Kindness is a mark of faith, and whoever is not kind has no faith. ~ Rasulullah s.a.w.

On not-so-good days, sometimes simple basic truths like this, are very comforting.

Happy Ramadhan!

I've been feeling a peaceful melancholy lately, brought on partly by discovering that this kind of aesthetic (totally up my alley) exists on youtube:

And also rediscovering Corrine Bailey Rae's amazing song,

that just gets me in a mood:

Girl, put your records on

Tell me your favourite song

You go ahead let your hair down

Sapphire and faded jeans

I hope you get your dreams

Just go ahead let your hair down

You're gonna find yourself somewhere, somehow...

Personal goals: 

- create quiet moments that are mindful and beautiful, on a fairly regular basis. be happy with my protagonist self. believe in my happy ending! though insyallah, my life is a long story yet.

- read some Quraan this Ramadhan and re-commit some to memory for ad-hoc situations I find myself having to read out loud. (like leading a prayer of ladies at home) I used to be good at this as a child.

 Awaiting the release of the finale season for The Last Kingdom! 

To say I love this show is an understatement. I feel simultaneously excited and sad that it is ending.

I've said it many times, and I shall say it again: I absolutely love hero stories. And Uhtred is almost ridiculously awesome.

Also, love Uhtred's band of men! Finan is especially hilarious.

Uhtred tells his despondent men after yet again choosing the harder, more honourable path: I know you think we have given up untold wealth and status... But we have something greater than that.

Finan: Pleeeease do not say our friendship.

HAHAHA, I almost died. XD

(Up at an ungodly hour in front of the tv and in front of the computer, eeeesh, S.)

Is there a means more successful  or a deed more beneficial, than salawat upon whom Allah and all His angels salawat, and whom Allah has specified as a great means of seeking closeness to Him in Dunia and Akhirah? For salawat upon him (salallahu alaihi wassalam) is the greatest light, a trade that will not be unprofitable, and a practice of the Saints in the evening and morning. Hence, be diligent in salawat upon your Prophet (salallahu alaihi wassalam), through which you shall be purified of your temptations, it shall purify your deeds, you shall attain your highest hopes, the light of your heart shall shine, you shall attain your Lord's contentment and you shall be safe from the terrors of the day of fear and dread.

~ Al-Qaul Al-Badi', Al-Hafizh As-Sakhawi

The other day, Datin S and I were happily gushing over some delicious chocolate at Awfully Chocolate. We were fresh from a hot, sweaty walk along the Rail Corridor. I then proceeded to expound on my possible greater love for gummy candies. At which point, Datin S exclaimed amusedly not for the first time, my apparent... freedom? She seemed to think that I had an inner freedom that supposedly... allowed me to love gummy candies, haha! but more importantly... to be whoever I wanted, however I wanted. 

Her comment gave me some pause for thought. I think I have always known my personal particularities. I hesitate to say, don't we all? Because I am learning... that perhaps not everyone knows themselves as well as I expect them to. I have always known, for instance, that I love gummy candy; in fact, you don't have to go too far back on this blog for a post about my dreaming of a life-sized gummy bear in heaven, hehe. I also have many other clear favourites, don't I -- the stuff that I fangirl from whence I was small. A very clear, I like this, and zeroing straight in on it. I have a very clear memory of discovering the love of reading: I must have been six or seven years old, and I had discovered Enid Blyton's Wishing Chair series. I remember thinking how amazing it was that I could go to these limitless places in my imagination, just through the simple task of reading words. In retrospect, I feel grateful to have had such a loud internal voice from the get-go. I may not have been outspoken from very young, but I was always very loud and clear in my own head.

At some point, I think this loud and clear voice became the very reason I struggled emotionally for so very long through my younger years. There was a very obvious tension between my internal experience and the external world, that I had no choice but to attend to it earlier on, and face my self. This blog certainly bears witness. Perhaps, having had to butthead so openly my strong internal motivations has led me to synthesize a new space for coexistence. It's like that sacred paradox Carl Jung talks about, and that I read in Robert Johnson's Owning Your Own Shadow:

When the unstoppable bullet hits the impenetrable wall, we find the religious experience.

