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. 

The Pleasure of Spandrels

I'm taking a break today from work, as always on a Friday, so that I can do some house chores and maybe later today, catch up with friends. I haven't given much thought about the topic that I'm going to blog today but let's just play as we go along.

I was writing about 'meaning' last week and I explored the possibility that the need for meaning is a kind of an 'unintended' consequence of having intelligence. Biologists and philosopher's call that spandrel - a term which originated from architecture referring to the triangular space between the top of an arch and the rectangular structure that frames it. 

If you design a door with an arch--which is the real intent of the architect--you will end up with some space just above the pair of archs where it meets the horizontal structure above. Usually this space, the spandrel, is filled with ornamentations. This is simply a side-effect of having an arch for the architect did not start off designing these decorative spaces purely as works of art, and then later thought maybe they should have an arch as the doorway.

The term spandrel was borrowed as an analogy in evolutionary biology by Stephen Jay Gould when he speculated that perhaps there were some biological features that were the by-product of evolution. The human chin for instance, has no specific function, but because our jaws have evolved over aeons to adapt to the kind of food we eat, the shape of its bones produced something which we call a chin, which had no particular evolutionary use. But the 'useless' chin was somehow adapted later, as it often happens in evolution, for sexual selection. People with 'sexier' chins,  produce more offsprings.

The brain is evolved as an information processing centre for an organism to make logical decisions about whether an environment is safe. It decides how to response to external stimuli--is the object in front of me my lunch or am I lunch. As the brain evolves in complexity, certain spandrel properties arise. The act of dreaming while we are asleep, which seems to serve no purpose, could be one of them. Perhaps all the fruits of human civilisation, like art and music, are 'useless' spandrels?

 If the river has a brain, perhaps it will ask the question: why do I seek the sea? 

Perhaps, like its architectural equivalent, it is the spandrels that make life beautiful. What would life be without speculative philosophising, dreaming and creating great works of art? Perhaps spandrels are what make us human, as we know it.

This blog itself is like a spandrel, sprouting up in the interstices of cyberspace, the pseudo-scholarly graffiti of an idle mind. But what great pleasure it is to be able to fill up these space-time spandrels. Life will be so much less meaningful without them.

 

The Meaning of Meaning

Today, I'm writing this from the Komugi Cafe, where I'm parked for at least the next hour to write this weekly blog article of mine. My laptop is partially charged and I'm relying solely on its battery and the internet connection from my phone. Now comes the question: what am I supposed to write today?

I've been thinking about about a subject that's so laughably corny and trite for the past few days: "What is the meaning of life?".  But I'm not going to bore everyone by writing about that. Instead I'm going to go a step further: What do we mean by "meaning"? 

Let's start with a dictionary explanation of the word "meaning": ...the end, purpose or significance of something.  That is a good start because whenever someone asks "what is the meaning of life?", there's a certain sense of hopelessness and futility behind it--the underlying statement is that, life appears to have no purpose. We struggle so hard to survive, only to die of sickness or old age. What is the point of all this? Why be born at all? Where are we heading? What happens after death? Is this all there is? Why am I here?

Usually whenever such a question arises, I would like to throw up another question: If I give you a definitive statement like "the meaning of life is X", where X could be something like, "to go to heaven", "to fulfil the evolutionary purpose of life","to find God", "to leave a legacy", "to love or be loved", "to be useful to my family, community and mankind","to achieve Enlightenment" or simply "to enjoy and be happy". Would that answer satisfy you? If not why?

If one of the above answers is good enough for you, will you stop at that? So what if you achieved Enlightenment or left a legacy or is assured of a place in heaven? Which is why I think the more fundamental question is: why do we seek meaning at all in anything we do? What constitutes something that is "meaningful"?

Is enjoying a happy family life, with a successful career and having someone to carry on your legacy and inheritance something "meaningful"? And having that "meaning" gives you an enormous sense of satisfaction? Is "meaning" just simply a statement that gives you acceptance and pleasure, because you think that is already in your grasp or within your mortal comprehension. Is it simply a goal that you can understand and pursue? 

If it is, then that's simple. Just define your meaning and be happy about it. Which is a bit of an existentialist attitude towards life: you are born and your meaning is defined by your actions. There is no pre-defined purpose or essence. "God is dead", as Sartre famously claimed. Meaning is not written in some divine book, revealed by God. Meaning is not some New Age-y pursuit like "participating in the evolution of life in the universe". Meaning is what you define your life to be. It is a purpose, a call for action and need not necessarily be a "happy" life in the conventional sense. Because your call could be "to fight and die defending your country". 

Which also begs the question: why must we have meaning in life? Why can't we just seek pleasure and pro-create like animals? Isn't the life of an animal "meaningful"? Then we realise the need for meaning arises because we have a certain "intelligence". We have already eaten the apple from the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil. We are cursed with a propensity for asking questions and seeking answers to everything. 

