The Mind-Body Continuum

Here I am again, posting my weekly article midweek, instead of the weekend, because I've wrapped up work for the year and now enjoying a well-deserved break. This is also most likely my last post for 2022.

I'm listening to some Telemann Sonatinas over Spotify while typing these words. Baroque music is so conducive for writing and reflection. What shall I reflect upon today? Perhaps the nature of reflection itself?

Descartes famously made his cogito ergo sum ("I think, therefore I am) declaration almost 400 years ago, initiating what is now known in philosophy as the mind-body problem. We could all be living in The Matrix but what makes us who we are is our thinking mind. We are thinking, reflecting and doubting about the reality of our existence; yet the only thing we cannot deny is our thinking faculty. That fact that we are capable of doubting means that we, or at least our mind is real. The rest could be illusions, generated by the Devil (in Descartes hypothetical though experiment) or in our cyberpunk parlance, simulated by machines.

So we are thinking creatures, or that's what we believe we are. As I'm typing these words, I am encapsulating my thoughts into words so that they may be transmitted to you. You are reading these words and suddenly--my thoughts materialise in your head. It is quite a miracle, isn't it?

Information has been transmitted through a pattern of dark marks on the screen. We are immediately linked karmically, because there is no way you are not reacting to what I just wrote. The fact that you understood my sentence indicates that something is already synthesized in your head. I have dropped a pebble into the pond of your mind and you are now feeling its rippling effects.

The ripples in your mind are your thoughts. Yoga citta vritti nirodha--Patanjali's definition of yoga, which is the second aphorism in the Yoga Sutras, loosely translated as "Yoga is the cessation of waves in the mind".  When we meditate we see these waves arising, and we allow them to subside. Mind waves or thoughts shrink and subside, if you would allow them to. 

Mind waves, the citta vritti, constantly arise from vibrations captured through the senses. Our senses prompt us to act and react to these input signals. We can shape the reactions of the mind by adjusting its 'viscosity'. Imagine two bowls on the table--one containing water, the other oil. When you tap on the table, which bowl of liquid has more ripples on its surface? Why is there a difference?

The "mind-stuff" of every individual is different.  But this mind-stuff is all we can change, for better or worse. The mind is a black box with a time-variant state, which produces some output based on the input. It is a neural network that constantly learns and thus we can never predict what the output would be at any given moment. If we know what we want to achieve, we can shape its learning so that it converge towards a certain desired outcome.

What effect does this Telemann Sonata in F minor that is playing now has on my mind? I do not know exactly, but I do feel relaxed and focussed. Words are streaming out effortless from my mind; words that wrap each moment of time with its potent energy. Words are like packets of energy that impinges on another person's mind, triggering a series of chain reactions there. Workers of the world unite! You have nothing to lose but your chains! These simple but powerful words from Marx and Engels in the Communist Manifesto, for better or worse, changed the world. 

Philosophers talk about the mind-body problem--how do mental events affect the world of matter and vice versa. This is a false dichotomy. Information cares not about its medium of transmission. Karma is just information, which requires energy to transmit. It hops from mind to mind and mind to body, resulting in action.  

The light tapping of my fingers on the computer keyboard is my action. The pattern of taps is determined by information conveyed through my thinking. The information is encoded in these symbols that you see now on the screen. And then these symbols act like computer programs that generate further thoughts in your mind, and fused with fresh information from your memory, who knows what further actions they will trigger? 

Thoughts and actions are just two ends of the spectrum. Thoughts are just subtle actions; actions are gross expressions of thoughts. The mind and body is but a continuum. Let's release our thoughts into the world. You'll never know what changes they shall affect. 

Slow-read, surely

This is the second last article of the 2022 and as usual, I'm not exactly sure what I'm going to write about. When in doubt, just write--about anything. One can always write about the act of writing itself.

I've been journalling a lot these past 2 years, even though in terms of events, these must have been the least eventful years of my life. In my last article, I mentioned how events are time markers and they are the thing that gives us a sense of the passing of time. It is no wonder that time just flew by over the past two years but even so, they are no less meaningful. I've enjoyed the time I spent interacting with people at work, which had been almost 100 percent online.

When you work online, everyone becomes equal. Every colleague is a cubicle mate.  In some strange way, people are more approachable because it takes a lot less effort to make contact--you simply 'ping' them. There's no sense of like knocking the door of someone's office. That sense of hierarchy is not so evident when everyone is a ping away.

I can as easily whisper something to a colleague in Budapest as I do to a colleague who happens to live a few blocks away. My attitude towards work is simple: it is not important. Work is just an excuse for me to hang out with friends. It simply gives me great pleasure to help friends, and hopefully in the process I learn something from it too.

I do not mind repetitive tasks--even the most mundane ones provide one with opportunities to learn. How so? Simple. If something is so repetitive, then one must be able to do it without thinking. It then becomes a mechanical task requiring only muscle memory. When one is performing such a task then, the brain is 'free'. It's like driving--when you drive you can listen to an audiobook and meditate on other things. It's actually the best use of time--you are killing two birds with one stone.

My goal is to make my everyday job as mechanical as possible so that I can free my mind for 'higher level' processing. For example, I often think of ways to improve my work efficiency: how can I perform this mechanical task even faster? What is the best time for performing a certain task? How do I minimise errors? What tools and templates can I use towards this end?

When you approach your daily tasks this way, everything becomes interesting. Even a sending routine email reply is an opportunity to be 'creative'. I often try to use an unexpected word or phrase things in such a away that they appear fresh. 

When I have a series of routine tasks to perform, it affords me the opportunity to free my brain to listen to a podcast or even 'watch' a video. There's so much content to consume these days that one must make full use of one's spare mental bandwidth for such a purpose.

Recently I found a new way of reading: it is the complete opposite of speed-reading. You see, I have an old LED monitor of VGA resolution, which I don't really use anymore. So I hooked it up to my personal laptop as a second screen and mounted it in portrait position. I would then use it to display a full page from an e-book. It sits there beside my main computer monitor almost like a framed picture and every time I rest my eyes on it, I inevitably read a few lines, like how one could not avoid reading a poster.  

This I think is the ultimate way to slow-read. I would be in no hurry to turn the page. The reading is purely incidental; and when I think I've read every sentence in the page, then only I would advance to the next. And there you have a way of indirectly reading a book! 

I think we tend to rush through life too much. If you are making tea, you'll have to allow time for the tea leaves to infuse in hot water. Some content should be consumed that way too. Poetry for instance, is to be savoured slowly, requiring many repeated readings for one to truly grasp its hidden beauty. 

When time seems to speed past us in a blur and when work seems utterly routine and mundane, complain not. Find those interstices of space and time and allow the good things in life to infuse into your soul. Slow-read your way to a more fulfilling life!

Milking the Meaning of the Moment

I decided not to go to a cafe today. Wanted to spend some time at home, in my room, on a weekend, for a change. I'm feeling very relaxed but sleepy at the same time. But no matter, we'll continue blogging today's article which will be a reflection on the passing of time.

I do not feel my age at all. Partly this is because the core beliefs of mine have not changed much over the past 10, even 20 years. I have gained a lot more in terms of knowledge and temperament, but I am still steadfast in my goal of remaining single, continuing my life as a secular sanyasin.

We remember our lives as a series of events. We feel that time passes quickly only when we do not have interesting marker events through a specific passage of time. Marker events are like, a change of jobs, marriage, deaths, births, accidents and anything out-of-the-ordinary that makes a deep impression in you. And your life is just remembered as a chronological series of such events. The less events there are, the faster time seems to fly.

Repetitive events or tasks do not register much in our minds. These become the background where the outstanding events stand out. Repetitions however build momentum. Repetition also creates habits. Habits are simple automatic 'macros' that get executed on cue. We can program the body and mind with useful macros by choosing what we perform repeatedly. When we go about our daily lives, we are most of the time, driven by such macros, contributing to the sense of swiftness in time's passing.

The series of marker events become the framework for us to recollect and to place the chronology of other less important events, when they are recollected. I would remember when I read Yogananda's Autobiography of a Yogi, because I have a memory of reading it at the airport in Hong Kong, while waiting for my flight home, on my first trip there. I choose to read outdoors because of this--the location where I read a particular book, even a particular page is registered in my mind clearly.  

Some great memories I have: reading about the mutiny on the Bounty at the Day's Inn motel in Palo Alto back in the early nineties; The Unbearable Lightness of Being in my rented room in Damansara Jaya, Barrow's Boys while enjoying a stout at the Bishan St 22 food court, The Horizontal Instrument at a park in Geneva, a biography of Sukarno on the train to Bandung and Hemingway's collection of short stories in a waiting room at Assunta hospital, Petaling Jaya. Having books with me, enriched my life considerably.  

Nowadays I'd also bring along my fountain pen and journal with me--creating new memories by writing at different locations, capturing the rich experience of writing with a fountain pen on a fresh crisp page of my journal.  Pens, books and journals are my everyday staple.

Life is lived moment by moment. What matters most is the moment itself, like now. I'm typing these words, every word is roughly a moment in time. Each moment is infused with memory from the past and an anticipation of the future. Memories are the fuel that propels us into the future. But in navigating life, one must focus on the moment at hand to fully live. Even a recollection of the past is a present moment, fused with the intensity of memory and the weight of its philosophical meaning.

Milking meaning from each moment, would be a good way of describing how I live my life. Even the most mundane moments have meaning. Every day when I perform my job, I try to infuse each moment, even boring ones with some kind of cosmic importance. By respecting the moment, you are acknowledging life and allowing that quanta of time to be a pixel in your overall picture of life.

