Wow

Yesterday I went to the passport office in another fruitless attempt to conclude an endless series of visits to renew my passport. Over the past 3 months I've literally been there about a dozen times, so that now I think I can drive my car down the winding ramps to the visitor underground parking on level P5 by muscle memory. Ordinarily renewing the passport is automated and takes one day. But I have this curse... I am cursed to suffer in all matters of immigration.

The curse was first realized many many years ago during my university days in Vancouver when my friend's dog made her way into my school bag drawn by the scent of a beef sandwich. Incredibly, the mutt found the taste of my immigration papers that I had kept in my bag more appealing than the sandwich itself. Two thirds of the document was in her belly before I knew something was amiss, while the sandwich was untouched.

I remember that process to replace that document. It took months to replace it because somehow, the process of replacing those papers mysteriously got stalled somewhere in Ottawa. I had to make a visit to the immigration office again after 2 months to inquire about it since I needed the papers to enlist in the Canadian military as a reservist. That delay meant I missed the enrollment for that summer. And that summer instead of learning about armored reconnaissance, I had met my first girlfriend in a nightclub.

Eventually those papers were replaced. The best the Canadian authorities could do was to provide me with a signed photocopy of the original which by then was fertilizing my friend's backyard. And so, the shady appearance of the replacement immigration papers would torment me on many occasions as I traversed the borders into the United States. Each time I tried to explain the photocopy along with the mangled torn corner of the original, the US immigration officer or airline check-in person would typically look at me with an incredulous look that said "yeah, right buddy, couldn't you have come up with a more compelling story?". I actually missed a flight once to return to California because the US embassy, being closed on a Sunday, could not corroborate that the document was valid.

But even when this document became obsolete by the issue of a work VISA, my cross-border harassment would persist. There was that time when my friendly US immigration officer by the name of Gao sought to get to know me intimately, and once again I missed my flight.

As for the current entanglement, I had applied for a new passport in order to attend my younger brother's wedding ceremony taking place in Fiji. I had given myself 3 weeks to get this done, turns out it was not enough. They wanted a whole month because my passport had been damaged by water. I'll take some responsibility for that part, I had inadvertently put it in the laundry. But I think the curse made me do it.

So, thus began a series of visits with lots of ticket pulling, every visit begins with a number on a piece of paper. I wrote a letter of appeal to expedite the process, and then there were interviews, they wanted to see the wedding invitation, then there were phone calls to follow up... more visits... by then I had gotten to know one female officer in charge of my case like family. So it felt natural to tell her in half-jest, half-desperation, that I'd bring her to the wedding with me in Fiji if she could just get the passport to me on time. Alas, it was not to be. Maybe she didn't like weddings, or the sun and clear blue waters; but in the end, I missed my brother's wedding. It was the most bitter moment of 2009 for me.

For over a month I avoided the passport office, then starting a couple of weeks ago I began the trips again. The ensuing visits were often a waste of time - obscenely long lines, counters closed for the day, I forgot the collection receipt, etc. Gradually, almost miraculously, the process reached the final stage, the passport was ready for pickup. But when I went yesterday to collect it with my collection receipt firmly in hand,... my ID was not in my wallet. A meltdown followed, the histrionics included me wanting the curse to materialize so I could go 12 rounds in the boxing ring with it. I simply couldn't find my ID anywhere.

Today I took the day off work to handle a police report for my lost ID, then apply for a new ID, then pickup the passport with my temporary replacement ID AND register a personal business. All involving government offices and worse, on a Friday, which meant a half-day since the offices would be closed earlier for muslim prayers. After the experience with the passport office, I was anticipating a nightmare of a day, maybe even a week or month.

But today, the light was shining on me brightly. There were no obstacles at all. The police officers were kind, and later, the ID office was not overrun by a mob, in fact it was quite modern and relaxing. After the fiasco with the passport office, this place seemed like the First Class lounge for Virgin Airlines. Believe it or not, in a matter of 90 minutes, I had knocked off ALL the items on the agenda save for the business registration.

Sustainable Development

Are we going to make it as a species?

Last weekend I was invited to attend a gathering to raise awareness about Sustainable Development. After reading "Last Hours of Ancient Sunlight" by Thom Hartmann, I've been drawn to this subject. There were many performances and speeches at the gathering by young adults, one in particular was quite clever - a percussion performance using recycled items. For me, this video shown was stirring enough to warrant this post. It was given in 1992 by a 12 year old girl at the UN earth summit. I am glad to be able to share the video here.

