Tuesday, August 29, 2006

Elightenment Anyone?

Zen hotch-potch. Candle-flickering, hippie-chanting, lotus-seated daydreaming. The concept of enlightenment was to me, a Buddhist buzzword that had long left its influence under the Banyan tree and slid off my thick urban dwelling, corporate/social ladder climbing, numb neuron skin that proudly bore the word 'Indifference' tatooed over my third eye.

Like many aspects in my life, I stumbled on my journey to the door, that marks the road, that leads to the gates, that opens to the path to Enlightenment. In short, I arrived at this twinkling of awareness outside my teeny weeny world of existence by taking a 'wrong' turn somewhere upstream. And secondly, my awareness is only just the top of the iceberg. There are such depths to discover before reaching the tip of consciousness.

The funny thing is that epiphanies, for want of a better word, always seem to lurk up on you. It's like falling in love. There is always talk of the earth moving but more than likely, it's a dawning or slow realisation.

For me, being aware of my role in the universe has always been a bit vague. Like many I sat through half awake in science class as the teacher droned on about the earth and the planets and all in between. And the times when there's been nothing on Star World and the voice over in the Discovery Channel narrated about energy matters. All that may have filtered sub- counsciously into my brain but there was never any Realisation on my part. I never once sat up and said "Really? Wow!"

I have never had a light switch on in my heart, the seat of my soul. To truly awaken? No. Not me. That was stuff for others - for the spiritually attuned. Me? I don't even feel hunger - I just eat when the clock tells me to.

So it was a little bit of a surprise when I sat through a presentation by a professor from RMIT last week and everything that he told me and showed me on his powerpoint just made so much sense. I discovered myself nodding as he spoke and excitement grow in my chest as if I had just discovered a new scientific theory that would be named after me. The piece fit in the puzzle, the coin dropped, I heard the click. It all seemed so logical, so simple that I was amazed that I had never made the connections before.

Of course, he went in to so much more. But the crux is this: We are all part of the universe as energy matters floating about. What comes through our body - water, food, thoughts, emotions - come out as energy also - albeit in different forms - whether its waste, neagtive emotion, happy emotion, whatever. When we die, we transform into energy of another sort but we still maintain as part of the universe. Our actions create a cause and effect on our universe - meaning what we do will end up affecting us in turn.

In turn, this leads to a responsibility. A responsibility that what we do, how we feel, and how we live our lives will ultimately affect the balance of the universe. Whether we lead loving lives filled with positivity, or whether we eat meat and fuel the engine of battery farms, whether we meditate and walk around balanced - all aspects of our existence, from the very micro functions of our bodies to the very macro of how we want to live, is a reponsibility. Its a responsibility to our Creator (if you believe in one), to Mother Earth (if you believe in her), to the energies that share this universe with us. Also a responsibility to our Ego, our sense of self.

Just realising that alone blew my mind away. As I said before, it's nothing new- I'm not declaring anything that we all haven't heard at some point or another. But I guess, when you are ready to accept something, the answers will come. So life will continue to take you on its merry go round of ups and downs, and you may live several chapters of your life before things mean something eventually. Whether you're 18 or 80.

And that was when I realised that I had always asked myself these questions, that I had always known certain things. That I am not spiritually inept after all. The blockage lay in the fact that I never listened. Or if I had, I never acknowledged that I knew.

Isn't there some theory that all babies are born knowing? Just that over time, we forget and numb ourselves. Fade out what we know and depend on modernities to do the thinking ad answering for us.

And in a slow dawning, I realised that my spiritutal self, my soul, has always been around and not fast asleep or numbed by alcohol as I had always thought it was.

Tuesday, August 08, 2006


Drowning...glup, glup, glup...

Thursday, August 03, 2006


The short story - some loved it, some didn't get it. Someone said it was scary.

I repeat that I'm not a fan of horror but I think there is fun to be had in scaring others. Here's an attempt to do so. I think I was successful - I managed to scare myself with my own writing.

Mary Jane’s Shoes

Her red, red hair trailed behind her like the coloured streamers of a pom pom in mid celebration. She flew higher into the air. Up, up, up, the swing carried her.

Shrieks of laughter erupted as her white chubby thighs wobbled, her polka dotted skirt flapping up and down in sync with the motion of the swing. Shoes were kicked off gaily in upswing - red little jellies that sparkled like rubies in the sun landing at the edge of the garden where the mowed lawn ended and the great redwoods began.