Blogging is a way for me to live life intensely, because I reflect on every word that I choose, and I infuse them with the emotional force of my experience. The meditative act of writing is a great clarifier and cleanser of the mind. 

Our lives are ephemeral. We knit our experiences into the fabric of time and make our mark in physical space by building, destroying and rearranging matter. We attempt to procreate for self-preservation. But all that, in the end is in vain. What matters is the moment of time when it is lived. So milk the moment for what it's worth--whatever it is, that is the meaning and the totality of your life.

The Feast and Fiesta of Football

It's another day of leave for me and I'm here at the mall, enjoying a cup of hot chocolate, and soaking in the cheerful Christmas season vibe. I love the month of December because it is year-end and the month of Christmas, which is my favourite festival (even though I don't celebrate it).

We're also in the middle of the Football World Cup fever now, with all the knock-out matches for the last 16 already played. Quarter-finals will resume tomorrow. I don't exactly have a favourite team for this World Cup, but I find myself rooting for the underdog. Morocco did a good job the other day, knocking out Spain through penalty-kicks to book their place in the quarterfinals, where they will play a resurgent Portugal.

Why is the world crazy about football? It is by far the most popular sport worldwide. Part of the reason for its popularity is its simplicity and it's also the cheapest game to play, especially for kids in poorer countries.

I used to play a lot of football when I was a kid. There's always someone in the neighbourhood owns a ball, and that is sufficient unleash 20 over scrawny kids to chase over it in some patch of grass on someone's backyard. I wasn't very good at it in the beginning. But that changed once I got hold of a book by George Best, where I learned the proper techniques on how to use different parts of the feet to perform different types of kicks. After I mastered them, I leapfrogged over my fellow playmates in school. 

There's always a kind of macho one-upmanship among the boys of our age then: those who were football-challenged on the pitch were labelled 'kaki bangku' (stool-legged).  During school Physical Education lessons, we were happiest when the teacher would just throw us a ball and allow us to play among ourselves for the whole session.  There is always the one kid, who would love to hog the ball, showing off his dribbling skills and the rest of us would shout 'jangan goreng' in annoyance.

I wasn't much of a dribbler, preferring the freedom of space in the wings. So I fashioned myself as a winger with a penchant for charging to the touchlines and delivering the most delicious of crosses into the penalty box. My crosses were much admired, with some of my team-mates even calling them 'world class'. 

I knew how to curl the ball perfectly and had developed great accuracy with my lethal left foot. I had scored many long-range goals, curling and placing the ball perfectly right under the crossbar in the top corner.  I was quite obsessed with the game then, every door frame became goalposts to me, and ever object on the floor, the incidental ball. I would imagine how I would approach the 'ball', and place it beyond the imaginary goalkeeper of the doorframe.

Football was utter joy for us. The soccer field was where we were happiest, because we felt free chasing up and down the green. Being an amateur player helped me to understand and appreciate football as a game much better. People who do not like football often say that the game is boring because matches do not often produce many goals. But they are simply missing the whole point of football completely. 

A football match is not only about goals but about every little movement and activity of the players: it is watching how beautiful a pass is, how much curl is in the flight of the ball, and how well a player controls it, and how masterfully he gets pass a defender, and how satisfyingly accurate a shot is struck, placing it just inside the post, beyond the outstretched hands of the keeper. A football match is a collection of artistic duels and displays by 22 athletic performers. Goals are just the icing on the cake.

But why are are football supporters so fanatical about their favourite team? That's the psychological part of the game. Football gives everyone a chance to be a part of something larger--it is acceptance into a tribe. As long as you are acquainted with all the players, watched all their matches and had paid your dues suffering the pain of their defeats, you are part of the family. You've earned your right to celebrate the joys of their victories as exuberantly and as ecstatically as you wish. 

Our everyday life doesn't give us the kind of emotional highs that football does. When your team wins it is your victory but when they lose, yes you'll sulk for a while, but it is not exactly your personal loss. Your pain is diluted by the shared suffering of fellow supporters. The joy of victory on the other hand, is amplified by being a part of the community.   

Football provides humans with an opportunity to be hunter-gatherers again, working together to slay a beast and sharing the spoils. It is something that's primal and hardwired in our genes. While modern world is  increasingly condemning us to a sedentary life in front of a computer screen, living our virtual lives in metaverses, football yanks us out of all that. 

Football plants out feet on the ground, making us feel the earth and its gravity, reconnecting us with the the cooperative and competitive instinct within us. And every 4 years we get together to celebrate this basic humanity of ours, in that marvellous feast and fiesta of football that is the World Cup.

The Odyssey of a Child

I'm back in my abode in Cyberjaya, feeling relaxed and far from the busyness of a typical week-day at work. The soft strains of a Haydn sonata in the background makes me feel right at home, transporting me back to my childhood days.

So much of our personality is just born with us. As a kid, I enjoyed playing on my own, trampling through the undergrowth in jungle, being close to nature and its many mysteries. The world was simply a playground to be explored. Even then, I've always felt I was continuing an on-going adventure that is life.

So many of the sights and sounds felt familiar to me. I was a child of the universe, as much as I was the offspring of my parents. When you are young and unburdened by the cares and hard realities of life, you felt like you could conquer the world. Nothing was impossible. You felt confident that even the greatest of mysteries are penetrable.

I read, because that was what I thought everyone did. Reading was to me, a mature activity that adults do. I couldn't wait to be able to stick my nose into thick tomes written in a language that I was still struggling to comprehend. My limited vocabulary did not deter me from poring through every page and sentence from cover to cover. For books were the emblem of adulthood and I couldn't wait to become one.

I did not know why a love of classical music came so naturally to me. It was as if I had known all the great composers--Mozart, Beethoven, Chopin--all along. I was just getting reacquainted with old friends. Their music seemed like a part of nature--emanating from the trees, the leaves, the sky and the stars that decorated the night. And wondrous nights they were, filled with the magic of moonlight, the incessant hum of insects and the serenade of nocturnal birds.

Little did I know then, adulthood was like the expulsion from the Garden. And then all subsequent passages of life, are but attempts to return to that lost Eden of childhood.  But Time, in its all-knowing wisdom, sets us up in unexpected ways, turning our odysseys into rites of regret and reconciliation. We become adults, simply by trying in vain to be children again.

But all we could recover were glimpses of that immortality. Nature made a pact with us, turning us into fathers and mothers of children, as a consolation for lost innocence. Though nothing--as Wordsworth so eloquently put it--can bring back "the hour of splendour in the grass, glory in the flower", we resolve to be strong. Thus we grieve the quiet grief of adults, hiding our despair in the vanity of worldly pursuits. 

And in our quiet moments, echoes of those childhood laughter still ring in the mind, coaxing us on, for they seem to lie ahead and not behind. And so we trudge on, with the faith that had been forged in our hearts, that adulthood is but a brief sojourn, and in the end, we shall all return, to reclaim our glorious Garden, as rightful children, born of heaven.

A Hunger for Hatred

As anticipated, it took a long time for Malaysia to decide on which party or coalition is supposed to form the government after our 15th General Election. There's so much suspicion and hatred between politicians, mirroring the animosity that the ordinary people feel.

Why do we hate? For some, the sight of a person already induces strong dislike. It could be the person's looks, or the way he or she talks. We make our judgements from snippets of news and gossips that we stumble upon on internet or forwarded to us via social media. And then we latch on to them, like religious dogma. Once we find our villain, we turn on our hate towards the person to its maximum. Any minor thing that we find disagreeable about the person, we magnify it 100 times. Any virtue is conveniently ignored.

Hatred makes us feel so strong. It focuses our energies towards a particular object. It makes us feel righteous. Fascist and firebrand religious leaders know how to exploit that feeling. We want real-life to be like the movies where the bad guy always gets his comeuppance. Conspiracy theories are willingly embraced because, these make interesting topics of conversation.  

We are roused by strong feelings. Hatred is easier to kindle than love. But they are two sides of the same coin. These feelings can easily flip too once a threshold has been reached. Every bickering couple had at one time loved each other to bits. Why do they now start throwing plates at each other? 

So much energy is spent by us in hating and loving. If we are not hating certain politicians, we'll find fault with our bosses, colleagues or spouse. If we don't have anyone to love, we can easily find a politician to hate.  And that hatred provides the fuel for our humdrum existence.

If our livelihood is threatened or attacked by someone, fear naturally arises. And then hatred arises out of  that fear. Hatred is simply destructive energy directed towards the source of the threat. It is but a natural outcome of our built-in fight or flight response. 

If we do not run away out of fear, we are then forced to fight to preserve our existence. This is perhaps the 'justified' root of hatred. You cannot tell the citizens of Ukraine not to hate the Russians if they are invading your homeland, destroying your house and killing your loved ones.

But for most people, more likely it is not our physical existence that is threatened but our ego, pride or identity. We are angry if someone insults our religion, because that is a challenge to our belief and identity, which we hold on to dearly. And if this insult is repeated and recurrent, the anger turns into hatred. Hatred towards the enemies of our faith, is a good fuel to rally people together towards a common cause. 

Hatred ultimately destroys everything. It eats away at one's soul. If we have an outlet for energy to be channelled into creative pursuits, there is no room nor time for hatred. Let's ask ourselves if this hunger for hatred is simply a signal of excess energy. Do not look for someone or something to hate. Let's harness it, so that it can be used to create rather than destroy. 

The Catacomb of Echo Chambers

I'm back in my hometown and ready to go to the polls tomorrow. The drive home was painful as the Karak Highway was a bumper-to-bumper crawl. But at least it gave me an opportunity to catch up on my podcasts and audiobooks.

