exercising my literacy: February 2005

Saturday, February 26, 2005

Falling not that far from the tree after all.

Just a quick post, before this thought slips from my mind (my memory's getting despicably awful lately but I'll leave that for another time... if I remember to bring it up again haha).

Mum's roped me into proofreading her PhD thesis. She even gave me a deadline -- I have 8 more chapters to read before the end of this month (i.e. the next 48 hours). Despite having a gazillion degrees and thus having written a million assignments/theses, this is the first time that my mum's asked me to read anything of hers. So it's kind of an interesting read... not the subject matter of her thesis, but to see the way my mum writes, the words she chooses to structure an argument, to see her train of logical thought etc.

And you know what? I think I know where I get my argumentative side from now.

That might not sound like a big deal to you but it's a huge revelation to me. One, because I have always thought that me and Mum are different as night and day. Two, because Mum never helped me with my English when I was at school or anything like that, so it's not like she imparted her way of writing to me. Three, I've never read anything of Mum's prior to this so it's not like I've been influenced by her work.

The thought that Mum gave me a part of the way I am without her ever instilling it into me... that it occurs so innately and inherently, as if written in my gene code... that's a pretty cool revelation to me.

Wednesday, February 23, 2005

Swing, swang, swung.

Some days I think that maybe (excuse the melodrama) life is passing me by.

I was saying to someone that I couldn't wait until my holiday break in March, when everything would be over and I can finally breathe a little easier. I say stuff like that all the time. Then I realised, hey, I say stuff like this all the time! Isn't there something wrong here? Why am I always living to "get through" the present time, rather than enjoying the here and now? I'll bet that come end March I'll be just as stressed with something (plural) else. So in March I'll be saying, man I can't wait until April etc etc.

I feel a little like a monkey who swings from one branch to another to another, always hoping that a solid landing lies at the other end, only to find nothing except another rope by which I must swing to in order to stay buoyant.

I don't want to keep wishing for time to be fastforwarded. I want to be thankful for the days that I'm given, rather than get up every morning and think, oh man, can't wait til this day is over -- as I felt today at the prospect of a full day of hospital and a full night of work (and yes I'm still typing away now at 12am... I don't think I have a Circadian rhythm anymore...).

I don't want to keep swinging on and on only to one day realise that it doesn't lead anywhere; or that I'm too old, lost all olfactory sense, and thus could no longer smell the flowers even if I stopped or however that cliche goes.

Holy schmoly is this what people with mid-life crises feel like?

Saturday, February 19, 2005

A year on.

Today I bring you cold chrysanthemums,
white as absence, long-stemmed as my grief.
I stand before your grave, a few unfallen
leaves overhead, the sucking mud beneath.

What survives best are chrysanthemums
in a month which arrives austere as grief.
The hearty blossoms persevere, unfallen.
Suffering even snow, they flourish beneath.

You walked in mornings among chrysanthemums,
and bowed to them as if to hear their grief.
Your sleeves grew damp from brushing unfallen
dew. A drop lay by your eye, and one beneath.

Truest to your nature were chrysanthemums,
brilliant while first snows descended like grief.
You watched them from your bed, your heart unfallen,
steadfast through winter, and then you slipped beneath.

What is it they told you, once, the chrysanthemums?
It made you sigh, Ah, Grief!
Who savours you more than us, the unfallen,
long after we've forgotten the fallen beneath?

(Between Seasons, by Li-Young Lee)

Friday, February 11, 2005

If you have nothing nice to say...

A little antedotal sharing of two recent encounters.

A few weeks ago, a friend of mine calls me up and says if we could chat. It turns out that I had inadvertently said something to him earlier that day which deeply upsetted him. What deeply freaked me out was the fact that he sounded like he was crying. And what I'd said to him, I say all the time to lots of people.