She leaned her weight back so that her hair swept the ground like a broom. Knuckles white as she clutched the yellow painted metal chain that kept her head from scraping the bottom.

“Mommy! Mommy”, she laughed “Look at me!”

“Mary Jane!” Mommy answered from inside the candy-blue house. “Come in and wash your hands at once!”

Mary Jane, obedient to the very fibre of the silk ribbons in her hair waited slowly for the swing to slow its dance and before she herself danced into the house. Humming Pat A Cake as she went.

From beyond the trees, it watched silently with ragged breath. For that was what it had become. The soil underneath escaping with each rushed exhale.

It watched as the noises from the house receded, as Mary Jane washed her snowy white hands under the dripping tap in the bathroom at the front of the house. It reached out for the left sandal and slowly pulled it into the woods.

“Mary Jane! Where are your shoes?”

Mommy’s holler rang out loud and clear in the open as white fluffy slippers shuffled around the slabs that held the swing in place.

Mutterings and a big sigh and Mommy disappeared into the house again. Mission unaccomplished.

The house fell silent again. A cloven hoof closed over the right shoe and pulled it into the ominous blackness, its pink laces clutching desperately at each blade of grass as it trailed past in graceful finale.

Wednesday, August 02, 2006

Literary Update

I know I blog alot about love affairs and relationships but in reality, my life cannot be further from those subjects. Most people think I am elusive (ie. away from the 'scene') because they think I'm caught up with some bloke. Honestly, it cannot be further from the truth.

My days lately are overflowing with so much that I often find myself muttering about the lack of hours in a day. When a friend asks you out for lunch and the earliest you can plan for is mid-September, the term 'bogged down' is an understatement.

Life is Zhiwei, work, climbing, work, Zhiwei, climbing. And as of last week - reading also. If you haven't been, GO. The sale is on at The Big Bookshop on the 1st floor of Wisma Atria in Damansara Utama. Rows and rows of fiction, management books, kids activity and story books, stationery, toys, cookbooks...blah blah blah. Put it this way, if you have been starved of input and wish to make more sense in your output, here's a good place to start.

I walked up to the counter to pay. The cashier picked a book from my mountain of books and appeared confused, his forehead furrowing with lines. "RM39.90? So expensive?", he muttered to himself. He went to check the price and came back with an smile. He punched the price into the register. RM8.00.

Enough said.

I spent precious work time on Saturday in bed, on the sofa, at the dining table reading feverishly. I consumed 2 books in one day, and am still left parched for more.

I discovered Tom Robbins and am reeling. How come I have never read his work before? My God this man writes the way The Doors plays music. It's provoking, mind-blowing and God, is it sexy! I love intelligent men and I love it when they show it off! When I grow up, this is how I want to write. Tom Robbins is my American Idol. Ducks Flying Backwards is a collection of short stories, interviews, reviews, snippets of stuff he has written over the years. I am keen to have a go at his novels - I wonder what his plots are like...

Lotus Growing From The Mud (or something like that) is Goldie Hawn's novel about herself. The novel is like her, with many layers. You start off thinking how simplistic her language is and why indeed you are reading it in the first place when you have recipes to vet. But the beauty of this book is not how she writes, but really her story. Amazing,inspirational stuff that Oprah-lovers would devour like a truffle.

Then I watched Lady In The Water over the weekend. I am no horror fan and was a bit sceptical and was sooooo glad when it turned out not to be a horror after all. Not even a thriller. It's a lovely story about humanity and all the feel good stuff. Loved it to bits. Would watch it again. M. Shyamalan movies always leave a tingle up the spine no? By the way, has anybody noticed how well built he is? Mmmmm...slurp...

I climbed a trad wall yesterday - for those who don't know - it's a wall that's fashioned like a real rock wall - ie. with cracks and lines etc rather than coloured holds. It was FABULOUS and I have large bruises to show for it. Left Camp 5 feeling like a hero.

You must think it sounds like I don't have that much work if I am off gallavanting about movies and rocks and blogs. The truth is, I have. I am postitvely snowed under. If I were to work non-stop I would have to keepo going for at least a week. The thing is, despite that, I make time for me. If not, I would explode as many others do on a constant basis. I make time to do things that allow me to breathe. Yes, it impinges on work time, but hey, priorities. I need to be alive and sane, no?

Having said that, back to work...to quote Green Day, "Wake Me Up When September Ends..."