So if the need for meaning is a natural consequence from being an intelligent creature, we have to ask ourselves: does it serve any purpose? Is the need for meaning simply a natural consequence of following the causal logic of natural phenomena where everything has a cause and effect. We are simply seeking the next link in the chain of causality--if I am here living my life, what does it lead to? Is it simply a quirk of our logical mind, to seek meaning? All rivers flow to the sea. We can even go further and say that the meaning of a river's existence is to seek the sea. 

Are we all just like rivers, obeying the laws of nature and the question of meaning arises because simply because that's how we always think: everything must have a purpose and therefore meaning. What if that's not always true? Are we willing to accept that fact that the purpose of life is to live and die? Forget about meaning, because that's like asking if the shape of the waves on the ocean has any 'meaning'. It is what it is.

So am I going to just cop out and declare that asking for the meaning of life is a pointless question? Certainly not! Because there's a practical need for for meaning: it satisfies us in some strange way. It puts us at ease if we know that there's meaning in whatever we do. 

But we are all limited, in some way, by our intelligence. An alien being of advanced intelligence might think our conception of 'meaning', naive. So each one of us have a different criterion for what constitutes meaning. And as we mature, we will seek for 'deeper' meanings. X will change with time.  Some will find it in religion, other's in other pursuits that provide one with a sense of purpose. Meaning is simply instrumental. It helps it us to navigate through life. Having no meaning in life leads one to despair and even suicide.

So seek your meaning in life, whatever that means. To me, it is the constant examination of the nature of our existence: Why do we seek meaning? What is meaning? The meaning of life is to seek the meaning of life. Ah, we've visited this territory before: it's simply the Examined Life.  

The Music of the Mind

I spent the morning cleaning my apartment, especially the balcony where birds have been conveniently using it as their outhouse. The physical work was much welcome after the whole week of work in front of a computer screen. My man-cave needs a bit of maintenance after having survived multiple roof leakages which ruined some of my books. Will have to slowly engage the right people to fix them.

I admire people who are able to do all their household maintenance on their own. Handling drills and wrenches is not really my forte and not exactly on my list of priorities. Neither is cooking--but, this is one area which I think I might explore further as I grow older. 

Not that I am very interested in the culinary arts--it's just that I find that I have an intuitive understanding how different flavours and ingredients blend together. They are like musical notes--some combination of notes blend together to form a chord. As I grow older, I am beginning to 'hear' the harmonies of these flavours clearly.  

All the senses--sight, sound, smell, taste and touch impinges on the mind in the same way. They all have different tonal shades, which the artist use as his medium of expression. When we produce a work of art, we are expressing a combination of thoughts and feelings in space and time.

We experience life as we know it through our senses. I enjoy movies as a blend of images and sound, which are woven together by a storyline or plot that serves as a structure for composition. Some say that all stories are variations of a few basic themes--the Hero's Journey is one of them. But to me the story is the least important part of a movie--it's the masterful use of sound and images that I'm interested in. Which is why I admire Blade Runner so much and many other works by the director Ridley Scott. 

Every word has colour and tone. A writer chooses from a palette of words to best express his ideas and feelings. There's rhythm, there's harmony and there are themes and counterpoint. When we are in tune with the writing of the author, we resonate. And in the act of resonance, new melodies and spun off in the mind of the reader. We call that 'thought-provoking'. 

Thoughts are melodies. They arise because the background harmonies demand them. A melody sits on top of a chord progression like a butterfly flitting from flower to flower.  Thoughts arise as inevitably as the melodic line expressed by a saxaphone player in a jam session. There's a constant progression of chords happening in the mind through the movement of karma. 

When the melody of thoughts arises, action follows like how we instinctively dance to music. To meditate is to listen to the music of the mind. And that is the wellspring of all art.

 

The Sacred Paths of Life

For the past month or so, the world has been lapping up all the sordid details in the turbulent relationship between Johnny Depp and Amber Heard revealed in their trial. I haven't been following the trial online but from what I've read, neither party came off smelling like roses. As they were married at on point in their lives, they must have loved each other very much for them to have made that leap. How in the world could a relationship that had started with mutual love deteriorated so badly until it became an abusive one? 

Being a confirmed bachelor, I'm not qualified to comment about marriage.  And even though I've been in long-term relationships before, I don't proclaim to be an expert on the matter. But what I want to do is to reflect on the nature of relationships and marriage.

People often ask me why I don't get married. That question presupposes that one could get hitched if one simply chooses to, like going to the supermarket to pick up some oranges. I know of people who had tried hard to look for a life partner but by some stroke of bad luck, did not get to meet the right one, or they invested their time and energy on the wrong one. No one is divinely ordained to meet their soul-mate whom they can live happily every after with.

In my case, that wasn't the case either. I have had opportunities to pursue relationships which could have led to marriage, if I had remained on course. But I've always chosen not to, because I learned along the way how difficult it could be and the kind of effort and energy that is required to make it work.

