Lesson : Happiness starts from within

Let's say you have what you believe to be a healthy marriage. You're still friends and lovers after spending more than half of your lives together. The dreams you set out to achieve in your 20s — gazing into each other's eyes in candlelit city bistros, when you were single and skinny — have for the most part come true.

Two decades later you have the 20 acres of land, the farmhouse, the children, the dogs and horses. You're the parents you said you would be, full of love and guidance. You've done it all: Disneyland, camping, Hawaii, Mexico, city living, stargazing.

Sure, you have your marital issues, but on the whole you feel so self-satisfied about how things have worked out that you would never, in your wildest nightmares, think you would hear these words from your husband one fine summer day: "I don't love you anymore. I'm not sure I ever did. I'm moving out. The kids will understand. They'll want me to be happy."

But wait. This isn't the divorce story you think it is. Neither is it a begging-him-to-stay story. It's a story about hearing your husband say, "I don't love you anymore" and deciding not to believe him. And what can happen as a result.

Here's a visual: Child throws a temper tantrum. Tries to hit his mother. But the mother doesn't hit back, lecture or punish. Instead, she ducks. Then she tries to go about her business as if the tantrum isn't happening. She doesn't "reward" the tantrum. She simply doesn't take the tantrum personally because, after all, it's not about her.

Let me be clear: I'm not saying my husband was throwing a child's tantrum. No. He was in the grip of something else — a profound and far more troubling meltdown that comes not in childhood but in midlife, when we perceive that our personal trajectory is no longer arcing reliably upward as it once did. But I decided to respond the same way I'd responded to my children's tantrums. And I kept responding to it that way. For four months.

"I don't love you anymore. I'm not sure I ever did."

His words came at me like a speeding fist, like a sucker punch, yet somehow in that moment I was able to duck. And once I recovered and composed myself, I managed to say, "I don't buy it." Because I didn't.

He drew back in surprise. Apparently he'd expected me to burst into tears, to rage at him, to threaten him with a custody battle. Or beg him to change his mind.

So he turned mean. "I don't like what you've become."

Gut-wrenching pause. How could he say such a thing? That's when I really wanted to fight. To rage. To cry. But I didn't.

Instead, a shroud of calm enveloped me, and I repeated those words: "I don't buy it."

You see, I'd recently committed to a non-negotiable understanding with myself. I'd committed to "the End of Suffering." I'd finally managed to exile the voices in my head that told me my personal happiness was only as good as my outward success, rooted in things that were often outside my control. I'd seen the insanity of that equation and decided to take responsibility for my own happiness. And I mean all of it.

My husband hadn't yet come to this understanding with himself. He had enjoyed many years of hard work, and its rewards had supported our family of four all along. But his new endeavor hadn't been going so well, and his ability to be the breadwinner was in rapid decline. He'd been miserable about this, felt useless, was losing himself emotionally and letting himself go physically. And now he wanted out of our marriage; to be done with our family.

But I wasn't buying it.

I said: "It's not age-appropriate to expect children to be concerned with their parents' happiness. Not unless you want to create co-dependents who'll spend their lives in bad relationships and therapy. There are times in every relationship when the parties involved need a break. What can we do to give you the distance you need, without hurting the family?"

"Huh?" he said.

"Go trekking in Nepal. Build a yurt in the back meadow. Turn the garage studio into a man-cave. Get that drum set you've always wanted. Anything but hurting the children and me with a reckless move like the one you're talking about."

Then I repeated my line, "What can we do to give you the distance you need, without hurting the family?"

"Huh?"

"How can we have a responsible distance?"

"I don't want distance," he said. "I want to move out."

My mind raced. Was it another woman? Drugs? Unconscionable secrets? But I stopped myself. I would not suffer.

Instead, I went to my desk, Googled "responsible separation," and came up with a list. It included things like: Who's allowed to use what credit cards? Who are the children allowed to see you with in town? Who's allowed keys to what?

I looked through the list and passed it on to him.

His response: "Keys? We don't even have keys to our house."

I remained stoic. I could see pain in his eyes. Pain I recognized.

"Oh, I see what you're doing," he said. "You're going to make me go into therapy. You're not going to let me move out. You're going to use the kids against me."

"I never said that. I just asked: What can we do to give you the distance you need ... "

"Stop saying that!"

Well, he didn't move out.

Instead, he spent the summer being unreliable. He stopped coming home at his usual 6 o'clock. He would stay out late and not call. He blew off our entire Fourth of July — the parade, the barbecue, the fireworks — to go to someone else's party. When he was at home, he was distant. He wouldn't look me in the eye. He didn't even wish me "Happy Birthday."

But I didn't play into it. I walked my line. I told the kids: "Daddy's having a hard time, as adults often do. But we're a family, no matter what." I was not going to suffer. And neither were they.

My trusted friends were irate on my behalf. "How can you just stand by and accept this behavior? Kick him out! Get a lawyer!"

I walked my line with them, too. This man was hurting, yet his problem wasn't mine to solve. In fact, I needed to get out of his way so he could solve it.

I know what you're thinking: I'm a pushover. I'm weak and scared and would put up with anything to keep the family together. I'm probably one of those women who would endure physical abuse. But I can assure you, I'm not. I load 1,500-pound horses into trailers and gallop through the high country of Montana all summer. I went through Pitocin-induced natural childbirth. And a Caesarean section without follow-up drugs. I am handy with a chain saw.

I simply had come to understand that I was not at the root of my husband's problem. He was. If he could turn his problem into a marital fight, he could make it about us. I needed to get out of the way so that wouldn't happen.

Privately, I decided to give him time. Six months.

