Happy Nisfu Syaaban!

🌓

(Also, means two weeks to Ramadan! yeow.)

oops I missed my birthday! hehe

but I'm still up and don't feel like going to sleep or prepping for work tomorrow because I'm in birthday mood and happy and it's like a long weekend anyway cause Labour Day is coming -- so here I am way beyond a decent bedtime, blogging, as I do every year, to commemorate the passing of yet another year of life.

Life is not easy; but it's not that difficult either as long as I keep perspective. And I am learning to be grateful for lots of things, and I've realised that I'm happier than I thought I was, Alhamdulillah!

And I feel I've repeated this phrase many times in my life, but every time I do, I'm happy to realise it's true: How pleased I am that I am pleased. I remember the first time I posted that, M asked me, ooh what's up? did something wonderful happen? But as it was then, it is now: that I feel happy I don't need any major thing to learn to be happy. Alhamdulillah.

Anyway, I just finished watching this too, and it was lovely.

Reply 1997 is not recent but is on Netflix -- hence convenient -- 

and it's just a sweet drama about childhood sweethearts and a growing-up story. 

(Also not to mention nostalgic stuff like pagers, flip phones, VHS tapes and dial-up modems! haha)

I have such a weakness for well-made growing-up dramas. 

They are wonderful and sweet; although this was bordering on crazy and crack haha. 

And it makes you thankful for your past, no matter how nutso it has been, 

because it's all a journey, eh. 

It's all a journey, we're all always learning, 

and may we all keep stumbling on love and friendships 

over and over in life.

💜

ganbatte, S!

set aside your opinions and listen

One of the best lessons I've learned in nearly twenty years as a journalist is that everyone has something to teach me. If you can find it within yourself to stop using conversations as a way to convince people that you're right, you will be stunned at what you've been missing. A flood of information will rush in to fill the vacancy left behind by your ego. You might be overwhelmed with knowledge, perspective, insight, and experience. You'll hear stories you had refused to hear because you were too busy stating and restating your case. If you enter every conversation assuming you have something to learn, you will never be disappointed. 

If you want to articulate your opinion, write a blog. If you want to have a conversation, set your opinions aside, at least temporarily. You might find you never want to return to them. You may find you've evolved beyond them.

~ We Need to Talk: How to Have Conversations that Matter by Celeste Headlee

I finished Pachinko in short order; it was so absorbing, though distressing, and made me cry on more than one occasion.

I really liked this bit:

He didn't want to go on anymore without Yumi, but this was something he could not say. She was his lover, but more than anything, she was his wise friend. He could never replace her. And he felt he had done her a great injustice by not having told her this. He had expected to live a long life with her, not a few years. Who would he tell when a customer did something funny? Who would he tell that their son had made him so proud, standing on crutches and shaking the hands of grown-ups and being braver than any other person in the room? When mourners wept at the sight of the little boy in the black suit, Solomon would say, "Don't cry." He calmed one hysterical woman by telling her, "Mama is in California." When the mourner looked puzzled, neither Mozasu or Solomon explained what this meant. 

He had never taken her there. They'd meant to go. With some difficulty, it was possible now for them to get passports, but he hadn't bothered. Most Koreans in Japan couldn't travel. If you wanted a Japanese passport, which would allow you to reenter without hassles, you had to become a Japanese citizen -- which was almost impossible, and no one he knew would do that anyway. Otherwise, if you wanted to travel, you could get a South Korean passport through Mindan, but few wanted to be affiliated with the Republic of Korea, either, since the impoverished country was run by a dictator. The Koreans who were affiliated with North Korea couldn't go anywhere, though some were allowed to travel to North Korea. Although nearly everyone who had returned to the North was suffering, there were still far more Koreans in Japan whose citizenship was affiliated with the North than the South. At least the North Korean government still sent money for schools for them, everyone said. Nevertheless, Mozasu wouldn't leave the country where he was born. Where would he go, anyway? So Japan didn't want them, so fucking what? 

Images of her filled his mind, and even as the mourners spoke to him, all he could hear was her practicing English phrases from her language books. No matter how many times Mozasu had said he would not emigrate to the United States, Yumi had not given up hope that one day they would live in California. Lately, she had been suggesting New York. 

"Mozasu, don't you think it would be wonderful to live in New York City or San Francisco?" she'd ask him occasionally, and it was his job to say that he couldn't decide between the two coasts. 

"There, no one would care that we are not Japanese," she'd say. Hello, my name is Yumi Baek. This is my son, Solomon. He is three years old. How are you? Once, when Solomon asked her what California was, she had replied, "Heaven."