Now, why should one be deterred by that? Isn't the end-goal worth all the pain and hardship? And isn't it a bit pessimistic to look upon marriage as a kind of difficult 'project' that one does a careful cost-benefit analysis before taking the plunge? Isn't a marital union between two souls who love and support each other the most beautiful thing in the world? Even though it is not easy, but wouldn't the task of building a life and family together be a worthwhile journey? To have someone who cares for you, to have a home to go back to, to have children who will love and care for you in old age and to leave behind your lineage and legacy? Isn't that what one would call a happy, meaningful and fruitful life?

Unfortunately the answer to all the questions in the previous paragraph for me is an emphatic 'No'.  I do respect the institution of marriage and admire people who have genuinely found happiness in it. I've written in an old blog post of mine that a happy family is like a garden filled with beautiful flowers. It takes a lot of effort to tend to it but once it materialises it is a thing of beauty and and endless source of pride and joy. 

I admire other people's gardens and partake in their joy, but I have no desire to become a gardener myself. I am more of a connoisseur of horticulture. There's happiness in that too. One sees the variety of plants and appreciates the challenge required to nurture and grow them in different kinds of soil and climate. By not being a gardener myself, I have the resources to study the variety of gardens and techniques of gardening themselves in greater breadth and depth. And that gives me a greater understanding of people and nature themselves, which is what I derive enormous pleasure in.

But isn't it human nature to want to pair up with someone and procreate? That's life and why not plunge into the celebration of a process that makes us all humans? But isn't it also in our nature too to seek our own purpose of existence and pursue that which we think would give each one of us meaning? 

That's all I'm doing. I wouldn't be honest with myself if I attempt to convince myself that the path of the householder is one which I find true meaning and happiness. I have chosen a path, which I sometimes jokingly refer to as that of a secular sanyasin. I am not a monk nor a householder--just someone who finds life an opportunity to learn and gain insight into what makes us who we are.

Of what use is such a person? No better or no worse than the average person who starts a family and imposes his or her idea of what a family should be on its members. It is simply living the examined life, of which the family man too in an indirect way is attempting to do.

Marriage is a commitment which comes with its attendant pains and pleasures. And if pursued wisely it is as good as any spiritual path the the religious renunciate claims to have found their true calling in.  One simply chooses a path that is most honest to oneself. Both paths are equally sacred, and each has its own unique lessons, tailored for the souls who chose them. And by following it truthfully, we will all meet at the same destination.

Transducer of Thoughts

In 2003, I wrote a blog article entitled Seismography of the Mind. Today, I wish to elaborate further on the subject which I merely mentioned casually in passing while I was back in KL briefly before rushing back to Jakarta.

Perhaps what strikes me most about an article written almost 20 years ago is that how much of what I believe in now had already taken root in my mind then. I've always kept a handwritten journal and thoroughly enjoy the physical act of writing in longhand. I can easily discern my mood from my handwriting and to see thoughts materialising slowly in black wet squiggles on the crisp white page is like magic.

People who write journals are likely to be lovers of fountain pens and I have a collection of them, ranging from Parker, Mont Blanc, Cross, Waterman, Pelikan to lesser known ones (at least to people who are not familiar with fountain pens) like Benu, TWSBI and Kaweco. Writing in my journal is also an excuse to put these fountain pens of mine to good use. Furthermore I could choose from my wide selection of inks, which is one of the joys of fountain pen usage. 

It's true that fountain pens are messy and inconvenient. A ballpoint or rollerball pen does the job equally well without any of the hassle. Fountain pens require maintenance--you'll have to flush it in water and clean it thoroughly before filling it with another ink and often nibs don't perform that consistently. And if one accidentally drops it, it could be be ruined. Sometimes the ink doesn't flow so well, causing scratchiness or hard starts. Pens are like pets, with their peculiar mood and character, which is also what makes them endearing.

Of course, we all like to quote the cliche that the pen is mightier than the sword. There's no denying that the written word has a power that surpass that of any weapon that man has ever wielded. Nothing is more power than a thought whose time has come. Which brings me to my original intent of this article--that the pen acts like a transducer of thoughts.

What are thoughts anyway? Thoughts are like vibrations of the mind. The meditator observes these vibrations and watch them rise and subside, But why do they arise in first place? It's nothing but the energy of your karma.

Now as always, I'm veering into the esoteric. But hold your judgemental thought--which as you can see is triggered by what I just wrote: One signal arising from my mind inducing another in yours. A thought once introduced into the world, has its karmic effect. You cannot undo what you have read easily. You might forget it after a while, but its potency has already taken effect. Like a virus, it has already crept into your being, infusing every future thought you have with its echoes and residual effect.

The pen, especially the fountain variety, is a precision instrument that captures thoughts. A written sentence is a signal extracted from the noisy turbulence of the citta. A handwritten sentence captures not only the raw signal of the thought but also its attendant qualities in the shape and shade of one's ink-strokes. One's mood and character are captured together with the idea on the handwritten page.

Thoughts are occurring all the time in one's head. Just that most of the time, there's nothing of significance that one should put to the page. How does one separate the wheat from the chaff? By observing thoughts carefully, and capturing the signal from the noise. And what better instrument to do that than to use a fountain pen? It acts like a the stylus of a turntable in reverse, instead of transducing the the.tiny bumps on the record groove into electrical signals and sound, it picks up the signals of the mind and etches them into the page, in the form of ink marks.

