The rain and the lack of umbrellas
resulted in an unexpected impromptu tea time with Datin S after work today.
More days should be like this.

The talk flowed over everything. Into everything.



Like the fact that I had to confess my love for BTS; they have me wishing I was 10 years younger so that I can be a proper fangirl -- I'm almost 30 and I can't help but be impressed. As far as I can tell, this group is almost perfect. I am not new to boy bands. I grew up with them. I have loved them. There was NEWS. There was Yamapi and the rest of the entourage that was JE. There was Arashi. and Big Bang. and being distantly appreciative of DBSK.

But this group, objectively-speaking (as much as I can be that is haha), has the potent combination of an Arashi-dynamic and Big Bang-quality art and music; and then they went and added one more unprecedented element that sealed my love for them -- their music incorporates literature. I am almost rendered speechless; how can so much awesome be wrapped up in one unit.

The first time, I had to keep replaying a rap segment in disbelief -- I was like, did I hear that right? Did Murakami's Kafka on the Shore just appear in a kpop song? 

and this under-rated short poetic one here --

And now, it appears that an entire album of songs will be based on the themes of Herman Hesse's 1919 psychoanalytical semi-autobiography, Demian -- that is now safely downloaded onto my Kindle. How awesome is this. How is it that a musical act is making me read a book? I wish so much that they were here when I was 19.

The level of symbolism that is in these videos 

(i.e. concept trailers of their upcoming album release)...

O.O

I was going to do a rant and lament about the bleakness of some things, post-endless discussions with E this past Sunday --

but then I feel so tired, and sad --

so I think I'd rather post these instead.


"No matter how big your problems may be,
just place them underneath your feet,
do not leave them in your mind and your heart,
for every problem will surely depart."
-- Shaikh Omar Al-Khatib

Selawat Fatih
Oh Allah, bestow Your Blessings upon our master, 
Muhammad, the one who opens that which is locked,
and the Seal of what had gone before,
the helper of the Truth by the the Truth,
and the guide to Your Straight Path.
Allah's blessings be upon him and his family,
equal to his immense position and grandeur.


N had passed little compendiums of daily prayers around our Arabic class this past Sunday. (because A had asked if she had anything good for her to recite, trying to deal with terrible colleagues and office politics)

Can I digress a little and say how much I love my Arabic class -- It's going on four years now (almost) and everyone is just so quietly dedicated, tolerant, sweet, supportive, and fun. And at the end of the previous class, I went around to every lady classmate and asked if they were gonna continue on for the diploma -- and it looks like a yes -- please God. I instigated each one of them: continue, okay? we need a complete class to keep this going!




Ya Rasulullah, thinking of you puts a coolness and calmness in my heart.
Let me rely on you.

I've been recalling lately, what one of my friends off-handedly said about me, whilst we were deep in our book club discussions --

(and let me quickly proclaim here how much a book club reveals about your friends: things you'd never think to discuss; their deep-seated fears, hopes, and beliefs; their dreams; their opinions of you)



I was trying to explain why our views were different: she was obviously the most practical out of all of us and I conceded that I was very impractical and on the other end of the spectrum, hence our varying outlooks.

then she said, "you're not impractical, you're whimsical!"

she didn't even think I belonged on the spectrum.

I was like, "I'm not even on the spectrum of normal??? How can I not be on the spectrum!"


And then on some days, yes, I see why I am a Nodame.

:(

Ah well, S.

If Nodame can be happy and achieve great things, you can too.

nutso Nodame! hahaha.

W on Fire

saw this on my tumblr dashboard while at work

and could barely stop from laughing out loud.

ahhhh, when obsessions collide...

this is perfect.

life is a sincere plodding along...

Thank You for putting wonderful people around me,

who help me as I plod along.

Feeling kind of good cause training didn't go too badly today

and I'm rediscovering my tenacity -- yes, let's not give up, S.

You can't get better if you don't suck in the first place.

I wanted to refrain from flooding this place with all things korean entertainment --

but I've been revisiting my first kpop love
(and their top 10 must-listen songs -- with my favourite of all time, Haru Haru, at the top);

and this one here is just too beautiful not to keep.

amazing.

And this one's just so ridiculously good, I can't even --

W ftw!

ohmygoodness, W, what are you doing to all of us kdrama viewers!

we can barely hold ourselves together!

I immediately visited tumblr the moment I finished the latest episode,

and yes, I agree with this gif that some people have been sharing; 

this is how I look like after every new W episode:

Luckily I am home-alone tonight (sad life of a workaholic-but-actually-kdrama-binger)

so I was exclaiming like crazy over the screen without any qualms.

I am trying to be less incoherent and explain what W is all about to my non-kdrama friends, 

but seriously, I was not kidding when I say I don't know how to begin describing it 

to encapsulate everything that it is.

SPOILER

Okay, so here's the deal:

We have our female lead, Oh Yeon Joo, a doctor whose dad, Oh Seung Moo, is the creator of a famous comic series called W. In the first episode, we see that Dad is somewhat depressed and apparently wants to just quit his work and stop drawing cartoons; he attempts to kill off everyone's favourite hero in the comic, Kang Chul, so that his comic series will end. (It's like Rowling just letting Harry die while Voldemort lives on, or Dunnett letting Lymond die without vindication -- I would not be able to cope ahah.) Except that Kang Chul would not die. This is where Yeon Joo, for some mysterious reason or other, keeps getting sucked into the universe of W the comic, and ends up always saving Kang Chul, whilst her dad keeps trying to kill him instead! The comic storyline keeps changing of its own accord while Yeon Joo has her adventures with Kang Chul, and Seung Moo cannot do anything about it.

As the drama progresses, we learn that Seung Moo did not initially want to kill Kang Chul; but that he had gradually become afraid of the lack of control over the direction of his story. His story has been acting weird for a while now and he wants to end it. There's a memorable piece from the first episode that I'm remembering now: a quote that goes something like "kill your creation before it overwhelms and kills you".