Basically, I somehow got to a place where I allowed my internal voice to live (I suppose it was so strong to begin with, there was no suppressing it for long, thank goodness); and I no longer punished it for being different from the world. For not fitting in with the accepted ego or persona. I honestly struggle to put this process into words, because the abstractness of it all still trips me up as well.

Anyway, this is perhaps what Datin S alluded to about inner freedom? She is right if she means that I have come to a space where I do not judge myself; I just am, most of the time. I just try and be. I love gummy bears! why not. I am a million other things, I am not a million other things as well, and it's all fine, Alhamdulillah. It is good and peaceful and happy.

It's not that I do not have dreams or desires; quite the contrary! I still have very deep, strong emotions that have not waned, and the voice loudly shouting at times about where I should go, as I am used to. But there's a big, wide space where everything is allowed to run its course, and settle down at a healthy middle. From some corner, I am also kindly looking down at all of this happening, while we figure it out together. With this level of busyness internally, who has time for the external? I basically don't. Besides, why should it matter to the external world that I love gummy bears, say. In recent times, the starkest difference in manifestation of all this internal change has been a drastic reduction in wanting to prove myself to anyone, or even correct any misinterpretation. There was a time when people's seemingly incorrect perceptions of me used to rub against me like sandpaper; but now, I have very surreal moments of... utterly not caring. Like a calm indifference to anyone's thoughts and feelings of me; it is a startling experience. But a good one, I suppose.

Having taken on more at work, and feeling a little like a many-limbed octopus trying to attend to multiple peoples and projects at once, this bit about Rasulullah s.a.w., from our spiritual reading club stunned me:

The Prophet's life was full of activity, but was never tense or confused. Numerous as the claims on his time were and vying for attention, he was always calm and relaxed. Little or non-existent tension was in his life. He was never at a loss. When you saw him attending to something, you would think that he had nothing to do before it and nothing to do after it. The way he was at home gave no hint that heavy burdens awaited him outside. If you saw him with his companions you had no indication that he was anxious about anything else awaiting his attention. He attended to them fully and was relaxed as he talked to them. His refined manners were felt by them all. It was like he had no business other than meeting his companions and attending to their needs. His was a situation of perfect equilibrium that approached all tasks with ease and comfort.

~ A Day In The Life of The Prophet Muhammad s.a.w., by Abdul Wahab Bin Nasir

I shall aspire towards this level of calmness and serenity, always. Not to mention his cheerfulness with every person he meets in his life. 💜

happy 2022!

This analogy keeps popping up in my head in recent times, that seems to fit my current internal state: those musicians who kept on playing as the Titanic sank. I feel a strange almost incongruous zen-ness, whilst my brain objectively assesses the apparent present dangers.

Wonderful, I suppose. One grows unknowingly in the undercurrent of life. Time for old panic patterns to fall away.

Insyallah, the year will grow more amazing and happily surprising as the days roll on. As it is, a metaphorical work-related bomb has detonated, and I find myself being girl boss. (Well, we're all mostly girls/ladies anyway, heheh.) Receiving love and support from varied quarters reassures me that... this is the right move, this is the right time. I am probably the right person.

Insyallah, Amin.

The believer who mixes with people and is patient with the hurt he or she experiences from them, 

is better than people who do not mix with people to avoid bearing the hurt.

~ a hadith of Rasulullah s.a.w.

It took me a long time to learn this... but tonight when we revisited this hadith, I realised I somehow had. Alhamdulillah, alhamdulillah, alhamdulillah, for hidden blessings.

I love this pair! Han Hyo Joo and Park Hyung Sik.

Feel a little cheated that their comeback show concluded only after 12 episodes, 

when I was ready for the typical 16.