And this movie is also worth your while - HOME.

Here's a thought that occurred to me today. When was the last time any of us touched our planet? I mean physically touched it perhaps by walking barefoot or reaching out to a tree, putting our toes in the ocean. I haven't for a while now... I am guilty of taking this planet for granted. My own home.

The Law of Attraction

Growing up, I never thought I'd be unmarried at my age. But the future has a way of eluding our imagination. I don't feel much unease about being unmarried, instead I am grateful for the greater opportunity to learn about relationships between men and women or the masculine and feminine. And believe me, how my opinions have evolved over the years as I go through my experiences. I will reserve these findings for another post.

For most of my life I've felt the urge to avoid loneliness, maybe I still do and instead the loneliness is being replaced by aloneness. For these days I feel the aloneness as a gift, particularly when I am in true pursuit of my highest calling or simply put enlightened knowing. In my heart I know that she and I will meet. For it would be quite tragic to go through all this inner work without sharing the fruits of a fearless love for another with someone. In truth, my desire for that higher place attainable by two hearts has been some of the impetus for The Bright Path.

As a child I remember my desire for that intense union with the feminine. A heady yearning of an young eager untarnished heart enflamed by enchantment spun by pop songs on the radio. As night I would dream as I listened to the songs carried by vivid imagery - the long goodbye at the train station in summer rain, the dizzying first kiss outside the dance hall as the music plays, on a blanket on a grassy knoll undressing her on a sunny spring day and the warm breeze carrying the scent of lilac... I've known the scent of her hair, smell of her skin etc. so many times. Gradually that dream turned into fantasy as I stumbled through my relationships; and then eventually the fantasy too was forgotten, overshadowed by the belief that I was not worthy of Her.

So I've felt I've needed to clean up some things inside, believe once again in my worthiness. It cannot be found until I've at least liked who I am, and dare I say love who I am. And so, this has been the focus of the work of removing the fears and limiting beliefs. From the outside nothing much has changed about my life, yet on the inside I feel as though mountains have shifted. The fears are diminished, the inner Judge rebuked and the inner child awakened. For as long as I can remember, only now I feel attractive. I am worthy, I can feel it because at last I believe it. Wait for me, I will find you.

Twas the night before Christmas

Here it is upon me once again that time of year when the days seem compressed into a frenzy of purchases crammed into an already overloaded routine of work, personal and family life. Once again my family has gathered from around the world here in Midvalley except for my younger brother who is celebrating with his new wife in Texas where they live. Both of my brothers married in this year.

And once again the decorations festoon, the carols play to herald the acknowledgement of the birth of Jesus the Son of Man. And who is He? Well, there are many versions, many opinions and mine has evolved though my respect and admiration for the man has not waned. He is to me, my most cherished bringer of the Light to the world. To light the way, to awaken and free us from slavery and blindness. The Good News is here.

And yet this year, personally I have a detachment from Christmas. This year I am not swept away in the euphoria or is it the insanity of the advent season as the rest of this society seems to have been from my vantage point living here in the heart of the most popular shopping center in all of the country - a place I commonly refer to as 'MadValley" instead of 'Midvalley'.

Nay, this year perhaps it is the burden of my job here in Malaysia that has increased in weight upon my shoulders as the year draws close, a frantic hustle dealing with issues constantly leaves me numb and frayed. I've worked through most weekends this month. The difference in working environments between Asia and North America has been indelibly impressed upon me by now.

Or perhaps it is the barrage of the mob of the shoppers that force their way into Midvalley, my dining ventures into the masses feels like a minnow dodging a school of grown tuna. And surely also a factor, this observation that as the size of the masses grows the more absurd Christmas has become. As with things that become rote, the spirit is lost in the doing. It has become mandated by some higher power that I suspect to be capitalist, that on this day all people who have a concern for their reputation or stake in their job shall make purchases for people that they often barely know, buying them things they don't really want with money and time that they don't really have. And the wheels of the economy grind a few more degrees as our consumerism reaches new heights...

Sitting in my car attempting to come home from a long day at work but caught in an outrageous jam of shoppers, I wondered to what extent can this mass spectacle be drawn? With exploding population growth, everyone doing the same thing on the same day is bound to have its physical limits. So this year I have chosen to rebel and step out of the mob as much as I can. It is my contribution to the rest of the crowd to allow them more room. I shall risk that my friends relatives will continue to love me just the same if I do not produce a wrapped gift on Xmas day. Forgive me that the ever mounting burden of a job and scarcity of space and time both current trends of modern society at large has burgeoned to finally displace tradition. Is the material worth of an item given truly a measure of how much someone means to you? Not likely but we have been programmed to believe so at some level.