Yeon Joo starts spending longer and longer in the world of the comic W, and she knows it's crazy, and she knows Kang Chul is a comic character, and soon enough even our intelligent hero learns that he is a comic character -- but heck care to the logic -- we have an OTP, whoooo! 

I forget to mention that Kang Chul's life story, i.e. the main plot of W the comic, is a revenge-laden one: he' an ex-Olympic sharpshooter but now a rich-eligible-billionaire on a quest to find the man who murdered his entire family when he was young. 

So then -- there's a murderer on the loose! AND GAH. I will stop here because I don't have the energy to explain anymore how Yeon Joo, despite being from the real world, is in danger of being killed by this crazy murderer -- who also by the way, comes to the real world and starts revolting against Seung Moo his creator for wanting to end the comic too. Also, did I mention that Seung Moo himself, as the creator, did not have in mind who he wanted as the murderer in his story? Basically, there is a scary faceless, Nazgul-type cloaked villain, walking around in both worlds. And we have Kang Chul still trying to be hero -- my mind is blown away constantly at every step in this story.

THIS STORY IS NUTS but I am loving it. 

Kdrama-watchers are lapping this up because we HAVE NO IDEA WHERE THIS IS GOING 

and it scares the frak out of all of us. 

so much love for this story right now.

So the whole of Singapore has been talking about Schooling and his gold medal since morning.

On the way to work, the cab driver was all, 

"Eh, the hospital got TV or not? 9 o'clock you all must stop work and watch!"

When my parent participants started strolling in for the workshop, 

all of them were super excited,

and all we could talk about was Schooling;

so we watched it on Toggle together.

And screamed together when he won!

Honestly, I probably wouldn't have witnessed it if I wasn't running this workshop.

Which makes me extra sad that next week is the last week; I actually will be very happy to have my Saturdays back, but -- this was a wonderful workshop run. And I do love love love working with parents and their kids, because parent education is actually number one when it comes to making a change in children's lives. It's so great to have parents really get it, you know -- how speech therapy works, and how they can be empowered to help.


On a fairly separate note:

God, help me be brave and strong and continue to strive to goodness regardless of the reality of my situation. Amin.

current kpop obsession BTS led me to this

unbelievable video of a dance cover by a Taekwando group:

BTS themselves dancing already so awesome I basically repeat-watch one million times.

but this this this this.

This is jaw-dropping.

And here I am, clumsily bumping into door frames

and tripping over my feet for no rhyme or reason.

In another life,

I want to be a martial artist and a dancer.

guhhhhhh.

W for awesome

My pattern in recent times has been this: work, work, work, korean drama, sleep, work, work, work, korean drama, homework, sleep, work, work, work, korean drama, homework, sleep, work, work, work, work, work, work.

It's terrible, I know, but that's what's it been like, mostly. Well, of course I exaggerate, and I do squeeze in occasional family get-togethers and friend meet-ups; but I feel a general interminable exhaustion. Work is like a mega big boulder on my shoulders right now -- and maybe, hopefully, when I pass my clinic training (insya Allah! because things seem to be going okay, Alhamdulillah~) and finish running my workshop, things will calm and I can return to some semblance of a decent human being.

Right now though, in between work, korean drama is my soma --

and can I please rave about W - Two Worlds: 

a drama so unprecedented in its awesomeness, I choke up.

It's fandom and meta and romance and action and mystery and dare I say, philosophy; 

and ohmygod twists at every corner, 

and ohmygod hilarious stuff that make me want to shriek out loud in laughter 

-- how do I summarise how this drama is.

Maybe these gifs can give an idea:

Our hero is a fictional character but our heroine is real, 

(but actually, you know they're both fictional -- ehehehhhh whutttt)

and our hero realises this at some point, discusses it and grapples with his existential crisis--

way to blow our minds, writers.

I am terrified of where this is supposed to go though, 

because unless there is some other mind-bending warp going around, 

I don't see how our hero and heroine can realise their OTP 

seeing as how they live in completely different worlds. 

(Ohmygoodness, this is bringing back memories of DM of my teenage years.)

This is an unsubbed clip (hopefully it will be subbed proper at some point!) 

but it's my absolute favourite bit from the drama so far

-- for the sheer amount of crack in it; ohmygod I couldn't stop laughing.

Here he tells her to choose which romance line 

they should make for the direction of the story now: 

(i) a cinderella-type romance complete with a fancy ball

(ii) going on a romantic trip 

(iii) every day slice of life romance

(iv) bold and strong x-rated romance

Hilarious and on-point series of reviews by a first-time reader of Lymond at Books, Booze, and Brunch:

The other thing that's so incredible about Dunnett's writing is that she never recycles an emotional punch. Each time she breaks your heart it's in a completely new way, even if it involves the same characters.

...

I was talking with another friend of mine who's also reading this series for the first time, and we were saying how it feels like we've spent our entire lives preparing to properly love Francis Crawford. I don't know if I can express it better than that, because I feel like this book just fully cracked open my heart.


yessss. I know I have a book club, and it's, insya Allah, expanding in good ways heheee, and I am excited ((: but the day when we discuss Lymond will be a milestone. Not to mention when I finally get to King Hereafter and the Niccolo series.

You know, people tag me as being a Harry Potter fan, which I am, yes, definitely -- but I am a fan of so many other things, not the least of which is Lymond (I mean, Lymond rivals Harry Potter at the top of the list, come on) -- and well, sometimes I get annoyed when people think they know me when they don't, thank you very much. Okay, I don't know where that came from :P

waiting on the clouds of goodness

I figured I should just sit and start typing. There are precious few moments when time coincides with mood, so I should just do it.