I enjoy these korean zombie stories too much, heheh.

We had a housewarming at M's new house the other day. I got her a cute terrarium. We ate nasi ambeng and chatted, and seeing as how we were nearing the year end, M threw out the annual, "So what have you achieved this year and what are your plans next year" question. And I responded with my usual, "You are such a teacher." (She says I say that every time, haha.)

Later in the day M claimed we ignored her question, and remarked, "I especially want to hear S, cause I'm sure she has like a 10-year-plan." Which literally made my jaw drop. I couldn't refrain from saying in the moment, "That is a complete misreading of my character! I do not live that way at all."

Not that it is bad necessarily to have a 10-year plan, not at all of course! In fact, M always has this lofty image of me (I don't know how she sustains it) and thinks someone like me must be super driven and lay out a checklist for every stage of my life ahead of time, or something.

No? no, no, no?

I wish I was some semblance of a person with a practical checklist. But I'm quite the opposite. M's annual reflection question gives me a sense of anxiety, rather. I am impractical and whimsical, to a fault. I have lived life... a-flow (I just invented that word); though perhaps... I have learnt to direct my flow better. That I'm not utterly adrift, but flowing along a current, somewhat. This is how I've lived. And I think people are stunned that I'm this sort of person, seeing as how I'm an actual clinician and maybe the image of a typical clinician isn't... that. The way M remarked on this, reminds me of the times people said things to me like, "you must like studying" or "why did you choose a course that took so long?" When I hear such things, I get some sort of a brain shock, I think, because clearly... the way I have framed the world is entirely different from your questions. 

I don't really know how to be 'practical' (whatever that truly means). I have just followed a sense... that I have attributed to the tuggings of my heart. It has served me well, in general. Well, that's not so much true as... I actually can't ignore the deeper tugging of my heart. If I try to push myself towards supposed practical things that my heart objects to, I feel like a dark cavern opens up inside me; it's a horrible, horrible feeling. So I don't. It's a no-go when my hearts says no. I honestly don't know if this is in fact still an immature process or I'm off-track or only teenagers think like this or whatever; I honestly don't.

I do know however that my heart and me are in such a good place now. We have loads more trust. Loads more love. And it's about the journeying together. I'm not going anywhere without heart. I've also learnt that she's way smarter than I think, and when she says something, I'm not ignoring her.

If this ends up being the last post of the year,

I've contributed my annual reflective piece, haven't I? heheh.

---

"It's my fault," Conor said. "I let her go. It's my fault."

It is not your fault, the monster said, its voice floating in the air around him like a breeze.

"It is."

You were merely wishing for the end of pain, the monster said. Your own pain. An end to how it isolated you. It is the most human wish of all.

"I didn't mean it," Conor said.

You did, the monster said, but you also did not.

Conor sniffed and looked up to its face, which was as big as a wall in front of him. "How can both be true?"

Because humans are complicated beasts, the monster said. How can a queen be both a good witch and a bad witch? How can a prince be a murderer and a saviour? How can an apothecary be evil-tempered but right-thinking? How can a person be wrong-thinking but good-hearted? How can invisible men make themselves more lonely by being seen?

"I don't know, " Conor shrugged, exhausted. "Your stories never made any sense to me."

The answer is that it does not matter what you think, the monster said, because your mind will contradict itself a hundred times each day. You wanted her to go at the same time you were desperate for me to save her. Your mind will believe comforting lies while also knowing the painful truths that make those lies necessary. And your mind will punish you for believing both.

"But how do you fight it?" Conor asked, his voice rough. "How do you fight all the different stuff inside?"

By speaking the truth, the monster said. As you spoke it just now.

Absolutely love this.

Just had the cousins' book club discussion for another of Brene Brown's works. 

I really needed the therapeutic fix.

I do believe... our discussions and conversations guide me closer to home. 

I inevitably feel so much better after we talk and share.

