I love you. Tang Dynasty #2

 Religions & Philosophies.

Confucius- Getty Images

Laozi

Buddha

Jesus

During the era of great trade and exchange of cultures with the world, China became a hub for all religions. Many types of religions were observed and practiced. With the common practice of indigenous Taoism, along came Islam, Christianity and Buddhism. 

There was also the generally accepted and widely practiced philosophy of Confucianism. Instead of resisting the pursuit of knowledge of religions, Confucian scholars embraced Buddhism and Taoism to revise some aspects of Confucianism. 

Unlike modern day situations where beliefs and religions clashed, China underwent dynamic transformation in religious and philosophical pursuits mixing and matching different practices. A typical believer could visit a Buddhist temple, make sacrifices to Taoist deities and hang a cross on the wall. It was a mixture of Mahayana Buddhism and Taoism that gave birth to Zen buddhism in Japan.

This policy of inclusiveness and flexibility of religious beliefs and practices further contributed to better understanding and great prosperity among the people local or the international community. It is no wonder the Tang Dynasty was unrivalled at that time.

I love you. The Invitation #10

 The Fire.

This chapter vividly talks about the transformation in our lives, however painful, to feel the flames and rise from the ashes.

 

It doesn't interest me who you know

or how you come to be here.

I want to know if you will stand 

in the center of the fire

with me

and not shrink back.

"SOMETIMES WE GO OUT AND SEEK the fire that will burn away what is dross in our lives. More often we awaken suddenly to find ourselves encircled by flame. Intense experiences of the heart transform us. I want to know if you can stand with me, eyes wide open, when the fire- asked for or unbidden- consumes all we think we know. I want to know if you will offer yourself as fuel for the flames and let the Mystery we seek, the Divine we long for, which comes in unpredictable ways, consume and transform you." 

~ Oriah Mountain Dreamer

If the above words don't yet move you. I will say this;

Transformation is about breaking and burning, our persona to break our boundaries beyond our physical persona. To become a larger form to an even larger form to be inclusive of everyone and everything around us, to no form and to live an ordinary life. The ordinary life is already beautiful and is accessible to all. All that is left, is allowing our love to direct our actions to enjoy this ordinary life. Do not take our persona and our existing form too seriously. Fool around more. 

That is transformation. Namaste. 

I love you. Tang Dynasty - Golden Age of China

 Tang Dynasty - Art & Poetry.

During the Golden Age of China, poets and poetry was highly revered amongst royalty, court officials, concubines and commoners. Not only do they appreciate poetry, almost everyone became poets themselves, writing and reciting about life, unfolding in their time.  Records revealed that, thousands of poets had written thousands upon thousands of poetry. Thanks to the Tang court and others who came after, like the Song, Ming, and Ching Emperors, who made it mandatory to archiving volumes of Tang poetry.

 *According to the pre-eminent collection of Tang poetry entitled Complete Tang Poems( Quan Tangshi in Chinese), there were around 49,000 surviving poems divided into 900 volumes and written by a total of 2,200 authors.

They say; Art mirrors Life. And life during the Tang period in China was blossoming. 

Almost all aspects of life were going gloriously well. This was mostly due to the good governance of the Li Family who ruled during the Tang Dynasty (618-907 AD). Li Yuan, the founder was a garrison commander in Taiyuan when revolt against the Sui Dynasty broke out in 613. He marched to the Sui capital, forced the last Sui emperor to abdicate and founded the Tang Dynasty. From here onwards, it took five years of campaigning by the imperial princes Li Jiancheng and Li Shimin before the country was reunified.

Here are some notable achievements during the Tang Dynasty aka China's Golden Era;

• Commerce and Economy - Trade flourished within inter-cities as well as internationally. Merchants flocked to China via the Silk Road opening up trade routes and exchanges of knowledge and culture between East and West flourished. Chang'An, the capital was the largest city in the world rivalling Rome which was the Western equivalent at that time. China was the most powerful and the most prosperous nation on earth.

• Good Governance - Just like all dynasties, it was ruled by a powerful emperor who instituted, modified and carried out reforms within a legal system with laws that benefitted everyone. 

The government of the Tang Dynasty had three basic departments that came up with laws and policies. The framework of rules and laws were all administered by a group that was called the Six Ministries. These ministries were; 

1-military, 

2-personnel administration, 

3-finance, 

4-justice, 

5-rites 

6-the public works. 

This system worked very well and it actually outlived the Tang Dynasty, which collapsed in the year 907. The government system was actually modelled upon which every dynasty based its own systems. This was also widely used by other kingdoms and countries, including Korea and Vietnam.

