Numbers

As I see the numbers rise, my heart beat fasten.

I saw it climb one by one, sometimes skipping and moving on to the next, determining how I would feel the next couple of days.

That’s what get at me the most. These numbers, although they can look so harmless, are detrimental in my mood and how I feel about myself for the rest of its future. It immediately becomes an unattended scab that I have been hiding from, but now torn and exposed to the environment again, revealing the rawness of the wound.

Wounds are tough to heal from, but they remind you of the mistakes you made. They slowly become scabs, become scars. They ain’t a bad thing after all. Scars allow you to remember that these actually happened. That you are actually human enough to get hurt and recover. You survived.

But I’m barely just a scab. I’m not who I imagined myself to be. I’m just a painted sculpture that is fragile and breaks upon a light touch.

I won’t ever be who I want to be.

Positivity is tough. But if I can’t be who I want to be, why not try this? Be positive. Almost impossible, but since I’ve been getting at something almost impossible my whole life, why not try this new goal?

Giving my body a chance to love herself.

Some lessons are just tougher than the others.

Advertisements

Monologue .

It’s possible isn’t it? ”

It’s possible that you’re gonna meet somebody who’s perfect for you even though you’re committed to someone else,”

“No, if you’re committed to somebody, you don’t allow yourself to find perfection in someone else. ”

You’re just telling me what I wanna hear. ”

“Well, if that’s what you wanna hear, I think you’ve already made up your mind. “

 

Emptiness

Some things I really miss…

Do I really miss them or is it just the memories?

I’ve been holding on to a regret for awhile, and it’s heavy. I want to put it down but it won’t budge. I don’t have the courage to.

Courage? That was what created this regret. I had no courage to face the fears. I had no determination to see myself through it. I didn’t have enough fire in me to trust in myself that I can survive this.

I didn’t have courage.

And this courage produced emptiness. This courage formulated regret. This courage sculpted scars and unhealed wounds. This courage created me; right now, here.

I longed to live on a stage with lights that blind me and pain in my body that only spoke of my love. I craved for the attention to speak my soul and heart through my actions. I longed for movements to express my captivated heart. I yearn for the time I could speak and spread the love I have to those who see. Many times I wished I could have been braver and more courageous. But too many times have I failed.

Regret keeps building up like stacks of papers and work we face. Day by day, it gets thicker and thicker. In a blink of an eye, you are surrounded by them. You are drowning in these papers that spell out regret and guilt.

I miss dance. I regret not persevering. very very much.

There is a reason for everything, people say.

I ask, “Lord, what was this purpose meant for? What lessons are you trying to teach me?”

And every time, all I hear is: “Wait,”

Obediently I shall. Obediently I will.

Tonight, I face one of the toughest nights struggling with what I want and what God wants. In this wee hour, my mind wrestles and hustles to fight for what it wants. My heart? otherwise. It speaks of patience and obedience to listen and wait. It speaks of faith and trust. It tells me to take heart, have faith.

For I know the thoughts that I think toward you, saith the Lord, thoughts of peace and not of evil, to give you an expected end.

– Jeremiah 29:11 KJV

PEACE it shall be.

Emptiness to be filled in God’s timing.

I gotta admit this isn’t the only problem I’m facing now. There are 101 things on my mind that bothers me. But I know these 101 things are also being taken care of.

\\ Today I was in school practicing for my practical exams happening on Tuesday. Halfway through it, I felt a gush of negativity and darkness and walked away. Shocked, a close friend came to me and asked. I simply said: ” I give up. “ I was ready to succumb back into the darkness and let myself drown in negativity. Thank God he didn’t do the former to me. Instead, he reminded me that when we fail, we get up and try again.

We keep trying until we get it right.

Wow, that triggered me; drastically.

Firstly: That is so cliche. Why would you think that would’ve helped?

Secondly: I know that. But I choose not to because that is too tiring.

Thirdly and most importantly, the pivoting point: it reminded me of dance.

In every dance class, I cannot imagine how many times I have actually practiced this. Re-trying and retrying. Even if we do not get it at the end of the class, we keep trying. Week by week, day by day. Hour by hour.

Where did that drive go? It probably left me the time I bid my goodbyes to dance.

BUT. this time I would not let it run away.

I am working this hard for my future patients so I know what the best treatment is. I am driving and pushing myself so I can help more people. Like in rehearsals, we will run through. Again and again. They always say, “from the top”. I guess this is what is similar in dance and in my course. Never ever giving up; running through from the top. again and again. That was our favourite word.

Funny how I just got reminded once when people asked, “You switched drastically from a dance background to a healthcare field in physiotherapy. What are some similarities?”

