amazing

It had been quite an amazing and fruitful year for me. I believe it would be for yours too. Amazing and fruitful, no matter what, doesn’t matter if its a happy for sad one, as long as you see yourself through this year conquering all your emotions.

Let’s talk about national service. I am, currently, serving my national service. The start of the year I’m just someone new in my unit, now I’m an IC of a team. It may not be what I want but it is an achievement.

I am in the navy. I learnt traditions of the navy. Colours, heads, galley, cabin, etc. Interesting to know, something many people outside wouldn’t know. Many of my friends are in the army, I’m one of the selected few to be in the navy.

I made quite a few friends in the navy. I am pretty sure they would still be my good friends even when I’m in the next path of life. Shant name any in case I missed some names it wouldn’t be nice. They know who are they.

Three paragraphs for national service, guess I got no complains at all. Not being patriotic, everyone has to play a part.

Next would be my students! I’m proud to see them graduating from secondary school and primary school! I could see them working hard. Stress for whatever that came by their way, and asking me questions whenever help was needed. All are worth while, a round of applause for their performance.

For my students I think I’m quite busybody. Always wanting the best out of them in every aspect. Just like earlier today, one of them scolded his mum openly on FB, I joked about it but I told him that he shouldn’t do that. He paid his price, his mum grounded him.

Okay national service and students summed up.

My dear friends, I can never forget about you. Now I feel the pinch where adults always say, as you grow older we meet each other lesser. All the commitments, I also realised, are not optionals, are a must. We need to study in order to secure a job, we need to work in order to feed ourselves.

I’m so sorry if I take forever to meet you. At least we did so at least once this year! We will meet again the coming years

My family, nonetheless, has been tighter than before especially with my siblings. That’s because it had been a roller coaster for my family. Tiring and emotionally drained yet we managed to get through with some complications still around. Let it rest.

For myself, I think I have achieve enough for this year. I’ve yet to achieve my life long dream. How long will it takes I don’t know. I will try, to even get past myself.

To the world, it will be new next year. The world will continue to spin, continue to live like how it does. I wish everyone well.

Happy New Year and Merry Christmas

who still

I am wondering who still reads my blog. Its has been update irregularly and its quite difficult to follow. I will be really glad if some one does.

I have been trying to pull things together. It is not very easy, things doesn’t fall in place at all. I have tried most methods as I could, I fail miserably.

I don’t need to be involved, I just need to see things in place and I’ll be glad. Is this wish a little bit too much?

its like a separated chop sticks where I can be bent easily. Can I entrust that they will support each other in times of difficulty?

I am burning within, exploding any time when I can. I suppressed all I could, hoping you will wake up a day to behave better.

I’m pray for one day I will know what to do. And my men will know how to behave.

ignore can be quite powerful

The last word: He said he was leaving. She ignored him.

When Laura Munson’s husband asked for a divorce, she ducked instead of fighting. He needed to learn, she says, that his unhappiness wasn’t really about her

posted on August 13, 2009, at 11:19 AM

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.

I believe this pride story because it kinda happen in my family.  If all my dad is needing time to escape and come back like how my mum is holding on to the family, i will jolly well give in. I don’t know what’s the time line of the story but mine was a few years and on going. He tried escaping thrice. its quite hard when kids have been seeing things since 7. I hope the mum up there prevented the kids from seeing what the dad had done at the back.

Anyway, i read the story above from http://theweek.com/article/index/99512/the-last-word-he-said-he-was-leaving-she-ignored-him

责任

慢慢就会当上了助长，我准备好了吗？
为什么大家都不停地把这职位推走？
我觉得这是一个能够让人发挥的职位。
责任真得很恐怖吗？怎么身边的男生非常不喜欢它？
他们都非常的任性。
能够脱离责任就脱离。
喜欢的自己拿，不喜欢的就隔离。
我亲手把它接过来这行不行？
男子汉点！
难兄难弟我相信他们会协助我。
把这一次当成一个经验，加油！

learning to listen to yourself

- to the songs I sing
- to my sorrows
- to my happiness
- to my lies
- to my breath
- to my emotions
- to who I am

Nobody has the patience to hear you all the time. You have to be your audience. Nobody knows how you truly feel.