• Art and Culture - Creativity in the form of culture, art, painting and poetry were heavily promoted during this time. Notably Tang poetry which stood to define Chinese literary culture to this day. 

Some characteristics of Tang poetry.

Tang poetry was strongly connected to religion and had a major impact on the Song Dynasty poetry and even on world literature. The most popular Tang poetry styles included ”jintishi,” used by poets such as Cui Hao and Wang Wei and ”gushi,” used by Li Bai.

The former poetical style is characterized by seven Chinese characters per line, an antithesis between the second and the third couplets, and eight-line stanzas. Poetry contests were very popular and Tang poems were often recited in Classical Chinese, which was spoken during that era.

Here is one of the most famous, that almost all Chinese scholars would know:

Song of Unending Sorrow

China's Emperor, craving beauty that might shake an empire,

Was on the throne for many years, searching, never finding,

Till a little child of the Yang clan, hardly even grown,

Bred in an inner chamber, with no one knowing her,

But with graces granted by heaven and not to be concealed,

At last one day was chosen for the imperial household.

If she but turned her head and smiled, there were cast a hundred spells,

And the powder and paint of the Six Palaces faded into nothing.

...It was early spring. They bathed her in the FlowerPure Pool,

Which warmed and smoothed the creamy-tinted crystal of her skin,

And, because of her languor, a maid was lifting her

When first the Emperor noticed her and chose her for his bride.

The cloud of her hair, petal of her cheek, gold ripples of her crown when she moved,

Were sheltered on spring evenings by warm hibiscus curtains;

But nights of spring were short and the sun arose too soon,

And the Emperor, from that time forth, forsook his early hearings

And lavished all his time on her with feasts and revelry,

His mistress of the spring, his despot of the night.

There were other ladies in his court, three thousand of rare beauty,

But his favours to three thousand were concentered in one body.

By the time she was dressed in her Golden Chamber, it would be almost evening;

And when tables were cleared in the Tower of Jade, she would loiter, slow with wine.

Her sisters and her brothers all were given titles;

And, because she so illumined and glorified her clan,

She brought to every father, every mother through the empire,

Happiness when a girl was born rather than a boy.

...High rose Li Palace, entering blue clouds,

And far and wide the breezes carried magical notes

Of soft song and slow dance, of string and bamboo music.

The Emperor's eyes could never gaze on her enough-

Till war-drums, booming from Yuyang, shocked the whole earth

And broke the tunes of The Rainbow Skirt and the Feathered Coat.

The Forbidden City, the nine-tiered palace, loomed in the dust

From thousands of horses and chariots headed southwest.

The imperial flag opened the way, now moving and now pausing- -

But thirty miles from the capital, beyond the western gate,

The men of the army stopped, not one of them would stir

Till under their horses' hoofs they might trample those moth- eyebrows....

Flowery hairpins fell to the ground, no one picked them up,

And a green and white jade hair-tassel and a yellowgold hair- bird.

The Emperor could not save her, he could only cover his face.

And later when he turned to look, the place of blood and tears

Was hidden in a yellow dust blown by a cold wind.

... At the cleft of the Dagger-Tower Trail they crisscrossed through a cloud-line

Under Omei Mountain. The last few came.

Flags and banners lost their colour in the fading sunlight....

But as waters of Shu are always green and its mountains always blue,

So changeless was His Majesty's love and deeper than the days.

He stared at the desolate moon from his temporary palace.

He heard bell-notes in the evening rain, cutting at his breast.

And when heaven and earth resumed their round and the dragon car faced home,

The Emperor clung to the spot and would not turn away

From the soil along the Mawei slope, under which was buried

That memory, that anguish. Where was her jade-white face?

Ruler and lords, when eyes would meet, wept upon their coats

As they rode, with loose rein, slowly eastward, back to the capital.

...The pools, the gardens, the palace, all were just as before,

The Lake Taiye hibiscus, the Weiyang Palace willows;

But a petal was like her face and a willow-leaf her eyebrow --

And what could he do but cry whenever he looked at them?

...Peach-trees and plum-trees blossomed, in the winds of spring;

Lakka-foliage fell to the ground, after autumn rains;

The Western and Southern Palaces were littered with late grasses,

And the steps were mounded with red leaves that no one swept away.

Her Pear-Garden Players became white-haired

And the eunuchs thin-eyebrowed in her Court of PepperTrees;

Over the throne flew fire-flies, while he brooded in the twilight.

He would lengthen the lamp-wick to its end and still could never sleep.

Bell and drum would slowly toll the dragging nighthours

And the River of Stars grow sharp in the sky, just before dawn,

And the porcelain mandarin-ducks on the roof grow thick with morning frost

And his covers of kingfisher-blue feel lonelier and colder

With the distance between life and death year after year;

And yet no beloved spirit ever visited his dreams.