My hometown is nestled in the hills and I always feel a certain clarity of mind every time I'm back here. The silence here is filled with the hum of insects and the merry call of birds. It was here that I had started pondering the mysteries of the world out there, leading to the long journey which finally brought me back here today.

The most important thing I learned during my schooldays in this humble hometown of mine is the scientific method. The way how truth needs to be tested repeatedly--how outward appearances can be deceiving and that empirical evidence has to be respected. Even the readings of scientific instruments need to be be carefully qualified and they have to be checked repeatedly for human errors. 

The human mind is a bias machine. It likes to latch on to easy and convenient 'truths'. We all have our pet theories about the world, especially when it comes to the subject of politics. If only all of us possess the scepticism of scientists, the world will certainly be a better place...but perhaps a duller one. A person with a scientific mindset will find most gossips 'interesting' and nothing more than that. At best it is a hypothesis. And every hypothesis needs to be subjected to tests to prove its veracity.

Will we ever know with 100% certainty about certain 'truths' when it involves matters in politics and economics? The brain apparently is quite inept when it comes to statistics and probabilities. Human instinct is a kind of heuristics honed by evolution when our ancestors were living in small hunter-gatherer communities. 

We probably have a pretty good grasp of how members of our own family think or feel, even members of our clan or tribe, whom we know personally. But in our world today, we live in a large community of strangers. Do we know how the entire population of a country feel? Is it even reasonable to generalise an opinion that way? Is it any surprise that politicians often fail to gauge the mood of the people? 

So we fall back on our natural biases and beliefs. This is not helped by the fact that we also have a natural ability to delude ourselves, preferring to believe things that make us feel good. Anything that supports our biases in social media is applauded and forwarded. Social media is nothing but a network of cults, each amplifying a specific world-view.

We all feel comfortable cocooned in our own bubbles because everything we see or hear reinforces our beliefs.  Instead of binding human together in a living matrix of knowledge and ideas, social media is but a catacomb of echo chambers. And even here in the solitude of my childhood home, I hear them still, those distant howls of hatred and anger, like the lamentations of the damned from some hellish realm.

Fixing Flaws

It's a rainy day today and I had gone downtown earlier using the Park and Ride facility: leaving my car at the Phileo Damansara MRT station carpark and taking a train to Bukit Bintang. After running my errand in town, I returned by train and then drove to Cyberjaya. I'm now happily parked in my apartment, catching my breath while typing these words. 

Another week to go before our national general elections: GE15, as we call it. I'll be driving back to my hometown on the 18th so that I can vote the next day. The campaigning among all the political parties has been heating up over the past week, since nomination day. Lots of mud-slinging and name-calling are going on and social media is busy with people sharing political gossip and conspiracy theories.

We all think we are better than politicians. As I wrote in a previous article, Of Pigs and Politicians, politicians are just a reflection of us. They are just our Monsters from Id. People spew hatred just to boost their own ego. That's just human nature. 

I prefer to see people as flawed creatures. Rarely are people outrightly evil; most of the time it's just fear and selfish interests that are driving them. I try not to hate. Hatred is wasteful as it takes up a lot of mental energy. Why not learn instead of hate?

We all have a vision of what the country should be. Some would like it to be more liberal, others think that religion is more important. Each side is uncomfortable living in a world populated and controlled by the other. So we fight for what we think is a better vision of the future.  We can argue our case and campaign vigorously for our vision to be realised. But we'll still accept the election results even if they do not go our way. In a democracy, the majority rules. But the majority does not always make the right decision nor does it always yield clear results.

Like all systems created by humans, democracy is flawed. But it's the best system we have. So we have to learn to mitigate its flaws. These flaws are ultimately inevitable and unavoidable. We just need to be aware of them and not let them destroy the entire system.

We are also easily swayed by emotions, even though we pride ourselves in our reasoning faculty. Political rallies are all about firing up the crowd, and persuading the masses to follow the leader's interpretation of ideas and events. We certainly vote more with our hearts than our heads.  Very often, what rules our hearts is the emotion of hatred. We hate our perceived enemies so much that we overlook the flaws of our favourite candidates. 

This mental filter that we have in our minds is so efficient that we will subconsciously downplay the negatives of our preferred candidates and amplify those of the opposite side. It's similar to how we tend to ignore the flaws of our partner when we're in a romantic relationship. Once the excitement of courtship is gone, the filter suddenly flips: we become blind to our partner's positives, which we had previously praised to high heaven. All we see now are his or her flaws, because these are the things that irritate us on a daily basis.

 When we see flaws in others, what does that say about us? Does it mean that we do not poses those flaws ourselves? Or do we think that those are areas where we usually hold ourselves to very high standards. Or perhaps they are traits that we hate in ourselves and seeing them manifest in others only remind us of our own inadequacies?

Whatever it is, we are all flawed creatures. Flaws are like fractures in a structure, they can ultimately weaken the system. Let's celebrate our seemingly superhuman ability to identify flaws in others, and turn that microscope around so that it can detect these weaknesses in ourselves too. Does the anger that you project outwards simply a shield to hide your own failings? 

Observe them. Trace these cracks and fissures to their source. Heal them by releasing your anger. Only then do we have hope of fixing the flaws of the entire world.

Cosmicly Curious and Contented

I'm taking a break from work on a Friday night, to blog. Don't we all love Fridays? Monday is far ahead still and all the cares of work can be put aside for the meantime. Everyone is in such a buoyant mood on Friday. What a contrast with the anxiety and glumness of a Monday morning!

That's the weekly cycle of life, which all working people are accustomed to. There's a certain value in having such a rhythm in one's life. The body knows what to expect and everything else is synchronised with it. I've written about the subject of rhythms previously on this blog. In The Natural Rhythm of Human Affairs,  I surmised that everything has a natural frequency, even human affairs.  When you can instinctively feel the ebb and flow of human interactions, you'll have a good sense of timing and whatever you do will turn out better. 

In The Rhythm of the Universe, I quoted Sukarno's famous "Living Dangerously" speech where he talked poetically about about the rhythm of revolutions--how they come and go in waves; at times they will subside, but cease they never will. 

Researching Sukarno's life was my favourite pastime then during my time in Indonesia. I even wrote an article for an expatriate magazine about his life in Bandung when he was a student at ITB. What a great time I had then, visiting all the places of his youth when I was researching for the article!

Even though my enthusiasm about things Indonesian has subsided over the last 2 decades, my core philosophy in life has remained the same. Reading these old blog articles of mine make me realise that my basic beliefs have not changed very much. I have a certain instinctive assumptions about the workings of the universe which I take as my axiomatic principles from which I construct my understanding of people and the world around me. 

Every worldly endeavour of mine is an opportunity to test these axiomatic beliefs. Over the years, I've gained new insights and fine-tuned some of them. And that is the joy of living--being able to gain new insights about life and musing about the inner workings of the universe.

I'm just an amateur armchair philosopher, observing the world with curiosity. But that's what gets me up in the morning, eager to tackle another new day. The world is my laboratory. I wouldn't want to change it in any way. Let politicians and other movers and shakers of the world do that. They are born with the drive and ego to create new waves of revolutions. Whether they will make the world better or worse, I do not know. They will be remembered, worshipped or vilified. 

They will leave behind a name and a legacy, while I, will remain a humble observer, cosmicly curious and contented, like, I imagine, the Star Child of 2001: A Space Odyssey.

The Mecca of Materialism

I'm writing this from the Pavillion Mall, Bukit Bintang. I don't come downtown very often but every time that I do, I inevitably end up in this Mecca of Materialism. The mall is unabashedly bourgeois and represents every possible material temptation that the world offers.  

The Bukit Bintang area itself is full of life at night, thronged by tourists from all over the world who come to enjoy the nightlife, street food and shopping.  Strangely, I actually like this place because I enjoy having a beer in one of the outdoor pubs there and watch people passing by, like a zoologist observing animals in the wild. Only by studying other human beings, do you get a better understanding of yourself because you are also the same animal but are often blind to your own behaviour.

One of the things that I often think about is my own materialistic tendencies. I aspire towards minimalism but yet I am not averse to owning material things. I admire good quality products but not necessarily branded ones, though they often are. I will definitely not buy something simply because it is a status symbol. 

Do I own a lot of branded goods? Not really but I do confess to owning quite a number of Mont Blanc pens, leather products and a watch, all of which I bought more than 20 years ago. I liked their simple elegance and quality. Mont Blanc was kind of my favourite luxury brand at one time but I've since ceased to acquire any new items because I did not want to go overboard. I would prefer to treasure what I already own and enjoy them while they last.

I use my luxury possessions to remind myself of the temptation of things and to meditate on my relationship with them. I believe we can enjoy their beauty but not be a slave to their allure.  Always ask yourself: will you be able to accept the thought of losing them? One must always 'practice' relinquishing one's luxury possessions, the moment one owns them. That way, you maintain a healthy non-attachment towards them, but still be able to enjoy the pleasure of their ownership. 

In a way, it's better to think of yourself as its temporary custodian, rather than owner. Nothing in this world actually belongs to you, even if you've paid a hefty price to purchase it. Matter belongs to the universe and will be reclaimed by it in due time. Your material body too returns to dust when you die. so this attachment between material things is only a transient relationship. Enjoy the dance and the dalliance while it lasts. 

We know that the pleasure of a sip of wine fades away the moment one swallows it. There will be some lingering after-taste but that too eventual goes away. So you take another sip, and another sip, savouring each one as the liquid hits your tongue. The mind gets used to any pleasure pretty fast, and soon it will want to amp up its intensity. That's how addiction develops. 