After most of the funeral guests left, Mozasu and Solomon sat down at the back of the funeral hall. Mozasu patted the boy's back, and his son leaned into him, fitting into the crook of his father's right arm. 

"You're a good son," Mozasu said to him in Japanese. 

"You are a good papa."

Each time a woman stands up for herself,
without knowing it possibly,
without claiming it,
she stands up for all women.

-- Maya Angelou

💜

A universally-known truth now, no?

Living gratefully.

Simple concept, yes; does not mean easy though.

Notice the moments:

stop, look, go with the opportunity in the moment!

I get what he's saying here. I wish I felt like that more, 

or like noticed more, or be more cognizant.

Okay, this year is about cultivating greater gratitude, insya Allah.

---

Pachinko is proving a beautiful read; infuriating characters but at least there are amazing ones too.

"Child, come here," Isak said.

Noa approached him and sat on bended knees. Please God, please. Please make my father well. I'll ask this just once more. Please. Noa shut his eyes tightly. 

Isak took Noa's hand and held it. 

"You are very brave, Noa. Much, much braver than me. Living every day in the presence of those who refuse to acknowledge your humanity takes great courage." 

Noa chewed on his lower lip and didn't say anything. He wiped his nose with his hand. 

"My child," he said, and Isak let go of his son's hand. "My dear boy. My blessing."

So I'm going to post some happy/adorable photos now

to negate some of the angst and heaviness in the previous post:

seriously, I need to go spot some otters or something.

it would make my year.

and this was funny, because

you know how women typically put down how they look 🙉

I love how our group chat will forever be Linear Algebra.

Feeling a sudden crash from a good period of high and positive emotions
(god knows how much of these things are hormone-driven and how much triggered);
and reading articles about stuff like this: discrimination against women (and men?)
based on the colour of their skin, just makes me alternately despondent and furious.

I am so tired of horrible unjust things happening in the world,
and of terrible experiences in the subtle things around me in every day life.
So tired, seriously. Can I just be an unfeeling block of stone.
Apparently a lot of people function well like that, I think.
I should be one too. It's exhausting otherwise.

And sometimes I wonder if you know, being like Marthe,
who has established for herself low expectations so that she can get through life,
is the way to go. Like, just, don't expect anything. Hope, but don't expect?
That's really a thin and difficult line to distinguish.

I had a mini-epiphany while on umrah earlier this year;
that the key out of the anger one feels regardless of the cause,
is gratitude. But dang, is that hard to do when I'm so... blinded by anger.
God, I can't take it. Just so angry with the way some things are in this world.
How do I deal.


While reading Pachinko by Min Jin Lee, which talks a lot about the oppression of Koreans (or any gaijin, actually) during the Japanese occupation, this bit really moved me:

She loved spending the day with Kyunghee, whom she called Sister. After two brief months, they found themselves enjoying a close friendship -- an unexpected gift for two women who'd neither expected nor asked for much happiness.


I should treasure my unexpected gifts too.

I do want to (re-)connect with nature and replenish myself --
walk on grass or something --
everything feels heavy, or wrong, or disordered inside.

I need to pray,

and I need a getaway soon.

(omg what this is a real place)

I always have a current BTS earworm.

Now it's this:

💜

To the person I loved too much

To the red string that got too entangled in itself

I couldn't reach you, so I'll walk a separate path

For that reason I'll say goodbye

I've had increasing respect for this man;
and I've realized that some of the most admirable people to me
(whether they're friend or foe)
are those who act on their knowledge.
Russell Brand seems to be one of those; Malcolm X too,
and of course, Shaykh Hamza too I think.

I really want to be one of those people --
to keep learning, and then to keep transforming into the best version of me.

In this documentary by Russell Brand (FYI also currently available on Netflix),

you get to see how open, honest, real, and straightforward he is

about wanting to change things but being receptive to what other people say

and trying to get to the core of things to solve them.

Respect! It's for people like this.

(by the way, do you hear the opening musical beat that usually

comes with a new episode of Peaky Blinders? hehe...)

Near the end of this documentary, Russell says,

"I know a thing now. I know a thing.

And once I know a thing, I don't like all this meandering and nonsense;

why are we kowtow-ing to... and pretending we don't know..."

yes, precisely. And we have the very logical politician telling Russell,

yes, change will happen, it's just baby steps. But it will.

(Standard ministry response! ahah.)