Holding a fountain pen in one's hand, poised over a piece of paper, is the most magical pose of all: it is the act of creation itself. Something from the immaterial world of thoughts is about to born into the world. The writer is at once a midwife and a craftsman--ushering ideas into existence through a careful selection of words. What a privilege and joy it is to write with a fountain pen--the ultimate transducer of thoughts!

 

The Story of Our Lives

A blank page begs for a good story. And here I am, in my apartment in Cyberjaya, trying to spin a yarn that hopefully could touch the reader both intellectually and emotionally.

Let's begin with the mind's yearning for stories. Why do we like them so much? Why do we listen to the storytellers of old, believe the myths passed down by our forefathers and worship writers and actors who bring these tales to life?

Let me put forth a thesis: the mind only understands and remembers stories. Stories are the mind's natural unit of storage--every story is like a file, if you will. We will always forget facts but remember stories. Stories tie facts together into a coherent whole. Facts woven neatly into a dramatic story will be remembered forever, because our memories are engineered by nature to store stories.

No wonder, one of the more popular mnemonic devices when it comes to remembering a list of things is to weave them into a story--the more fantastic the better. If only our teachers know how our minds work better, they would become much better educators. Students will never be forced to remember dry formulae in maths or important dates in history; by giving every formula a history context and every date an emotional significance these subjects will not be so dull.

Stories have a natural sequence of events and an emotional arc. No single event or fact stands in isolation. The mind recognises a pattern. There's tension and release, which generates emotion. That is also why we all like music--music plays with our mind's natural inclination for expectation (a fifth) and satisfaction (the tonic key). Whenever these patterns of ups and downs, tension and release harmonises with the the 'natural frequencies' of our soul, we find resonance.  We feel the 'vibe'.

Reason always have to be fused with emotions for anything to take root within our psyche. Stories, and in their larger context, myths do exactly that. Reason alone provides direction and logical sequence but it has no energy--it is static; emotion has energy but no direction--it is blind. The storyteller cleverly fuses the Apollonian and the Dionysian streaks in all of us, to create enduring myths.

All great accomplishments, all great nations and tribes, all religions require myths as their foundation.  Nothing endures without the binding power of myths. Nothing moves without the propulsion of belief, which is the mind's faith in the unfoldment of a good story, rushing headlong to its inevitable conclusion. Emotions, underpinned by reason, drives an army to war and a suicide bomber to martyrdom.

Stories and myths inevitably idealise things. We forgive the writers of historical dramas for exercising poetic license. Events are rearranged, dialogues invented for greater dramatic effect. They tug and play with our emotions, appealing to our sense of right and wrong and our natural inclination for justice, which requires heroes and villains.  If we recognise that is how our minds work, we can use the device of stories better to help us remember and organise facts, provided that we are careful in separating fact from fiction.

A person's life is itself a story--one that has a clear beginning and end. When a person's belief resonates with a larger cause--a nationalistic or religious myth--it becomes a current in a larger wave. A 'meaningful' life is nothing but a story that conforms to some archetypal myth. What's your story?

Prisoners of God

I'm relaxing at home in my bedroom-cum-office on a lazy Saturday morning, typing these lines and trying to figure out the blog topic for this week. I've been thinking a lot about religious people lately because as always, in Malaysia, religious sensitivity becomes an issue.

Why is religion so important to people? Let me discuss the pros and cons of both monotheistic and polytheistic religions. The belief in one God is, at least to the believer, is 'superior' to the worship or many gods or deities. Monotheists often look down on those 'superstitious' idol worshipers, who prostate before man-made statues made of stone or clay. What kind of ignorant fool would worship such objects and attribute special powers to them? Apparently, the same type of people who worship an invisible God, one which one has no proof of.

Arrogance, intellectual vanity and egoistic behaviour are natural tendencies of humans. We always want to acknowledge ourselves as smarter than others--often boasting about our own successes, vilifying people whom we look down on, criticising people in power for being stupid and incompetent. There may be some truth to some of these criticism, but an underlying motive behind such attacks is often the ego that seeks attention and praise.

By acknowledging that there's a superior God or gods, one at least puts a limit to selfish egoism. You surrender and worship a higher power who controls your fate. You obey Him and ascribe all sorts of superlative qualities to the Being--the most merciful, the unknowable, the fount of wisdom. Who are we mortals in the face of His Presence? We kowtow before the Lord, whose wrath we fear should we transgress from His Laws.

A God-fearing man, is a humble man, a moral, law-abiding person, who keeps his selfish wants in check, who tries hard to be a useful and helpful person in his community. What could be wrong in this? Nothing, as long as one understands the architectural principles behind the monotheistic model and its limits.

A polytheist believer has a slightly different architectural model--it's like a distributed system where you have many servers providing services everywhere versus a monolithic one. Polytheism is actually quite sophisticated but unfortunately its believers have a tendency to be superficial treating the deity whom they worship as the local gangster or Godfather whose protection they seek. Polytheism allows different individuals with different archetypal tendencies to worship a personal deity that resonates with the individual's nature, helping him to cultivate his strengths.

