that he wouldn't ever need to feel the pain of seeing her die instead.


It’s a beautiful song, with really beautiful lyrics. But it wasn’t so much the song that touched me. Rather, it is knowing very well that every word sung, every feeling expressed  in that song were things she’s always wanted me to know about her love. She has never been one to express herself in words eloquently. All that I’ve learned and understood about her love for me have come through years of trying to understand her actions.

She asked me one day how I knew she was the one I wanted to marry. Everybody seems to be asking me that these days. She said that even after all these years, she still found me hard to read. So I held her and told her.

It was when I knew in my heart that she was would always be by my side, through thick and thin, good times or bad times, in wealth or in poverty, in good health or in sickness. She’d stand by my side till Death himself came to take one of us away from each other. That was when I knew.

Perhaps all women who truly love their man would do the same. But not every woman finds a man she’d be willing to give that kind of love to. And not every man who receives it realizes its value.

I guess I’ve been blessed. That’s I’d just stumble upon a woman that’d turn my life around, bring a kind of joy and laughter I had never knew before, while so many others struggle finding the one person to commit their life to. And even among people who have someone, they struggle to find happiness and fulfillment from the relationship they commit themselves to.

Sometimes, people would ask my wife how she found such a ‘good catch’. They seem to have the impression that I’m some sort of well to do career man whose wife can afford to kick back and enjoy the benefit of her husband’s success. Apart from that being furthest from the truth, they also don’t realize that when we were first together, I wasn’t a ‘good catch’ as they defined it. She appeared in my life one day, by pure chance.

At the time, I had nothing; no money, no career, no good looks, no charm. I guess nothing has changed there! But I did one thing right. You see, she didn’t ‘catch’ me. It was I who never let her go.

Come to think of it, I still don’t really know how she decided to be with me. It was not like she lacked suitors. There were many others interested in her. But she stayed, patiently waiting and enduring while I struggled and learned how to come into my own as a man. Perhaps I should one day.

They say a man’s eligibility increases as he ages and climbs up in life society. They also say a woman’s eligibility decreases as she ages and the her beauty fades. I don’t know where people get all these conclusions from.

 But I do know this; at the peak of her youth and beauty, when I was young and had nothing, she was with me. Because of that, when the time comes, when I am at the peak of my life and my success, when she has become old and wrinkled, I will be with her.

#10 A Time To Tie It

[HIM] “When did you know she was the one? What was the point you knew this was the woman you were going to marry?”

[ME] “Erm… well… I kinda… I mean… I always….. ermm…. it kind of…. ..Wait, let me gather my thoughts.”

[HIM]“Okay…………..”

[awkward silence]

“Alright, I got it. It was when I proposed.”

[HIM]“…………….REALLY?”

[ME] “OK, not really. But that was the moment it changed from just a thought to an action. It was the moment everything crystallized.”

[HIM]“But what about before that? When did you decide you were going to propose?”

[ME] “Before that? Well, initially it was just ‘OK, this feels really good. Let’s see where this leads to'. Then it became ‘Wow, this is really working out. I think she might be the one.’ In between that was a lot of "I'm not sure, I'm not sure". After that it was ‘OK, I’m pretty sure this is it’. The problem with me was, it also ended a ‘………but not yet.’ I wasn’t really ready. And I think we stayed at that ‘not yet’ stage for a long time.

[HIM]“What were you guys waiting for?”

[ME] “She was waiting for ME… and I was waiting for……… my heart.”

[HIM] to what?

[ME] to be ready.

[HIM]“That was a lot of waiting… for the both of you. How did you finally become ready?”

[ME] “Long story….trust me… “

[HIM]“Okay….. So I need to talk to you about this. I think I’m ready.”

[ME] “Is SHE ready?”

[HIM] “I think so…”

[ME] “OK, we’ll talk about it when I’m back.”

[HIM]“OK, see ya.”

[HIM]“By the way, who did you talk to before you decided to propose?”

[ME] “No one….”

[HIM]“How come?”

[ME] “Because I figured, if I needed to ask someone about it, then I'm not really ready to take the plunge…But that's just me. In your case, I think it's best to talk it out.”

Exciting times ahead I must say.

#8 Messy Breakups

Breakups; it’s one of those ugly but inevitable parts of life. Falling in love is such an intense and euphoric experience, falling out of love seems so remote a possibility. No one starts a relationship thinking about an inevitable breakup. But they happen.

Breakups are painful. They say it feels almost like mourning for the death of someone. You go through the same stages of grief as any other person dealing with a great loss – denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance. Only, something elsse makes it more complex. In death, the dead person doesn’t (or isn’t supposed to) still stroll around town, post Facebook messages or exist in your realm anymore. In a breakup, the relationship is lost but the 2 people that constituted that relationship is very much around. You mourn the loss of your relationship, then half of that relationship, your ex, calls up to pack his / her things from your place. It’s a weird feeling. In a way, the relationship haunts you even when it’s no longer there and just adds to the pain even more.

Breakups are messy. Even if there are only 2 of you, it’s messy. Everyone around gets hit by the aftermath. After all, when you first started, everyone around you had to consciously make provisions for your partner. They offer you encouragement, affirming how great a girl/guy your partner is. Now, they have to find a way to console you, convincing you how its not that great a loss. From finding a real catch, everyone now tells you there are plenty fish in the sea.

