When I go out to meet the light, the shadow of my body follows me, but the shadow of my spirit precedes me and leads the way to an unknown place
- Kahlil Gibran

Sunday, December 13, 2009

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.

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