...At Lingqiong lived a Taoist priest who was a guest of heaven,

Able to summon spirits by his concentrated mind.

And people were so moved by the Emperor's constant brooding

That they besought the Taoist priest to see if he could find her.

He opened his way in space and clove the ether like lightning,

Up to heaven, under the earth, looking everywhere.

Above, he searched the Green Void, below, the Yellow Spring;

But he failed, in either place, to find the one he looked for.

And then he heard accounts of an enchanted isle at sea,

A part of the intangible and incorporeal world,

With pavilions and fine towers in the five-coloured air,

And of exquisite immortals moving to and fro,

And of one among them-whom they called The Ever True-

With a face of snow and flowers resembling hers he sought.

So he went to the West Hall's gate of gold and knocked at the jasper door

And asked a girl, called Morsel-of-Jade, to tell The Doubly- Perfect.

And the lady, at news of an envoy from the Emperor of China,

Was startled out of dreams in her nine-flowered, canopy.

She pushed aside her pillow, dressed, shook away sleep,

And opened the pearly shade and then the silver screen.

Her cloudy hair-dress hung on one side because of her great haste,

And her flower-cap was loose when she came along the terrace,

While a light wind filled her cloak and fluttered with her motion

As though she danced The Rainbow Skirt and the Feathered Coat.

And the tear-drops drifting down her sad white face

Were like a rain in spring on the blossom of the pear.

But love glowed deep within her eyes when she bade him thank her liege,

Whose form and voice had been strange to her ever since their parting --

Since happiness had ended at the Court of the Bright Sun,

And moons and dawns had become long in Fairy-Mountain Palace.

But when she turned her face and looked down toward the earth

And tried to see the capital, there were only fog and dust.

So she took out, with emotion, the pledges he had given

And, through his envoy, sent him back a shell box and gold hairpin,

But kept one branch of the hairpin and one side of the box,

Breaking the gold of the hairpin, breaking the shell of the box;

"Our souls belong together," she said, " like this gold and this shell --

Somewhere, sometime, on earth or in heaven, we shall surely

And she sent him, by his messenger, a sentence reminding him

Of vows which had been known only to their two hearts:

"On the seventh day of the Seventh-month, in the Palace of Long Life,

We told each other secretly in the quiet midnight world

That we wished to fly in heaven, two birds with the wings of one,

And to grow together on the earth, two branches of one tree."

Earth endures, heaven endures; some time both shall end,

While this unending sorrow goes on and on for ever.

Bai Juyi

There are reportedly as many as 100 versions of the poem. Many as there are, they tell a beautiful tale of unending love as much as unending sorrow. This story also inspired a classic work of Japanese literature- Tale of Genji, written in the early 11th Century by Murasaki Shikibu declared to be the world's first novel.

At the end of it, my take is that for any dynasty, nation or society to prosper and thrive, it must nurture and promote their art and culture. For without them, people are merely roaming the earth in pursuit of material well being. Material well being cannot be sustained with just hard power alone. Soft power is as important if not more powerful, as has been demonstrated by the soft, beautiful and irresistible Yang GuiFei.

I love you. The Invitation #9

 The Commitment.

It doesn't interest me 

to know where you live or how much money you have.

I want to know if you can get up,

after the night of grief and despair,

weary and bruised to the bone,

and do what needs to be done

to feed the children.

"TRY THIS ONE MORNING as you are lying in bed: imagine millions of men and women all around the world rising from their beds where the sun finds them- leaving back supporting mattresses and straw pallets,hammocks, futons, and thin blankets on dirt floors- to take care of the children. Regardless of their religion, culture, or material circumstances, there are noses to be wiped, bellies to be fed, tears to be dried, and answers to be provided for the questions of young minds. In modern cities and remote villages, luxurious mansions and desolate refugee camps, fires are lit, stoves are turned on, cereal boxes are opened, water is drawn from taps or pumps or streams, fruit is peeled, and breasts are bared for hungry mouths. It doesn't matter whether the men and women have the resources to adequately provide what the children need, or whether they feel like getting up and doing what has to be done-life cries out in it's need to continue whether the providers are ill or healthy, illiterate or educated, despairing or filled with enthusiasm for life."

"Reach out one morning with your imagination and feel them, the millions of men and women who do the best they can every day to feed their children's bodies, hearts and minds."

 

~ Oriah Mountain Dreamer.

Fitting tribute to Mothers and Fathers on Father's Day, if they have children then it's Motherfucker's Day. 