You know, I won't claim to be a writer. Professional writers earn money; I obviously don't. I write in obscurity. And I write without structure or aim. But I know what it feels like to write properly, and it's not about having time. Well, at least not just time alone. It's about time, and flow. It's about being in a mood, a certain frame of mind that allows the smooth channeling of thoughts into tangible words on a screen, on paper. And that flow, that mood -- it doesn't come on command.

Just earlier this week, I was talking over with a colleague about the apparent lack of time to enjoy my creative pursuits. Being the ISTJ-personality type (I have deduced heheh), she started breaking down my hours in the day for me, and proving to me that I have a good hour or two every day for doing whatever I wanted. (Which now, as I think on it, leaves my friends who are mothers zero time for themselves -- I don't blame them for never being able to blog about our books.) But see, what she failed to get is that -- I can't just plop down for 2 hours and then write. That hasn't been how I've written all the years before; I simmer, I kind of mull around by myself for hours, and then get into a mood, and then I write. And I write without concern for time, food, or persons. (Which is probably ridiculous...)

The problem then appears to be that my mind hasn't been in a reflective/writing mood for extended periods -- hence my lack of writing proper in general -- and results in the attrition of my general psychological well-being. Because my writing is the space I work through my confusing thoughts, my conflicting feelings, and life's heartaches and joys. Without it, I feel like I'm bottling up a whole jar of pain and unclarified ideas. How on earth do other people live life without doing this? Don't the rest of you all have messes inside your hearts and minds? Maybe some people just talk it out. Some people paint, or do comic art --

haha, oh heart.

So yes, I need to write. But I feel a pressure however, in some ways, not to. Like if I could only just be less dreamy, less drifty, less me perhaps -- I would be more accomplished, focused, goal-oriented.

Balance truly is the elusive ideal.


Anyway, the only reason I am posting today is because I am on sick leave and I actually have time on my hands. Again, time supposed to be better spent working on research proposals or studying for my clinic maybe, and time to rest -- but I needed to do this. To resume doing a little of this.

Last night, our ladies' gathering had a nice little sharing at one point that resulted in pretty much tears all round -- because we talked about how everyone has their own private challenges, but then never to despair because only the best of us are tested, and we are tested to the degree of our mettle and substance. And how can you even think that Allah and Rasul s.a.w. would ever abandon you? Ever, ever, ever. If we would only just think on that, everyone, we will all be okay, and stay strong, and be hopeful for the clouds of goodness waiting to rain on us some day.

:)

After the previous post, E unsurprisingly texted me: what's up with the emo!


... what can I do?

Late night posts -- and I only ever seem to get in a writing mood late at night -- inevitably have emotions running wild. It's when your brain starts to sleep and emotions awake, you see.

I have a rule for myself -- when things get posted, I never remove them (unless it ever comes to the point when an external party requests; guhhhhuh when would that ever be the case). I am a stickler for authenticity. Even if you may not feel like that now, you felt like that then. So don't deny the parts of you that are still you.


It's like that quote from George Bernard Shaw's Candida that stuck with me --

“Do you think that the things people make fools of themselves about are any less real and true than the things they behave sensibly about? They are more true: they are the only things that are true.”

Because they represent deep-seated stuff about you that you never reveal except at moments of unguardedness. I wish we could be all be more true, and less sensible.

And.... this has been a nice distraction!

words would limit this miasma in my heart
but if I don't attempt to give words to these intangibles, they will sit like poison inside.

Selamat Hari Raya!


Super late post -- but hey, it's still Syawal.

I've had a post simmering in my head for weeks, and had serious things to rant about, and some thoughtful things to share about, and heartaches to soothe -- but gah, I'm exhausted. And sometimes, the more I want to write, the bigger the imaginary draft is in my head, and the harder it appears for me to get to writing cause I keep waiting for a perfect window of time, but that window of time never seems to come!

For now, just let me blog list-like; the reasons I'm so exhausted include:

- Ongoing raya festivities, which is hey, a good thing, but stuffing oneself with food, and alternately stuffing other people with food is a time-consuming activity

- Hanen parent workshop just started i.e. I am working so many Saturdays I cry from lack of sleep; basically the rare Saturdays are the only times I get to sleep in and for now I don't anymore; and I find it so impossible to be disciplined about sleeping early, so basically I sleep so little -- I'm really endangering my eye and brain health if I keep this up.

- Training for a new feeding-related clinic also just started, ohgoshhhh. I want to do well at this. I'm actually feeling interested about the theory bit and that's always a good sign: because I'm the type to do really well at the stuff I like, and be completely crap at things I find boring, no matter if you tell me how important it is. So yes, I pray this turns out well, insya Allah.

- It's about two months in to my new Arabic classes that are scheduled Monday nights (on top of my consistent Sunday Arabic classes) -- and god, I am feeling the pain. What was I thinking, having a full-blown stressful class right after work. I do this to my own life, don't I? Why am I so stubborn and nutso. Why. why, S, why. Why do you frustrate even yourself, or more like, especially yourself. And now I am rambling and digressing from the topic of Arabic class so I shall stop.

- Projects we should be getting to but we keep stalling because of concurrent work and all of the above. Why do I feel like there's always one million things happening at once. (ohmygod, is my thyroid acting up.)


Barely two months out of the peaceful highlands and I am already yearning to be back.

And I'm still waiting for that perfect window of time so that I can blog-post my thoughts properly. Ah, me and my stubbornness, and my need for downtime.

this nice music video here though 

-- I'm revisiting old favourite dramas that are familiar and heartwarming, because investments in new dramas again require energy and time, and I'm short on those. 

ohmygosh, Healer: 

I think you have a high chance 

of being top on my list of favourite dramas of all time.