And now, I’d say. This perseverance. This idea that as my friend knocked some sense into me, “when we fail, we get up and try again.” Literally in dance. When we fall from a pirouette, from a failed tour en lair, from a failed grand jete; we get up from the floor and start from where we were only to repeat the same sequence again and again.

Repeatedly.

At last a thought I leave with you:

Stop being so impatient, wait on Him. In everything we do, wait on Him.

For some reason, this emptiness I felt at the start of writing this post became filled. Filled with hope that the Lord will provide.

word

 

 

I don’t know .

I don’t know if what I am doing is right.

I am so close to a friend, should I ponder?

The thought of losing this friend gives me a fright.

Is it okay that he is of the opposite gender?

 

I don’t know if how I am feeling is right.

Perhaps it’s my mind playing with my heart.

I am afraid of sabotaging this night,

but perhaps it was wrong on my part.

 

I don’t know if what I saw was right.

The strokes and signs of love,

that shines in my life so bright,

Like an angel from above.

 

I don’t know if I know myself.

I don’t know if I know what I don’t know.

I don’t know who I am.

I don’t know who I am in my mind.

 

Time .

As requested; always, time.

Time is always. Time revolves around you, she never stops for you.

Perhaps you could call her selfish; like an ambitious workaholic woman who waits for no man. She surpasses everyone, and anyone.

We catch ourselves in a battle with time. We catch ourselves falling when we cannot seize time. Are we in any way, entitled to invest in time? Or is it just a given, a unanimous choice that no one actually has any authority in?

“The two most powerful warriors are patience and time.” – Leo Tolstoy

The irony here is this: patience is a servant of time. Patience like any other servant, strives to only serve. That’s her only job. There is only such thing as ‘patience’ because it runs on time. Think about it, if there’s no concept called time, how would you then verify patience? I have fought with myself many times, figuring out a solution so both patience and time can learn to live without each other. But they can’t. Only with patience will you need time, and only with time will you show patience. They are inseparable.

Time? She has the ability to be manipulative and slow down when she wants to, or quicken herself when she feels like it. She has her world on her own; in fact, she runs the world. I believe many times that she would learn to be dependent on others, so that for once people can actually tell her what to do. Stubborn young lady. There she goes moving around the circular motion of a point that seems to be the only thing that sets her foot down. She is rowdy, wild, but more importantly, she can be the most beautiful being this universe could have.

She brings smiles to others, although some tears as well. She is the epitome of movement. How do you quantify yourself to be moving in space if there is no element of time? Time is also a space. Time moves, she moves like eagles in the sky. Swoosh! She attacks and glides past as if nothing has ever happened.

On some days, I pray for time to slow down; I really do. I pray for the day I can catch her.

Now the question: Are we serving time or is time serving us?

Time and us are interdependent; we co-exist for the sake of the other. Without time, there would not be us. Without us, there would not be time. Perhaps you could say time is selfish because she runs on her own. Perhaps, it might be a problem to the existence of people because she is oblivious. She doesn’t see the consequences of her actions.

The remedy to end the game of catching up:

“Above all, by ending the game of catching up, you may discover that you already have everything you need. The secret to having it all is recognizing that you already do.”

Stop. You won’t miss a thing and you will enjoy what you know, have, and do even more.
Close your eyes and take a breath. Thank the molecules that just entered your nose; they sacrificed to drown in your alveoli as you take that breath. Be present- If you are paying attention to what didn’t get done yesterday or what needs to get done tomorrow, your full attention will run like wild goose and you cannot absorb what is going on right now. How can you be your most creative, most interested, and do your best work, when all you have in your mind are pictures, conversations, segments of the past that no longer hold any value in the present?

Like any humans, she is seen with perspectives. It is a perception ; it is a choice. It is a privilege ; like it is an award. You are given time, she gave herself to you. If you lose her, you lose her forever. There’s no turning back. No matter how much you try to chase her, she goes faster and faster forward. Because when you do try, you lose yourself and will eventually discover yourself running backwards instead. You lose yourself thinking you are helping yourself.

It seems like time can transform into anything and everything. She can be used in any scenario. Versatile, adaptive and attractive. I’d like to take a step closer to appreciate her.

I am not going to fear her.

The world a jungle you cannot fathom.

Came to terms with myself that, social media ain’t all that amusing after all. Social media destroys you. It is a redundant silent killer that slowly kills you before you know it.

Is there anything that is in this world that I am capable of?

If I wasn’t here, would there be any difference?

There are countless thoughts in my mind that I cannot identify. Hide and seek perhaps, they are playing with me. Thoughts, incoherent, unable to comprehend, meaningless they are. Confused I am. How much of myself do I know? How much effort have I put in to understand who I really am? If I don’t even know who I am, how am I going to expect others to know me and understand me? All these boil down to me, I am the cause of many troubles.