I love you. My secret sandwich.

 My lettuce, tomato, egg, cheese, gherkin and ham sandwich.  

I believe everyone is creative, (ie. can create something) and when pursued consistently, will yield satisfying results, for the creator.

Prior to recently gaining some measure of satisfaction in the home culinary field, I have often prided myself with the ability of making some pretty formidable sandwiches. Except in those days, my creations have been accidental, mainly comprising leftovers and improvements. This time, my sandwich dinner was pre-meditated (invaded my meditations as well) days ahead.

The key to a good meal is preparation. And I was prepared. All my ingredients were laid out on the kitchen counter so I won't miss out on any of my intended players.

I start with prepping and slicing the tomato, pickled cucumber, romaine lettuce, grate the block of aged cheese, and mix the mustard powder with the right amount of oil & water.

Then I line my small pan with premium unsalted butter and proceed to lightly brown the slices of bread in the heated pan. This gives the soft fluffy bread more rigidity to hold the impending load of goodies. Once done, I arrange the accompaniments on the slices of bread with great care, sequence and precision. On the bread, a bed of lettuce, sliced tomatoes, pickled cucumber slices, grated cheese. 

Then I butter the pan again to crack two eggs, one at a time, frying them until they can "fold over easy." Flip them over a couple of times, then I gently lay the hot folded fried egg on the grated cheese allowing the heat to melt the cheese. Then comes the slab of fresh french ham over the freshly fried egg, freshly mixed mustard is applied on the ham, finished with another leaf of lettuce and topped off with the other slice of bread. The bread knife turns the square to triangles. Two squares yield four triangles. Those triangles must have been equilateral because the tastes were finely balanced and equally distributed.

All went into my mouth, down in a flash, like circles disappearing into my belly. I'm a happy puppy. 

I love you. The Invitation #8

 Failure.

 

                I want to know if you can live with failure,

          your and mine,

          and still stand at the edge of the lake

         and shout to the silver of the full moon,

       "Yes!"

"When we cannot live with failure, we limit the intimacy in our lives. People do not tell stories of failure to those who have room in their hearts only for perfection. Tell me a story of failure in your life, a time when you made a mistake. Tell it with compassion for the child or man or woman you were. Tell it with ruthless honesty and gentle acceptance. We do not avoid shame by hiding mistakes. The shame just becomes buried within us.

 

"Shame releases it's paralysing grip on us when we take responsibility for our mistakes and the sometimes serious consequences those mistakes can have for ourselves and others. In this way shame can be our ally, pointing to things we have not accepted about ourselves, and making retribution for these injuries where it is possible. "Forgiveness happens with time, as we learn to live with what cannot be changed. The capacity to live with what is hard is within us. When we can live consciously with the knowledge of what we or others have done, we are freed from the constant, if unconscious effort of trying to pull away from what is.

 

~Oriah Mountain Dreamer

 

I love you. The Invitation #7.

 Beauty. 

Linger a while and you will see so much of it in this chapter.

May I walk with Beauty before me.

May I walk with Beauty behind me.

May I walk with Beauty above me.

May I walk with Beauty below me.

As I walk the Beauty way.

 

~ Navajo prayer

"What is this Beauty that the Navajo seek? It is what pulls us toward life. It is what calls to us when we despair, seduces us into opening again and again to the possibility of love and laughter. It is the physical manifestation of the Mystery- God, Spirit, the Divine- that surrounds and beckons to us every day of our lives. It is life that chooses life. The Navajo prayer expresses our souls' desire to recognise and receive beauty knowing that as we do so we become co-creators of this beauty, of that which urges, "Live."

 

"Seeing beauty is not about narrowing our vision, designating only some of its manifestations as worthy. It means expanding our definition of beauty, suspending our judgements, and appreciating both the quiet joy of riding a bicycle along the lake and the raunchy glee of driving a cherry-red sports car that hugs the open highway. It means accepting the truth of being a middle-aged woman as it is reflected in both the lines and sagging muscles of my face and belly and the shine of my eyes."

 

"Seeing beauty is about broadening our ability to recognise the interconnectedness of all manifestations of life and delighting in how the smells and sounds and tastes and sights that surround us conspire to draw us toward living fully. I want to touch the power of life giving moisture and recognise the smell of the sea where it caresses the shore, in the scent of my sweat, in the salt of my tears, in the slippery wetness that pours from between my soft thighs when I am well loved. I want to focus on my finger tips, on the shape and weight of my hand, on blood and bone and a thousand nerve endings, as I raise an apple to my mouth, let the tip of my tongue slide on the round smooth firmness of the cool surface, and feel the spray of juice as my teeth pierce the skin and enter the crisp flesh inside. I want to taste the weeks of rain and sun, the ripening on the tree, the labour of the farmer and the fruit picker, the journey of the men and women who bring fruit from grove to table. I want to receive the beauty that reminds me that there is no separation- that each act I live while I am fully awake cannot help but be both prayer and lovemaking."