... when we read about Haruki's decision to fly into the waves, my dad totally lost it. We were at home, sitting at the kotatsu, and he was reading the translation out loud to me, and when he got to that part, he put down the page and made this loud snorting noise that sounded a bit like a gigantic sneeze, only it wasn't. It was an explosion of sadness. He stood up and went into the bathroom and shut the door, but I could still hear him crying in a deep, gulping way.

-- Nao, A Tale for the Time Being, Ruth Ozeki

When I think about me and my idealism, this scene frequently comes to mind. I remember how this scene made me cry together with Nao's dad the first time I read it. Being an idealist is lonely; standing up for your ideals against the face of criticism from all sides, including your own, is heart-breaking, destroying, crushing. To have it validated, even a little, gives such relief, it comes with a torrent of tears.

A bit slow on the uptake, I know; this song has been all the rage for a while

-- but suddenly, it's bitten me.

too cute!

and certainly helping with my Arabic.

---

Also, old friends have recently made me feel nostalgic for the old days. 

I got a belated birthday gift in the form of lapis lazuli!

Elsie! You are well-loved, hehe.

Eventful day --

* a family emergency that made me glad to realise how I naturally go into fight mode when something scary happens. I can look back and laugh now. But man, it was scary. It's a few times in my life now that my younger siblings have given us terrible life-or-death scares. But what I'm increasingly realising is that, when something emotionally overwhelming happens, my natural instinct is to shove all emotion aside, and become logical and serious and amazingly calm. Although I can hear the small voice in my head starting to plead to God.

Haha, this makes me wonder if I should have become a doctor. But wait, wasn't I all frazzled for inpatient training as a speechie? Am I not naturally paranoid, as my old school friends will attest to? hmmmmm I don't know. Maybe it's the knowledge that efff, this is important, I will fix this or die, that makes the difference.

* first big iftar that has me realising how old I am, or rather how far I've come in life, and I'm happy with who I've strived to be, and hopefully continually strive to become. It's one of those rare times in life as a woman, I don't feel getting older is a bad thing at all. If you're constantly cultivating and refining who you are, you're looking forward to growing wiser and stronger and closer to the best version of you you can be.

* praying in congregation as a jema'ah made me reflect on the value of the ummah, or of a community. and why Islam places such importance on the role of social duty and contribution. A true community is everything an individual needs to sustain life -- you may face individual challenges, but a true community would never leave you to deal with them utterly alone. You could never be motherless, fatherless, or childless. So many mothers either kaypoh-ing, or shoving food at you. Children running around for you to snatch one and cuddle. Brothers and sisters surround you -- and all you need for them to swoop down on you in concern is looking even that little bit under the weather. 

I do wonder if it's the magic of this blessed month that's giving me positive vibes.

May you be blessed and protected always. May we all.

Ramadhan Mubarak!

May this Ramadhan be filled with blessings that will carry on to the rest of the year.



Goals:

* to improve sleep management and therefore energy management -- I need to conserve energy for the right things, I know. ): 7 hours a night please, S.

* to review at least some parts of the Quran properly (it has been pathetic year after year)

* to assign myself one task (work/spiritual/household) every night to complete (and I want this to continue beyond Ramadhan, insya Allah)

* to listen to Al-Mishary and improve my Arabic pronunciation (as reiterated over and over by my Arabic teacher!) -- definitely want to get all the range of /h/ and /z/ right!

* tawakal ilallah for all things

hello, this was a beautiful story.

For all my misfit friends.

In fact, I think too many of us perceive ourselves as misfits.

Which apparently, might be a good and beautiful thing.

being brave is awesome

Against my better judgement, 

and with full knowledge that I am getting far too old for this: 

a kpop video!

This group has increasingly fascinated me, with their very pretty videos and unbelievable dancing. And they also recently appeared on Running Man, which of course is every Korean artist's gateway to super-stardom, if you didn't already have enough of the fame. 

This song -- just the right blend of everything for me.

Oh, this makes me nostalgic for the days when I fell in love with Big Bang.

---

I've been running my social skills sessions this past week with some older kids.

As I talked things over with them, I'm realising I'm saying things that apply to me too. The irony makes me laugh quietly to myself, or sometimes do an internal face-palm.

Things like, we all have problems in life, right? Are you just going to let them be, or are you going to solve them?

And my kid will go, I don't know.

And in my head, I'm thinking, yeah actually, some of my problems, I don't know too.

I tell them, I think we can figure it out. Don't you want to be happy? We then write out stuff we think we should be, like... kind, smart, helpful, friendly. Brave, and fair. I tell them that we have to be brave to stand up for ourselves against bullies, to speak up for ourselves.

Do you know what being brave means? It means doing something even when you're afraid.

My kid made a doubtful face, convinced that I was giving her silly ideas.

I went on this long explanation about how being brave, out of all other attributes we listed, was the absolute coolest one. And I had to digress a little to explain what "cool" was, because kids nowadays apparently only recognise "awesome".

My kid reasonably expressed concern, but what if I speak up and keep being nice and then... they're still not nice to me?

I tried to convince her, it won't happen straight away, but some day, they'll stop and realise how they shouldn't mess with you. or how nice you really are. or even want to be friends with you. And I stuck in a disguised story about Nabi s.a.w. and his horrible neighbour who eventually turned a new leaf because Nabi was so relentless in his niceness and kindness.

And even if things don't turn out well with her peers, in the long run, people generally like brave and nice people more than mean and nasty people. I was trying to make her see that being brave was something worth doing in and of itself, regardless of the outcome. Being brave is awesome.

You've got to be brave, S.



oh my kiddies, you guys try hard, but the world doesn't understand you. my clinics often remind me of Sheldon: there was a scene I watched recently, that was just so sweet, and stuck with me.

It was Sheldon's birthday,
and they were throwing him a party,
except that he freaked out because parties were something of a trauma for him in childhood,
due to bullying.
So he took refuge in the bathroom.