I had good days and I had bad days. On the good days, I took the high road. I ignored his lashing out, his merciless jabs. On bad days, I would fester in the August sun while the kids ran through sprinklers, raging at him in my mind. But I never wavered. Although it may sound ridiculous to say, "Don't take it personally" when your husband tells you he no longer loves you, sometimes that's exactly what you have to do.

Instead of issuing ultimatums, yelling, crying, or begging, I presented him with options. I created a summer of fun for our family and welcomed him to share in it, or not — it was up to him. If he chose not to come along, we would miss him, but we would be just fine, thank you very much. And we were.

And, yeah, you can bet I wanted to sit him down and persuade him to stay. To love me. To fight for what we've created. You can bet I wanted to.

But I didn't.

I barbecued. Made lemonade. Set the table for four. Loved him from afar.

And one day, there he was, home from work early, mowing the lawn. A man doesn't mow his lawn if he's going to leave it. Not this man. Then he fixed a door that had been broken for eight years. He made a comment about our front porch needing paint. Our front porch. He mentioned needing wood for next winter. The future. Little by little, he started talking about the future.

It was Thanksgiving dinner that sealed it. My husband bowed his head humbly and said, "I'm thankful for my family."

He was back.

And I saw what had been missing: pride. He'd lost pride in himself. Maybe that's what happens when our egos take a hit in midlife and we realize we're not as young and golden anymore.

When life's knocked us around. And our childhood myths reveal themselves to be just that. The truth feels like the biggest sucker-punch of them all: It's not a spouse, or land, or a job, or money that brings us happiness. Those achievements, those relationships, can enhance our happiness, yes, but happiness has to start from within. Relying on any other equation can be lethal.

My husband had become lost in the myth. But he found his way out. We've since had the hard conversations. In fact, he encouraged me to write about our ordeal. To help other couples who arrive at this juncture in life. People who feel scared and stuck. Who believe their temporary feelings are permanent. Who see an easy out and think they can escape.

My husband tried to strike a deal. Blame me for his pain. Unload his feelings of personal disgrace onto me.

But I ducked. And I waited. And it worked.

This essay originally appeared in The New York Times. Used with permission. All rights reserved.

Love survival

 
 
“My wife got sick.  She was constantly nervous because of problems at work, personal life, her failures and problems with children. 

She has lost 30 pounds and weighed about 90 pounds in her 35 years. She got very skinny, and was constantly crying. She was not a happy woman. She had suffered from continuing headaches, heart pain and jammed nerves in her back and ribs.

She did not sleep well, falling asleep only in the morning and got tired very quickly during the day. Our relationship was on the verge of break up. 

Her beauty was leaving her somewhere, she had bags under her eyes, she was poking her head, and stopped taking care of herself. She refused to shoot the films and rejected any role. 

I lost hope and thought that we’ll get divorced soon…But then I decided to act on it. 
After all I’ve got the most beautiful woman on the earth. 

She is the idol of more than half of men and women on earth, and I was the one allowed to fall asleep next to her and to hug her shoulders.

I began to pamper her with flowers, kisses and compliments. I surprised her and pleased her every minute. I gave her lots of gifts and lived just for her. I spoke in public only about her. I incorporated all themes in her direction. I praised her in front of her own and our mutual friends.

You won’t believe it, but she blossomed. She became even better than before. She gained weight, was no longer nervous and she loved me even more than ever. I had no clue that she CAN love that much. And then I realized one thing: The woman is the reflection of her man. If you love her to the point of madness, she will become it.“              

- Brad Pitt

There goes the ol' saying.....

In old times, couples 'fix' things. In these time, couples 'replace' things. True enough. Real wisdom your Gramma got there, Bernard. You are truly blessed. 

It is adamant by saying You've got a gem with you when you've got an elder at home. Of course there are exceptions when some may have bad parents or somehow cookoo elderly that gives rotten examples. Morons are everywhere so just take it as karma. But, but truly generally, our elders (grandparents/parents/aunty/uncle/ahpek/ahma/kanasai *oopps) are precious people in our life. It is most influential when we grow up with them. They are our very first educationist to define 'happiness' in all different ways. 

My parents makes me today. I am a good mixture of their ingredients. They gave me a well balanced diet of ups and downs. That's why my perspectives are never too optimistic and hardly way pessimistic. I don't have lots of riches but yet I don't lack things. I am given education freedom but yet not forced to act like a genius. I lived my wild years but yet always afraid to fuck things up because I can't fail my parents. That's why I am today. 

And today, I am still learning life as my heart skips every beat. And today, I can still hold on to this beautiful life because I have my beautiful parents with me. Undoubtedly, my maternal grandparents taught me some good deal of lessons before they left me. Thankfully and gratefully blessed. 

Hence, last but not least... I have learned to 'fix' things rather than 'replace' things...nowadays.  

May all be well and happy. Sadhu. 

自我催眠

那曾经走过的路口 我停了你却走
看你背对背的走
原来怪我没智慧的天分你才要走

我想摀住我的耳朵听不见你说
我会不说 不想说
怕说了也没有用

我睡在没有你的房间
寂寞更加明显

我走在没有你的世界
却走不到永远

我渐渐的自我催眠
却回不到从前
我渐渐的自我催眠
慢慢闭上双眼

Hello, Bob Marley.. Who?