Perhaps in the future when a less frantic pace of life and less hampered place of living once again is my fortune then perhaps a return to the simple celebration of being with loved ones without undue distractions shall once again be.

Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good-night...

Lessons from my cousin

I've been spending the weekend with my 13 year old cousin - E. She came to stay with me and my mother who is herself staying the month because of the holiday season. She has this quality of curiosity, innocence and sweetness that is so compelling.

Maybe it is her age, but she strikes me as someone that doesn't question her worthiness to be loved, it is refreshing to spend time with someone as such. Having her around has affected the ambience at home, now the energy at home seems fresher and more dynamic, like a window left open on a spring day. I enjoy interacting with her, she sees the world so differently. There are minimal assumptions on her part, and she catches humor and irony in many situations that adults tend to overlook. I suppose in that way she reminds me of The Little Prince. For example, when the 3 of us were sitting at a restaurant and 3 servers came to serve me my beer that I had ordered, she remarked how absurd it was. "One to hold the bottle opener, one to hold the beer and one to speak", she laughed. The novelty of the situation had escaped me entirely, perhaps I was too preoccupied with crafting an intelligent and refined manner. And when she laughs, it is unrestrained and infectious without any undertones nor is there any no pause whatsoever to assess the appropriateness of it.

E is incredibly gifted in music. She is a prodigy in that sense if I ever met one. In fact I have admired all my cousins on my mother's side for their talent for music, it seems they picked it up overnight and I have been envious of their magical creative expressions. It is SO nourishing for the spirit to do so. To me, musicians are also magicians for ability to change the composure of a space magically and instantly. I can imagine that doing so is like methamphetamine for the soul, it's almost unfair to everyone else seeking that sort of contentment. Yet, E stands out from my talented cousins - she learned the organ a few years ago and had performed on TV.

And then a month ago, she picked up the guitar and taught herself how to play it. She gave us a performance of some Taylor Swift and Xmas carols, but what really moved me was a song that she had composed herself. I could only listen and bask in the purity of her creation, her voice doused out the din of the rest of the world.

Yesterday we stopped at 7-11 on the way to the tennis court. She carried her guitar so she could practice her songs while I practiced some tennis serves. As we stood at the cash register, I encouraged her to perform her song in front of the two service clerks. Initially shy and reluctant, but then as she strummed the guitar, a connection instantly occurred between us - I felt precisely the same smile of gratitude, joy and wonder that was written on their faces. It was a sort of miracle. And later as I practiced my tennis serves, I felt so proud of her for I knew that her song was being carried to the open windows of the tenants surrounding the tennis court.

I took her to a Karaoke at the mall because she had never been to one. We had a grand time singing our hearts out to all kinds of songs. Then as we walked home through the mall she grabbed my hand so we could walk hand-in-hand, my immediate reaction was how this might be misperceived and I found myself looking for an innocuous moment to slip my hand out of her grasp. Then I came to my senses over how foolish I was being, this was my typical reaction whenever any sort of girl held my hand and yet here was my own dear cousin. I realized that the time was not far off when my cousin would no longer reach for my hand, once she had 'grown up'. So I held her hand with gratitude and felt loved as we walked home.

I had an opportunity to have an uninterrupted conversation with her after a swim one Saturday morning. As we sat on the deck chairs under an umbrella, I took the chance to speak some words of wisdom hoping to imbue a sense of responsibility and heightened consciousness in her. Things I had learned from books, life and that I wish I had been told when I was her age. I think the only things that she really got from me was: "just because everyone thinks something, it doesn't make it true", and she could readily understand my lengthy discourse on how important it was for us to live in harmony with nature. She listened without interruption, with undivided attention. I wondered if I was perhaps marring her innocence with the heaviness of the topics I was sharing and so I stopped after awhile. I suddenly felt old... and for the first time it occurred to me that my cousin could have been my daughter. I was actually that much older than her, funny... it had never dawned on me before.

Now that she's left, I've realized that my 13 year old cousin imparted me more knowledge about living than I did to her about life. And it was all just from her BEING - simple invaluable lessons in how to brighten ones path. Live freely, play/create/listen to music as much as you can, laugh without restraint, be fearless, love and do not doubt that you are loved always.

Her song...

