My Secrets*

I was randomly browsing through the worldwideweb today, and stumbled upon this brilliant, brilliant essay, written by I think, a student from Yale: Lydia Martin. Her prose is unlike most of what I've ever come across. And right now, I'd kill to be able to write like her. She captures so beautifully what is in my heart.

So because I happen to be a graduate of law, and I don't want no copyrights claim coming at me, please note my disclaimer of what I will be quoting below. It is fully the work of Lydia Martin, including the starred title of this blogpost, and fully, all credits go to her.

Below I quote several parts of her essay that I love the most. I hope it will inspire anyone reading, like it did me. Read this while listening to Ben Jorgensen's 'Only Just a Memory'. Perfection has never felt so close to me.

"My Secrets"

"I walk off the subway. Cars, people, ambitions charge by. City thrashes without hesitation or apology. No stillness. No pause. People do not see where they are.
...

Just one second and the door closes. Eyes and ears shut. I am alone again. City melts, and questions quietly float away....With silence around, I can breathe again.

...
I flip the pages of her essay. She may pretend it is not linear, but there are still lines to be read.
...

I live only in me, and am surprised that others cannot see inside. Face wiped clean. Sweaters oversized. Everyone else tan and skin-tight. ...Our barriers are more real to me than our connections....I do not value your gossip....I refuse to play the game, and so cannot mind that you pick me last.
...
...I beam from everywhere. The happiness is shared, created by two. Smiles can now be spoken. They burst out. Forget stillness. I want to dance.

Knowledge and work and people who think like me. We were not the most popular, the most beautiful, the most likely to win. We lived inside, working to create the people we wanted to be. Against the bidding of others. And we survived.
...
Scents in my nose, swinging emotions in my gut. Lost on your ears.

A story is told as much by silence and by speech.

...
You and I are disparate. Our thoughts disagree....Even facts are false, filtered by the minds and mouths of informants.
...
Like the concentration camps he commands, in many ways he remains absent to himself.

...
I cannot be tied to others' happiness. I coil away to protect both of us. Before taught me to be on my own, and now is letting my enjoy it.
...
Maybe I am a complex web of confusion, in need of a storyteller who can figure me out.
...
But this diminishes reality. ...sewing together fragments, forgetting that the spaces between the pieces are more important than the rest.
...
Griffin, do not sew me together to create a sensible figure, worthy of understanding. You cannot capture me and keep me whole. You cannot make me frown and then tell me to smile. You cannot demand my secrets and then fill in the holes with your own. I am neither linear nor explicable.
...

Like the white spaces in an etching, such silences render form. But unlike an etching in which the whole is grasped at once the silence of a story must be understood over time.

I am a woman on the desert island, deciding to stay in the sand. I am Himmler keeping my secrets inside. I am Griffin begging for them to be heard. I am neither of them and none of you. If you were to tell my story, you would get it wrong. Don't classify my actions, nor interpret my notes. Life is known only from the inside.

No, I cannot share my secrets." - Lydia Martin, English 114: Writing Seminars 1

Just Press Delete

It was hard. It was necessary. I debated whether I should do it, and in the end I decided to go for it. To keep it there would only serve to constantly be a ringer for what I don't want to remember. In the end you can only trust so much. In the end you can only hurt so much. Before you crack.

And I have cracked.

So I reacted. And I pressed 'delete'. "Are you sure?" the screen prompted me.

I did not hesitate to press down 'yes'.

Keep Me Caged and I'll Break Free

Abuse a person's body and they will suffer but still be alive.
Abuse a person's mind and they will one day end up useless and yet still alive.
But abuse a person's spirit and they will breathe still but not live, for in truth they will have died.- H.A.

Wrap Me in a Straitjacket So I'll Shut Up

This has not been a very good week for me. Too many papers equals to too many headaches.

And just when I thought that that's the end of it, I am told that there is more to come. I thought, why not just murder me and have done with it? *wry look*

We still await delivery, and I have my work cut out for me. And I've neglected to wear my glasses when I'm in front of the computer that my eyes have been hurting like mad since Wednesday. So I've been wearing it for two days straight.

I'm not sure if it's anything from my brain - I really hope it isn't. Currently I'm putting the blame on not enough rest and sleep. But I'll know for sure next year when I have it scanned again.

All the while - I remind myself to breathe.

Balancing steps on Unbalanced Wheels

Sometimes, I wonder whether I truly have a good head on my shoulders, and an equally good heart inside my ribs. I seem to be…a bit too spiteful at times. Of course, this statement naturally implies that for all the other times that I am merely spiteful, it is OK? I would resent this interpretation, because I think the more apt understanding is that I am simply responding, to the evil that gets me.