I am the root of all problems.

Does my existence exist if we are all just but a perception in our minds?

We are conscious that we are sitting on this chair, reading this post and that is why we are where we are. But are we? The world we see around us are nothing but illusion. Your brain plays with you. It exists only in our imagination.

// Many things are beyond your reach , beyond anything you can imagine .

I’m starting to lose myself. Losing the way I handle myself with issues and with my life. I am tired. I am picturing myself drowning in my own death, in my own blood. In a life that has been filled with regrets. Reasons for me to end this imperfect illusion that I can’t even make myself happy with. A wild mind illusion for the existence of this world that I don’t even have a say in. Even if we construct the world we believe we live in, I can’t seem to take control of it. I can’t seem to construct the world that I desire. I cannot seem to find a place that I can fit in. Imagination is scary. At times I imagine myself away from the world ; I detach myself from my body. I try to see things from a bird’s eye view and I realised perhaps, my existence might help some people, it might help some to rid off problems, rid off guilt, rid off hate, rid off discontentment.
Even my body is shutting off. I feel less and less of myself each day. Is this what happens when you’re busy and you still have the capability to let your mind wander? I am a hypocrite. Telling others which direction to go when I am lost myself.

Guess it’s time I go and satisfy these inner desires that I have been suppressing for a long long time.

 

Pinch .

Funny how I do not feel obliged to go for social gatherings anymore. Interesting how things that were important to me become irrelevant. 

Hurt ? Could you describe it that way? 

I used to feel the pinch for not being invited to social gatherings or birthday parties. But now, I’m secretly glad that I don’t have to make the extra effort to socialise. How did things change that way? 

People change, they say. 

Intriguely although I do not feel the pinch of not being invited to a social gathering, I am still feeling the pinch that I wasn’t and couldn’t be performing and competing in a dance competition.

I’d think my dance days are over, long over since my last injury. But the want to be competing, putting on a face that speaks of my dance, bearing all the perspiration and blood; practicing under those gruesome hours still yearn for me. I can’t get over those days but think of it as if dance was my lover. 

Breaking point is this : no one knows nor understands how this feels. No one I could talk to for the expression of such sorrows. Yes I’m getting emotional.

I know I’ve said this many times that dance has been something of my past but, how do I get over it? Or do I even have to? 

“You turned my wailing into dancing; you removed my sackcloth and clothed me with joy,”

‭‭Psalm‬ ‭30 : 11 NIV 

Writing these down to document my feelings and my heart. 

I’m still waiting for the Lord and on Him. I’m waiting for Him to speak to me; how I should dance or how I can deal with this nagging longing that I have been separated from for the past year. 

Sight 

I’m in a train cabin, standing. 

Two elderly men in white hair came in. Two vacant reserved seats. One offered to another, ” there, there is another seat for you” and gestured towards the end of the cabin to find that fellow stranger a seat. 

A girl about her early teens came in. The lady sitting in front of me stood up and gave up her seat. The girl looked at me and smiled before proceeding to remove her dirtied bag from her back and sat down in front of me. I looked away fearing the awkwardness. Again our eyes met, she smiled again. I smiled back. She looked at the elderly lady sitting beside her. The lady smiled back and the girl said hi. They exchanged a few words before both concentrated on their phones again. 

‘ Tiong Bahru ‘

The train stopped at the station. 

This man in his late 30s tried to wheel himself onto the train. His two front wheels (which are smaller in size) got caught between the gaps. The elderly I mentioned before stood up and was going to rush forward to offer help, only to find the man successfully going over the hurdle with a tiny jump he made with his body to get the wheels out of the space. 

People gave way to him. 

I’m in a train cabin filled with people I want to help. I’m in a train cabin where people are passing and going. I’m on a journey to meet my friend for lunch, but I’m also on a journey to discover where my heart lies. A utopia story of having to offer endless guidance to people when needed.

Words

These things that I am using now are incredibly powerful. They can mean so many different things, they can portray different emotions, they can even tell you possibly the personality of those behind their keyboards. 

Interesting how letters don’t mean much or in fact anything ; but when you put letters together, they mean something. When you then mix these letters around, they start to hold different meanings. Perhaps in my own imagination, I saw a parallel in the way people are, by means of communication or even physically being together. Like how letters are physically put together but still separated by spaces to make a meaning out of it, us humans have groups that segregate us into ‘words’. Communication seems to be the most complicated, personal and subjective means of ‘transport’. You might ask, ” Why inverted comma the ‘transport’ , or even use the word ‘transport’ , ” right? I’ll say communication brings people together, closer, or even further and more distant. But these play with the dimension of distances and length. Since we have measured relationships by such intrinsic ways, I found parallels and at the same time paradoxes. 