This week, I was the crier. One of the consultants told me off, which isn't that unusual, but the way he did it... I felt so intimidated and humiliated, it was like being dragged into the principal's office. What's worse was that it felt so unfair because I had no control over what he was yelling at me for. When I left his rooms I just lost it. You know sometimes you really don't want to cry but tears come up anyway? Well it was like that. I got so angry at myself, for "admitting defeat" in letting him get to me when I knew I didn't do anything wrong.

But as I was walking back to the hospital, I was thinking, I'll bet that as soon as I left his rooms, what he said to me would totally escape his mind. Meanwhile, I thought and re-thought about the incident for the rest of the day. When I get told off or criticised, usually the words stay with me for a long time -- I keep thinking about the validity of their accusations, and feel really bad for being in trouble, etc.

But how easily we dish out harmful words. I thought back to the incident I mentioned before with my friend -- when he called I didn't even remember what I said to him that was so terrible, he had to retell the whole story before I even had any recollection of it happening. But it affected him so much. All I could do was to apologise profusely and assert that I really didn't mean it in that way, that it was all supposed to be in jest.

I really need to learn to be careful with my words, because I never know how much someone may take my careless words to heart. Jokes, digs at each other, negative comments, accusations and criticisms, bitching and complaining. And on the flipside, I need to learn to be more thick-skinned, and to realise that sometimes people don't realise the potency or impact of their words. To not let what they say shake me up.

Some days I just wish I stayed in bed.

Wednesday, February 02, 2005

The Emperor's New Book.

I just finished reading the Da Vinci Code. I've been meaning to read it for a while now, simply because of the number of people coming up and asking me about what I thought about it all, especially with regards to the claims it makes about the "truth" behind Christianity.

Sorry, this isn't going to be a post about all the flaws that are in the book. If you really want to know what is true and what is false, go and read one of the many books that have been written in response to the book.

My suspicion though, is that you won't be bothered to.

And that's what I really want to post about.

As I read through the book, I have to tell you, I got sucked into believing the stuff that was in there. At one point I actually stopped and thought, hey wait a minute! I have to give Dan Brown full credit for his cunning technique in swirling fact with fiction, narrated with such authority that discriminating between the two becomes almost impossible. We as readers are crippled by unfamiliarity of the subjects discussed (Opus Dei, the Crusades, Da Vinci, Roman Empire history), such that we sheepishly accept what is being told as plausible, and eventually, as fact.

After reading the book, it began to occur to me what was really happening. I believe Dan Brown is almost mocking society as a whole -- some of the things he mentions in the book are not even close to being true -- but he boldly tells these fibs anyway because he knows most people out there would not know any better. It's as though he makes up deliriously untrue statements to see just how much he can get away with, to demonstrate just how ignorant society is about art, architecture, history and religion. I can just imagine him cacking himself silly when interviewers actually ask him if what he's written in the book is factual and historical.

And you know what, he's absolutely right.

From reading the book, and observing the reactions of people who have read it, I can see how easily society can be manipulated to believe whatever we want them to believe. In exploiting people's ignorance, we are devoid of any weapons of discrimination to discern what is true and what is not. And, in a manner dangerously reminiscent of the children's tale, "The Emperor's New Clothes", we end up believing something that is absurdly untrue.

That this can occur in a supposed "educated era", and that a mere book can stir such controversy in so many religious arenas only reiterates the power derivable from ignorance.

But despite all that I've said, I know ignorance will prevail. Why? Because our attention spans last little longer than that of a goldfish -- we get bored and move on. And more significantly, we don't give a crap because we can't see how it is relevant to us. If I can't see how it will affect me and my life, then obviously it's not important enough to know about.

I don't really know what the solution is. It is impossible to know everything about everything; and there are certainly other things we have to tend to other than an endless endeavour of past history. But at the same time, it scares me how easily we can be conned to believing a pack of lies. This book certainly showed a huge blind spot in society.

But may I say one last thing: Jesus is more relevant to your life than you will ever know. Present tense. Be bothered to find Him out...

exercising my literacy