Both monotheists and polytheists, in their desire to strictly adhering to rules and rituals, have a tendency towards superstitious dogma. They disagree, fight and argue over the minutiae of religious practices, deeming some superior, and condemning others as heretical. 

Religious authorities who supposedly have an insight into the Truth get to declare what is right and wrong. When believers refuse to agree with their existing authority, they form new ones--a new school or sect is born. And when these new schools mix ideology with power and politics, bloody wars are fought to determine whose version of truth is the real one.

We are all so human when it comes to religious beliefs, mixing them with our petty fears and insecurities. When they get entangled with politics, they become an even more volatile mix. We take religion way too seriously, when the wiser approach would be to treat it like a soul-enriching hobby.

Religious texts, when interpreted by men of wisdom do inspire and enlighten the masses. However, they are often way over-valued. Some of our more modern spiritual writings and poetry contain equal if not better instructions for the seeker of Truth. The writings of some atheists are far more compassionate and lifting than the toxic hatred spewed by some of our firebrand preachers. 

We think that moral and social decay will set in if we do not strictly uphold the tenets of our religion. But the fact of the matter is that societies evolve; technology reshapes how we live our lives, amplifying both our good and bad natures; what used to work in providing social cohesion and stability are not adequate anymore. Being dogmatic about them does more harm than good.

Wisdom has to be cultivated from the inside. All the spiritual teachings accumulated over the ages can only provide the sunlight and soil for the cultivation of the divine soul within. If we are obsessed with outward appearances in the form of religious pedigrees and garbs, we'll never acquire the skill of inner awakening. 

We all have the godhead within that lies dormant like a seed. That's the one true god that we should seek. The God and gods that we all worship externally are nothing but shadows cast by this inner divine light.  Like Plato's prisoners in the allegory of the cave, we should all unshackle ourselves, and turn towards the light.

The Continuous Rebirth of the Soul

I slept very late last night because I had to finish off some work before I go on leave today. So here I am now, in my abode of books in Cyberjaya, typing these lines to the strains of some nice Baroque music. 

Time to relax, stretch out my legs and reflect back on the week that passed. What did I learn? It was a tough week workwise with a lot of technical challenges. I've learned to trust my instincts when it comes to work. Every time I am stuck, I'll continuing plowing on, trying one thing after another until I hit a solution. The universe wants to be resolved, One must always believe that.

To believe in oneself is to surrender to whatever that arises. The ego has to get out of the way first. Or else you'll be led off course by your own selfish interest and not towards the best outcome. Selfishness is often ruled by fear--the need to cling to an existing state of affairs and not welcome another.

But change is inevitable, as is always the case. By surrendering to the flow of things, one dissolves one's ego, allowing a new outcome to arise. Clinging and grasping are are natural tendencies of the ego. How does one detect that? By listening to its signals--the palpitations of fear, the flush of shame or the hunger of greed.

We fear, because something we hold dear is threatened. Self-preservation instincts kick in. All our cunning and deceitfulness start working overtime to address the situation. The mindful man would always detect the onset of this course and correct it immediately. There's a self-monitoring mechanism at work in the mind of the wise, with a high sampling rate: sample, check, proceed, sample, check, proceed, sample, check, stop!

Shame, if not followed up by a need to hide it, is harmless. It is merely the dissolution of the ego. Something--a self-image, pride, a false belief--crumbled. And in that crumbling, the soul cries out in shame because its falsehood has been exposed. Allow shame to find its healing through acceptance. Take it as a blessing that in being ashamed, one has been given a chance to set a new course.

Sometimes change itself exposes opportunities that stir one's greed: why can't I make some money from this? Why not take the opportunity to accumulate more of what I already have? Why not claim more credit by exaggerating my achievements? What's the harm in that? None whatsoever, if the ego gets out of the way. 

'Greed', is the natural tendency to expand and grow. But unselfish growth can only be driven by creativity. Is it a creative thing to do? Is there potential pain there that one has not identified? Spur yourself on if you must, driven by your creative impulse to grow and create and procreate. It is your way to work out your karma. 

No child is born into this world without first causing a lot of pain to his or her mother who had to go through the trauma of childbirth. But delivering a child is pain that a mother willingly takes on, knowing that it is her purpose of existence to procreate. In bringing a child into the world, the universe has expressed itself creatively. The birth pangs of a mother are noble suffering one takes stoically.

Every moment the soul is reborn. The rebirth of the soul is painful. That is why life is suffering. But it is suffering one takes consciously and willingly, one moment at a time. Taken moment by moment, everything is bearable and noble.  And long may this process continue!

Nature's Course

It's the last.day of the month of April and tomorrow marks another change of phase in the pandemic for Malaysians. We can officially do away with the mask outdoors and we do not have to check-in via the MySejahtera app when entering any premise, as we have been doing for the past 2 years.