The beauty of material things should be enjoyed in moderation like sips of wine. Just make sure you don't end up an alcoholic. Possess and let go, acquire and relinquish, but never let them take hold of your soul. Be a master of materialism, not its slave. And that is how you have a healthy relationship with them.  

An Interesting Life

I have my coffee and a good seat in a quiet corner of the cafe and now I'm ready to expound my thoughts for the week. It's election season again and on November 19th, we'll all decide who's going to be our government for the next five years.

Politics as they are being fought over social media nowadays is kind of boring. It's all partisanship hatred of the other side and rumour-mongering. People like to view the world as either black or white. Your side is always right and the others bad, corrupt and incompetent.

The fact of the matter is, most people hardly know what our politicians are like in real life. In all likelihood when you meet them, they are like any other person you know, with strengths and weaknesses. We like to judge people by how the look, talk and behave and whether we could get along with them. We would like people whom, we think we can connect with and share some commonalities,

Many people are driven by an egoistic need to criticise public figures. Making fun of our bungling politicians make us feel superior. So we share memes and conspiracy theories over social media to get laughs and score points. Facts are often exaggerated, half-truths are taken as gospel. It's fun to laugh together with friends whom we assume are in the same team.

It is difficult for us to live in a world which do not have clear heroes and villains. But in real-life, everyone is a shade of grey. Unfortunately recognising the subtleties of these shades makes it difficult to make binary decisions. We have to decide fast in life: yes or no, good or bad. When everything is clearly categorised as such, life becomes simple and efficient. We act with certainty.

But we lose nuance. 

To me, nuances are the stuff of life. Art is basically an attempt to convey nuances. We see a shade of a particular colour: is it purple? burgundy? magenta or perhaps maroon? It is what it is. Labelling it as something is what the mind wants us to do so that they can be neatly categorised for further decision-making. But why not just see things as they are, without labels or conclusions? They are simply...interesting.

Some politician said something 'stupid'. Interesting. This miracle drug is going to be the next big thing. Interesting. There is no future anymore in Malaysia. Very interesting. It's fun to listen and observe everything with interest. An interested mind is always seeking for more context and continuity so that an even larger picture can be formed.

Everything is dynamic and evolving. By treating every observation as 'interesting', we understand that it is a snapshot of something in motion. I'll put it as another jigsaw piece in my mind and I'll stand back to take a look at the larger picture that's forming. Interesting. 

Look at the sea. Some waves are are rising, some subsiding; turbulence is forming here and there they are breaking out into sprays. Everything is fluid, like life. Everyone's personality lies in some continuum; so do not make binary judgement. Instead of judging someone as good or bad, why not say "interesting"?

When you have an interested mind that sees the world as interesting, everything bears interest--like money in your savings account. You are filled with the capacity and eagerness to know more and to get a better picture. No picture is ever final--you are for the continuous growth of knowledge. 

So do not be quick to judge. Just absorb everything and whisper to yourself: interesting. Life is much more interesting that way, don't you think?

At Peace with Pain and Pleasure

I have an hour before midnight to post this blog article, having completed my work for the day.  I have been thinking for the past few days to write something about the purification power of pain but a quick search of my blog shows that it is a topic that has been well-covered before. 

In  A Meditation on Pain, which I wrote in 2003 in Jakarta after the terrorist bombing of the Marriot Hotel there, I ruminated on the pain suffered by the family members of the victims in the blast, including the widow of a taxi driver who was killed in the blast. Is time the only way to heal pain? Time is a slow healer but it will do its job if you'd allow it to. Trust time, for it works incessantly.

In The Purifying Power of Pain, I explained the roots of pain and how many spiritual traditions practice self-mortification as a way of proactively taking pain to induce a sort of spiritual healing of the soul. In The Palette of Pain (2019) and The Penance of Pain written last year, I suggested that since pain is an inescapable part of life, one should choose one's pain wisely. All pleasures are paid with pain. We should always choose the type of pain that we are 'good at'--one's that we are willing to take, which then determines the kind of pleasures that we should go for. It is simply living within your means.

It doesn't mean that we should avoid or become hypersensitive towards pain. Instead by studying the mechanics of pain, one learns to harness its power. Pain transforms you and the world. Every change in the world comes through a process of pain.  No pain, no gain as the cliche goes. In The Pain of Pleasure, I wrote that "pain and pleasure comes bundled together".

It looks like I've thoroughly expounded my philosophy of pain in this blog. There's nothing more that needs to be said. So this article is a kind of review and summary of everything I've come to understand about pain. 

Writing is both a pain and a pleasure. There are days when we stare at a blank page and nothing we write seem to come out right but there are also days when everything sentence seem so effortless. I've learned to just plough on no matter what. We can never stop thinking, it seems. That we can be very sure of. But is the chatter in the mind worth putting into words on the written page?

Cyberspace does not care. It is already filled with so much garbage. We can only spew out words that we think are worth writing about. Once they are out there, the state of the universe would have been changed. You've added some fresh data into the mix, no matter how small they are. Who knows what kind of chaos they could create?

An online persona is a projection of your egoic mind. And when you crave for hits and attention, you should expect to get an equal amount of positive and negative comments. There--you have that perfect setup for an act of penance. But remember, the internet is an amplifier--of both pain and pleasure. Are you ready to take them in such heavy doses?

There is no escaping from the onslaught of pain and pleasure. It is the very essence of living. So take small doses of it every day, that you may build up your inner resilience. And when you do, you'll be finally at peace with both pain and pleasure, as I am now.

The Rotating Phasor of Existence

I'm back. I made it through the week and have a long weekend to look forward to for Monday is a public holiday. Looks like I'm still living the pandemic life, working from home and only going out on weekends to shop for groceries and run errands. 

Everyone has their lives changed in some way by the pandemic. In my case, it was an opportunity to lie low and take stock of things. It was a welcome break in a way. Initially I didn't feel comfortable being cooped up in the house for the whole week but I got used to it. (Perhaps this is how convicts get used to prison life too?). 

I think humans are very adaptable creatures. We can get used to almost anything. The instinct for survival will drive us to re-adjust and reorientate ourselves, like how plants seek sunlight and water. Every moment, a thought emerges in the mind. A thought is like the essence of the moment--the summation of many minute impulses within the body, culminating with a state, a thought, which could trigger a series of other thoughts that lead to physical action.  

Action is what changes the world. Actions are nothing but the gross manifestation of thought, which stems from the wellspring of creation. Every thought is a petal in the blossoming flower of creation, and expression of the universe's desire to manifest.

Examine the qualities of your thought--this continuous stream of energy that emanates from the depths of your being. This stream of consciousness only ceases when you die. Or does it? 

Every electrical engineering student knows that the alternating current can be modelled by a rotating vector or "phasor' in the complex plane. It is a mathematical representation of a sinusoidal wave function using complex numbers with a real and imaginary component. As the vector rotates at a regular frequency around the origin in the complex plane, the current alternates between positive and negative: when it is manifesting its real component, you can measure it; when it falls to zero, it's actually maximising its imaginary component (i or √-1). The current appears to vanish from the real world only to complete a cycle in the imaginary one. 

Perhaps life, death and rebirth is like that? The energy stream does not cease, it simply manifest in another realm before reappearing again. Is the imaginary axis of the complex plane, the proverbial heaven and hell? The life phasor is merely rotating in the complex plane of existence.

I can see such metaphors and analogies between our scientific models and what we usually relegate to the spiritual or occult everywhere. The more I reflect on things, the more of such insights I get. It is what I live for. It is what I try to work out in these blog posts of mine. I see cosmic grandeur in even the most humdrum experiences of life.

At the heart of existence is something simple and beautiful; this rising and falling of thoughts--harmonics within a larger cycle of evolution and involution.  Let's all marvel at the divine phasor, rotating in a magnificent Shaivite dance of creation and destruction.

The Ecstasy of Experience

It's only Thursday night and I'm already typing my blog article for the week. I'm feeling a bit relaxed now because I'm on leave tomorrow. I'll leave all the emails behind for once and relax by writing anything that comes into my mind.

The mind. Everything begins and ends with the mind. Earlier this morning I was watching some video clips shared by a friend who went diving at Pulau Perhentian.  I'm happy that my friend is enjoying life, going diving and golfing all over the world. We all have our ways of deciding what is the proverbial 'good life'.

For some, it is seeing the world--going on tours to exotic locations overseas. For others, it's aiming for that peak experience--skydiving, mountain-climbing, bungee-jumping or simply partying and hobnobbing with the rich and famous. Life is great when you are healthy and wealthy enough to pursue all these things. We only live once and why not enjoy while we can, or forever regret that we missed these opportunities?

Every experience in life begins with a yearning, a desire--a thought in the mind. I should make a trip to Bali, now that the borders are open again. Or I should take flying lessons, so that I can soar in the skies and meditate on life and earth like St Exupery. Won't I enjoy all these things? Why not?

Now what happens when I do get to go to all these places and do all the exciting stuff that people dream of? I end up with experiences and memories that I will cherish for the rest of my life. These experiences, in the end is something that I can only recall back in my mind. Every experience reduces to a moment of sensation in the mind. Every mighty organism is a pattern of firing in the neurons of your brain.

Would the proverbial brain-in-a-vat experience the same happiness if the same pattern of firing is triggered. Who can tell. Is one set of experience more fulfilling and real compared to others? Who knows.