“He’s not perfect. You aren’t either, and the two of you will never be perfect. But if he can make you laugh at least once, causes you to think twice, and if he admits to being human and making mistakes, hold onto him and give him the most you can. He isn’t going to quote poetry, he’s not thinking about you every moment, but he will give you a part of him that he knows you could break. Don’t hurt him, don’t change him, and don’t expect for more than he can give. Don’t analyze. Smile when he makes you happy, yell when he makes you mad, and miss him when he’s not there. Love hard when there is love to be had. Because perfect guys don’t exist, but there’s always one guy that is perfect for you.” – Bob Marley

________________

Who's Bob Marley? And what's his direct translation about this perfect guy thingy huh? Yeah, I voiced my resentment maybe, plainly because I think he is so damn right. I mean this Marley guy had just hit my red button. Something I wouldn't admit it is right because it is just so damn right. I am resenting because this imperfect guy (whoever this is, no relevation here) would finally take all for granted because he knows there isn't any perfect guy afterall. And who gets the hurt then and then? Yes, that hopeless, helpless, poor lady that pours all out for that imperfect guy who made her smiled once, think twice and bla bla bla. This is fairytale gone wrong. Guys can't just forgets responsibilities, break promises and make a girl cry all because nobody is perfect. It is not an excuse to hurt a girl and no sorry after that. And blame who? Blame this Marley guy. But we, girls, all knows exactly how true the statement is...because we have all fallen for this imperfect guy and it stays deep deep in our memories, forever...scattered. 

Sigh. 

Marriage isn't for me

Having been married only a year and a half, I’ve recently come to the conclusion that marriage isn’t for me.

Now before you start making assumptions, keep reading.

I met my wife in high school when we were 15 years old. We were friends for ten years until…until we decided no longer wanted to be just friends. :) I strongly recommend that best friends fall in love. Good times will be had by all.

Nevertheless, falling in love with my best friend did not prevent me from having certain fears and anxieties about getting married. The nearer Kim and I approached the decision to marry, the more I was filled with a paralyzing fear. Was I ready? Was I making the right choice? Was Kim the right person to marry? Would she make me happy?

Then, one fateful night, I shared these thoughts and concerns with my dad.

Perhaps each of us have moments in our lives when it feels like time slows down or the air becomes still and everything around us seems to draw in, marking that moment as one we will never forget.

My dad giving his response to my concerns was such a moment for me. With a knowing smile he said, “Seth, you’re being totally selfish. So I’m going to make this really simple: marriage isn’t for you. You don’t marry to make yourself happy, you marry to make someone else happy. More than that, your marriage isn’t for yourself, you’re marrying for a family. Not just for the in-laws and all of that nonsense, but for your future children. Who do you want to help you raise them? Who do you want to influence them? Marriage isn’t for you. It’s not about you. Marriage is about the person you married.”

It was in that very moment that I knew that Kim was the right person to marry. I realized that I wanted to make her happy; to see her smile every day, to make her laugh every day. I wanted to be a part of her family, and my family wanted her to be a part of ours. And thinking back on all the times I had seen her play with my nieces, I knew that she was the one with whom I wanted to build our own family.

My father’s advice was both shocking and revelatory. It went against the grain of today’s “Walmart philosophy”, which is if it doesn’t make you happy, you can take it back and get a new one.

No, a true marriage (and true love) is never about you. It’s about the person you love—their wants, their needs, their hopes, and their dreams. Selfishness demands, “What’s in it for me?”, while Love asks, “What can I give?”

Some time ago, my wife showed me what it means to love selflessly. For many months, my heart had been hardening with a mixture of fear and resentment. Then, after the pressure had built up to where neither of us could stand it, emotions erupted. I was callous. I was selfish.

But instead of matching my selfishness, Kim did something beyond wonderful—she showed an outpouring of love. Laying aside all of the pain and aguish I had caused her, she lovingly took me in her arms and soothed my soul.

Marriage is about family. I realized that I had forgotten my dad's advice. While Kim's side of marriage had been to love me, my side of the marriage had become all about me. This awful realization brought me to tears, and I promised my wife that I would try to be better.

To all who are reading this article—married, almost married, single, or even the sworn bachelor or bachelorette—I want you to know that marriage isn’t for you. No true relationship of love is for you. Love is about the person you love.

And, paradoxically, the more you truly love that person, the more love you receive. And not just from your significant other, but from their friends and their family and thousands of others you never would have met had your love remained self-centered.

by Seth Adam Smith

A literal odessy. Powered by Blog

My great housemate

Hey fishie fishie

You came into my residence when I needed companion most. Together, we made this home. I always see you in that corner, beaming despite in the dark..always welcoming. Your graceful swims reminds me that 'life goes on and on and on...' and you did really kept me go on. And yes, go on move forward I will. 

Today. All of you. Go to the Light. I believe and I'd pray you will be reborn into a realm of happiness, of a Land where the Dharmma is preached. May Metta be with you, everywhere anywhere. 

How true can be real truth?

Scales of aggrieved fins

Every day, ticks as every eon passed
Every moment, takes away every sense
of bliss...of mindfulness...of individuality
Such suffocation of that brand new self
is washing away the memories
covered by each layers of musk
craving for oxygen, am not surfacing
to the Light...when darkness prevails even in the daylight

Am not swimming any longer in the sea of past
not mine, entirely yours
A splash of painful tsunami, am pushing ashore
but then it covers the very beat of consciousness
am living still in the dreams
of all those past
not mine, entirely yours

Nothing is doable, can't rewind time
Can't release you but..
captivating myself...a prison of blurred vision
for the beholder of key, defeated
and dying the death of renewal
within these walls built in bare hands

Endless contributions with only an empty soul
defying.....
Endless resistance with only an empathized force
annihilating...
Togetherness is anywhere and everywhere
and yet leading to nowhere
Paths not seen, routes not found
Days would all be emptied, and filled
with emptiness again

Am drifting afar so afar
follows the current of unawareness
not thinking through these waters of mysteries
At a point when consciousness fails
let me just rest in peace in this dream
and never wake me up again
and never see me up again
beneath this sea, forever

© ar●te●nus\

Renewal

"Don't try to use whatever you learn in Buddhism to be a Buddhist. Use it to be a better person from whatever-you-are from this moment" - quotes

I've heard, that there are very little, or maybe even non-existent merits from burning incense everyday; yet if your body, mind and soul is never free. Laymen terms, why do the praying..ask for blessings..bow bow to a statue..knock knock head on the floor....when the inner self is not at bliss. There is no dharma because you have bot become a better person to yourself, to others and to the environment. 