Will I be taking the opportunity to go out more? Unlikely, because I've changed and my job now demands me to be indoors for the major part of the day. It's difficult to work from cafes as I have to rely on my large  desktop monitor to access many different interfaces at the same time. Moreover I have to go on calls every day, which makes it a bit difficult to do in a noisy cafe.

But I've bought myself a portable monitor, which I am experimenting with, to see if I could set up office with 2 screens, wherever I'm at. It's in keeping with the subject of my previous blog article--everything is play, including work. Work should not be so serious. We should all lighten up. It is easier for me because I do not have any skin in the corporate game. Work to me is just like hanging out with friends, and putting in a helping hand wherever and whenever I can. Everyone is by default a friend. Why not help a friend without expecting anything in return?

Why is it important to not to expect anything in return? I believe I have written extensively before regarding this, with reference to karma yoga, which to me is the simplest and best spiritual practice because it blends into our everyday lives. Every time we give without conditions, we are setting in motion forces in the universe that will find its natural course, nurturing the environment around us in the most optimal way. Nature always finds equilibrium which we in our human-centric language call 'justice'.

Justice is nothing but the law of energy conservation. Whenever humans create a code of ethics or a guide to morality--which organised religions do, with good but misguided intentions--we are simply provide good rules-of-thumb for effective energy management. 

We do no waste energy chasing after ego-driven goals, because we will set into motion repercussions which we have to handle further down the road, with greater cost. You cannot create a crest without forcing a trough. That doesn't mean that we should all be complacent people, leading lazy and contented lives. Instead, we go after them purposefully, but allowing room for the universe to surprise us with its best outcome.

What the universe decides for us is the best, because karmically, it is the most energy efficient outcome. When you put ego, pride, revenge or hatred into the mix, you are setting up a nexus of forces that will ultimately be costly to manage. Nature knows best. Some religious-minded person might want to replace the word 'Nature' with 'God'. As the cliche goes, Man proposes, God disposes. And in the same spirit I post this article, allowing it to find its natural course in cyberspace.

The Cosmic Play

Today is a day for me to run errands and relax. Blogging is a way for me to relax--allowing my natural thoughts to flow and find their way as words on this empty page.

Words emerge from the void. You just need to know how to listen for them. Whenever we face a block, it is usually because we are not listening intently. Our minds are too noisy. Noise cannot be transcribed into words because they are incoherent.

A coherent thought has a natural grace that expresses itself with ease in words. Thoughts need not contain any points--just like the flow of water on a river, governed by gravity. Thoughts are just the spontaneous manifestation of nature.

And occasionally these thoughts contain seeds that germinate. And what mighty trees they become!  What was the seed that led to the tree that is the company that you've built?  Or the book that you have written? Or the marriage that you now find yourself in?

Everything began with a single thought. And where did these thoughts come from? Did you will them into being? No, they arose spontaneously, driven by the conditions you find yourself in, and your natural inclination--your genes. Some thoughts are as inevitable as rain in December. The winds and the currents all conspire to produce them.

And here I am, writing these words: thoughts musing on thoughts and the process of thinking--like fish frolicking playfully in the pond. The universe is at play. Lila, as they like to call it.

As kids we all like to play. We discover the universe through playing. Sometimes we get hurt in the process, but the bruises and pain are all part of the fun. What is life without play? The universe itself is playful by nature.

Life becomes miserable whenever play is disrupted--very much like a football match with too many interruptions from fouls. When we play we must also be sporting. Being sporting means respecting the spirit of play. It is by being sportingly playful that one is in harmony with everything.

Just like this blog article. I don't exactly have a real subject--I'm just playing with words. For writing, when it is fun and spontaneous, is also play, as is everything in life. Through play, we relax into our natural state, in alignment with all the forces at play in the universe.

In the end, all the universe is doing is playing itself out--from the moment of Big Bang to its ultimate disintegration or collapse. All the determinism and randomness are part of an unscripted performance. And we, as bit players in this cosmic drama, should strive to play our part.

The Quest for Qualia

It takes a lot of skill and courage to see things from another person's point of view. All of us are naturally prejudiced. What feels so right inside you is naturally difficult to dislodge.

Why did Putin choose to attack the Ukraine? Historians for generations to come will continue to dissect this. We will never know with certainty how he sees the world. Because we are all inclined to judge others based on our own standards.

We are all products of our genes, upbringing and life experiences. The trauma you suffered as a child and shaped who you are today, is difficult for another person to comprehend. The books that I find so inspiring could be utterly boring to you.

We look at trees and see green leaves. We both agree that green is a cool and relaxing colour. But how can be sure that the green I experience with my senses is the same as the one that you are having? It is possible that what I see as 'green' is actually the experience of 'red' for you. There is actually no way to find out. I've been conditioned since birth to see the colour 'red' as cooling rather than something hot and fiery. The experience of the colour 'red' is exactly like how you feel when you see green. 

Philosophers call this qualia. Qualia is what your senses and mind perceive. It is the 'greenness' of leaves. We could agree on the frequency of green light mathematically, but you and I can never objectively compare these experiences.