Also, my current scene in my active imagination practice, has me raging, 

"This is a lie! None of this is real!" 

But I know... you're just trying to bring me home.

And then I want to burst into tears instead.

---

a separate thing:

this has been my earworm for a while.

I'll be at the front of the boat making sure you have a clear path.

The sea won't always be this gentle though. We will be met with wind and waves. And even typhoons will come our way.

So what if we get soaked in the rain? Who cares if the wind blows a bit... when we're in the same boat?

~ Hometown Cha-cha-cha

ohmyheart. This actually reminds me of the end of Lymond, which remains one of the most beautiful quotes to me: "We have reached the open sea, with some charts; and the firmament."

SPOILER WARNING

The last time I felt stunned by a korean drama was when W aired about 5 years ago, and I really could not predict what would happen in the next episode. The show was novel and creative in ways kdrama fandom was utterly unprepared for; it blew our minds, I remember well, hahaha. As a whole though, that show was flawed and did not wrap up well, but I remember thinking, mygoodness, korean entertainment is breaking new ground.

Fast forward to 2021: we have had the Oscar-winning Parasite, and the recent crazy success of Squid Games to corroborate this fact. Korea makes good entertainment, who can deny that now. For me though, I felt wonderfully stunned once again, not by these objectively good productions per se, but by this recent watch of Hometown Cha-cha-cha, whose finale aired tonight. 

It is a testament to the evolution of korean drama, that instead of getting the familiar angsty push-pull, sometimes toxic, usually childish, romance drama that we have been fed with for years, we actually get insanely mature romance that I feel I should be taking notes on. It's crazy! Every time I expect our male lead to act a certain way, he acts differently! I am literally gasping from shock and admiration.

I kept thinking, Is this for real? Are we really going to get a healthy functional couple on television working through stuff together? 

Here's an example, where they talk about needing to open up but understanding that time is necessary. Not to mention him accepting her confession on the spot, when I was sure he was going to push her away! My jaw dropped, really.

  

I keep telling Datin S, yes, korean drama actually gives good romance advice now.

take notes.

Letting go is like the sudden cessation of an inner pressure or the dropping of a weight. It is accompanied by a sudden feeling of relief and lightness, with an increased happiness and freedom. 

It is an actual mechanism of the mind, and everyone has experienced it on occasion.

~ Letting Go, David Hawkins

Just finding ways to re-center my self... oh, the wobble.

 

The Prophet s.a.w. said, 'I am a tree, Fatima is its branch, Ali is its flower, Hasan and Husayn are its fruit and the lovers of the people of the house are its leaves. All of them will be in Paradise. This is the truth, this is the truth.'

~ Narrated by Al-Daylami and cited by Al-Sakhawi

journeying

You have to take delight in the trail. You have to be so happy about the journey that you're not upset that you haven't completed the destination, because you will never complete the destination. 

...

Life is dynamic. It will never stand still.

~ Abraham Hicks

I am often reassured by the Prophet s.a.w. saying, "Wisdom is the lost treasure of the believer." 💚 I find gems in the varied things I stumble onto whilst reading or listening or watching something. I am glad I have been able to collect and accumulate them, such that they start to progressively fit like little jigsaw puzzles that provide glimpses of truth and reality. 

Sometimes people feel like they have to censor themselves, you know? Like, oh, this person subscribes to an ideology I am against therefore I shall remove him entirely from my mind space. Having been from a minority existence, I found that if I were to listen at all, I often had to listen with discernment. This has enabled me to practise open-mindedness, I feel, without hopefully sacrificing the integrity of my personal values and beliefs. The diversity of knowledge and information out there fascinates me. And to connect the dots between things feels almost cathartic. When people go, "You're reading what???" or "Such and such person is _____, you know." or when they give the ever-threatening look that implied I had crossed some sacred holy line and was about to slip into damnation, I feel like saying, "I'm just reading guys, chiiiiillllll." Of course, not that long ago, it would have involved me blowing up in anger. I'm much older now and instead of being appalled or triggered, I find myself internally going, hmmmmm, neatening up my pile of mental notes anyway, aaaaand moving on.