Well, there might be one person who might listen to all your rants. How long would that last? People hates negativity. Do you like em?

stupid me

I find myself everywhere. Maybe somewhere I don’t belong, but I just want to be there. Should know where’s my circle of friends and just stick to them. Social bird, end up feeling puzzled and upset for nuts.

I am happy when I know I am in the various group. Having fun, laughter, peace and joy. It is the kind of happy joyous emotions that I want to have.

Age, social status, hierarchy, ranks, etc doesn’t affect me. As long as I know we can clique and things go well, I feel comfortable and that it is.

People do pin point me. Saying I’m getting close to certain personnel to get the favour and whatever. I won’t say you are jealous, I don’t do that. I will work my way up in every possible way.

See? Even with the way I type from the above. I can feel that I’m confuse. It just sounds like I feel happy belonging to a grp I don’t belong to. Haha. Silly me.

At the end of the day, clique with the ppl and be happy. Regardless who they are, as long as I’m happy and comfortable, I shouldn’t regard what others say about me.

Be myself.

read, read, read

I have been reading lately, guess I have found the joy of reading; hope it ain’t too late.  I would like to urge anyone who chance upon my wordpress to actually start reading. You may take 1 month to finish a book of 200 to 300 pages. Its okay. As long as you pick up the book and continue where you left, the story seems to flash back into your mind. It is that magical.

If you are not the kind who likes the cliche love story, you may like to read “The Housekeepeer + The Professor”. “The Housekeeper + the Professor” tells a tale formed by the professor’s new housekeeper, the single mother of a 10-year-old boy, Root, named by the professor because the flat top of his head reminds him of the square root sign. The professor has only 80 minutes of memory thus every morning the housekeeper has to introduce herself and Root to the professor. What interest me the most is can come out with something intersting with any number.

Numbers, simple numbers, and a little housekeeping can be written up to be a love story. Author Yoko Ogawa has done it brilliantly. This 180 page book has kept me reading on and on. I can re-read it anytime I like without feeling bored.

thoughts = zero

It has been a long while since I have something to share.
Be it something I feel is motivational or something special has happen to me.
No rants or evil doers.
Good, all wells. Smoothing sailing like a straight line graph.

misses & kisses

A wise man once told me, if you are missing someone just call the person.

The argument was if you are thinking about the person, contact the person. When the person replies you, he/she is thinking about you. Haha. Kind of a win-win situation.

Many people don’t believe in themselves. They don’t believe they can make it. In such a way, many things fall apart. Each time they fail, the indulge upon self pity which eventually makes things worst. One must effectively, embrace, stand up tall and improve.

You must love yourself, to believe you can make it. And not defeat yourself.

the week

This month was pretty cool. I feel that I’ve done quite a bit for myself.

Since 5th July, I’ve been trying to create a logo for some competition. I managed to come out with 3 great ideas. Lester had 2 great ideas too! I hope either one of us will win the prize.

Oh, then I’ve met up with 毒舌派. Happy meeting of course, it has been long since I see them.

Then I have also met with Cindy to eat tonkichi at orchard central. Cool man.

Now I want to meet intan, faiz, qw, sat, jy.. And more!

Sarah came back from aus and we met for simple mcdonalds! Cool too.

And a gathering at violet’s house with so many ppl. !!!

Steamboat at jr house!! And some small gathering.

Ahhhh, joyous moments.
Meeting kw and pet on the 28th. Woo.

Work wise, brian has become the 2ic. Altho it is only trail, I am still happy for him. Everyone should have work progression. ^^

Kenneth kam (have to put surname because I know like 3 kenneths!) Went for his tonsils removal and was successful. Small ops but I’m sure he is very scared, he has everyone’s support

Ohhh, and I passed my driving test! ^^

Happy happy month. Next month would be better. JM’s birthday party! A lot of 21st to look forward to. Sorry that I missed some due to work.

What’s next for me. Gonna chill my days around. Go for a tan. Fishing trip. oh how can I forget guitar and singing to disturb my neighbours!