Experience is always qualia-tative. It is what it is. Wavelength, amplitude, frequency--these are quantitative data which can never convey what we actually experience as a human being.

What I find fascinating is that despite the variety of human experiences, we actually could agree on a lot of things. If I tell you that I'm in love, you'll know exactly what I'm talking about. Why? How could it be possible that we--two genetically different assemblages of biological cells that had been been subjected to different sensory experiences, nutrition and education conjure up within our internal worlds, something which we can agree as 'love'?  Is the qualia of love universal?

Or perhaps life and its associated experiences are not so complicated after all. Our common experiences could be an inevitable outcome of physical processes obeying physical laws. Just like how perturbations on the ocean would always take shapes which you would recognize as 'waves', and vapour condensing and clumping together into recognizable fluffy-looking objects in the sky, which we call 'clouds'. These are all natural formations, observable under similar conditions in any planet in the universe.

The qualia of love could be a natural state that arises when there's a natural affinity of needs between two biological systems. Life is nothing but the arisal of qualia. And all of human civilization, our art, culture and scientific achievements are part of this neverending quest for qualia.

The Value of Work

Looking forward to a good rest this weekend after a tiring work week. As I slowly relax on a Friday evening, my mind begins to ponder about the nature of work and the type of work that brings the most satisfaction.

There are both boring and challenging aspects to what I'm doing now. There are repetitive tasks that I have to do again and again--these are  the 'boring' type of work. And yet I do not mind doing them because they can be done almost subconsciously. I merely treat them as opportunities to practice mindfulness--to be aware of what you are doing, no matter how boring, and to see them as actions that are most appropriate for the moment.

What is boredom anyway? Boredom always begin with an expectation. When the expectation of the mind is not fulfilled, there's disappointment and frustration. Or when nothing happens at all--like when you are watching an action movie and 30 minutes into the show, there's still only dialogue and no car-chase or nor killing-- you are both bored and disappointed.

Work can be like that. When you are doing the same data-entry task for the umpteenth time, you begin to question if this is the most worthwhile way to spend your productive working time. Is this going to get you anywhere? You begin to long for fresh challenges, where you could utilize your skills.

However for some, this repetition of the familiar is a much-welcome comfort zone. You are master of all you survey, at least in the small area of your expertise. You are never stressed and you handle every task with efficiency and aplomb. Wouldn't this be an ideal job?

It all depends on where you are in your life. If you are young and ambitious, you want to be upwardly mobile. You want to make a name for yourself and climb the ladder of success. You yearn for the glory of power, position and money. That's not a bad thing at all. One should go all out to pursue one's material ambitions.

But when one reaches a stage in life where one has a family to feed, then security of career and income become upper-most. No more risky career moves that could put one's rice-bowl in jeopardy. The daily chore of bringing up kids and managing household expenses is already a challenge enough. You see a lot of these people in the corporate world--people entrenched in their secure jobs, grateful for the regular paycheck that ensures the wellbeing of their families.

My attitude towards work is slightly unconventional. Being single, I do not have the pressure of having to provide for a family, even do I do have dependents and household expenses to pay. But the glory of corporate success never held any attraction for me, which explains my independent streak and my tendency towards straying from the 'right' way of doing things, to the detriment of my career. I never saw work as a 'career'.  

Work is action performed towards a goal. It could be any goal. And the work that is done towards that end will always present some challenges that expose your weaknesses. That is what I am grateful for. The pain one has to go through in overcoming obstacles always says something about oneself. And by being mindful of these, one can gain a lot of insights.

Work, as I've said before is a kind of penance, a pilgrimage if you will. Whatever accolades one gets in the process of performing it is just bonus. Work is a revelation when performed with the right mindset. And that to me is the real value of work.

The Gut of God

“Look, here is a tree in the garden and every summer it produces apples, and we call it an apple tree because the tree "apples." That's what it does. Alright, now here is a solar system inside a galaxy, and one of the peculiarities of this solar system is that at least on the planet earth, the thing peoples! In just the same way that an apple tree apples!”   - Alan Watts

I begin with a quote today because I have been thinking all week about the process of life in the universe. I can't help it, but these are the thoughts that occupy my mind in between my mundane daily activities and my only way of making sense of them is to process them out here in my blog.

We often think of life as something special and precious that sets living things apart from the inanimate matter. It's like something magical that is bestowed on a specific class of of systems, even though both living and inanimate things are built using the same materials--the 118 chemical elements in the periodic table. This gives rise to words like 'soul' or 'spirit', which is an attempt to put a label to that extra 'something' that differentiates living from non-living things.

Genesis 2:7, Then the Lord God formed a man from the dust of the ground and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life, and the man became a living being.

As what the famous verse says, we are moulded from clumps of dirt and the X ingredient is injected into us to make us alive. But when it comes to 'organisms' like viruses, are they considered alive? Biologists argue about it because a virus is nothing more than a  protein sheath around strands of DNA or RNA but it reproduces itself like any other lifeform, albeit by taking advantage of its host. Viruses can be crystalized and remain inert forever like chemicals and spring back to 'life' again when conditions are right.