Aw, Penny. 

If we could all learn to really learn about one another, 

there would be more love all round.

tadaima

back in SG! feeling both happy and sad -- actually feeling quite happy to be back and see familiar faces and places, but also very sad because: Scotland!!! :'( I miss you already. Yes, I have what they apparently call DSL: Deep Scottish Love.

wrestling with the 1600+ photos I currently have (crazy, right!), and my annoying Mac OS that's making all the transferring from one medium to another difficult.

but here's a prelude (to the full album that I'll hopefully get to working!):

Tulips at Keukenhoff, Amsterdam

This is one of my favourite photos 

because a good photo is a combination of preparation and opportunity!

Near a clog-making factory in Amsterdam.

Staffa!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Off the coast of Scotland. 

Though we didn't manage to spot puffins, 

the whole isle itself was just awesommmmme.

Just look at those rocks (i.e. hexagonal basalt columns). 

The Quiraing on Isle of Skye was breath-taking! 

(My sister is in the picture to give a sense of scale.)

The last time I was there with E, the weather was misty, which gave another totally cool effect, 

but this time: the clear weather gave superb views from every angle. 

Gosh, just beautiful, really.

---

A bit unrelated but I just have to blog about it: on the plane journey home,

I caught a Japanese movie -- seems to be a pattern, doesn't it?

When I returned from Spain, I remember raving about Bokura ga Ita that played on the plane too.

This time, it was Orange, another growing up movie 

that left me in tears throughout the last third of it.

Like I said, trust the Japanese to make the sweetest, the most nostalgic, 

the most heartbreaking, growing up stories. 

This manga adaptation is about a girl 

who receives a letter from herself ten years in the future. 

The older version of her tells her to do things different so that she will not have regrets.

It's definitely about love, but it's also about friendship, and sacrifice, 

and just being there for the people you love, so that we all know we're not alone.

Fare thee well, Isle of Skye

I'm afraid this will become a habit or something -- coming here to this beautiful, beautiful corner of the world to get away.



We had a day on Skye today, and I revisited the corners I saw 6 years ago and they are still jaw-dropping and amazing. I don't think anyone could get tired of seeing the views in this place. It's too bad I can't seem to navigate my way around my phone to post any photos properly on blogspot. Not that any photo can do any justice to the beauty.

I'm back now in the tiny fishing village of Plockton (nearby Skye) and this place is seriously tiny. There's like what, one winding street, three restaurants and that's it! Haha. And then we just have an endless array of houses and cottages -- one of which we're staying at -- and the peaceful blue sea.

If my feelings were colour I think it'd be blue-green right now. A sort of calm bordering on melancholy. Which is... as I think on it, probably my default colour.


you know the feeling when your heart has made a decision and your brain is only just catching up? here's another one of mine: I'm coming to see you again, Skye! I don't know when and I don't know how, but this goodbye isn't forever......

I wandered lonely as a cloud 

That floats on high o'er vales and hills, 

When all at once I saw a crowd, 

A host, of golden daffodils; 

Beside the lake, beneath the trees, 

Fluttering and dancing in the breeze. 

Continuous as the stars that shine 

And twinkle on the milky way, 

They stretched in never-ending line 

Along the margin of a bay: 

Ten thousand saw I at a glance, 

Tossing their heads in sprightly dance. 

The waves beside them danced; but they 

Out-did the sparkling waves in glee: 

A poet could not but be gay, 

In such a jocund company: 

I gazed—and gazed—but little thought 

What wealth the show to me had brought: 

For oft, when on my couch I lie 

In vacant or in pensive mood, 

They flash upon that inward eye 

Which is the bliss of solitude; 

And then my heart with pleasure fills, 

And dances with the daffodils. 

William Wordsworth

Hi! Posting while in transit in the Western Isles of Scotland! (:

I thought I wouldn't appear here at all for weeks but then... Why not!

The highlands are too gorgeous for words.

Another birthday come to pass.

And this post shall be the last one in a while -- mainly because, I am off on a very long getaway with the family.



It always appears to me that I get a holiday precisely when I need it. Or maybe in reality, I always want a holiday haha, no matter the time. Regardless, this holiday is much, much needed, and planned around my birthday too -- because I think I need a reset button.

I've decided on something for myself. Or more like, I've come to terms with something, and therefore I see now what decision I have to make, or have already subconsciously made. This break from everyday work is so that I can take the time to look it in the face, stare at it, and accept it. And then ganbatte and brave through life.



(i) things worth having are things worth fighting for
(ii) you'll never be happy unless you fight -- a line from an old j-drama (said by Mizushima Hiro in Mei-chan no Shitsuji!) that has stuck with me
(iii) easy = boring, difficult = interesting, y/n?
(iv) I am least happy when I chicken out and take the easy way
(v) I like the idea that my life shall be about growing in courage
(vi) I like the idea that my life shall be about being authentic and true
(vii) I shall be an idealist and not be ashamed




---


omgggg I was just about to publish this post but then at 12.30 am, my family all popped downstairs where I am parked at the table, to bring out a birthday cake -- 30 minutes late from the actual date (cause my dad got home late from his class) but still!

heheeeee. thank You again for the wonderful people in my life. (:

Thank you for all the lovely wishes! 

(including adorable voice mails from Qatar haha)

but my favourite today goes to...

Thoughts buzzing in my head, good and bad.

*Being realistic is the fastest way to mediocrity

*Been feeling increasingly certain that if I were to be granted any supernatural item/power, I'd want the invisibility cloak. seriously -- I feel like I could figure out better what to do, if I was just privy to more information, or able to investigate freely without any red tape or without anyone noticing at all. Just! I feel the truth of things is often so hard to get to and I just want to bypass all the layers of crap to the core of things. Because I need to understand! and I need to figure out things.