 

~Oriah Mountain Dreamer

"

"

I love you. Joy and Sorrow

 Joy and Sorrow

This gem was gifted from the stars tonight. 

Like music, this perfect piece was delivered with love to give meaning to a joyful and sorrowful life. 

On Joy and Sorrow
Kahlil Gibran - 1883-1931

• 
• 
• 
• 
• 
• 

Then a woman said, Speak to us of Joy and Sorrow.
     
 And he answered:
 
Your joy is your sorrow unmasked.
And the selfsame well from which your laughter rises was oftentimes filled with your tears.
 
And how else can it be?
The deeper that sorrow carves into your being, the more joy you can contain.
Is not the cup that holds your wine the very cup that was burned in the potter’s oven?
And is not the lute that soothes your spirit, the very wood that was hollowed with knives?
     
 
When you are joyous, look deep into your heart and you shall find it is only that which has given you sorrow that is giving you joy.
When you are sorrowful look again in your heart, and you shall see that in truth you are weeping for that which has been your delight.
    
Some of you say, “Joy is greater than sorrow,” and others say, “Nay, sorrow is the greater.”
But I say unto you, they are inseparable.
Together they come, and when one sits alone with you at your board, remember that the other is asleep upon your bed.

Verily you are suspended like scales between your sorrow and your joy.
Only when you are empty are you at standstill and balanced.
          When the treasure-keeper lifts you to weigh his gold and his silver, needs           must your joy or your sorrow rise or fall.

This poem is in the public domain. Published in Poem-a-Day on February 10, 2019, by the Academy of American Poets.

I love you. The Invitation #6.

 Betrayal.

This chapter first point to betrayal of self, but first a reprise;

It doesn't interest me if the story you're telling me is true.

I want to know if you can 

disappoint another

to be true to yourself;

if you can bear the accusations of betrayal

and not betray your own soul;

if you can be faithless

and therefore trustworthy.

Then betrayal of another... 

"It is uncomfortable when someone perceives us as breaking faith with past promises. Yet, if we live fully, it is inevitable that this will sometimes happen, because change is inevitable, and commitments, if they are to remain vital, must be remade and renewed. Often we protect ourselves from the knowledge of broken promises by pretending that nothing has changed."

"These are the choices we make, consciously or unconsciously, and yet ultimately, if we can be still enough with what is, we can find the place the Native American call Chui-ta-ke-ma, the place of choiceless awareness, the place where it is clear which choice is a choice for life, where we can make no other. Sometimes, to choose life, we must break agreements; sometimes we must keep them although they are hard to keep.

 

Tell me, can you do this? Can you make the choice that's for life even when that choice is hard, when doing so means others will see you as faithless? Can you make the choice without putting yourself or the other person- no matter who is the betrayed, who is the betrayer in this moment- out of your heart? This is what I want to know. This is what I want us to learn together, to teach each other in the way we hold each other when the choices are hard."

 

~ Oriah Mountain Dreamer

 

 

 

I love you. The Invitation #5

 The Joy.

This chapter explores joy. And sharing it.

Why is it often hard for us to choose joy, even in moments when there are no painful circumstances in our lives? Sometimes we simply do not know how. Many of our secular rituals of celebration and relaxation involve moving away from what is- numbing out, if only a little, with drugs or alcohol. As one of my students once said, "We don't seem to know very much about how to lighten up without numbing out." Music and dance are obvious exceptions to this, but in our culture we are too often only spectators and not participants in creating and moving to the sound of celebration.

 

I want to cultivate ways of celebrating joy in my life and I want to recognise and savour the moments of joy that come. I want to enjoy the full variety of pleasures life holds, even when some of those joys appear to others to be incompatible and contradictory.

 

"I want to know if you can be with joy

mine or your own,

if you can dance with wildness

and let the ecstasy fill you to the tips of your 

fingers and toes

without cautioning us to be careful

to be realistic

to remember the limitations of being human."

~ Oriah Mountain Dreamer

So get up and dance. 

 

I love you. Cricket Champions.

Champions of the State- TBS U-15 Cricket Team 1973

Tunku Besar Sec. Sch. U-15 Cricket Team
Back: L to R- Sailes, Ban, Gan, Balwant, Wong, Imtiaz, Rahim, Mat, Jeyakumar.
Front: L to R- Jagdish, Haji, Mat, Hari, Zul.