Phewwww let's take a breather. 

I vow to let go. Let go of assumptions, let go of attachment, let go of delusion, let go of negativity. I vow to remind myself again, the only permanence in this life is impermanence. I vow to walk the Middle Way and be at the moment. 

For these vows I have made to myself, every prayers and offerings and bows are devoted to the Triple Gems; so I have the courage, support and reminders to act upon the vows diligently. I am asking for protections and blessings from the Triple Gems for me to be at myself and be better. 

And, this all includes the renewal of my promises to be in love all over again. 

Sadhu Sadhu Sadhu 

Ironic ! but yet again...

Thanks from the bottom of my heart, ahdee's blog. You got me right there, man. Big hugs, kisses too when we meet again!

誰讓你心動 誰讓你心痛

誰會讓你偶爾想要擁他在懷中

誰又在乎你的夢

誰說你心思他會懂

誰為你感動 

如果女人 總是等到夜深 無悔付出青春

他就會對你真 

是否女人 永遠不要多問 他最好永遠天真

為他所愛的人

<问>

ar•te•nus\ 

Ironic but ...

If you are smart enough, you'll find this someone. But... able to keep this someone with you throughout, requires wisdom. Or else, this could just be another cat and mouse game. Those games that we have all played. 

ar•te•nus\ 

Sanity call

The unidentified feeling when you are happy, and afraid being happy. Indeed. 

The sudden wrench of heart when sadness prevails, and all you need to know is when it will end. Indeed. 

Maybe the mantra to a healthy living is: Do not postpone joys, Never extend grievances. How many times in life is lived 'at the moment' with no worries whatsoever  about 'what if' and 'what not'. When the heart is not serene, it skips a beat away from happiness. When the mind is not tranquil, it slips away from inner peace and ultimately no peace gained. 

I have been listening to The Sound of Silence so much lately. While I've always loved the beauty of silence, this song reminds me the importance of speaking out.  Because within the silence soul lays the unrelented voices of an argumentative child. The art is not about total silence. It is saying the right words with the right emotions. 

"Don't learn Buddhism to be a Buddhist. Learn Dharmma to be a better person from whatever you already are now"

I have swayed from the path. I am finding directions to come back now. Whichever road I'm taking, be it the one which I walk with metta and courage. Be it the Middle Way that leads me home. 

Careless whispers

Like there was a gigantic rock fall on my head, and I'm awake. Fully awake. 

After so much hassle, so much pain...all is coming to a beautiful hypocratic closure. Yes, the curtains are down and the show is over. Finally over. 

I can't wait til my next quest begins. That tiny step will bring me to freedom again. The freedom of independence. 

My time, my work, my world, my home. My sanity. I am waiting to smile again, just as how I used to. Maybe then, someone would appreciate again. Or regret. 

Letter, from Husband

I’m a ridiculous, emotional, over-sentimental sap.  I guess that’s why I told my wife I loved her on our second date.

I had tried really hard up to that point to hold it back, honestly.  I wanted to tell her on the first date, but I knew that would probably be weird.

I still remember her reaction.  She kind of gave me this half-shy, half-amused smile.  Then she nodded and looked off into the sky.

I wasn’t heartbroken by the response.  I think part of me recognized that she was much smarter and more modest than me.

But as time has gone on, I also realized that she knew something that I didn’t.

Like most Hasidic Jews (we both became religious later in life), our dating period lasted a very short time.  After two months of dating, we were engaged.  Three months after that, we were married.

And that whole time I was swooning.  This fire was burning in me, a fire that burned just like that second date: I was in love.

But then we got married, and everything changed.

Marriage, quicker than I was ready for, did this thing: it started sucking away that emotion.

I tried so hard to keep that fire going, to keep that emotion alight, but it got harder and harder.

I mean, how you can feel that burning love when you’re sitting at the table discussing how to use the last twenty dollars in your bank account?

How can you feel it when you get into an argument?

How can you feel it when you think it makes perfect sense to put your socks on the floor after you’re done with them, and she has this crazy idea that they need to go in the laundry basket?

There was no way I could keep that dating fire burning as practicality invaded our lives.

And at first, it drove me nuts.  That emotion meant love!  That excitement was how I knew I cared for her!  But suddenly, life was this grind.  Even when I was with her.  Especially when I was with her.

And even worse, it seemed that the harder I tried to be sentimental and lovey-dovey, the less it was reciprocated.

But it wasn’t that she wasn’t giving me love, it just seemed to come at different times.

Like, when I offered to do the dishes.  Or make dinner after she had a hard day.  Or, once we had a daughter, when I shared the responsibility of watching over her.

I don’t think I noticed this consciously for a while.  It just kept happening.

But I think it had an effect on me.  Because as our marriage progressed, I found myself offering to help out around the house more and more.

And after each time, there would be this look she would give me.  This look of absolute love.  One that was soft and so beautiful.

It took me longer than I care to admit to understand what was happening.

But eventually it became clear.  Through giving, through doing things for my wife, the emotion that I had been so desperately seeking naturally came about.  It wasn’t something I could force, just something that would come about as a result of my giving.

In other words, it was in the practicality that I found the love I was looking for.

