Looking Inside

Its been so long since I last posted. Ironically, after my exams, having more time away from my computer means I have less time to blog. And man... so now eric has inadvertently become one of the select few with access to my blog. All because of an oversight when I posted a comment on his blog. Ah well. He's well familiar with my whinings anyway. And after all, now he knows what to get me for X'mas, when he's back. Grins.

Its curious, how much one's tone can change so many times over a week. How much one's mood can be affected by the slightest thing that happens, or even the slightest thing that fails to happen. As predicted, the period following my exams has been one huge anti-climax. My relief cannot be complete without the actual release of my results, which will either affirm my relief at the end of my NUS ordeal, or signal the start of my life as fish food.

But seriously, even as throughout the whole week I swing between my polemic moods - one minute feeling the deepest anguish and despair at failing to make anything of my life at 25 yrs' old (which is severely augmented by my equally paranoid fears that I'm still gonna fail this sem), and also the optimism that shrugs iff the wasted yeas, and welcome the new phase in my life, come what may (read - still, the fear of failing seeps through. Only this time, I take it in my stride).

But it is indeed a real worry, and a real source of my perpetual despondence - the feeling that all those promises that I showed as a teen are irretrievably lost. Growing up in a family that has always placed a very high premium on achievements, the approach of X'mas and New Yr inevitably brings on an imminent sense of dread, that its time yet again to face all my relatives with theier over-achieving sons and daughters. Don't get me wrong - I'm terribly proud of my couins' achievemnts, and couldn't be ahppier for them. but when the spotlight gets trained on me, and the pressure is on for me to present my show-and-tell of my accomplishments, it is particularly hard to feel that I've let my parents down. And I guess at the root of it, that's what hurts the most.

I have absolutely no ambitions. Given my way, I don't mind being one of those dear waiters I see in restaurants, that have worked there their entire lives, from the time they were 20 till they retire at 50. Those dear old men who recount to you how times have changed from the times since they started work there in their youth, and how they continue to serve you with a dignified pride in their job. Yet somehow I get the feeling that would profoundly disappoint my family. Not to mention my friends, and even myself. And somehow I've even come to think I shd make more out of my life.

Yet in those moments between lucidity of thought, and pure unadulterated madness, I struggle with the notion of making something out of my life. Isn't what I do for the kingdom of God what really counts? Isn't the minding of where I end up on the ladder of social status quo merely materialism neatly packaged up as pratical and good common sense? And so on days of lucidity I can resolve these thoughts, only to be plunged back into madness moments later. (Them blasted mood swings that never seem to stop.)

Its been a melancholic few days. And its really silly. From watching CSI, and the rather depressing episodes nowof Grissom's team being torn apart, to The West Wing where Leo's heart attack leaves Barlett even more isolated than ever - augmented by his paralysis from MS and his staff that are slowly learning to move on from the Bartlett administration. Then there's the whole series of Agatha Christie's Hercule Poirot novels, right up to the last one where he dies... this wierd confluence of materials have left me in a curiously disheartened state.

Add on to the fact that Chen Mu Shi is leaving... the idea is finally sinking in. The dear dear old reverend that has held me in his arms when I was a baby, and baptized me... confirmed me 18 yrs later... and who has always been a mainstay in the church I grew up in... and always was someone who embodied the life I ought to be living... he was going to be gone for good. Short of being at his funeral, this was as final a frewell as it would ever be. He's gonna retire from this church, start attending service at another church... and I can see how in the hustle and bustle of a new leadership as well as the struggles of going independent, he will quickly become a forgotten figure of the past, fondly remembered on occasions.

Its just so poignant of Moses... leading the Israelites for 40 yrs... only to be denied the Promised Land at the final step of the journey. He has led us ths far in our church... and yet he has to leave just when his dream has finally been realised, of seeing this church take on yet another milestone. Even as he embraked on his series of farewell messages these 4 weeks, his voice was evidently breaking on the pulpit, as he shared of his deep love for the church, for us, and the reluctance of his leaving. And it suddenly hit me just how much I'm going to miss him.

Its really funny. I probably have spoken less than an hr's worth of conversations with him in thye past 25 yrs of my life. Yet in his departure, the void left by his absence is such a tangible one. I guess I could shrug it off as one of those sentimental moments that I tend to bring on... yet at the same time is also the feeling that this is because he has truly been one of the living spiritual giants that I've had the privilege of being shepherded by, and his absence is tangible because he takes with him when he leaves, the spiritual presence that has come to be an almost tangible presence around him. The prayers that has been accumulated over 28 yrs on behalf of the church, the sweat, the toil, the heart of servant-hood... With all due respects to the new leadership... losing him will always represent an incalculable loss.

Watched Love Me If you Dare finally, a while ago. And I finally understood why Paul was raving abt the movie. It really is a poignant and very incisive narrative of how we hurt those we love, and can only be hurt by those we love. Yet there is something in the show that the hopeless romantic will always be enchanted by, the notion of a love so strong that it can stand 30 yrs of hurts and distance. Also watched Look At Me, another french film. I think both are so powerful at narrating the interraction between pple of all sorts, from the rich and beautiful the poor and unsuccessful... and how inevitably its so funny that we still end up grappling with exactly the same inadequacies and insecurities.

I think that's enough emotional diarrhea for tonight. Time I try to catch some sleep.