This team was probably the most successful under-15 team in the history of our school to have won a state champions trophy for the first time since the war. 

These are the days my surviving team mates speak of being 'the good old days' today. 

These were the days we wish we could go back to relive the glory and the memories.

But take a look at our faces. Look closely at all our faces. Can you find a really 'happy' face?

No. Not really.

Yet we all proclaim this to be the happiest days of our growing up lives. All of us. 

I wonder why?

I am on a journey to find out. Perhaps we can take a closer look at each one of us and examine our lives a little more in detail. 

Let's start from the back row left, 

Sailes Kumar S Patel, spin bowler & batsman. Son of a Gujerati furniture businessman, came out top student in 5th Form was promptly despatched off to the UK for studies bearing the hopes of his family on his skinny shoulders. He returned and eventually took his father's advice to run the family business. Today he still sits on his successful business in two towns in two states but has eased off to enjoy the gems of his life- his two grand daughters. And his F&B. Smiles a lot now but not then.

Ban Eng Lai, Batsman, bowler. A young novice with talent and height. He's not smiling, he has teeth like that. Probably a successful businessman in Singapore now.

Gan Siong Lim, opening batsman, in-fielder, the Chinese boy with that faraway look in his eyes. In this instance, he's halfway round the world lost in thought, in love or just confused (I was 15 & full of raging hormones). Still pretty much the same today except a little happier. 

Wong Sze Meng, batsman, bowler, completes the trinity of Chinese cricketers in the squad. Rose from humble beginnings to become tallest boy and Head Prefect in 5th Form as well as, you guessed it- Basketball Captain. That's not a smile either. 

Imtiaz Hussein, Captain, batsman, bowler, son of an immigrant Pakistani army tailor from Lahore. Even though he looks dwarfed standing next to tallest boy, he's truly a giant in talent and heart. A good captain and faithful friend. The guy's carrying the Champion's trophy and still has no smile. Now he's the one with the biggest smiles, he has the most number of grandchildren- last count, eleven.

Abdul Rahim Borhan, batsman, out-fielder, our gentle giant can wear the meanest look but has the gentlest heart and a beautiful smile but not here. He succumbed to heart failure several years ago, See, only the good die young.

to be continued...

I love you. The Invitation #4

 The Sorrow.

This chapter begins with;

"EVERY LIFE HAS PAIN AND SORROW in it. It is part of being human.

"...All the while, deep inside, I know what I have always known: that the knowledge will never be enough.

 

This is the secret we keep from ourselves. And the moment it is revealed, we become aware of a need for something else: for the wisdom to live with what we do not know, what we cannot control, what is painful -  and still choose life. Wisdom is often born in the shadows, frequently more visible in the darkness than the light.

 

...We must move into darker places if we are to find the wisdom we so desperately need. We rarely go there willingly, though every life contain its own cycles of grief and celebration. To meet wisdom in these dark places we must be willing and able to hold all of what life gives us, to exclude nothing of ourselves or the world, to tell ourselves the truth. Wisdom will stretch us far beyond where we thought we could or wanted to go. She will show us what we cannot change or control, reveal what is hard to know about ourselves and the world, and tear at the illusions of what we think we know, until we are surrounded by the vastness of the mystery. And all the while, wisdom asks us to choose life. She does not want us to just continue, to hang on, to survive. She asks us to experience life actively, fully, every day - to show up for all of it. 

*At this point, a reprise of a phrase of the poem is in order...

       It doesn't interest me what planets are squaring your moon.

          I want to know if you have touched the center of your own sorrow, 

                 if you have been opened by life's betrayals 

          or have become shrivelled and closed from fear of further pain. 

                    I want to know if you can sit with pain, 

           mine or your own,

                    without moving to hide it

           or fade it

                    or fix it.

 

~ Oriah Mountain Dreamer "

 

I love you. The Invitation #3

 The Fear.

Chapter three talks about the fears we face every day. Apart from death, the only other fear most of us have is the fear of looking like a fool. And looking like a fool stems from not being good enough.

Years ago, a student with chronic fatigue syndrome told me, "I am afraid that if I stop, if I slow down and rest, I'll never amount to anything."

 

I smiled. "What if I told you that everything you are ever going to amount to, you are right now?" 

 

I knew what she had feared, I have done it a thousand times - confused work with accomplishment, frenetic activity with movement, growth, and learning. We are afraid that we will not be enough. All of our deepest desires are our soul's way of calling us back to simply being all of who we are.

 

~ Oriah Mountain Dreamer

     

The worse thing about our fears is that nobody knows it, yet we deny ourselves our desires to avoid looking like fools.