Is the pleasure of diving and experiencing the world underwater more mind-blowing than say, listening to an orchestra performing Symphony No 7 by Beethoven?  You are reading these lines now and perhaps, while reading, experience a moment of realisation. An aha moment. Is this worth less than the ecstatic exhilaration of jumping out of a plane with a parachute?

Do pleasurable experiences make you a better person? Does the feeling of being 'a better person' makes you feel good? Are we also simply looking for a 'pleasurable' experience every time we try to do good and help others? The pleasure of being praised, honoured and looked up to, feels good, doesn't it?

Obviously there are experiences that one would prefer over another. The experience of being stuck in a traffic jam on the road under the hot sun is certainly not something one would pay money for. But if we take the pain or pleasure of the experience out of the equation, are not all experiences 'similar'--something that occurs in the mind?

Is pleasure intrinsic to the experience or something that the minds interprets as such? If pain or pleasure is not something that's intrinsic to the sights and sensations itself, perhaps we can train ourselves to re-interpret each situation, to maximise pleasure? Don't people who practise sado-masochism, are perhaps doing just that, albeit unconsciously.

Reduce every experience to its raw signal. Distill its information. Assimilate them into you system. Rewire your brain. Like AI, every experience improves the model. We can be transformed by any experience, not only the mindblowing ones. Do not let the decibel levels distract you. The quiet moments of reading and writing could be as life-changing as that rare opportunity view the Earth from space as an astronaut. 

Everything in life reduces to an experience, which immediately becomes a memory that fades over time. An experience is only useful if one is present to it and extracts all its value the very instance. Every experience in life is potentially ecstatic. It is how present you are to the experience that makes all the difference.  

Allegory of the Head and the Heart

It's finally Friday evening, and I'm feeling so exhausted, looking forward with relish to a weekend of rest and recreation. Here I am again in front of my computer with a blank page. I'm still undecided: should I be writing a very serious article or should I just ramble and kind of shoot the breeze with my non-existent readers? Perhaps I should go for the latter...

Just yesterday, as I sat in front of the TV, casually channel-surfing, I chanced upon a rerun of The Bounty--the 1984 version, directed by Roger Donaldson, starring Anthony Hopkins and Mel Gibson. This happens to be one of my all-time favourite movies for many reasons. The Vangelis soundtrack was definitely one of them. Because the movie soundtrack was never officially released, the music has remained generally unknown, but I must say it is among Vangelis's best.  

The moment the synthesizer strains of the Bounty theme played, it resonated like an anthem of my youth. I couldn't really believe that I've been watching this movie again and again for the past 4 decades!  And you bet I know every line uttered by every actor in this movie. 

Why am I so obsessed with this now forgotten movie? At a superficial level, it is a grand Hollywood movie with a star-studded cast. It's rarely that you are able to find so many Oscar winners in a single movie. Imagine a cast with names like Laurence Olivier, Anthony Hopkins, Mel Gibson, Daniel Day-Lewis, Liam Neeson and Edward Fox. The only other movie that I know having so many A-list stars is A Bridge Too Far (another one of my favourites). 

Being a period adventure drama based on the true story of the mutiny on the ship Bounty, the action moves swiftly from the stately boardroom of the English Naval office, to the stormy oceans of the Atlantic into the tropical splendour of Tahiti island. It is a grand popcorn-chewing cinematic experience. Why wouldn't anyone like it? But to me, it was something more.

The performances of Anthony Hopkins as the Captain William Bligh of the ill-fated ship Bounty and Mel Gibson as Fletcher Christian as one his officers and personal friend in the crew on board were riveting. The movie showed how their relationship deteriorated from friend to foe, from loyalty to betrayal and their world, from decorum to chaos, from civilisation to savagery. All on an endeavour that was suppose to be a rather boring voyage commissioned by the Royal Navy to the island of Tahiti to bring back the breadfruit plant, which its fruit can be potentially used as cheap rations for the slaves. "A green grocery trip", as described by Fletcher Christian at the beginning of the movie.

Captain Bligh was driven by ambition. As a naval officer who had spent the greater part of his life in the seas, he wanted to take the opportunity in this voyage to circumnavigate the globe, while the younger Christian, was eager for the adventure. And for the young crew, they had heard so many stories of the mysterious island of Tahiti in the South Pacific where "women wore no clothes". Not only were they cavorting around half-naked in grass skirts, they were also very casual in granting favours to visitors. To them Tahiti was paradise in every sense of the word. 

Captain Bligh was a hard disciplinarian and life on the ship for sailors were harsh. The punishment for mutiny was death by hanging. While the captain maintained decorum and distance, the crew was understandably intoxicated by the easy sensuality of the natives. Imagine what it was like when it came for the time to depart from the sunny palm-fringed beaches of Tahiti, into perilous seas towards cold and grey England. Mutiny was inevitable.

It was a classic tussle between the head and the heart:  Bligh was all reason and discipline; Christian, the romantic passions of the heart. Maybe it's this conflict that bears that finds resonance in me. I'm a bit of both and at different moments in my life, one or the other wins the tug of war. 

 I've always been the yuppie who rebelled against corporate conformity. There'd always been a bohemian streak in me that I had difficulty in taming; a hidden impulse to break away from the strictures of middle-class morality. A mutineer, if you will.

Sitting there in front of the TV after dinner on a lazy weekday evening after work, I was transported back to the heady days of my youth, when The Bounty was an allegory of the eternal battle between the head and the heart.

Musings on the Magic Childhood

I'm back in my hometown today--the place where I spent the first 19 years of my life. In one of my early poems written as a teenager, I called my hometown, "the abode of my best memories". But so much of that abode is gone now--the tall rubber trees, the old rambling houses of my neighbourhood and my dear childhood friends, all ravaged by the unforgiving forces of time.

I reflect on the passing of one my childhood friends. We grew up and played together, in the hills and bushes of the neighbourhood--all but a distant memory now. But the unbridled joy, laughter and friendship of childhood days formed so much of who I am today--both good and bad. It is where I return to find my essence and soul.

I feel grateful for the privilege of having a carefree childhood--undisturbed by the noise of modern technology such as television, cellphones and the internet. Those were more quiet days, when we had time for each other; when we really listened and observed the world around us. 

"When mornings brimmed with bustling birds"--as a line in an early poem of mine goes. Now when I walk the streets of my old neighbourhood, I long for those long-gone birds which had made my childhood so magical.

And yes, magic was around every corner. I imagined elves and fairies carousing in their secret jungle sanctuaries and the night-stars above were fortresses of the gods and angels, watching over us, casting their enchanted spells over the affairs of men. 

Ah, the cares of adulthood were so distant from our minds. Did we know that the strange magic of childhood would one day fade away, drowned by the petty concerns of sustenance and procreation? 

Who decides who is to suffer the ignominy disease and untimely death? Did we have an inkling of the hand that fate had dealt us when we were naughty and exuberant kids terrorising the neighbour with our nocturnal pranks? We thought the world was our ally, concealing gifts and treasures in every nook and corner of the forest, ever-delighting us at every turn. 

At some point that veil dropped before our eyes, and we saw the stark cruelty that stands in front of us. The loss of innocence could be too much for us to bear. We end up changed and chastened. 

How different am I from the child I was, who listened to classical music at 10am on FM radio and imagined a forest full of dancing elves? Not very much, I hope. I am back here to rediscover that old magic, kindling a fire that was almost extinguished deep within my soul; and hopefully from within the depths of that despair, something of that child is still alive. 

It has to live in honour and in memory of my departed childhood friends. I carry the spirit of their friendship within--the echoes of childish laughter and visions of innocent faces in the moonlight. And I have faith that this childhood magic shall see me through the years to come. 

The Awakening of Waves

I'm blogging today, on a Friday evening having completed my work for the day and week. The big event today is the sad passing of Queen Elizabeth II, after 70 years on the throne. 

What a long and magnificent life she had led, having had the privilege to see so much of modern history first hand, with 15 British prime minister serving under her reign, from Sir Winston Churchill to Liz Truss, who only replaced Boris Johnson three days ago.

Could any mortal have lived a more illustrious and meaningful life like the late Queen? Family, wealth, fame, power (arguably) and the adulation of millions? She altered the world in her own gentle and subtle ways; she lived a long, happy and comfortable life, enjoying good health until the very end. Could anyone have asked for more out of a mortal existence?

If that is not a good life, as we mortals define it, I don't know what is.  But what does it say about the lives of us ordinary mortals, who lead humdrum existence, unknown and un-feted by the world? Do we need to leave behind a legacy, to be remembered by many for our lives to be considered worthwhile?

I posed many questions which I am now going to meditate upon. When we say, we are honoured and remembered by the world, we mean that our existence leaves behind something that made changes into the life of many. We had an effect. Hitler is remembered but for the wrong reasons. We wouldn't want to lead a life as 'meaningful' as his, would we? 

We have to leave a legacy of positive effect on the world. You and I are descendants of people who must have had suffered hardships, if not recently, at least in the past before. They pulled through, to perpetuate their DNAs, leading to you, which is the latest incarnation of this drive for survival, of life itself. 

But what is so precious about us, as individual egos, that needs perpetuation?

So what if our DNA and our deeds do make a difference on this pale blue dot, floating in the cosmos ocean? Should the ancestors of our gut bacteria feel proud or happy about it? Will we be able to look down from our cloud perch in heaven, and admire the beauty of our handiwork on Earth?

This incarnation of yours, is simply a rising and falling of a wave, in the vastness of the ocean. The actions of every wave, in its own small way, do affect the entire ocean. Or are waves simply the effect of this huge mass of water which we call the ocean?