 Datin S has returned (albeit briefly), and I feel like I've been hit by an incidental bout of nostalgia.

Having a really good friend in the same profession is a precious thing.

It's a Monday, and I haven't had any blues today, and truth be told, 

I don't really have Monday blues anymore, do I? Not for a long while.

It is often that I reflect on this, because I'd feel surprisingly good despite the start of a work week. I'd think, wow, and recall the dreadful mornings dragging my feet to the hospital and fervently wishing or ranting how a work week should be only 3 or 4 days long, or how our lives should be more balanced. Or not have me zombified from a lack of sleep or burnt out from exhaustion. It's nice how I've somehow managed to live the way I want to, mostly, and I hope to keep carving out my life this way, insyallah. I'm big on so many other things besides my work (like my reading and my book clubs for example, that I'd hate not being able to exert adequate energy to them). People like to think, oh you don't have kids or a family surely you must be bored and have nothing better to do apparently -- I typically feel stunned by people who say such things (and previously more incensed), because what narrow lives they must live. Children would certainly take up a lot of my time when or if I have them, but my god, my life is currently rich with a lot of events and activity and creative dreams. I don't need official work to keep me occupied.

Anyway, I digress, because I just wanted to report a happy day revisiting some happy things,

like this song! which came on as I journeyed home

(although it isn't exactly a happy one)

this is just a stunningly emotional song and performance; love this.

happy cafe food from recent days; 

part of the nostalgia with my ever-favourite sticky toffee date

and dalkomm! a cafe I often wish I had more easy access to:

And just now, as I was having my usual ball of a Monday night watching Runningman,

I also stumbled on BTS's performance of Permission To Dance at the UN.

I am so proud and thrilled, oh my heart.

It's another project and another year at the UN.

I haven't been partial to this song at all...

(I am secretly resentful of BTS's repeated English song releases, because it appears to me to be company or corporate demand or something, especially since they joined these big Western conglomerates; and it all seems to chip away at BTS's authenticity and true artistry.)

But! This performance lights up my fangirl fire.

This emoji truly sums up how I feel when I watch these boys, hehe.

😍

"If you want to improve, be content to be thought foolish and stupid." -- Epictetus

After ruminating tonight about what to post here and then trashing a draft that just didn't feel right, I watched some tv, and this quote popped up. It's weird, but this one, I decided, felt right.

oyasumi.

The longer the gap between my posts, the harder it is to finally write one, because I get inundated with the varied possibilities of each post: shall I talk about pottery, the new hobby I sort of stumbled (or did I leap) into? shall I talk about our recent profound discussions at book club, about suicide and happiness? or the fact that at a class discussion tonight, we revisited this topic and S shared about her friend surviving a recent ordeal and being glad to be alive? This lady apparently has three kids and I remember marveling how there's no telling what makes someone happy or otherwise. You hear of someone going into depression and getting divorced for not being able to have children, and then you hear of a mother with three children on the brink of suicide. It's mind-boggling.

And then I think of walking home from pottery class the other day, by my lonesome, feeling unbelievably good and happy. Alhamdulillah. Feeling so happy with how much I've grown, how much I've learnt to nurture myself and live in the world as the human being I aspire to be, to have faith and look towards goodness (the clouds of goodness I'm always waiting to rain on me! the retrospectively prophetic name of this space). I have been feeling eternally grateful and somewhat in awe that I have been allowed to feel this way or have this space; this space to be okay. To be okay, Alhamdulillah.

