breaky break
I've come to appreciate the fact that the more time I spend away from my work, the more enthusiastic I am to return to it. Being disciplined is not about keeping to an intensive schedule; being disciplined is about forcing yourself to rest when you
know you need it even though you may not
feel like it. Because ultimately your body needs to rest, and if you don't do it periodically, it's likely that you will take a much longer break to recover from the continuous studying and being burnt out. And then it becomes an even bigger waste of time. Plus, with a clutter-free brain, my thoughts are sharpened and polished with less effort. So rest is indeed beneficial; I just need to remind myself constantly.
mind over matter
my afternoon nap dreams are becoming more and more intense. take just now. i dreamt that i was back in my secondary school and playing around in the common area. my sister was there too, and in an untypical fashion she whacked my head with a hard, plastic waterbottle. those colourful ones that we used to carry when we were much younger. i felt the blow went right through my head, the wind was literally sucked out of me. suddenly everywhere became fainter and fainter. i struggled to stand, but eventually caved in to the weakness of my limbs and staggered abruptly to the ground. it was like a fainting spell. with my barely-there sight, i made out two security guards rushing forward, with utmost concern written all over their faces. one of them held me by my armpits and hoisted me to my feet, and slowly walked me to the canteen. i remembered lumbering my way to the canteen chairs, all the time feeling groggy and weak, and silently cursing my sis for behaving in such a rough manner. anyhow, the rest of the dream was spent just sitting in the canteen and recovering from the blow. i could very well imagined that if i had not suffered such a severe throbbing in my dream, i would have woken up much sooner. but because of the extreme realness of the pain, i felt my body telling my mind that i had to continue sleeping in order for me to fully recover, even though i somehow knew that the pain wasn't real.
it's a classic case of mind over body, albeit the wrong way round.
memories
one of the best ways to recollect memories is by reading emails, and the only way you can do so is by having an account as large as gmail's. i like reading what i wrote (it gives me a sense of the kind of person i was at that stage of my life or the frame of mind i was in when i was composing those emails), so i zoomed in on the 'sent mail' and selected interesting conversations to read. faces, voices, laughter, smells slowly flowed back to me. i literally spent my entire evening just staring into space, reminiscing the carefree days of youth, recalling more difficult times, and finally wondering whether and how all these experiences make up who i am today. are we really the sum of our past? i don't know. i've always prided myself in being able to sift the positive from the negative, and being affected is a choice in itself. but perhaps this constant sieving has become such an integral part of me only because of the existence of such experiences.
eyes away
After days of being glued to the screen of this wretched laptop, I've finally decided to tear myself away from it and feast my eyes on some tangible words. Congratulate me, I'm
sorta done with my corporate crime essay, although I'm overshot by 100+ words, there's extra information I still want to add, language needs major polishing and the footnotes look atrocious. But I don't care. My eyes need a break. My brain needs to relax. I need to read. Anything. Be it leisure or even preparing for my next assignment. I cannot bear looking at the essay any longer.
freedom
Staying at home all day long is not for the faint-hearted. What I once revelled in, I now thoroughly detest. The quietness I sought after, the solitude I desired, were but empty concoctions of my over-imaginative mind. Stress is not the friend of seclusion; one can only find peace in one's lonesome self if one's mind is set free.
the ravages of time
Time is merciless.
Just returned from malaysia. I had accompanied my dad to visit his old classmate, and he was telling me how much he couldn't recognise him because it was some 30 years ago since they last met up. I was surprised because I thought his friend looked young for his age, so there should be some resemblance to his younger self. During dinner, my dad suddenly decided to rummage through our photo cupboard and brought out his old photos, whereupon he produced evidence which proved just how much his friend had morphed. Needless to say, I was completely blown away by the difference. Indeed, my dad's friend looked nothing like his younger photos. See what time does to youth.
After dinner, the three of us (dad, mum and me) sat ourselves on the sofa, with my dad in the middle holding the album, giving us a commentary on each and every photo. I saw the younger photos of my aunts (and how pretty they were last time!), photos of my uncles (the young hunks posing confidently) and of course, younger photos of my dad and mum (this was the shocker!). Admittedly this was not the first time I've seen their younger photos, but still! My mom had such high cheekbones when she smiled and my dad was quite the looker, haha. They really did look like the perfect couple. It's just mind-blowing to know how time has wore them down. Beauty truly does come from simply being young.
Sometimes it's weird knowing that your parents are human too. They dated, they fell in love, got married, and had us. Nevertheless, it is still reassuring to know that nothing you do wrong now (or in the past) will ever really have a very major impact on you in the future. Life just goes on. It may seem too big to bear now, but really, 30 years down the road, no one remembers, and no one cares. The only thing that matters is being with your family and loved ones. My parents have survived their days of youth, and they are happy now. That's enough.
I wonder how I will look like in 30 years' time though. Heh, it's a scary thought.
dong, dong dong chiang
I love sniffing the spirit of chinese new year in the air. It's just so warm and crisp and welcoming. Every chinese friend is getting ready to eat reunion dinner tonight; every chinese friend is prepared to observe the same traditions as you do. Perhaps that's the true reason of traditions? Nothing more than to forge this invisible bond we have with people of our own skin colour? Never mind what those traditions may mean? Chinese new year plant (the leaves that look like arrowhead), chinese new year goodies, oranges, spring-cleaning, no sweeping on the first day, big reunion dinners, hongbaos, wear red. I wonder if I am able to continue observing these traditions strictly to pass it on. My parents' generation grew up in a culture where their parents taught them everything they needed to know about chinese new year, and they obediently kept those traditions. But the environment I am nurtured in did not allow me to internalise these things; my parents simply continued doing the traditions without involving me or explaining to me the reasons behind them. Oh well. Maybe it will come naturally when the next generation arrives, that inexplicable desire to pass on whatever little you know to them.