*Feeling really sad with myself because I'm realising I haven't improved much over the years. This must be partly attributed to the lack of discipline I have been lamenting in recent times? My problems are starkly the same. The same! And I am appalled and devastated at myself, reading old private blogposts and realising they apply now as they did then.

What is it that we keep hearing? History repeats itself because no one listens? Insanity is doing the same thing over and over, expecting different results? I don't know. )': I don't know what to do different. I don't know anymore.

*Desperate to make a change. Desperate.

*Which is why the Datin project is coming at the right time, insya Allah.

I want to sleep soon -- because there's work tomorrow and because I am trying to work on my discipline, but I really just have to come here and record this wonderful evening that I just had with Datin S.

That made me reflect in general, and now makes my heart feel full.


Alhamdulillah.

Thank You for amazing Friday evenings. Thank You for the people You've put in my life. Thank You for friends such as these. Thank You for my wonderful family. Thank You for the moments of gratitude. Thank You for the capacity to contemplate the blessings that You have granted. Thank You for making me feel excited for the future.

Thank You!

Today I mentioned to my friends how Nikola Tesla was basically real-life superhero -- he reminds me of Daredevil, or Spiderman. Because look at this:

(he calls it a time of nervous breakdown when his senses were at its acutest)

In Budapest, I could hear the ticking of a watch with three rooms between me and the time piece. A fly alighting on a table in the room would cause a dull thud in my ear. A carriage passing at a distance of a few miles fairly shook my whole body. The whistle of a locomotive twenty or thirty miles away made the bench or chair on which I sat vibrate so strongly that the pain was unbearable.

He probably had a sensory processing disorder! right? But which coupled with a high IQ allowed him to overcome via compensatory ways. Otherwise, he would appear like the typical sensitive autistic child maybe; screaming with the littlest stimulation.

He also described numerous near-death experiences from his childhood days during which he would save himself at the last crucial moment, when he conjured up an idea or remembered an important life-saving fact (he attributed this to his inventor mind): like the fact that pressure is force/area and so he turned sideways to prevent himself from being pushed over the edge of a dam while he went bathing in a river as a teenager.

An inventor's endeavour is essentially life-saving. Whether he harnesses forces, improves devices, or provides new comforts and conveniences, he is adding to the safety of our existence. He is also better qualified than the average individual to protect himself in peril, for he is observant and resourceful.

--

Unrelated or not, I was thinking today about people I admire. As a young person in the past, I have had friends say, and I was guilty of the the same thing, how such-and-such person is so awesome because they had A, B and C, and was awesome-thing-D, and awesome-thing-E. You know what I mean? Like we would admire people for being things or having things.

But tonight I was glad to realise for myself that the people I truly admire are people who do things instead, things that appear a feat to me. Like the father of a brain-damaged child I see, whose mother also recently passed on because of a road accident, but who still comes for therapy so religiously and shows such enthusiasm and dedication to help his child improve in any small way, that as therapists our hearts ache and we all surely secretly pray that this family gets a miracle after all the challenges that keep coming their way. My mother who does things for us every day of our lives is awesome too. Or the fact that fathers slog every day in the system to feed their families. The greater the challenge, the greater my respect and admiration. The fact that they keep doing, the courage it takes to just keep doing and keep fighting. That fills me with awe. This is probably why seeing people bask in the lap of luxury and not doing anything leaves a bad aftertaste in the soul.

And it's not that we all want difficult lives -- I don't think I can cope with such scary challenges. But that the point of life is that we should all the find our little ways to do things. It's like something I've heard before: that if you are not afflicted, then you should help the afflicted; otherwise God will visit you with an affliction so that you realise that this is the point of life -- to fight to become something of a higher substance. That life is work.

This reminds me of what Shaykh Hamza said at the Yale University talk too: that we should look at other people in terms of verbs rather than nouns and adjectives. It's what people do that matters, not what they are.

Just wanted to quickly update how I'm now reading Nikola Tesla's autobiography -- having had such a great experience with the autobiography genre --

and I'm seeing patterns with these great persons. (I suppose I need to read more autobiographies to corroborate these observations.)

Both Nikola Tesla and Malcolm X -- diverse though their fields and their roles in history -- have already two things in common that I've identified: (i) a ridiculous passion for reading, and (ii) unstinting discipline.


Malcolm X on reading:

Anyone who has read a great deal can imagine the new world that opened. Let me tell you something: from then until I left that prison, in every free moment I had, if I was not reading in the library, I was reading on my bunk. You couldn't have gotten me out of books with a wedge. Between Mr Muhammad's teachings, my correspondence, my visitors - usually Ella or Reginald - and my reading of books, months passed without my even thinking about being imprisoned. In fact, up to then, I never had been so truly free in my life.

"People don't realise how a man's whole life can be changed by one book." 

 Tesla on reading:

Of all things I liked books best. My father had a large library and whenever I could manage I tried to satisfy my passion for reading. He did not permit it and would fly into a rage when he caught me in the act. He hid the candles when he found that I was reading in secret. He did not want me to spoil my eyes. But I obtained tallow, made the wicking and cast the sticks into tin forms, and every night I would bush the keyhole and the cracks and read, often till dawn, when others slept and my mother started on her arduous daily task.

Me? -- though I may credit myself with a love of books since early childhood, discipline is like the last ingredient missing during my genesis or something. I am so horribly ill-disciplined, I really, truly frequently marvel at how I have passed through the institutions of learning in my life. Had I not been born privileged, into a family and environment that was conducive to my learning, I probably would have been a drug addict and wasting life away or something, ahah.

Challenge of 2016: I have been trying to (figure out how to) revolutionize my mind/body/soul so as to bring discipline into my life.