I love you. The Invitation #2

 The Longing.

"It doesn't interest me what you do for a living.

 

I want to know what you ache for,

 

and if you dare to dream of meeting your heart's longing."

         

Chapter two details the heart's longing. The crux of love has always been about deep longings. 

For it is the longing that transcend the physical, the mental into the spiritual realm. 

It is Love Longing for Itself.

"And if  we are to be lovers for the first time or again, after many times, let the lovemaking be filled with shyness and discovery the way it was, or could have been, when we were sixteen: today a kiss that lingers, a touch on the back of my neck that I can feel for hours: tomorrow a light caress across my breast that makes my breath catch. I want to savour each discovery of touch as the infinite unfolding of the other. I want to slow it all down, to wander around wet, aching for what is to come next, so I will know when I have been fully entered, whether by your body, your story, or just simply the moment that passes between us."

        - Oriah Mountain Dreamer

 

 

I love you. The Invitation.

Accepting the Invitation. 

A privilege to start the book, perhaps I shall document excerpts to further internalise my understanding and learning.

The first chapter has many gems and anecdotes. This one paragraph deserves keeping;

"There are a thousand ways to love other people and the world- with our touch, our words, our silences, our work, our presence. I want to love well. This is my hunger. I want to make love to the world by the way I live in it, by the way I am with myself and others every day. So I seek to increase my ability to be with the truth in each moment, to be with what I know, the sweet and the bitter. I want to stay aware of the vastness of what I do not know. This is what brings me to the journey, I do not want to live any other way..."

        ~ Oriah Mountain Dreamer

 

There is much truth, humility and hunger packed into one single paragraph.

I love you. Oriah Mountain Dreamer

The Invitation.

It doesn't interest me what you do for a living.

I want to know what you ache for, and if you dare to dream of meeting your heart's longing.

        It doesn't interest me how old you are. I want to know if you will risk looking like a fool for love, for your dream, for the adventure of being alive. 

        It doesn't interest me what planets are squaring your moon. I want to know if you have touched the center of your own sorrow, if you have been opened by life's betrayals or have become shrivelled and closed from further pain. I want to know if you can sit with pain, mine or your own, without moving to hide it, or fade it or fix it.

        I want to know if you can be with joy, mine or your own, if you can dance with wildness and let the ecstasy fill you to the tips of your fingers and toes without cautioning us to be careful, to be realistic, to remember the limitations of being human.

        It doesn't interest me if the story you are telling me is true. I want to know if you can disappoint another to be true to yourself; if you can bear the accusation of betrayal and not betray your own soul; if you can be faithless and therefore trustworthy.

        I want to know if you can see beauty even when it's not pretty, every day, and if you can source your own life from it's presence.

        I want to know if you can live with failure, yours and mine, and still stand on the edge of the lake and shout to the silver of the moon, "Yes!"

        It doesn't interest me to know where you live or how much money you have. I want to know if you can get up, after the night of grief and despair, weary and bruised to the bone, and do what needs to be done to feed the children.

        It doesn't interest me who you know or how you came to be here. I want to know if you will stand in the center of the fire with me and not shrink back.

        It doesn't interest me where or what or with whom you have studied. I want to know what sustains you, from the inside, when all else falls away.

        I want to know if you can be alone with yourself and if you truly like the company you keep in the empty moments.      

~ by Oriah Mountain Dreamer.

Post-Script* 

This Invitation came to me in 2011 as a poem when we first conducted and played the Samurai Game. 

The profoundness and depth of prose was as incisive as a cut on my heart. It took me ten years to finally accept the invitation. Perhaps it's because the book eventually finds you and not the other way around.

Now I am on the cusp of yet another journey of discovery to see what treasures the book shall impart.

I love you. There is no meaning to life.

What Is The Meaning of Life?

Photo by Ali Gündoğdu on Unsplash

Have you ever pondered this question?

Life has no meaning. The more we think about it the more life has no meaning at all.

There is nothing to do. Nothing to chase. nothing to achieve, nothing to die for if we don't give it any meaning.

Life has no meaning unless we assign it one or two or several. It's all up to us to define our life.

Life has meaning when I can forget myself, to do something to further a cause, or to love another to be more human. 

It starts with being attentive and inclusive to everything and everyone around us. Acknowledging the news vendor, the cleaner, the cashier, a word of hope to a friend who feels down, basically anyone we encounter in our daily life. Helping someone get in better shape, being a good parent, partner, friend, mentoring a child, spending time with the young or the aged. All these give us a purpose to live and they are all grounded in love to have meaning.

Maybe we will find something we are willing to die for, and then we need to live for it.