And what was even more interesting was that once I realized this on a conscious level, and started trying to find more opportunities to give, the more we both, almost intuitively, became lovey-dovey.

And now, as I’m a bit older and a bit more experienced with this relationship, I’ve finally come to realize something. Something I haven’t wanted to admit for a long time, but is undeniable.

I didn’t love my wife on that second date.

I didn’t love her when we got engaged.

I didn’t even love her when we got married.

Because love isn’t an emotion.  That fire I felt, it was simply that: emotional fire.  From the excitement of dating a woman I felt like I could marry.  But it wasn’t love.

No, love isn’t an emotion or even a noun.  It’s a verb.  Better defined as giving.  As putting someone else’s needs above your own.

Why wasn’t I getting reciprocal lovey-doveyness when we were first married?  Because it wasn’t for her.  It was for me.  An emotion I had in my chest.

And even when I let it out of my chest, it wasn’t love.

Being sappy isn’t love.  Telling someone you love them doesn’t mean that you do.

And that’s why my wife just gave me that half-smile.  She knew what love really is.

And now that I’ve tried to change the way I look at love, the more I become shocked at the messages of love I had gotten when I was younger.

From Disney movies to my favorite shows like “The Office” to practically every pop song released, love is constantly sold as an emotion we have before we’re married.  An emotion that, once had, somehow magically stays within a marriage forever.

I can’t imagine a bigger lie.  And I’m saddened to think about how much those messages bounced around in my head for so long.  And how much I’m sure those messages are bouncing around in other people’s heads as well.

I think that might be a big part of the reason the divorce rate is so high in this country.  Imagine a whole nation of people constantly chasing the emotions they had when they were dating.  A country of people trying to live a Disney movie.

That’s a recipe for disastrous marriages; for a country with a 50% divorce rate;  for adultery (the classic attempt to turn the fire back on); for people who do stay together to simply live functional, loveless marriages.

It’s sad to see just how common all the above is.  How many people are in pain simply because they’ve been lied to.

Those people deserve better.  We all deserve better.

It’s time that we changed the conversation about love.  It’s time that we redefine it.

Because until we do, adultery will continue to be common.  Loveless marriages.  Divorce.

Living Disney movies in our minds, and tragedies in our lives.

Menu of the day: 蛋炒饭

Jive in to harlem's favorite 蛋炒饭 , and lemme be the chef !! *feel blessed 

I am literally independent again. Just like I was. I am. Like this fried rice, I've never imagined I'd do this again. Here I am, a place where I call it Home.... I have shelter, I have own space, I have self cooked food. I have love within. 

Food looks too much for myself alone. I am having my late lunch, gawd pray this won't last til supper. But, even if this is a single meal... At least it tastes good, on my personal context. *feel blessed again 

It takes two to tango, but it takes one to be alive. *self quote. 

I am getting the tempo back again. It feels good. I did it once, I'd do it twice. 

P/S: hello Ruey 先生, see me survived?? You owe me one !! 

Carrot? Egg? or Coffee?

A young woman went to her grandmother and told her about her life and how things were so hard for her. She did not know how she was going to make it and wanted to give up. She was tired of fighting and struggling. It seemed as one problem was solved a new one arose.

Her grandmother took her to the kitchen. She filled three pots with water. In the first, she placed carrots, in the second she placed eggs and the last she placed ground coffee beans. She let them sit and boil without saying a word.

In about twenty minutes she turned off the burners. She fished the carrots out and placed them in a bowl. She pulled the eggs out and placed them in a bowl. Then she ladled the coffee out and placed it in a bowl. Turning to her granddaughter, she asked, “Tell me what do you see?”

“Carrots, eggs, and coffee,” she replied.

She brought her closer and asked her to feel the carrots. She did and noted that they got soft.She then asked her to take an egg and break it.

After pulling off the shell, she observed the hard-boiled egg.

Finally, she asked her to sip the coffee. The granddaughter smiled, as she tasted its rich aroma. The granddaughter then asked. “What’s the point,grandmother?”

Her grandmother explained that each of these objects had faced the same adversity–boiling water–but each reacted differently.

The carrot went in strong, hard and unrelenting. However after being subjected to the boiling water, it softened and became weak. The egg had been fragile. Its thin outer shell had protected its liquid interior. But, after sitting through the boiling water, its inside became hardened.

The ground coffee beans were unique, however. After they were in the boiling water they had changed the water.

“Which are you?” she asked her granddaughter.