I guess its also a strange feeling. You mourn the lost of your relationship, but somehow the two of you who made up that relationship is still around. In a way, it haunts you like some restless soul still lingering around even after its supposed to be gone.

But breakups are a part of life sadly. Not every relationship will end with 'till death do us part'. Most will not in fact. I know most women (here in Asia at least) take it very badly when the man they lose their virginity to doesn't turn out to be the man they say 'I do' to. They feel like they've been left with the short end of the stick when it all breaks apart. After all, what did HE give up? I'm just another feather on his cap now. Another name on his list of 'conquered women'. I don't know if that's a fair statement. I am inclined to believe that men take it just as hard as women, though we deal with it differently. Man or woman, any genuine relationship would have involved both parties investing in it emotionally. And when it breaks, it’s gotta hurt no for both sides.

But breakups are good too, in a way. I do believe that there are couples whom, despite all their best efforts, are genuinely not right for each other. Relationships are as much about companionship as they are about love. So if even after years of trying, two people still seem to struggle to love each other or enjoy each other’s company, then something isn’t right. You relationship is supposed to uplift you, give you strength, provide you with refuge. It is supposed to be one of those rare constants that you are allowed to hold on two when everything else in the world is changing before your eyes. Instead, a lot of couples find their relationship becoming something that is holding them down, or diminishing their identity, preventing them from becoming who they were meant to be. And when that happens, you start to resent you relationship instead of embrace it. If you cannot find a way of being in a relationship and still maintain your sense of self identity, it's either your partner isn't right for you, or you aren't ready to be in a relationship. Either way, a breakup wouldn't possibly be a bad idea.

I think breakups happen more because people fail to build on companionship, rather than because of a lack of love. Almost every person I’ve spoken just after a breakup has told me that despite the breakup, they still love the other person. Yet just that love alone simply wasn’t enough. They just couldn’t find a way to be with one another, be it due to difference in values, priorities, religion, family objections or whatever. So much for love conquering all. 

#7 Loyalty At Work

Is employee loyalty a relic of the past in this day and age? The answer is a resounding Yes if you ask some of my friends.

"Money talks baby... " they eloquently put it. All talk about values of loyalty, service and oneness with your employer are all just sentimental rubbish from a long gone era. Even the Japanese are starting to break away from those values, what more we who aren't Japanese and are of a much recent generation.In any case, corporations hire and fire on the basis of merits and performance these days. Do well and you go up, screw up and you go out. No place for sentiment in the corporate jungle. It would seem your Key Performance Index (KPI) will always outweigh your years of service.

I ask myself if this is indeed true. Indeed, I have known people who’ve service their employers for decades only to be laid off the minute profit margins were thinning. Corporations inevitably take care of the bottom line first before taking care of its staff. Yet, a big part doesn’t really want to agree with all of that – for very personal reasons.

I have been serving the same company, working for the same boss for the past 6 years of my working life. Many people have expressed surprise and ask me when I plan to make a move. Unlike the rest of my friends, I work for an obscure little engineering company. I work with a boss who is both the manager and owner of the company. Work gets done in a very informal (or chaotic) and personal way. This same boss helped me in a very big way with the last leg of my undergraduate studies, when I had not enough cash to continue. If you would understand my background – my own relatives refused to help me when I needed help the most. But this man helped me, even when I was a perfect stranger. Out of gratefulness and gratitude, I have served him loyally. I gave him and my work my personal dedication. And in response, gave me significant pay raises and made it a point to personally mentor me – coaching and imparting me with whatever skill, knowledge or wisdom he had. I never thought I would have ever learnt this much in the short space of 6 years.

But sometimes I wonder to myself, how long will this continue? Will it not be a matter of time before I hit a plateau? What happens then? Do I leave an pursuit other things – things that will help me continue to grow? Or do I stay on and continue serving this man? Is it right to leave after what he has done for me? Is it right to leave after all that mentoring and coaching? And if I stay, how long more do I stay? My dilemma isn’t about loyalty to a corporation like my friends, but loyalty to a person. How far should it go?

They say you shouldn’t leave it up to your boss or employer to chart your career for you. Shape the life you want to have. And so I ask myself “Is there more out there for me? Is there something else that should be doing? Am I limiting myself by staying? Or is staying the better thing to do?” I know how to ask the questions, but finding the answer is proving much harder. Everyone has an opinion, but no one knows for sure how things really do turn out till it happens. “In his heart Man plans his way, but the Lord determines his step.” said King Solomon. He sure knew a thing or two about life.

Am I at a plateau? In a way yes. While the first few years of work felt like being in the Land of Oz, constantly bumping into new things, the last year or so became more of a repetition of things I’ve already done before. Is that a bad thing? I don’t know. In a way, it means that I am fully competent in my job. But it also means that I’m running out of new experiences – and with that comes the risk of slipping into years of complacency, doing the things you already know how to do over and over again. I call that the corporate limbo land. Not going up, not going down, just there. Is that a bad thing? Again, I don’t know. Is contentment and happiness found in constantly achieving more and more, accumulating more and more or learning more and more? Or is it by training your heart to accept and be happy with the things that you already have without wishing you had more. Is there a way to combine these two things?

Frankly, I don’t know.