Someone told me that they wished I could be more peaceful in the future. I took that to mean, more peaceful with myself, with people, with the world in general. I thought it was, and is, a good wish – one that I thank the wisher for being so thoughtful to think of it. Because if I look down at the depths of my soul, I know that I am not content. And maybe this atones for my sourly disposition which I exhibit to the world at large sometimes. Mind you, please do not misunderstand this to mean that I am an angry person always – but it does mean that I can, at times, be a real bitch. And I link this to the proposition I put up earlier, that what I am doing – is being responsive.

The reason why I, primarily, disagree with the implication of me being too spiteful as a person, or that I am perpetually angry, is because it is an inherent action resulting from my human nature. I think anyone who has had bad things happen to them, would naturally respond to it – and the only question is whether one responds positively, or negatively. Frankly, I believe most do the latter, because most humans are not capable of saintly attitudes that creates the former’s more sunnier disposition. Most humans are selfish. That includes myself I’m afraid.

To elaborate – if someone comes up to you and insults you, or take the mickey out of your religious beliefs, or tell people completely horrendous things about you which are not truthful and based solely on their own self-centered beliefs – do you honestly expect yourself to be able to only smile and not feel an ounce of anger? That you would not be driven to curse them or feel like knocking on their heads with a bat and shout ‘Wake up!’?

I think, that that is an impossible feat. And that even if you do manage to smile, you do so only after you quell your ‘evil’ thoughts down and convince yourself that you are far better than this, that it is not worthy to respond to it. You would be right on this last bit here however – this I don’t dispute. But again, to emphasize, I have a problem with the idea that one is expected to simply not feel, or not feel anything in response. It’s like an action and reaction thing – you do something, and you get another thing as a result. And that, is what I have been, and am, doing: reacting.

Clearly I would be biased on my own behalf and believe that my reaction is entirely reasonable, within character, and not ‘wrong’. But people tend to act or react only as far as their knowledge stretches. They are incapable of seeing beyond that sphere, and look deeper as to fathom what is actually the truth.

If that is all I am capable of, I will accept that. Because I am no saint. My patience does have a limit, and I have reached it. I am only human. And certainly it is not an excuse – rather, an understanding or explanation of why I behave like so. If people choose to believe that I am wrong, or they decide to characterize my actions as evil, vengeful, and whatever else – so be it. Because I have lost all care for their opinion.

In connection with this, a question vitriolically put to me a while ago makes perfect sense: ‘What importance is it to you?’. Another meaning is: ‘Why does it matter?’ or ‘Why do you care?’

The bottom line the person was trying to deliver to me is that it is not my business.

At the time, I was upset when he said it to me. No, the better word would be that I was offended. Very much. The first thing that I felt like saying was, “Fuck You.” I thought, how dare he say it to me?

He completely ruined my mood let me tell you that.

Now however, I know that he was, and is, absolutely right. I shouldn’t care about what people think. I shouldn’t let it affect my mood, my life – not even so much, but not at all. I should be able to live, without having to second-thought my actions so as to make sure that it would not be disapproved. Because I should not live for their approval. I should not live for anyone’s approval, but my own.

Again this is not to say that for all instances I should have no regard for propriety and everything else – but that save for that and that alone, I really should not care. And I should not make it my business to care. Will this mean that I don’t, in fact, have a good head on my shoulders, and an equally good heart inside my ribs? Or that indeed, I am spiteful at times? Well fuck that.

Why? Because only then will I be able to be truly content with myself. And that is the ultimate happiness that any human can get in this life.

Fall down and Get Back Up Again

This post is long overdue. I had planned to blog about this as soon as I came back from my trip to Hong Kong in the second week of March, but things caught up with me. Naturally, I put this to the side, pended it, was mad because I couldn't write about it soon enough, and 'tis now nearing the end of the month already and I've just had the time to spare myself a little space to breathe and write.

If you are a frequent reader of this blog - which I doubt anyone is since not many know of this bit of virtual space I use to vent, but if you do happen to stumble upon it, you're no stranger to the fact that I often write about life. Specifically - I reflect on the on-goings in my life.

Approximately six months ago, I was asked to coach a team. This team, as it will participate in an event where the participants in each team is limited to the most minimum of people, would only consist of three people. In other words, I would not be coaching a large team like usual, but a rather medium sized one, and in the midst of my work, should be manageable.
So it was on this basis that I took up the job.