 

I love you. I don't know.

It is perfectly ok to say. I don't know. 

Photo by Wilhelm Gunkel on Unsplash

Probably the only other "Don't" word in my vocabulary apart from "Don't Worry" is;

"I don't know."

It's probably the most powerful phrase in the universe apart from "I am."

Because following I don't know, comes... But;

I will find out.

I am willing to learn.

I am willing to listen.

I am open to receive.

I am open to experience it.

And when we seek, we shall find.

Also because nature abhors a vacuum.

Only from 'No' thing can 'Some' thing emerge.

Namaste...

I love you. Cucumber Raita

 Channeling my Indian passion.

Some people who know me agree, I was probably an Indian in a past life.

Today I'd like to share my cucumber raita recipe with you. Why? Because this time I think I've made it very close to a fine composition of ingredients with an equally fine balance of tastes. 

A Raita is made as a side dish or a dip, like revenge, it's best served cold. 

As an accompaniment to hot spicy Indian creations. For me it's to compliment and enhance vada or lentil fritters/doughnuts. Already a spicy & savoury creation, the simplicity of this Indian tea-time treat is healthy vegan and absolutely delicious! 

So my raita preparation is to raise the umami levels of vada up a few notches. 

Here's what goes into my version of raita;

Ingredients

- Cucumber, less than a third of a stick.

- Onion, less than a third of a bulb.

- Green chili padi kampung, less than a third of a handful.

- Yoghurt, less than a third of a cup

- Salt 

- Black Pepper

- Lemon juice

- Lemon zest

Preparation

1. Dice and finely mince cucumber & onions in fine cubes.

2. Slice green chilis padi as fine as possible. Kampung chili padi preferred.

3. Pour all into a mixing bowl with yoghurt, add a splash of water and mix thoroughly.

4. Add salt & pepper to taste.

5. Then squeeze in juice of less than one third of a lemon. Refrigerate.

6. Serve when cold with lemon zest topping.

Enjoy!

Too complicated? Drop by one day and perhaps you're lucky enough to share some with me. It's gotta be tea time though.

Then we Celebrate!

I love you. Tropical Trees.

 A Walk in The Park on a Sunday Afternoon.

Last Sunday I took a walk in honour of Hypertension & Gout Awareness month. 

I was walking for my brother who has been a long sufferer of Gout. 

The Zoom walk with friends who attended from parts of the world took all of 20 minutes. It was a fun maiden 'zoom' walk for our startup and very heartening to feel the love from my family & friends.

My local team mate and his daughter were too exhausted to carry on so I continued my walk under the canopy of the tall tropical giants. It was a blazing afternoon but the spread of foliage from the numerous trees provided me cool comfort.

Though it was a hot afternoon, it was so cooling in some parts that moss grew in abundance under the Ficus and Tembusu trees. I couldn't resist, I promptly plonked my sweaty butt on the soft & spongy, cool carpet of green. I sat on the moss, kicked off my shoes and my inhibitions, remained very still for what seemed to be the entire afternoon. Apart from the trees, I had the magpies, the butterflies, the squirrels and the monitor lizards for company.

Soon it was time to leave, reluctantly I lingered around and walked on to the other end just to visit and pay homage to more ancient trees. As I frolicked among the trees one last time, the thought hit me again, the same though I had each time I walk the parks or forests.  

Wouldn't it be nice if we had all the names of the trees in the park proudly displayed on their trunks instead of just letters & numbers on a tag?  

I know for a fact that every tree just, like every person has a name. 

Can you imagine how the trees will feel to have their names proudly displayed for all to see?

Besides, what's worse than a horse with no name?

Walk On.

I love you. May all your dreams...

 My Wish For You; May All Your Dreams Not Come True.  

Photo by Ryan Hutton on Unsplash

I say this in all good faith and in all honesty. 

If all your dreams and wishes came true you wouldn't be able to live with yourself. 

Think of all the times when your dreams were just passing fancies or unrealistic cravings that even you'd be happy they didn't materialise. 

The other problem with dreams or goals is that they are based on accumulated memory. They may be situations or things you have seen, experienced or dreamt about. They are expectations based on known outcomes. The trouble with expectations is that things will never turn out exactly the way you expect.

They actually turn out better than your expectations. 

Except we don't notice them because we are too busy expecting a different outcome. Wanting to repeat a past experience and totally missing out on the reality of an even better dream coming true. Dreams never seen or experienced before.

So have no dreams or expectations, live life one day at a time with no expectations of fixed outcomes. 

Be fully conscious of all the little ordinary miracles happening around you everyday. 

Then maybe you will see that your life's desires are coming true beyond your wildest imagination.