Tesla on discipline:

... I began to practise self-control. At first, my resolutions faded like snow in April, but in a little while I conquered my weakness and felt a pleasure I never knew before -- that of doing as I willed. In the course of time this vigorous mental exercise became second nature. At the outset, my wishes had to be subdued but gradually desire and will grew to be identical. After years of such discipline I gained so complete a mastery over myself that I toyed with passions which have meant destruction to some of the strongest men.

Friday -- (now oops already crossed over to Saturday) -- night! always my favourite time of the week.

I have thoughts thoughts thoughts but not the energy to articulate them!

But for some reason, I am happy tonight. Alhamdulillah.


---



Simple non-heavy blogging (the kind I'm willing to partake at this hour) is related to dramaland of course, eheh. If you are in any way acquainted with kdramas, you would know that the current insane rave all over Asia, is this, Descendants of the Sun. I think every other lady watching dramas on the train, is probably watching this.

My thoughts?

- I am blinded by the pretty. I don't know anymore. This drama is so pretty I don't even know if I'm objectively following the plot, or just gushing at this insanely beautiful couple.
- Song Hye Gyo is proof that you can grow more beautiful forever. I actually think she is more gorgeous here than she was in her early 20s. What is her secret?
- Song Joong Ki is apparently making China girls contract glaucoma from staring at him for 18 hours straight on the screen. He brushed it off ahah, because he's modest... or pretending to be?
- Everyone loves Joong Ki now, dang it. And I thought I was the only one. I loved him way back from Sungkyunkwan Scandal, and I loved him in Running Man -- you all do too? D:
- Besides the people, the place is also so, so pretty -- I just found out Urk (where our protagonist soldier-extraordinaire and his love interest reunite due to coincidental work engagements) is actually in the Netherlands Greece! And the story made it out to be some war-torn, third-world, Middle Eastern/Eastern European location. -.- S, why are you so easily duped.
- Objectively though, I mean it: this show has some awesome plot moments. I feel like, yes, the story is centered on the fascinating, romantic relationship/dynamic between two rare individuals, but playing it out in this high-adrenaline, war-torn, humanitarian-effort setting brings some other really moving themes into play.
- I actually surprisingly enjoyed Chi Hun's side-story about him running away from a rescue task during the earthquake emergency because he was afraid for his own life, and then agonizing like crazy over it, and subsequently trying to atone for his cowardice. It's a very human thing, is it not, to have moments of cowardice like that? Because courage is a muscle too that requires time and practice to grow strong. I thought it was very cool how they tackled this concept via Chi Hun.
- Watching this drama has basically romanticised the army for viewers (and given disproportionate expectations of how gorgeous soldiers are, or how romantic, or how much free time they actually have while on a mission some place far). Also, it has made me think, falsely I'm sure, that joining some UN mission overseas must be one of the most exhilarating things to do, and that the likelihood of dying or endangering your life is actually low.
- Love Mo Yeon's medical team! It's fun to watch them get used to Urk and living with the soldiers. And then when they had to leave, I felt really, really sad too. It's like the feeling of leaving camp I think, and leaving a place that has given you a purpose, built your courage, and made you grow.
- This drama also seems to say: no matter your profession, you demonstrate honour when you execute your duties with excellence, diligence, and courage.
- Last but not least: this drama is not just heavy and serious because of the action and the war/disaster events and the I-shall-deny-my-love-for-you-because-you-are-mysterious-soldier-who-will-die-on-me issues; there are really adorable comedy bits too -- like this one:

I feel like I want to go on a camp or overseas mission or stg now.

Hm.

wit beyond measure is man's greatest treasure

Had one of our book club meetings today, and as always time seems faaaar too short; I think if we could be allowed to talk all day about our books, we would. Even though I was the only one who actually finished the entirety of our current text, it certainly did nothing to quell the rapidity of our conversations and the passion in our exchanges.

It is safe to say that we are all pretty much enraptured by the man that was Malcolm X. 

(I need a big silly heart emoticon right now, 

because how else should I express my fangirling, I don't know.)

Just listening to this -- several thoughts cross my mind: that history repeats itself, probably because humanity has had the same problems since forever, and we don't learn from our forefathers. 

By the end, we decided that my bookie friends will finish reading his autobiography and we will discuss this awesome personality again at the next meeting. While I devour any research pertaining to his life, person, and efforts. And the civil rights era in America.

And by the end, I've decided that the following qualities to exist simultaneously in a person is the recipe for greatness: sincerity, discipline, courage, and wit.

---

Not entirely unrelated since I'm in the business of talking about sincere and courageous individuals: I've been waiting and waiting for the Snowden movie to come out and I thought it would be March this year, but they've pushed it to September (rumour has it that the government is making problems for production --  haha, evil).

Here's another amazing personality I admire who is our generation and whose book -- No Place To Hide by Glen Greenwald -- still sits unfinished in my Kindle. I should get to it.

Edward Snowden was 29 when he  revealed confidential US government documents because he believed in liberty and privacy for his fellow Americans. You've just got to respect people who are willing to stake their lives for their beliefs. I'm going to be 29, and what the heck have I done with my life.

It was probably watching John Oliver that made me pay attention to Snowden:

Life, why are you so puzzling --

this drama is one to Remember

ohmygod, did I just make a lame pun there, ahah.

I am 2 episodes away from the end of this drama Remember, and it has been a fantastic ride so far.

The acting chops overall were so impressive, I am struggling to look for a synonym and adjective to better describe how I feel.

Park Min Young has always hit jackpot year after year with her dramas; I don't know how she does it. It's like black magic, ahah -- she always kills it as the female lead for any intense hurt/comfort OTP scenario. Last year we had her with Ji Chang Wook in Healer, and at some point earlier, it was with Lee Min Ho in City Hunter -- I mean, she seems to keep appearing in my favourite hero dramas!