Catching up with an old friend

Until today my friend J and I had not met for a few years. We've known each other since we were 10 years old and were very close as kids. Our families were good friends.

He moved to California before I did; and there he met a lovely girl and married her. I had the fortune of attending their wedding in California since I had moved there by then. When his work permit could not be renewed easily he and H left for England to work for awhile before returning to Malaysia.

I had not seen them since until I was startled at a restaurant near my work during lunch break last week. A woman standing beside my table called my name and I didn't recognize her until she told me hers. And then it became quite obvious that I should recognize her, she was J's wife. She too worked in the area and was on her lunch break. We exchanged numbers and this afternoon we all met for lunch along with their 2 year old son.

Catching up I learned that J had quit his job a year ago and lost 15 kg in the 2 months bracketing that occasion because he was consumed by the stress of the life altering decision. "I couldn't endure a job that seemed to go nowhere. I had always felt that there was more for me", he said. A part of him felt unfulfilled and he couldn't ignore it any longer. Hearing him say that reminded me of what compelled me to leave California in the first place.

And so now he was working full time on a novel and looked well - happy. I was surprised, I had known J was creative from the romantic artwork and poetry he had crafted around his apartment in California largely dedicated to his wife. I had looked at it and used to wonder if I could ever meet someone who inspired me to such degree. But I had not known he had a passion for writing. Apparently he didn't ever think he could write in volume either, he admitted. But the fictional piece that he was working on was something he was so passionate about that he loathed to spend any time away from it. I envied him saying that. "Another one breaks free to live from his heart and chase his dreams", I thought to myself. I then felt abashed over how I had been consumed once again by the grind of a job that served to further enrich vastly over-paid executives.

I asked him what the topic was and he said that it was about long distance running and then added almost reluctantly that it was also of romantic love. "But it's not a romance, romance novel", he insisted. It bothered him when people instantly categorized it as such. It impressed me that he was writing this book, I knew he was not a runner by any loose use of the term. It didn't daunt him. "It's like as though the story just comes through me", he explained. I knew what he was speaking about, there were some blogs I had written that seemed to be channeled rather than originating from me.

As we parted ways, we agreed to get together once in awhile to work. I thought it to be a great way to spend time with someone at a cafe with our laptops, him working on his novel and me blogging or working the job.

Tai Chi updated

For over a month now I've been practicing Tai Chi daily. I had been looking to get into Tai Chi ever since my first exposure to it in New Zealand but it had seemed rather inaccessible to me until the yoga studio that I practice at started offering it a few months back.

Prior to joining this class, I had tried to learn with a private Tai Chi instructor but it didn't quite work out. There were two reasons for this, one was the language barrier and the other was that it just didn't seem like Tai Chi. I tried 3 lessons then gave up, I remember having to check each at each lesson to confirm that he was teaching Tai Chi because it really seemed more like ballet or ballroom dancing. At one point, we were literally dancing arm around each other and he was telling me in broken English that I was 'the girl', I think it was at that moment that I decided to quit.

Now, I have access to a class with other beginner participants. It's also nice to expand into a new circle of friends. One of them is passionate about tea and he's been trained by the Tai Chi master in the art of Chinese tea ceremony. He seems to have a long standing relationship with Master Lim as his protege, he clearly adulates the man. "Master Lim only learned until Grade 2, but he is an expert on Chinese history, tea, Tai Chi and Chinese medicine", he said once. And so I held a tea ceremony in my apartment a few days ago with some of the classmates. It lasted a few hours, there were many kinds of tea, and it was a great way to socialize around a table.

Tai Chi means "Ultimate Form" and it originated over a thousand years ago in China. It was initiated as a means of self-defense for monks or spiritual folk in general since they were otherwise often trounced by bandits as easy prey. The routine I am learning in the long Chuan style and it has 108 steps in it. We've covered only a fraction of them.

I practice it every morning right after my Ascension; it helps to still the mind, and increase my body awareness and balance. I always start with some Chi Kung as a warm-up to get the Chi moving. 'Chi' becomes more of a fixture of reality as I awaken it through Chi Kung and Tai Chi.

From the outside it doesn't appear to be much, it is not impressive to look at nor does it seem to serve much purpose - it is "stillness in motion". Some mornings I even find myself wanting to skip the practice because I am short of time, it seems to be the easiest way to make more time if I did so. But I've learned that the things that appear most insignificant tend to have the largest impact and TaiChi falls into that. Over this time, I have grown in confidence, poise, focus and all areas of my life are enhanced - sports, professionally, relationships, sexually.