I was sitting at dal.komm at the new Funan Mall today,
(I absolutely love cafes and wish we could keep having them
sprouting up in increasingly gorgeous or interesting spots)
while waiting for my cousin's movie screening at The Substation nearby
-- and I had the urge to test out my psychic feeling with E
(who entertains all my ridiculous ideas) and so texted her:
"I'm doing my psychic experiment now. Are you at Marina Square?"


hahaaaa. no, she wasn't. I really thought I would flip if she was, hehe.

I'm envious of E a little cause I actually really think she might be (at-least-better-than-baseline-mediocre-human level) psychic; and yet she's the one who cautiously entertains my excited forays into reading about all this crazy, intriguing stuff (my current reading detour: Second Sight). That is not the point however; the point is that we all apparently have a capacity to connect to this force or have bizarre experiences that make us stop -- that make us once in a while, at least acknowledge the existence of a greater power (i.e. God?) or a mystical level of existence that our poor limited minds can barely wrap around.

Anyway -- despite the fact that my psychic experiment failed today,
I am posting this song that popped into my head while I was brushing my teeth earlier.
It came unbidden, random, but perhaps significant...

as I slowly realise how the lyrics
make unbelievable sense years after I heard it as a child.

The secret is to go with the mystery. When a situation doesn't make immediate sense, a larger overall message may appear if you let it unfold naturally. This doesn't mean you should put yourself in circumstances that are potentially destructive. You need to stay alert, use your head, know when to walk away. But you must also try not to discount or underestimate the implications of synchronous events.

-- Second Sight by Judith Orloff


💗

I think the problem occurs when your ego or desires
interfere with the unfolding of events.

Chill, S.

this difficult space

I've been trying to learn patience...

the patience to sustain oneself in a difficult space,

trusting that as I keep calmly walking,

the way will appear.

Now be silent.

Let the One who creates the words speak.

He made the door.

He made the lock.

He also made the key.

~ Rumi

As you start to walk on the way,

the way appears.

~ Rumi

I'm reminded of the time E and I were sitting at dinner at Encik Tan;

and E (and perhaps me too, I can't quite remember)

was not in a good state; in retrospect, my gosh, that was

a difficult space. It almost brings tears to my eyes, just thinking

about how painful some things in this life are and how humans necessarily struggle.

It's one of those interesting conundrums: is it possible to be human and not struggle?

Fast forward to today, Alhamdulillah, I feel that whatever constriction there was then has gone. But then I realise, of course, life is a series of expansions and constrictions, isn't it? Here comes the next wave in this life. (At this point, I actually paused and looked up expansions and constrictions in Islam, because I was sure it was mentioned in the Quran -- it is: 2:245 "God constricts (the heart) and expands it."; but a little further reading and my brain started melting trying to understand Islamic mysticism.)

Life is a series of constrictions and expansions.

Also apparently, your constrictions and expansions are proportionate.

A painful constriction is insya Allah a prelude to a cathartic expansion.

so S, it's just a difficult space for the moment.

Constriction is a gripping of the heart, an experience analagous to fear, but far more intense in that it is an experience of something immediate, in the present. Expansion is a dilation, a feeling of peace or well-being, again intensified down into the immediate present.

...

These two states (constriction and expansion) arise after the servant has risen beyond the condition of fear and hope. Constriction is to the master as fear is to the beginner. Expansion is to the master as hope is to the beginner.

~ Qushayri, Early Islamic Mysticism by Michael A. Sells

oh my heart,

this song

Tonight, I spent some time thinking again, how constant a need it is to grieve one's idea of people; or maybe, it's especially an issue with idealistic people like me. I'm waaaay better now than I used to be, but it's like one of those cyclical lessons in life: not to expect love the way you want it to be. Or at a simpler, more micro level, to have people be as considerate as you feel you would be or could be. But damn, I'll always have bad days right, when I can't take it anymore and can't someone else just suffer instead, just for once, for once! Why do I have to be the kind one, why. Some days I'm just really tired; really, really, really tired.

I'm reminded of Lymond now: 

"Today, if you must know, I don't like living at all. 

But that's just immaturity boggling at the sad face of failure. 

Tomorrow I'll be bright as a bed bug again."

And then I was mentioning to E, that this must be why we love heroes so much.

To believe that there could be someone 

who was always kind,

always steady,

always to be relied on.

Someone I don't have to grieve.