“When adversity knocks on your door, how do you respond? Are you a carrot, an egg, or a coffee bean?”

~~~~~Think of this: Which am I?

Am I the carrot that seems strong, but with pain and adversity, do I wilt and become soft and lose my strength?

Am I the egg that starts with a malleable heart, but changes with the heat? Did I have a fluid spirit, but after a death, a breakup, a financial hardship or some other trial, have I become hardened and stiff?

Does my shell look the same, but on the inside am I bitter and tough with a stiff spirit and a hardened heart?

Or am I like the coffee bean? The bean actually changes the hot water, the very circumstance that brings the pain. When the water gets hot, it releases the fragrance and flavor. If you are like the bean, when things are at their worst, you get better and change the situation around you.

When the hours are the darkest and trials are their greatest do you elevate to another level?

I'm just me

I'm just me. Not anyone else. 

I'm just truthful to myself. I am therefore I am. That uplifting smile I've given are the sweetest moment that brings my spirit up. And when I blast a big laugh, nothing else matters more than that enjoyable humor. But if frown is shown, I am just as sorrow, knowing every pain within. I don't smile only because it will look good; I don't laugh if it is lame; and I don't pull myself down unnecessarily. I am happy or sad, because I am. Not to please anyone. 

I'm just honest to myself. I don't know how to act and react with a purpose. I don't suddenly turn into an obedient creature to make myself look good. I don't change my preference in an instant to blend with the crowd. I don't pretend, because to pretend is to lie. It is easy to pretend or lie. I choose something more challenging; I choose to be honest, because I am. Not to please anyone. 

If you think I should be otherwise, I know I'm not the one. It should just be anyone else. It could be that person, but not me. So go ahead and get that anyone else. I can't give something that I just haven't got....I can't please everyone. 

Anyone is just everyone needs. Ironic. 

disconnected connections

Hey, anyone heard of or remembered the story about a little kid trying to 'buy' her father's time? Ya, it goes something about a girl longing to see her busy father attending her school's concert. Like said, the father is always busy for work, for money. The girl understood the father's responsibilities, but so much wanted just 2 hours of his time attending her performance. And so she paid her father few hundred bucks and made him coming to the concert instead of at work. 

Ending / Moral of the story? Go and ask google. If I continue the story telling, people may be bored to a saddening death. 

----------------------

And so, I am very very happy today. It is a good good feeling when precious time is spent with your loved one. There are just some moment when you need to disconnect, in order to be connected again. 

How I loved the trip to Titi Jelebu (where Dad was singing like no one's business) and so did the data lines, phone lines, whatever lines are finally resting in peace. That was the place and time when we really talked. Nonsense or otherwise, not applicable. That was when we really belonged to each other. That was happiness and togetherness.  

Yes, we often forget reality when happiness is in concern. We need to work because we need monies. Minions too need to work for bananas *huh?!? 

Okay, I mean quality time. Not quantifying  it by day or month or year. See, that little girl just needed 2 hours. And after the father really did spent 2 hours with her.....the world didn't stop, the family didn't die of hunger, he didn't go bankrupt and the mother could still afford another Prada for xmas! *okayssss the prada was just to add spice. 

No one can really be super rich. And those special moment is the essence to get things going so you can really be super damn rich. Believe me. More often than not, special moments don't cost you too much. In fact, simplicity works best. 

Try it out. Go cross the calendar now. Show your darling that those depicts Dating Day/Couple Day/Darling Day...just name it. And just try, put down your work awhile, shoulder down and relax...and be yourself again. Enjoy the moment of happiness. Rejoice the moment of togetherness. 

It's worth it. Better than your pay-slip. *wink

the Clover's tale

everywhere you go..

Everywhere you go 

a piece of my soul follows

Down to the sea

Dancing in glee

You said, baby look that's sharky!

and there I am following 

everywhere you go

Everywhere you go 

my heart ties a pretty ribbon

a gift so sweet you've given

like bunny slides into chocolate heaven

hooray ! world of candies, marshmallows and lollipops

And there you are, taken my heart to

everywhere you go

Everywhere you go

Hold my hand and soar me high

Fly me up up up to the sky!

And there sunshine rays

let's hear what chirpy chip chip has to say

oh singing songs of love

melodies carry me and follows

everywhere you go

Everywhere you go

you'd bring me to

but there is only place where I'd wanted 

somewhere only close to you

everywhere you go...

for hubby

©ar•te•nus\

letter from the Memoir

Hey dude,

I am dedicating this for the Future. In so much Hope that this will magically soothe all Pain and Disappointment that you have been through. There will be a vacuum of Memories, that cannot be left behind. And the same ol' fashion words of Bereavement will come to you. At that moment of Lost, there is nothing more precious than Silence, but that can be rare then. Even if people are not speaking to you, your Inner voice would Haunt you down. It preys on the Weak one, and it will be more difficult to even lift your lashes. You just want to Sleep, and never  wake up. Your Dreams are much kinder than reality. 

Let me share this Story with you:

I met a guy at the bar one day, he seems to be very composed yet chatty. And there he cracked a very simple but funny joke. We all laughed mad. That was a good one. And then several minutes later, he cracked that same joke. Some laughed, and others thought awhile. And soon later, he cracked the same joke again, exactly. This time no one laughed. I can't help but asked him why. No one will laugh at a repeating joke! He said, "yea, that's true. No one laugh at the same thing more than once or twice. But then, tell me why would people want to cry for the same pain, again and over again?"

And thus I said, "Tears are words that can't be spoken because it is too agonizing to even think of how to describe it"

Well, yes it feels better when Tears roll down cheeks. But it feels better Temporarily. One day, when you find the courage to describe those Pain in

words...you are truly Free. 

Spread your wings, and let down the Past. Flap your wings, and live for your Future. 

 

Sincerely,

your Present

©ar•te•nus\

en·clo·sure [en-kloh-zher]

Today.... This dusk, I have stood by the bay
where the last leaf falls,
fallen from the empire of spring
back to earth, return to only soil
so original...so far away

It takes only so much courage
beneath this weary soul
so breathless, searching nonetheless
that long lost doomed world of trust
Imaginations, dreams...dreams far away imaginative