We were just talking about something similar last weekend at book club;

that our female protagonist Forugh Forrakhzad from Song of a Captive Bird,

was admittedly quite unlikeable and sometimes downright terrible as a person

(we all hated her at some point; haha, M hated her so much it was hilarious),

but that regardless, I really recognized this admirable trait in her;

this passion, and conviction, and honesty to live by what you believe;

and like I said, it's amazing to behold in a person, friend or foe.

And it reminds me once again, of my subconscious list for what makes greatness in a person,

and this trait that I observe, falls into what I meant by sincerity. To recap, from observation, it appears to me that the recipe for greatness requires:

Sincerity (which includes authenticity and acting on your knowledge)

Courage

Wit

Discipline

And now I'm actually thinking what's missing and should be added to it is:

Empathy.

Without empathy, I'm thinking you might be great, but you might not be loved. Hmmmm.

Ja! To be further inspired  in this world.

This is a recent episode of Supernatural that featured a Scooby Doo crossover

(I love how crazy this show gets)

but the reason I'm posting this particular clip

is that Castiel comes back from Syria with fruit from the Tree of Life

and they look like... mangosteens?

and then we have the classic Scooby song!

HAHA. 😆 I love it.

Half the time, this show doesn't take itself that seriously

and it's so wonderfully funny.

'The hidden thoughts in other people's heads are the great darkness that surrounds us,' observes the historian Theodore Zeldin. Conversation enables us to penetrate that darkness. It sheds a light into the minds of the human universe we encounter every day -- lovers, strangers, adversaries or friends. Conversation and empathy are intimately intertwined: making the effort to comprehend another person's perspective can help bring an otherwise unremarkable dialogue to life, while conversation itself has the power to forge empathic connection. Together they can generate a virtuous circle, building upon and reinforcing one another. That's good news for confronting the crisis in conversation, and also tackling our empathy deficits. 

The challenge is to rethink how we talk to people so we can gain greater insights into their thoughts, feelings, and worldviews, and deepen our emotional bonds with them. And for this we can learn from the experiences of highly empathic people. I have noticed that they bring six unusual qualities to their conversations: curiosity about strangers, radical listening, taking off their masks, concern for the other, a creative spirit, and sheer courage.

-- Empathy: Why it matters and how to get it, by Roman Krznaric

(absolutely loving this book right now)

My favourite kid in the world right now:

I love how good he is with interacting with people

(probably because his dad has been talking with him so well on the show)

and I absolutely marvel at how well he eats. It's amazing.

We could possibly make him an example child for parents in our fussy-eater clinics;

look at how he just eats whatever else the adults around him eat!

And he doesn't even get too bothered with strange tastes!
He tried some cheese that was apparently very strong, and even gagged on it,
but all he did was blink his watery eyes away and comforted himself with some bread
and went on eating other things.

ohmygoodness, this cutie.

Recently I clicked on my older blogposts

(and realised ohmygoodness, my uni years seem a lifetime ago now),

and rediscovered Monkey Majik;

and seriously,

this is one of my favourite songs of all time.

this will have to play on my wedding day or something.

(or after my funeral is over,

somebody play this song to remember me).

if I had wings on my back

I would deliver

overwhelming joy to you right now

Just that term, overwhelming joy, or  better in Japanese: afuredasu shiawase -- that concept is so beautiful, and I think is borne basically from gratitude; the music video does try to depict that. The funny thing about deep joy, is that it usually has to be preceded in some way by deep sorrow; and the bridge between? Gratitude, I think.

I gushed about this song about 10 years ago, and here I am doing it again -- because I feel happy just listening to it, and the message about happiness and gratitude is even better. A million purple hearts to Monkey Majik for amazing music. 

💜💜💜💜💜💜💜 (+999 993 more)

Also, as I browsed the thoughts of my self in my early 20s, (amidst the cringe-y fangirling and the incessant study-ridden lamentations) I occasioned upon awesome nuggets:

"I was on the bus home today, and I was just daydreaming out the window as I am wont to do, and literally felt my anxieties deflate in size. Because again, I'd learnt to take perspective. And I realise that hey, so what if I don't take the supposed obvious route to supposed perceptions of success? I am truly, truly content with taking my own little steps at a time. Yes, I have my weaknesses but recognising them has helped me grow. And that as long as I know my own worth, then it doesn't matter at all. Because God would know me too. (Better than me, I should say.) It made me smile, just thinking that.

And that all I have to do is give my best."

~ September 15, 2009, S.

I actually recall this bus moment vividly.

Alhamdulillah, moments of clarity and peace in this world are hard to come by.

I'm proud of my younger self, mostly; 

and feel like this older version of me needs a kick sometimes,

as a reminder.