Whenever we feel pride, we are looking at the ocean from the viewpoint of the wave, who thinks it did its part in the turbulent storm that tossed ships around like plastic toys in a bathtub. When the wave dies, it disappears into the ocean, only to be 'reincarnated' as another wave, based on the distribution of energy in the system. Does the new wave remember its previous deeds? Or perhaps, the wave one day wakes up and find that it is pointless to talk from the small perspective of the wave and that it is part of something much bigger, which is the ocean?

We lead our lives as waves in the ocean. Perhaps one day, we will all awaken and realise that we are the ocean and all the mortal concern of waves are rather laughably petty. Even the ocean itself is but a small part of a larger system--Gaia, our Mother Earth, which is a planetary ego, and a successful one at that, perhaps the celebrity of the solar system.

Let's lead our simple lives as waves first and do our best within the sphere of our existence. But we must  have this realisation that whatever we think of as the pinnacle of human achievement is only meaningful from a very limited viewpoint. Existence itself is much vaster than what we could comprehend with our puny minds. And so we ride along happily, as tiny waves, awaiting its moment of awakening.

The Mechanics of Attachment

I usually blog on Saturday mornings but today I went instead to Amcorp Mall to check out some old books at the indoor flea market there. Chanced upon a rare first edition of a book which caused a lot of controversy when it was published. I don't usually collect vintage books but today I couldn't resist buying it for RM135.00. I thought it was a good bargain because the book is selling for close to USD300 on eBay. 

Driving around the PJ New Town area brought back a lot of memories of the old days when I used to loiter around the area as a student. Later I dropped by at SS2 to collect a fountain pen I had ordered online from Pen Gallery. It's an old Dunhill pen, which I thought would be good for my collection. Tested it just now after inking it with Diamine's Oxblood. It writes beautifully, with just enough wetness and feedback.  The book and the pen made my day.

Books and pens are the only 'luxuries' that I indulge in these days.  If I were to be deprived of these things, I would probably suffer. But these are attachments that I allow myself, as a normal human being, so that I may experience the pain and pleasure of ownership.  

Once you allow yourself to be attached to anything, be prepared for the emotional rollercoaster ride. Becoming the supporter of a soccer team is another kind of 'safe attachment'.

I just watched Liverpool being held to a 0-0 draw at Everton. It was a match that the Reds could have lost and that would have ruined my day. Dropping 2 points from the draw was not pleasant but it wouldn't be as painful as losing the match.  We football fans suffer these ups and downs every week, tracking the fluctuating fortunes of our favourite teams. 

We support a football club so that we may experience extremes of emotions safely. When Liverpool wins a title, the ecstasy that comes with the triumph far surpasses anything that I would normally experience in my humdrum everyday existence. That is why we become football supporters. When we attach ourselves to a team, we gain an opportunity to share the happiness of its triumphs and the despair of its defeats.  And when, our favourite team loses, we comfort ourselves by saying that it's not the end of the world. At the end of the day, it's just a game, involving a team that you had quite arbitrarily attached yourself to.  

I don't live in Liverpool and have never even been there before. I really have no business supporting them. But I do and I have been supporting them since I was a kid, watching their matches on black-and-white TV.  Those were the days, when sports commentators had to help audiences identify the teams through the monochromatic shades of their jerseys. ("Liverpool are in the darker shorts"). And so I partake in the joys and sorrows of their fortunes.

We are all emotion junkies. Being human means being able to feel the whole gamut of emotions.  Being soccer fans give us the license to behave emotionally. You can cheer and jeer madly for the duration of the match, and that's totally acceptable and even expected of you, if you call yourself a fan.  

To live is to be attached to something. It could be books, pens or a football club. Whenever we say we love something or someone, we are actually forming an attachment to the subject. Being attached means you have certain expectations, which might or might not be met.  And that is the cause of all our sorrows. But it is only through the suffering of attachment that we learn how to be eventually free of it.  

The Ultimate Game

Starting this sentence on a blank page, on a Friday afternoon, here in Cyberjaya. What do you do when you are not sure what to write? You just listen to the silence and type out the words that come into your mind.

This week has been monumental for Malaysians. Our former PM Najib Razak has to finally start serving his 12-year jail term after the Federal Court upheld his conviction for graft. Schadenfreude is never my thing, instead it got me into thinking how anyone would be able to cope with life in prison.

I often do these thought experiments myself. How would I fare, if I were to end up in prison? One would think that this is a far-fetch possibility for most people. But our former PM would have thought the same thing 5 years ago when he was in power. So it is a good lesson in humility to put yourself in the shoes of a person who ends up being incarcerated, cut off from the world and living without the usual comforts even the most ordinary citizen enjoys--a cellphone, internet connection and a simple meal at the local mamak restaurant.

It is easy to get accustomed to luxury and comfort. Losing it is a different thing. Always remember that every new comfort that you could afford to acquire, offers both pleasure and pain. The pleasure is obvious--it is what motivated you to want to have it in first place.  The obvious pain is probably the money that you have to pay to buy it.

If you could own a big country house in a quiet gated community, equipped with all the latest amenities, furnished to reflect your taste and personality, wouldn't you have a wonderful life with your family living there? That of course would be the pleasure part. The pain comes into the picture when you have to start worrying about maintenance of the place. Termites want to have a good life too. Nature has to obey the conversation of energy and the Second Law of Thermodynamics. 

You'll need to spend time finding people to fix the plumbing, mend the leaking roof, sweep the floor, remove leaves from the gutter and trim the leafy tree that leans beautifully, providing shade for your favourite garden bench.  

Is it possible for us to lean to 'enjoy' the pain? If you are a DIY person, fixing your house on weekends could a hobby which you could enjoy. That too requires you to pay with time and energy, which should have been spent playing soccer with friends or taking your kids to the theme park.

The best is to have an attitude of gratitude towards whatever that you've been blessed with and understand that they could be yanked away from you at any moment. This will ensure that you are are not too attached to your pleasures. Whatever you own is not yours. All pleasures are given on a lease. You'll have to pay rental for it.

I was so happy living in Jakarta in a small hotel room for 2 years. Some thought that was a bit of a prison cell: how could one live like that? But that room on the seventh floor was heaven to me: I came home every day from work to see my place spick-and-span. I had a bed, a desk, a closet, bathroom and TV. What more could one need in life? 

What price did I have to pay to enjoy that hassle-free life? The simplest of pain: money. Of course my company paid for it, but that was part of my compensation package and could have been given to me too in cash as an allowance. It was money that could have been saved to buy a place of my own.

How simple if every inconvenience in life can be quantified in dollars and cents. But life is never like that. We covet for things that have hidden, intangible costs. They cost us emotional and psychological pain. And that is the price of love and fame. 

Do we shy away from wanting what every normal human being yearns for--love, respect, success and companionship? No. But be clear-eyed about it. Go for what you crave for, because that is your existential purpose of life. You cannot defer the lessons that you have to learn the hard way. It is better to face them with eyes wide open and take every blow on the chin. 

After some time, you'll see how much more efficient it is to learn life's lessons directly by tackling craving itself. To let go of one's cravings is a pain which only the very strong can take.  You'll have to qualify for it first, by taking the knocks and blows of everyday life head-on. But remember, that is the ultimate game.

Thoughts on a Train

I can't believe that I'm writing this on a train - the LRT on my way to KLCC. I have a function to attend in town today and I decided not to drive, taking the opportunity and my day off instead to take a slow leisurely ride on the LRT.

You have to pick the right time to take these trains: that window of time right after the morning rush hour before noon-time, is the best. While I was comfortably seated in the almost empty train, I thought, why not blog? And immediately I downloaded the Blogger app, which I am using now to type these words, with my thumb.

Blogging from my phone is not something that I've done before. It'll be interesting to see how it goes. I find that it's less tiring if you tap with both thumbs. And predictive text helps a great deal too.

The train picked up more passengers and become more crowded as it approached the city centre. I stopped blogging for a while as I did not have the privacy anymore.

I 'm now back at one of my old haunts - the Starbucks on level 3 at KLCC. This was one of the places where I used to occasionally take refuge after my meetings in town, while waiting for the evening traffic to subside. 

I've not been here for at least 3 years; trips to the city are very rare occurrences in my life these days. But I do think back with fondness for those days when we would start our drinking sessions early on Fridays. We believed in working hard and playing hard. Work was an adventure, never a career. Well, I guess I've not changed that much - only the play part is missing nowadays. This is my idea of play now - sitting at the cafe, watching the world go by, allowing random thoughts to come and go, reflecting and examining. 

If I were to describe what I was 20 years ago, I would call myself a bohemian yuppie, which is an oxymoron, of course. And how would I characterize myself now? Well, with another oxymoron: a secular sanyasin. 

The good thing about age is that it puts everything into perspective. Nothing is important enough for you to lose sleep over. All things pass. Age puts you closer to the mountain top where you can see how small the houses, roads and rivers below are, and how insignificant are those ant-like creatures who are preoccupied with the mundane business of everyday life. 

It is liberating to feel that you are not burdened by all the petty concerns of youth anymore. And oxymoronically, the greatest reward of ageing is that, you get a fresh new perspective on life.

The Skill of Ignorance

I'm back at my favourite cafe at a local mall, typing these words. As always, Saturday is the time for me to relax and reflect back on the week that just passed. Over the week, certain subjects will usually catch my fancy and I'll think about them as possible topics for my blog article of the week.

I believe I've written about depression before in passing and toyed with the idea about diving deeper into the subject. But I thought maybe that would be too depressing a subject to dwell on. My blog is already dull and heavy, why subject my non-existent readers to even more torture? 