fire burns in shackle of lies...
rain envelopes every drop of impurity
en route freedom, of no return

Plant a seed, let live
Let breath, every single gasp of life
Let love, every moment of reminiscence
never way backwards, only forth
marching through all dust of doubts
End this war within this weary soul.....
Let go

Thunders roars...concealing jittery heart beat
of mine...here
I can step out now....for I have retreated with victory
Somehow fidgety, am waiting
this small little hands....
will be gloved with that ensuring palms
yet again...and again...
forever

© ar•te•nus\

Quote the day

I am screaming within

There are really too many things that a smart women shouldn't know. Adversely, a stupid women often looks more demure, adorable and wanted. Because they are just plain, if not stupid. C'mon sisters, this is not an attack note. This is just a single stone dropped into a still pond, muddles are formed. I am caught in the muddle.

Sometimes, I write to remind myself of things. Sometimes, I write to forget things. Irregardless, these are just some very personal outputs. Pardon me.

I often have no idea what's a perfect relationship all about. I am naively vague because I have never believed in perfections, I believe only the right thing to do (or to know, in this context). I don't know what bygones are bygones, because the perfect scenarios are now, here and it is. I believe in reincarnation, but I beieve more in karma. There must be a reason for every decisions made, and the effects are only raised thereafter. It startled me, I might be wrong. So so fucking wrong. I am never this sure that I am wrong, but things get worse when I am 'fucking' wrong. I am screaming within. Can you hear me?

I was just asked to raise my pen about honesty and trust in a recent forum. Being akwardly smart (as I am perceived) I have brushed that forum with flying colors. I am very proud when the crookies 'liked' my column, and I have a gang of unwittingly smart seniors supporting me as always. They are my virtual victory. That is when I feel total transparency. I don't utter, I don't pause, I don't have second thaughts when I write. But only when I write. WHY I can't be this when I speak. If only I can. If only I want?

I don't want to talk about my past because I don't want to appear smart (or stupid) irregardless. If all of us are here for some karmic reason in our past lives, don't you think there are too many past chapters to reveal, afterall? When will all these epic gonna come to a close?

But I am screaming within, because I am burdened by your past into my future. I am questioning every logic of how could this be this way. As it is now? Can I just live in now, and march forward to whatever fucking future it may take ahead? Why let me have a grasp of something I was not (and never be) in a picture in the past? I am very exhausted by your past, even suffocating. Stop feeding me your past, please. This makes a difference between a smart women and a stupid women. A smart women don't need to know your past. Because once she does, she feels outright like a fucking dumb blonde. Flat stupid. And you know how painful it is for a smart women to know she is indeed stupid afterall? Worse, I tell you. Worse than a stupid women suddenly finds that she is indeed kinda smart in certain ways. Voila!

I feel like a substitute, or even worse. You know, those substitute in a soccer game that is never called upon by that bald manager? Yeah, something like that.
I feel like a toy, or even worse. You know, those toy that are back handed at home, where no one really wanna drop by and give a sincere hug. Yeah, something like that.
I feel like a fool, or even worse. You know, those fool that thinks only the beautiful things, but in fact everyone knows how unworthy and second class you are. Yeah, something like that.
I feel like a dreamer, or even worse. I am always dreaming about such positive dreams, that goodness begets goodness. No, things can be somewhat ugly, but I didn't see it that way. I should learn to be today.

I so wished that I am forever living in the virtual world. My world of lotsa lotsa lotsa writings. A place where I can be truthful, and say what I mean, and be mean with whatever I say. That is like nirvana.

I wish more for a world where fairness prevails. Where good intentions will blossomed in good reactions. Only good karma creates more good karma. A place where I am loved for, and truly loved for. So truly that it is a good karmic effect. So as when I leave, I'd leave with nothing but just love. Pure love, Pure intentions.

© ar•te•nus\

down down memory bank

I don't usually look at old picture the way I did tonight. Hmm...familiar faces here and there. But tonight, even those old conversations are echoing right into my ear as I flicked through each photographs. I remembered the place, what we were celebrating, what I had for intoxicating alcohols, which cigarette brand I puffed away...yes puffed away are those memories in those photographs. Nothing ever seem to be a status quo, comparing that and today. Friends become acquaintances, colleagues become buddies, rich (in the heart) become poor, tall (ambitions) become short, partners become rivals, hi-bye become soul mates.... Whatever. 

Met as strangers

Parted as friends

Fated as lovers 

Faith belongs

I must really thank a group of people that moulded me as I am today. These people gave great karmic effect on me in the past lives that You have once again touches me in such special arrangement. I saw those pictures, how could you put up to a person so....chaotic? Or why would all of you willingly join me in this never ending crap? Thank you, you and you. I don't need to mention names. Crazy people knows crazy people. 

You only live once, some preaches. I say, you only die once. I have been. Dead. Once. Enough. It's not like I'd always get a second chance. Who cheats death more than once? Beats me. 

I have moved on. But not so entirely. I know somehow we'd cross paths again. I know when I need to run away, my hands will be taken. Together again. 

BKK-HKG-MNL-KUL. *wink,hugs,kisses xoxo

trust, honesty or....?

I was given a battle between trust and honesty in my latest quest. There certainly was a fierce debate among all, and things falls apart..pretty difficult to comprehend. As I'm mostly known of, you fight the war, I'd stand by to analyze. 

Trust is prominent ingredient that shapes a relationship, almost all kinds of relationships. At home, at work, at play. You gotta trust to gain victory in a team. You better get laid or be defeated. So trust seems to top the chart. Where's next? Honesty? But this seems more like a prerequisite doesn't it? The honesty card is played way before trust gets laid. If not prerequisite, maybe fundamental? It takes years of genuine honesty to turn the table and get trusts. At one moment of dishonesty, does trust diminishes so effectively? So trust works wonders when it 'tags' along with honesty. Who's the big bang then? 

Here comes the brainer. The degree of distinctness proves no ultimate winner in this debate *opps... Who cares. This fella can be speaking million packs of lies and yet people chooses to believe, to trust. Same wave length brings two together. That other brat does nothing but preaches the truth and yet you decide to ignore. Humans, mostly, prefer to listen only things they like to hear. Or worst, there is no room for explanations where people are not interested about.