Happy, happy chinese new year!
for the love of humanity
haven't had a free day to myself for a long time... better start getting used to it, sigh.I'm currently doing a paper on fraud, and the topic I've chosen to do is on insurance fraud. Having found a dearth of materials in the law library, I had no choice but to head down to the Hon Sui Sen Memorial library located at the Business School (which is now
all the way at kent ridge) to source out for more material. They certainly have interesting books that take a different perspective. While the materials in the law library focused mainly on how the insureds/claimants try to cheat the insurance company by filing false or exaggerated claims, the books in the business library drew upon the unscrupulous methods which the insurance companies employ NOT to pay legitimate claims. This particular book written by Ray Bourhis, an American lawyer, illustrates a compelling story of how a woman who, disabled by a sharp pain beneath her elbow and could no longer practice chiropractic, was denied her rightful benefits for the reason that she was not
entirely disabled because she could still do
book-keeping. Sigh. Sometimes these stories really show how words in any context can be twisted and manipulated to the meaning you want. The compassionate spirit that supposedly pervades all humanity has been destroyed, all in the name of profits.
Surprisingly (or unsurprisingly), the study of law is basically the study of human behaviour. The cases I read just makes me wonder how such people can exist in the world (and further begs the question: are they really made in the image of God?) Sigh. I wonder if it's too naive of me to think right now that I will try to stand on the side of justice instead of the side of my clients (assuming these stands don't coincide). I wonder how much of myself I will lose when I begin practising. Will I continue to struggle doing the right thing, or will I gradually become weary and let myself be washed away with society's indoctrination?
I finally understand why being a christian and living in this world is so terribly heavy.
a quiet rest
so today is supposed to be special? big hairy deal.
ah well, i'm just tired. my time has suddenly freed up so much. so much so that i actually find the time to do my personal reading on top of my law readings. so that's what i'm doing tonight. just staying at home, curled up on my big comfy sofa and reading to my heart's content. i find solace in words.
survived miraculously
I think God has done it again.
I was "on the spot" this week for my module of securities regulation, meaning my tutor would be asking me (along with a few others) for answers to our tutorial sheets, which was good in a sense I would have time to read through the materials and prepare my answers. But last week had been a time-management nightmare, coupled with a not-so-fitful sleep last night, I was really in no mood to answer. But knowing how he calls on people chronologically, and seeing how I was last on the list, I decided to take the risk and just prepared for the last few questions. But for some strange reason, I did nothing for the hypothetical (which was right at the end), because I didn't believe he would be so cruel as to ask one person to go through the entire scenario. But surprise, surprise, he did. And when he called my name and asked me to "take us through" the hypothetical, I made a sound of utter disbelief, so loud that I invited a stare from a fellow classmate (whom I never talk to) to turn around and look at me. There was a few seconds of silence while my tutor took his time to clean the board. I read the hypothetical in double-quick time, trying to glean whatever information and issues I could, all the time praying fervently in my heart asking God to help me say something useful. When my tutor finally turned around looking at me expectantly, I found my voice and said something rather basic. And I guess from there it got better. He's generally a helpful tutor and will guide the student along if he/she seems to fumble. I managed to engage in a somewhat credible discussion with him (along with the input of other students) using pure commonsense. I have to admit, I haven't really been keeping up with the readings of this class, so everything is a blur to me. Sigh. But thankfully, I managed to survive without looking too much like a fool.
I think my real problem is not being used to hearing myself in a room full of silence, and knowing that everyone is listening intently to what I have to say. Perhaps once I get used to it, and overcome the fear of thinking that whatever I say is rubbish, and thinking that people are going to be all judgmental on me, it gets better.
Sigh. It'll be better.
back to work
sigh, my nose is back to the grindstone once more. no more feeling like i'm on perpetual holiday. discipline needs to be instilled back into my life. it's good for me, i know, and i'm not sure whether i would have wished it otherwise, but nonetheless such rational thinking prove fruitless in the face of heartfelt reality.
growing up
It's been a rush-rush week. My window periods of rest are virtually non-existent. But thankfully, one of my four assignments is down, so I've got 3 more to go. Hm.. Now I wonder when I'm going to find the time to seriously mull over them, especially when their deadlines are all around the same time. Sigh. I remembered when I was in year 2, my senior in law vcf cell group was complaining about how all the deadlines of his assignments seem to clash, and how he was super stressed by it. I remembered thinking to myself, oh my gosh, thankfully I'm still in year 2, I'm not going to be able to handle it if I were in his position. How ironic. I've landed myself in the same situation as he did. Yet interestingly enough, the fear of being unable to tackle them has vanished, and is replaced by a quiet sense of confidence. Stressed as I may be, I know that eventually I'll get round to completing them. I daresay it's a combination of the rigorous legal training that the school puts us through and the growing realisation of one's inner ability to handle difficult situations that gives me this strength within to conquer. Growing up certainly opens one's mind to greater strength and endless possibilities.
time, strength, God
Time is ticking too fast. As usual, I've too many things and only two hands. Everyone seems to be ping-ponging me left and right. Deadlines are nearing, unfinished assignments give me sleepless nights. Parents stress me out with unsupportive comments. I give myself too much pressure to be superhuman. I must remember I am only flesh; my mind and body still succumb to the frailties of this world. See me through this final week, God, and thereafter, take good care of my intellectual and emotional beings.