Perhaps I should just write something more up-beat. Then I thought, why not write about Happiness itself? But then I remembered having written about this many times before. Reading this article I wrote 17 years ago, brings a smile back to my face because I realised that I have not changed that much.  The things that made me feel happy then still apply.

I find it easy to be happy, because I lead a simple life and am easily contented. Perhaps ignorance is bliss and I'm happy to keep it that way. The things that make a man unhappy usually revolves around three areas: relationship, career and money.  Maybe it's because my seemingly indifferent attitude towards all three things that made me less susceptible to unhappiness.

Romantic relationships is something that carry more importance when one is much younger. I still possess the bohemian impulses of youth but I'm way past the stage in life when finding a life partner is the be-all and end-all of existence. I'm not cynical about romantic relationships either and even admire couples who could forge a long lasting and loving bond throughout their lives. Both parties evolve and learn to appreciate each other in a much deeper way, having outgrown the euphoric stage of romantic love. I enjoy the happiness of others, like how I enjoy a beautiful garden which I do not own.

Romantic love is a bit like durians to me. I enjoy eating durians and every time I eat it, I thoroughly enjoy the experience. But I do not crave nor go crazy about this King of Fruits like most Malaysians. I can understand why people lust for it. But I am happy that I have not acquired such an addiction. Is my life any less meaningful because I don't go nuts over durians? Again, I'm ignorant about how much less I'm enjoying life compared to the lucky durian lovers. I wallow in that bliss.

When is comes to career, I'm even more ignorant. Thinking back, I've never consciously looked at whatever job that I was doing as a 'career'. I've never consciously thought of how I could impress my superiors so that I can move up the promotional ladder. This is because I often view success in the corporate world with a bit of wry amusement. This is not to lessen the achievements of anyone who has worked hard and thrived in the corporate world. I salute them for their drive and ability.  

Work to me is like playing a game of football. You play for the enjoyment of the game. I play hard and will even try to score. At the end of the day, even if you win the final with a score of 5-0, it's still just a game.  The thrill and challenge of a project, the camaraderie of friends and colleagues--these are the things that matter more to me. The experience and the friendships forged are the real rewards of a corporate 'career'. 

I've had periods in my life when I had to tighten my belt a little because my finances were low. But because my commitments as a bachelor is a lot less compared to those with a family (or families) to support, I've never exactly been in a dire straits situation before. In any case, I've always tried to reduce my wants to adjust to the changes in my income. I've always considered luxury as a bit of a 'handicap'. I enjoy staying at luxurious 5-star hotels and one could get used to it, demanding the same impeccable service everywhere. But once that becomes a necessity in your life, it becomes a handicap. You can't stay in a budget hotel anymore, thus limiting your choices in life. 

You see, my indifference or ignorance in matters related to relationships, career and money make me less susceptible to unhappiness. This is not to say I'm never down. But every time I do, I know it's caused by another petty matter in one of these areas. Get over it because it's rarely a matter of life or death. The laws of nature work both for and against you: happy states never last forever, and neither do unhappy ones. The amplitude of life fluctuates between a trough of -1 and a crest of +1. Always cultivate the skill of of ignorance to keep the average at zero. It is there that bliss is found.

The Waters of Wealth

Most of us work all our lives to eke out a living. The cave-men of old had to hunt every day to keep themselves alive. Being employed as a white collar worker in a modern company is not as harrowing as having to risk one's life daily just to keep our stomachs full. 

We are first of all, born to survive and procreate. The rest are just details. But these other details are what make us human, and make us want to make the most of our lives. We do not want to just be able to survive, we also want to love and be loved, to accumulate wealth and to achieve a certain standing in society so that we might be respected and looked up to.

These so-called 'details' are where we as citizens of the modern world spend most of our time on. We want  to wear good clothes that reflect our personality and style. We want to drive expensive cars so that we'll not only enjoy the act of driving safely and comfortably but also be able to broadcast our taste and social status to the world. We want to show that we are a 'success' in life and is wealthy enough to live a life of luxury and comfort.

If we can't show off our success to the world, it would feel rather futile. Success and recognition has to come hand-in-hand. If you live on a desert island all on your own, you would not bother so much with appearances, instead your priority will be your health and survival.

So we spend our lives going all out to pursue wealth. Only with money, all of life's many inconveniences can be taken care of. We can afford to turn on the air-conditioning when it's too hot; we can enjoy the best food and wine, buy the latest fancy gadgets and send our children to the best schools. And of course, be able to access the best healthcare services if our fragile bodies fail us.

We want people to acknowledge the fact that we have wealth and that is why we broadcast our good life all over social media. Even better if they are envious of our successful lifestyle. We feel proud. Something within us gets inflated. And it seems to feel good.

Then we ask ourselves, why is that so? Why is there this need to constantly feed the ego? The ego seems to require this nutrient called 'likes' to grow. What happens when it grows to an enormous size? Does it ever get satiated?

We suddenly realise that once we start feeding this ego pet, we can never abandon it. It constantly demands more. Not only does it need our incessant care and attention, we find ourselves strangely dependent on its continued growth and survival too. Losing it would be devastating to us. We might not even be able to survive anymore without its existence.

How did we acquire this strange dependency? We were only doing what every other healthy individual does: simply acquiring wealth and enjoying it. What is wrong with that? I am enjoying life. Part of that enjoyment comes from being acknowledged and admired for our success in doing so.

How stealthily this strange creature creeps on us! Its nourishments are seemingly harmless things: a praise from someone, a heart emoji on Instagram, an envious glance from a stranger. The seeds of ego spring to life suddenly. And one day, we realise that it is even parasitic--its continued growth takes precedence over everything else. Like an invasion of some alien body-snatcher, the ego is now us. Killing it is like striking a mortal blow to our own body.

How do we prevent our lives from being hijacked by this alien life-form called Ego?  Should we avoid seeking praise and publicity? 

Awareness is the first step. When you plan to plant some beautiful flowers in your garden, you have to know how to weed too. It is this constant weeding that keeps our plants healthy. Be grateful that you are praised for your achievements; acknowledge and let them go. That's how you keep your ego in check. 

Share your success with others. Accumulate wealth with the intention of giving them away. Nothing is yours in this universe, because you are just passing by. By giving and helping others, you become a distributor of wealth, rather than a selfish consumer. 

Only by allowing the waters of wealth to flow, does your soul not become a stagnant pool, where ego mosquitoes would breed. So let's go all out to find that wellspring of wealth and once found, let them flow in abundance!                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                      

The World is a Library

Feeling quite relaxed on a Friday night, at the end of an uneventful work week. I've been doing a lot of journalling, writing with my collection of fountain pens. Last week I wrote about trains of thoughts that could lead to a wreck, if unchecked. Writing, especially journalling, exposes these thoughts and gives you an opportunity to see them objectively.

All actions stem from thoughts. I've mentioned before that actions are nothing more than the gross manifestation of thoughts. Actions lead to more thoughts which lead to more actions in a chain of action and reaction. 

My blog reveals a lot of my thoughts and my way of thinking. It occurred to me the other day that the books we own are also a reflection of our thoughts. Every book that I possess is a particular subject matter that I have thought about or is interested in. A book is a conversation with its author; every printed sentence that I've read had manifested itself as a thought in my brain.  

In my library, I also have a lot of books which I bought for reference, and many more which I intend to read at some point in the future. But every book, even unread ones are living thoughts in my mind: some represent ideas, which had been strengthened or refuted by the many authors whom I had consulted; others represent intentions to explore further. 

So is it any surprise that I own so many books in my library? If you enter my apartment and look at all the shelves of books, you are virtually walking into my brain. These books in my personal library are the physical manifestation of my thoughts and interests. It is the original metaverse of ideas.

Owning a library of books, in a way is to enable one to 'think' physically.  It is my random access memory: pulling out a book from the shelves is to access a piece of information or idea; flipping though its pages and reading a sentence her and there is an act of interrogation, of examination of a certain subject matter. And if it is a work of fiction, an evocation of a feeling, like a memory of past events.

Which is why I am reluctant to just go with e-books, which would solve a lot of my space problems. Books are not just storage of contents, they are physical levers for moving the thinking dials in my head. You are able to hold a bundle of ideas in your hand and the tactile engagement that comes with reading a physical book, squeezes out the juice from your grey matter.

Thinking does not have to be a purely mental affair. You can walk with a book, caress its pages and see ideas interplay and interact on paper with your eyes. You embrace the ideas expressed with the totality of your body and mind. 

When I invite someone to peruse my library of books, I am allowing someone to look into my brain and see all the activities that are happening there. Nothing could be more intimate than that. 

I am happy to be surrounded by books: there are everywhere--on my bed as my sleeping companions, under my bed in boxes to protect them from the dust and sun, and here on my desk, there in tall stacks on the floor. Have I read them all? No, of course not. They are my thoughts, my desires, my intentions. Those I've read are now part of my existence, inhabiting both my physical and mental spaces.

I wrote an article more than a decade ago, how people are so interesting because they are like interactive books. Life is beautiful and exciting because the world itself is a vast living library. And no, I haven't read all the books out there. But you can bet, I'll never stop perusing its shelves. 

The Train Wreck of Thoughts

It's a hot day today but I'm feeling very relaxed here in Cyberjaya because I'm on leave again. I take leave to spend time here every other week. There are chores to do and bills to pay.  There are on-going trains of thoughts that need to slowed down before they derail.

Our thoughts have a tendency to race blindly like runaway trains. Once they are started, they are kind of unstoppable. The anger, the hatred, the anxiety and the fear--these are dangerous trains indeed. And if they continue to run like that, disaster awaits.