This is the chicken and egg discovery that bores children (and me). Chicken first or egg first? Let me tell you, chicken soup for the soul, while sunny side up with bacon strips *yayyy hubby getting room service! What, duh! You guys are still figuring which chicken and egg?

And so, I become very picky with debates. I don't spend (or waste) time in findings the unfruitful seed. I'd rather start planting seeds indeed. And whatever that comes out from the soil later, voila! As long I am cultivating (and cultivated) that very precious seed of honesty and trust. 

With this, I guess I'm never invited to forums again *chuckles and so what??!? They know me best. 

T.G.I.HK again

It's Hong Kong .... again. It was freaky cold the last time I came. Now, it's freaky cloudy and gloomy. Summer hasn't make its way here yet. 

Why TGI HK? I never fail to like this place. Yea it's like, not love. This is a pleasant place for visit. No language barrier, food is yummy, transportation is commendable. Some or most people I've met here are chatty. It feels like home, but never like home. 

But I'd rather not stay here like permanently. Nathalie says she lived in approx 400 sqf with her husband. She used to live in 200 sqf before she got a bigger home. Yea bigger home. I am not  trying to be cocky but I can't imagine how big (or small) is 200-400 sqf for a home. Do they want a home, or a house? Eventually? 

I want a home. Somewhere I'd like to stay in, don't feel like going out kinda home. Cozy, and meaningful. It is the content rather than the space. It's in the heart rather than outside. 

So maybe the Hongkie feels the same too. No matter how small, it's still home. I got you. *add oil hongkie!

Small house, big home. 

Booked!

Boys vs Men

When I was in my early twenties, if a guy acted aloof, called back only sometimes and showed minimal interest, I would get hooked. You could say I was addicted to the bad boy/ unavailable boy/ player. I was drawn to what psychotherapist, Ken Page terms as “attractions of deprivation” – when we are drawn to people who embody the worst emotional characteristics of our parents. Basically, the theory explains that we are attracted to people who can wound us the same way we were wounded in our childhood, as our psyche tries to recreate the past void and save us by changing its ending.

“The child in us believes that if the original perpetrators — or their current replacements — finally change their minds, apologize, or make up for that terrible rupture of trust, we can escape from our prison of unworthiness. Our conscious self is drawn to the positive qualities we yearn for, but our unconscious draws us to the qualities which hurt us the most as children.”  - Psychology Today

So games used to work on me because 1) I had unresolved daddy issues and 2) At the tender age of 20, I was trying to figure out who I was and to top it off, I was ridden with insecurity and a low sense of self-worth.

But somewhere in between the passing of a decade, something changed.

I learned to love myself.  I became independent, confident, and started to value my self-worth. I went through hardships and heartbreaks and picked myself back up which built my strength and courage. Instead of relying on beauty as my source of empowerment, I focused on basing my empowerment on my intelligence, successes, values, contributions to the world and how I helped others. In a sense, I finally grew up. I went from being a girl to becoming a woman. And as a woman, you are attracted to very different things than you are as a girl.

A girl is attracted to boys. A woman is attracted to men. Now, this has nothing to do with the actual age of a person. I’m referring to maturity, life vision and stage of life. In fact, some people regardless of their age, will never really grow up.

If you are a girl (lack independence, are ruled by insecurity, lack self-respect, throw tantrums, have princess syndrome, don’t have strong values or boundaries and can’t hold yourself on your own) then expect that you will attract only boys. However, if you are a woman (independent, ambitious, knows your worth and value, has a strong moral compass, is considerate and an able communicator and doesn’t let insecurity dominate your psyche), then you should be dating a man. And if you can’t spot the difference just yet, here are some pointers.

1. A man knows what he wants, and goes for it. A boy may have somewhat of an idea, but not really. He doesn’t think too much about it, and even if he does, doesn’t exert much effort to get it. A boy is passive, a man is assertive.

2. A man plans for his future and is working towards building a foundation and infrastructure in order to have a family (at some point in his life).  A boy lives only in the moment and his plans are mostly around which bar he’s going to hit up on the weekend.

3. A man looks for a woman with intelligence, who is supportive, grounded and encompasses a shared set of values when choosing a partner. A boy cares mostly only for girls who are hot, wild and exciting.

4. A man knows a good woman when he meets one and will take initiative to get to know her. A boy may make an attempt if you’re lucky, but gives up before ever really trying.

5. A man has the courage to have uncomfortable conversations. He is honest with his intentions and lets people know where they stand. A boy avoids. He ignores confrontation or any serious talks about feelings. Instead of dealing with a situation, he runs away from it or creates drama or excuses to mask the fact he’s not that into you or a relationship.

6. A man knows when to invest in a woman and jump in with two feet. A boy is always “testing” – he doesn’t fully commit because he never knows if he is quite ready. But the truth is, because he is a boy, regardless of who he meets, he will never be ready due to the stage of life he is in.

7. A man knows how to have a good time and be social, but is often busy making strides in his career and building his life. A boy is getting crunk with his buddies at the bar every weekend.

8. A man takes the time to reflect on the type of man he wants to be, the example he wants to leave and the vision for his life. He has put thought into his values. A boy has not established his moral compass or values and consequently, is often inconsistent.

9. A man has integrity. He means what he says, and says what he means. He has follow through and actions his promises. And if he can’t he has the guts to tell you why. A boy makes promises but doesn’t follow through.

10. A man is afraid of rejection but will put himself out there anyway. A boy is afraid of rejection and acts passive so that his pride and ego won’t ever get too banged up.

Now, a lot of these differences require taking the time to know someone to figure out if the apple of your eye is indeed a man, or a mere boy. However, one of the quickest filters that you can notice from the beginning is this:

11. A boy plays games. A man doesn’t.

*To clarify, when I’m referring to “games” I mean mind games.

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