We held out the internal selection at the Faculty to choose the students who will make up the team. And three were selected, all from different batches. Two boys, and a girl.
At first sight, they do not make up what you would by instinct view as a formidable team. One of them, not only has the appearance of veritable youth but certainly employs the characteristics that is often seen from one still so young. One other upon first impression would seem to be all serious and capable, hiding his true nature as that of a laid-back person and very much capable of mischievous pranks. And the girl, sophisticated looking but seems to be unsure of herself when talking.

Certainly a unique team these three people make.

I always made it a point that when I coach, my ultimate goal is not to win, or be number one, or anything ambitious in such likes. My goal is always, for nothing but the students in the team, to learn. And that they would enjoy learning with each other, learning what they learn in the period of six months, that they feel and think of it as a fun activity, pressure-less, and most importantly, that they actually like what they do.

The reason is because I've been in their position - all I wanted, was to learn, and what I received instead, was pressure. I hated it. Now I am not saying that pressure was all that I received, I certainly did learn a lot also from the process, but I have always felt that, if I could feel like it is fun, it would make the entire thing more bearable.

So I made a vow to myself, that if I ever do find myself in the position of a coach, that I would not, that I would never, make it a point to be ambitious. It throws everything off-balance.
It doesn't matter if we don't get a standing ovation. Or loud applauds. Because at the end of the day, the price of that is too much to bear. And I don't wish that on anyone that I coach.

If we do manage, by some lucky shot or blessing from God to receive a most treasured gift, then we will be thankful, and praise Him for thinking us worthy enough to receive it.

Six months past then, I set out in yet another coaching venture.

I had absolutely no idea what to expect. I didn't know any of these people. They seem to be of a different sort than I usually coach, and as usual, I was hesitant of myself on what to do. In the end, I decided to go by my gut instincts, and just to go with it.

It turns out, that I was the one being coached by these three very remarkable people. :)

I honestly feel, that at the end of this six months, I am the one who has learned a lot, and the one grateful for the gift of time of being with them.

Certainly we had our ups and downs - times where I'd feel so frustrated and at my wit's ends, not knowing how else to deliver my message to some or all of them. Times where I thought I was doing such a lacking job on all three of them because of my inability to balance my time well in the middle of everything else I do, including work. Times where mistakes were repeated and not learned. So I am not saying that I had a perfect time.

But what I did have, is indubitably, the best of times.

One of them taught me not be so serious all the time, and challenged me to see the proper weight of everything. That it is OK to be mad. And to relax.

Another made me realize that I need to be more watchful of myself, and to not forget to reflect, on promises that I made. Because I may not always deliver, even though I badly wanted to.

And another made me learn to always place common sense in its rightful place. That everything is only everything, because I make it so. That everything can become nothing, if I make it so. And he made me better see the black in the white, and likewise, the white that is in all the black.

The night that the journey finally ended for us, I asked them all to evaluate and reflect back - and to give me feedback, so I know that if I ever do take this position up again (which I doubt very much I'd be able to do), I know what not to do and what to do.

I am most thankful, to know that they had grown to love the team, and each other. That they had truly enjoyed being with the team, that we can all look back on this with laughter and tears in our eyes, because of the treasured memories. The fact that they were not working very well in the beginning as a team, where one of them hated the other and that that feeling was mutual, but they were able to look beyond themselves and evolved into - in my belief - is the best team I have ever seen.

There were those that looked down upon them of course. Those who believed they 'sucked'. And other thoughts.

Whether those beliefs and thoughts are correct, would again depend on one's own definition of what makes up a good team. The answers would vary.

But if anyone asks me, I would say - if there is one team you should learn from, it is them.

*dedicated to three unique, gifted and special individuals: Nic, Gan, and Marsh.

Shut Your Eyes Close

Shut your eyes close, sometimes it's the only way to see
When all else seems to fail and leave you hollow and empty
Shut your ears out, sometimes it's the only way to hear
When all the voices are but painful screams that you do not need, here

and once everything slowly calms
once the storm betrays its axis,
I'll finally quit spinning around...
and once the wheels of time unfreeze
maybe then I'll get to breathe
and see without tunnel vision smoking my way through.

The air is thick with tension and
pressurized moments seconds away from explosion
and results beyond control
The vertical line is diagonal
and the patches of grass is rudimentary to
my keeping a firm stand

but once the earthquake empty out
all the sins that were cast without shame
would I be brave enough to admit blame?
and once the wheels of time unfreeze
can my hopes be something more than its extent?
I am thirsty to breathe clearly
all the confusion you pollute suffocate me.

so stop me not from shutting my lids close
this may be one of those times I can only see
without the influence of others corrupting me.