Communicating with someone creates a loop; (is that really traveling?) it requires a relationship to happen. Be it between strangers or best friends, communication barely goes in one direction. Communicating involves a form of traveling, more psychological and emotional actually. We empathise and listen to people, we travel into how their hearts feel, we travel essentially to their lives. Just imagine your friend sharing with you what he/she has done over the weekend; you move into that ‘space’ where it is as if you were them and experiencing it yourself. Truth to be, there will be some aspects lacking from being actually there and listening as a third party. But essentially you still move into their personal space and understand/perceive things the way they did. 

Words are the same ; I don’t think we can make sense of them if we do not understand them right? People are similar ; if we don’t hear and make sense of their words, we wouldn’t understand their intentions and what they are trying to convey as well.  

Words though, can be a double-edged sword. They can pierce through your heart and hurt you deeply , yet they have the same ability to turn you into the happiest human at a particular point in time. But the worst is: if words were left unspoken. 

Shannon L. Alder once said, “When you give yourself permission to communicate what matters to you in every situation you will have peace despite rejection or disapproval. Putting a voice to your soul helps you to let go of the negative energy of fear and regret.” 

Words and letters tend to fascinate me ; how they can so effectively be used as means of communications yet they can have the uncanny notion to how they should be used and when they could be used. They are paradoxical themselves, holding meanings at times but not at others. Or perhaps people use words contradictingly. 

Words are complicated, yes. But they are so interesting to the extent that a world might exist just for them. I admit that I barely spend my time understanding them even if and when I am so curious myself. I just make use of them and regurgitate until one day when I felt the pinch and tasted my own medicine that words do hurt if you do not use them properly. I cannot deny that many times I breeze through words thinking I really understand them: but in actual fact, I don’t. Seems like the case for some people as well. I think I know them and when I really get to interact with them, I realise there were many things that differed from hearing and knowing a person through social media and their friends, compared to knowing and talking to them individually. Basic example of the classic “Do not judge a book by its cover”. Guess many people still miss this point. (Work-in-progress thought)

And finally a quote I leave for us to ponder on our actions and intentions :

Listen with curiosity. Speak with honesty. Act with integrity. The greatest problem with communication is we don’t listen to understand. We listen to reply. When we listen with curiosity, we don’t listen with the intent to reply. We listen for what’s behind the words.

– Roy T. Bennett, The Light in the Heart


Lessons

Learning with a motivation is always better than learning just for the exam.

I experienced that myself today. (Yes, I am slow I know)

Learning can be really fun; we even learned a dance to remember the myotomes and dermatomes for our exams. (Hmm.. maybe I could incorporate dance in remembering my heavy content)

Did you know the ability to distinguish letters from numbers that people write on your skin is also used as a test for your sensory abilities? There is even a name to it; Graphesthesia. Cool isn’t it?

Recalling, the nursing home I used to work at  (I miss them so much) , I experienced with my eyes that the therapists tested for sensation with stroke patients using this ‘Graphesthesia’ method. It was really intriguing to me; and in my lecture notes it actually said that this is a less-practiced test. Hmm .. seems like that’s not the case here! I guess there isn’t any definition to what kind of tests can be done. There is an endless list; our bodies are so complicated yet detailed that I actually don’t think any scientist can unravel the full ‘formula’ (I would say) of the human body. Every individual is different, even twins. How can one ever replicate another human, or even use the same treatment method for another individual if all of us are different. I figured perhaps no treatment is universal in its optimal state, since everyone’s bodies have its own preference.

“Pain is subjective” , yes it is. There isn’t anything known as ‘pain signals’ , there are only nociceptors that are sent to the brain, and your brain interprets and decides if that is considered ‘pain’. Hence the former. Personal thought: Our bodies and mind are languages of their own, incomprehensible to any outsider or even us humans. Perhaps it’s one of the languages God created that is sacred to His creation.

// not related paragraph //

My dad gave me an English name long time ago, and I have been using it since I’ve been in uni. I once read somewhere that your identity is in your name, and I was worried about the effects of my changed name. Seems like it wasn’t much of a difference though. What are the possibilities that your identity goes with your name? Name = identity? Partially I’d say. I’ve been called in many ways; Meifei, Meifs, Faye, Fei .. but do they make any difference? Do you think your identity is determined by how people call you? Leave your thoughts if you have anything to comment or share!

Also, I realised I need to up my language game. I find myself missing out on English phrases/slang that cuts short the limit to my understanding sometimes. Reading should help right? Hope I get the time to read more. (Only during my holidays I suppose)

A quote I leave for you today :

A moment’s insight is sometimes worth a life’s experience.      

Oliver Wendell Holmes (1809-1894)

Signing off with love!

img_0623

I do miss them dearly, hope they are all coping fine ! 🙂