That is why, it is always wise to stop every now and then to take stock of things. Meditation is my way of doing a daily recalibration of the mind. Days off like this is my time to stop the engine completely for some maintenance. And blogging is my way of doing diagnostics.

Thoughts, irrespective of content, are just patterns of energy. Watch the sea. Can its surface ever be still? Certainly not, because the movement of the earth, the gravitational pull of the sun constantly churn the body of waters on the planet, causing these ceaseless tides. 

Is it any wonder that our minds are never still then? We are buffeted by people's actions and events--karmic energies that knock us about. We act and react causing ripples of effects and counter-effects. We are just the local perturbation of this vast karmic field of energy.

Understanding this and seeing this every moment in time is liberation itself. It is very difficult to separate our consciousness from its contents. Content is but an interpretation of a pattern of energy. You can look at a computer screen and choose to see pixels emitting photons of different energy levels or you can choose to see faces and people talking, car chases, bomb explosions or a medieval sword-fight. But they are all just blinking pixels, no different from decorative lights that you drape around your Christmas tree. 

Why can't we see all events as nothing more than patterns of energy? What's the advantage of having such an ability?

To be free from suffering is our primary goal. If we do not identify with these energy configurations, we do not partake in its effects--its pains and its pleasures. We call that insight. This do come about on rare occasions when we have a moment of epiphany. We simply see things as they are, without judgement or interpretation. How we live for such moments. 

The thing is, these moments of insights shouldn't be such rare events. Life can be a constant a stream of epiphanies. That will be an exalted state of grace. And I'll choose that anytime over being a train-wreck of thoughts. 

The Chauffeur of the Universe

Today I'm writing this from a cafe a Nu Sentral. Took a train here at noon to replace my Touch N Go card at their customer service centre. Happy to have got that done. Now I'm just relaxing here with some coffee and a small bite.

I've always enjoyed taking the train. You get to walk and stand a lot, which is good exercise. The only time when it gets uncomfortable is when the trains are fully packed, usually during rush hours. If you are able to avoid that, then it is always a pleasant experience.

If I have any goals in life at all, it is to live without a car. I had no problems doing so when I was working in Singapore and Jakarta. Obviously, being carless in Singapore was easy because of their good public transportation system, but Jakarta was also easy to get around because there's an abundance of cheap but good taxis, three-wheelers and ojeks. Nowadays the e-hailing Gojek service makes it even more convenient.

I've always found it a hassle owning a car. But unfortunately you can't do without one if you're working in KL. Car is also a status symbol. This is something that I find very amusing. Why do people spend so much money on expensive cars and have to fork out an enormous amount of time, money and energy maintaining them? Every tiny speck of dirt has to be washed off; the chrome and body polished to a shiny perfection and every minuscule scratch attended to as if it is a harmful injury to one's own body.

The car, unfortunately forms part of one's public image. Some people deliberately use it to portray an image of success, even though this comes at a heavy price--hefty loan payments every month amounting to a big portion of their salaries. But to them, it is worth it. What's life without some luxury and style? Isn't image everything? Doesn't it feel good to be looked up to based on one's appearance of success?

The sight of luxury cars stuck in a traffic jam is a bit comical to me: they look like rows of people in their fancy dinner party outfits, sweating under the hot sun. It also doesn't surprise me why road rages happen so frequently. Underlying all such incidences are two psychological factors: one, the car is the outward manifestation of a person's ego; two: everyone's mind is focussed on their intended destination, not the here and now.

Let me elaborate. If you cut into my lane, you are showing me great disrespect--you are not acknowledging me and my status. It doesn't help that, most cars, in their attempt to look cool and sleek, projects a scowling and unfriendly appearance. There is no such thing as a friendly-looking car. Every car screams: "get out of my way". God forbid if they ever touch. If you see a crowd of people rushing to get into a train, it is normal for people to bump against each other. But why do the rules change when we are driving cars on the road?

This brings me to my next point: cars are not designed correctly. They should be engineered to take knocks and bumps all the time--maybe a bit like bumper cars we see in amusement parks. But instead what we see is a prissy parade of steel dandies in the streets. Woe to anyone who step on the hem of my silk garment!

Furthermore, driving is never an end in itself: we want to be at our destination as fast as possible. Is it any wonder that we get so mad whenever we encounter anything that slows us down? We want to be elsewhere, not here! Get out of my way!  

My advise is: leave pride at home every time you drive. Your ego is too heavy a luggage to carry in your car. And treat every drive as if it is a leisurely walk in the park. That way, you won't be so offended if anyone puts a dent on your car or obstructs your path.  There'll be less rage in the world if we do not always think we are the one in the driving seat. The universe has its own all-knowing chauffeur.

The Andante Garden

I'm finally parked at Starbucks with my usual Americano after doing some shopping at the mall. Feeling a bit exhausted actually, after walking up and down a few escalators that were not work. 

Walking is great exercise, and I try to do that whenever I could. I do not mind parking my car further away from my intended destination so that it gives me an opportunity to walk. I can't understand why people are so averse to doing that. Why pay for a gym membership when you can incorporate exercise into your everyday life?

Isn't life great when you do not have to hurry? There's an optimum pace to living which allows one to fully absorb each experience as they come along; you tend to miss a lot of the nuances and details if you rush through things. Slow down. Andante ("at a walking pace"): that's the tempo to lead life.

The mind needs the time and space to absorb and digest each new experience. Which is why I always prefer travelling alone. You don't get distracted by conversations with friends and you tend to notice your surroundings a lot more. 

Writing too has an optimum speed. When you slow down thinking and writing to a speed that is comfortable, ideas begin to germinate. The universe doesn't like to be rushed. Things happen when they happen in their own time. Allow them to reveal themselves, like flowers unfurling their petals.

If you read a passage of text and fail to understand it, just slow down. Read one sentence. Let it seep into you mind, like chocolate melting in your mouth. Only then do you grasp its cadence and imagery. Food always tastes better when someone asked you take a small bite. That is because your mind is fully focussed on sampling all the tiny little flavours released by that small portion. 

This sip of coffee that is lingering in my mouth now, these tiny little characters that I deposit on the computer screen, they are part of an unfoldment that is my life, my karma.  And when I put my full attention to them, they are lived, they are examined, they are enjoyed.

Never rush through life. Always remind yourself, like how a stern piano teacher would an over-eager student rushing through a minuet piece: Andante! Andante! For life is a beautifiul garden, best enjoyed at a slow walking pace.

The Gym that Pays You to Exercise

I had my breakfast here at the cafe and after taking a brief stroll in the mall, I'm back at the cafe to write my weekly blog article. It's the end of the month and another quarter has ended and it's time for me to reflect a bit on what I've been doing these past 2 pandemic years.

Initially, I thought the pandemic was a good opportunity to take a break. A time for me, to recharge and perhaps re-skill myself. But a chance recommendation from a friend led me to my current job which I've held for almost 2 years now. 

It's a low-key, low-profile, work-from-home engagement which I had planned to commit to for at most a year. But as always, time flew and I got swept by its currents; I made friends at work, and after a while, it felt like I'm just helping and supporting friends everyday, which strangely, made it rewarding.

It is also liberating doing a job that is not a career. I'm just happy to get a regular pay-check without having to worry about invoicing and chasing for payments as in the past. My years of work experience stand in good stead when it comes to dealing with people. And I find that humour always helps.

I always try to see the lighter side of things. Everything related to work is ultimately "not important". You can always have a good laugh about it. Not taking things serious doesn't mean you are slack. Every company aims to maximise shareholder value as its goal--in other words, to make more money. Unless you are working in a hospital ER, most of the time, what you do is not a matter of life and death. 

It is my habit to work hard and to give 110% in everything I do. But as I've touched upon in past articles before, having a job is like having membership to a gym: you get to use its facilities to get yourself a good workout. The workout benefits you first and foremost. Every interaction, every meeting, every presentation session that you have is an exercise that improves your moral and mental fitness. Over time, you are the one who benefits. You can even look at your employer as a gym that pays you membership for working out everyday!

Work becomes stressful only when ego comes into play. This happens when you try to compete with your co-workers to gain the recognition of your boss, so that you might advance in your career. You will alway encounter difficult people at work. But one must understand that everyone comes from a different background, perspective and level of spiritual development. Everyone is grappling with the demon of their ego. Some kindness and understanding goes a long way.

When you can joke and make someone laugh,  you immediately breaks all barriers of distrust and suspicion.  Working without expecting anything in return is the best policy. You do that by learning to immediately forget about your accomplished task, for you have already reaped its rewards, by exercising that opportunity to serve. 

One does not need to volunteer to work in a homeless shelter or donate to the Red Cross to gain spiritual merits. Everyday human interactions already provide one with ample opportunities to be kind and helpful to society. As Ram Dass puts it so beautifully: we are simply walking each other home. 

Everyone is struggling in their own little way. The high-earners have to keep up with people at their level: always being conscious of the clothes they wear, the car they drive and the place they live in. Do not envy them--they are just working out on a different set of exercise machines, which if they are not careful, could even cause injuries.  

If you have a tyrannical boss, who makes life difficult for you, ask yourself: what riles you up the most? And why does it make you so? What is the egoist stance that you are trying maintain, which is causing you the pain? If you do not care about your image, does the pain go away?  But if you think that your stance or opinion is right, by all means, fight for it. What's the worse that could happen? Will anyone die?

Change gyms if you must. But in the end, you don't quit your fitness program because of one faulty piece of equipment. We are all exercising each other and when done with the right attitude, it can be mutually beneficial.