Then we have the main villain who was superbly acted by Nam Goong Min; I cannot say this enough, I think -- he was so, so good. He really gave this drama the oomph. The rage meter for the drama can largely be attributed to him; he is so nuts, so evil, and so dysfunctional, all viewers want is to to see him burn. HAHAHA. As I watch, I hate him so much, it's hilarious; and at the same time, the back of my brain is noticing how so super-awesome this actor is and I'm scrawling down a memo to look him up later.

And finally, we have our hero played by Yoo Seung-ho, who has been living up to Korea's expectations of him. The first time I saw him was in a drama when he was ~17 years old acting as a secondary character in Warrior Baek Dong Soo. I was puzzling over why an important character was given to this mere boy who could barely pull off the physical demand of the role (i.e. warrior in a historical setting! he was sooo small then). But even then, at a young age, I could see it -- there was a calibre to him. And Korea was just waiting for him to grow up properly so they could cast him as lead hero, haha. Now at 22 years, I think he has proven himself beyond a doubt in this drama. I haven't checked for sure, but he's probably the youngest in this entire cast of veteran and much, much older actors and proving himself equal to (if not better!) than all of them. Simply, this boy is amazing and has years to go in the industry for us to watch.

Had to take a pause while watching this kdrama called Remember --

-- because my goodness, it reminded me of the famous documentary Making A Murderer 

(I'm half wondering if the drama writers weren't entirely influenced by Steven Avery's story) 

and it's making me so emotional.

I hadn't blogged about it, but E and I spent the nights during our Cameron Highlands getaway watching this documentary from start to end -- and God, it so enraged us. And now watching this kdrama, the rage comes back, haha oh dear.  If you have no clue what all this is about, please watch the trailers. And watch the documentary at least.

Unlike real life, the drama has a protagonist on whom we're putting our hopes, and as the audience, we demand that one day, in drama years, justice will prevail. There will be vindication. 

Real life, however. RAGE. Just rage. Why are people evil.
Who says reality isn't dramatic. So much drama!

oooooohmygod.

Our generation has grown up and now making such ambitious HP fan productions!

---


and this is a nice mini ted video.

hope is the thing with feathers that perches in the soul

finally, a moment.

I couldn't find a moment (you know, crazy busy weekdays and crazy wedding weekends). Not that I was occupied a 100% outside of right now -- but you know, the right moment. to pen thoughts.

or just one thought, maybe, for now.

That is... I think I'm finally realising the meaning of the maxim: to hope, but not expect.

It is a thin line. That sweet spot called hope, that is neither despair, nor entitlement or expectation. And insya Allah, this is a step-up in iman; because this does seem like a type of submission. I'm starting to wonder too if we're being taught the same core lesson over and over but always being given an up on the ante with respect to the context, as we go on with life.

Hope gives me leave to live according to my heart, in consort with my head, insya Allah.



When I was a young girl, there was a fad started by the used-to-be-awed Lance Armstrong who fought against cancer and continued cycling in the Tour de France: these hand bands that said LIVE STRONG. People would sport it in a range of colours on their wrists -- mostly in association with athleticism and resilience etc. Later, I decided that while this live strong idea was quite awesome -- you know, not giving up, striving hard no matter what -- the motto that was preferable for me to live by was to LIVE TRUE.

It was something that stuck with me as I grew older and stays with me today.

Live true to myself, true to God and his Beloved Nabi s.a.w., and to have hope in my heart.

(:

I'm properly excited now to re-visit a well-loved place.

Scotland, I heart you more than ever.

Sing me a song of a lass that is gone
Say, could that lass be I?
Merry of soul, she sailed on a day
Over the sea to Skye.
Billow and breeze, islands and seas,
Mountains of rain and sun...
All that was good, all that was fair,
All that was me is gone.

---

and ah, anticipating Season 2! this show is so pretty (for the place and the people) and epic. I've talked it over with E, and I conceded that it has not shined extraordinarily as literature (and I am only ~40% through the book; obviously I went on ahead with the TV version, eheh) but dang, it makes exciting TV! Also, it has an OTP to root for, and I'm obviously a sucker for that.



Hmm
I'm waiting on some other awesome show comebacks this year:
Prison Break, for one! (eeps, I loved Michael Scofield.)

And Gilmore Girls! which I don't watch --
but even I want to know if Jess and Rory will finally get together. :P

TO FORGIVE IS...

To begin
and there is so much to forgive:
for one, your parents, one and two,
out of whose dim haphazard coupling
you sprang forth roaring, indignantly alive.
For this, whatever else followed,
innocent and guilty, forgive them.
If it is day, forgive the sun
its white radiance blinding the eye;
forgive also the moon for dragging the tides,
for her secrets, her half heart of darkness;
whatever the season, forgive it its various 
assaults -- floods, gales, storms 
of ice -- and forgive its changing;
for its vanishing act, stealing what you love
and what you hate, indifferent,
forgive time; and likewise forgive its fickle
consort, memory, which fades
the photographs of all you can't remember;
forgive forgetting, which is chaste
and kinder than you know;
forgive your age and the age you were
when happiness was afire in your blood
and joy sang hymns in the trees;
forgive, too, those trees, which have died;
and forgive death for taking them,
inexorable as God; then forgive God
His terrible grandeur, His unspeakable
Name; forgive, too, the poor devil
for a celestial fall no worse than your own.
When you have forgiven whatever is of earth,
of sky, of water, whatever is named,
whatever remains nameless,
forgive, finally, your own sorry self,
clothed in temporary flesh
the breath and blood of you
already dying.

Dying, forgiven, now you begin.

-- Pamela Wagner

This made me cry, snot and all.
I had to put aside the reading,
and spend a good while repeatedly swiping at tears and thinking,
and then, now,
blogging.

I'm thinking... perhaps,
part of the reason for suffering and pain in the world,
is so as to engender beauty,
like this.