It just feels really nice to work on something with my hands; I just felt the need to do that at some level. It's been really therapeutic, I think. I'm about to splurge more $$$ on tools etc., and god knows how I will obtain an endless amount of clay to play with once my official classes are done. But essentially, the quiet art work is just... something necessary to my well-being, I feel. It's been really good... grounding? Maybe. Inevitably, I also remember my brief stints in art club or art classes when I was younger, and wonder what would have happened if I'd been allowed to pursue this side of my inclinations instead. Typically, everything I do or work with most of my life, even for fun, has been exceedingly cerebral; to be whole, one has to be rounded and delve into those corners too long ignored.

To bring this back around... 

what is happiness? An eternally-debated philosophical question, certainly. I'm just glad that I'm developing some skill or perhaps a reflection, that I can choose to be happy. To realise every day that I am alive. To be glad to have faith, the oft-taken-for-granted soul-replenishing element. To look to the pregnant clouds, happily waiting for rain.

It's been raining heavily too these few days! 

And we were hoping to walk the Rail Corridor tomorrow. 

Ja!

realer than real

I recently had a dream, that had a quality to it... like glass. Or a mirror. Something about the dream jarred me to attention. Perhaps, I'm more attuned now to growing my Self so that at some level, I am more conscious of the times when I am staring straight on at myself.

The bit that I remember vividly, started when the laughter of family faded away, and somehow I was sitting by myself, in this corner of an old, almost vintage room. It had turquoise walls and low wood paneling, and I was behind a huge desk... with a narrow corner right behind me. For some reason, or because of a low rumbling I sensed from the outside, I went to the window to peek out. I saw beautiful, deep blue waves rolling towards the shore, approaching so close to the walls of my space. I remember feeling stunned, and thinking, my goodness, it's coming. I had also noticed that this beach house I was in was strangely, sitting solidly on the sand. I rushed to another window, and even from this one -- blue waves were approaching. I rushed out, standing on the sand. And these... calm, beautiful, deep blue waves were just quietly approaching. I didn't feel so much scared, as overawed. The water started to wet my feet and reach my ankles. Then I woke up.

All this stuff, in my head. Just like that other dream I once had, about finding eyes behind my eyes. It makes me think about what is real, what is reality, where does it connect... and as Robert Johnson termed it in his books about the psyche: realer than real. Whatever that truly means. But it seems to hit the nail, it seems to hit right.

Then there are other nights -- breaking the somewhat somber mood of this post -- when my dreams consist of insane levels of frivolity, like finding BTS's Park Jimin in my vicinity. And thinking, oh, he's here again, I shan't disturb him. Haha, what a joke! Like Jimin is a boy in my neighbourhood or something. He had fans bothering him (although he looked perpetually kind and smiley) and I had a thought about catching him at another time. In retrospect, I wonder why Jimin. I never declared him my bias (that spot has always toggled between RM, Jin, and Jungkook -- but then, I really love them all, so who knows the deep levels of my mind). Perhaps amidst all the fan-level crazy of this part of my brain, there's meaning somewhere in there too; I have since learnt that all dreams are messages of some sort...? This one though, clearly with a far different level of urgency and gravity.

---

In other happy frivolous news, I have stumbled on possibly a new lister for my top 5 kdramas of all time, Sell Your Haunted House. This drama snuck up on me quietly. It aired a little while back and I didn't jump on it immediately at first. It's about friendship, family, the pain and hurts of life and how humans fail to release them. It's about the choices humans make and how evil comes back around to haunt you. It only teases at romance and leaves us all wanting, not in a bad way. And the backdrop for all this: a story about exorcists chasing ghosts away. Awesommmeee. Also, the cast chemistry is awesommmmme. Jang Nara is phenomenal; I've watched so many of her stuff and she has always been a solid actress, but she blew me away in this show. The ever-charming Yong Hwa added the right level of levity to the story, and balanced out the heavy themes and Jang Nara's gravitas. Chef's kiss for this combo.

Also, Yong Hwa sings the theme song! 
It's like a boppy anthem for the ghostbuster gang or something, haha.

I love it.

and here's an especially adorable one, around the bickering that happens, hehe.