We are also getting close to having robots and AI systems that passes the Turing Test flawlessly and its behaviour would be indistinguishable from an average intelligent human being. Will they be considered as living beings and be accorded the same rights in the eyes of the law as us?

We even see ourselves as above other indisputably living things like animal and plants. But how many of us would have wished that our loved ones display the kind of unconditional love that a dog has towards its owner? 

Even plants are not unlike us. According to scientists and those who work in managing forests, trees are also social beings and they struggle against yet cooperate with each other for survival. They communicate with chemicals over an 'internet' of roots and fungi with each other. 

 If we look closely at our own living human body which we are so proud of, we find that in terms of cells, more than half of us consists of the community of bacteria living in our guts. It is this symbiotic relationship with our microbiome that makes us healthy and living. We simply cannot survive without them. We have 2 sets of genome: the human one and those carried by our gut microbes. Based on the number of genetic instructions that determine the functioning of our living body, we are more microbe than human.

What does that say about the process of life in nature? Isn't nature itself like a big gigantic living thing? Through the concept of Gaia, we already know that the Earth is like an organism. 

Nature is life. It is what existence is. There is no clear separation between living and non-living things: it is a continuum. The Earth is 'peopling'' because it is part of a natural process that happens when the conditions are right.

The photons, atoms, molecules, stars and planets and galaxies are undergoing an evolutionary process because existence itself is a process. Process means change, according to the laws that it is subjected to. Every step of change is natural and inevitable, based on its condition and environment. 

If we want to be romantic about it, we can call this living universe,God. God is us and we are God. But I think a more picturesque description would be: we are like microbes in the gut of God.

The Pupahood of Pettiness

Having finished my work early, I could afford to start blogging on a Friday evening. It's a great feeling being able to look forward to a weekend ahead for rest and recuperation.  

The television is filled with news on war in the Ukraine. We humans can never seem to outgrow our instinct to control others for our own self-preservation. We view life narrowly--from our own selfish point of view. Don't we all do that? When it comes to the crunch, you and your own family members matter more than your neighbour's. 

The instinct for self-preservation is what drives life on Earth. The perpetuation of our own kind is what matters. Genes need to perpetuate themselves at all costs. That is the game of life. My genes matter more than yours, on this small tiny clump of matter circling an average star on an unremarkable spot in the Milk Way galaxy, which consists of several hundred billion stars, which is also part of a cluster of galaxies called the Local Group, which is part of the larger the larger Virgo Supercluster, which is just one of around 10 million superclusters in the obvervable universe.

And still we fight over small swathes of land, as if they are the ultimate purpose of our existence. But what is the purpose of our existence? Don't we wonder about this with our puny brains, made of carbon-based molecules. And what laughably grand thoughts emerge from these brains, filled with so much pride and pomposity. 

We also spend a great deal of time speculating about life after death. Yes, there must be some kind of paradise which exists beyond the seemingly tough struggles of existence on this earth where all our desires and needs will be fulfilled. And our dreams are defined by what we know to be desirable in our short lifetime--all the things we wish we had but did not. That's our dream of paradise--defined by very mortal sights, sounds, smells and touch that give us pleasure.

We think we humans are the pinnacle of life. Don't we pity those insects and animals who do not fathom the aesthetic beauty of our music and art, the culinary delights of our world cuisines, the excitement of our video games and outdoor sports and the stimulating conversations with our loved ones and friends. 

But is what we experience with our mortal consciousness the epitome of experience? In our more philosophical moments, we do sometimes wonder, what's it like to be a bat? To 'see' the world with sonar? To dance from flower to flower, as a butterfly, guided by the ultra-violet display of flower petals?

Certainly the caterpillar, stuck on a surface of a leave could not have fathomed the life that awaited him as a butterfly, with wings to flutter across gardens filled with a dazzling array of multi-coloured flowers, sucking the sweetest of nectars from within the hearts of these blooms?

How curious would have been the life of a catepillar, from the viewpoint of a butterfly. And wouldn't the caterpillar think that its slow transformation into a mummy-like pupa akin to old-age and death? We could all laugh at our pettiness one day, when we all become butterflies. How we were childish little caterpillars, thinking that the leaf that we clung to so desperately for food and foothold were all the world there is.  How silly we were to dread our decline into pupahood! 

But we know better now, as resplendent butterflies, smiling at the pettiness of the caterpillar. Or do we?

The Happiness of Pursuit

I need to rest as I've been staring at the computer screen all day for the past week. I went for a haircut at the mall and had a leisurely stroll through the aisles of a bookstore and as always, ending up with a couple of new purchases.

The crowd is coming back to all the shopping places and that's a boon for the retail businesses. We are supposedly entering the endemic phase of the Covid-19 pandemic where we learn to live with it, with so-called 'standard operating precedures' or SOP, which Malaysians have adopted as part of their everyday vocabulary.

Will we go back to our old habits of spending, littering and generally, consuming in excess? We certainly will because it is in our nature. It is also our nature to forget, which may not necessarily be a bad thing, as I've argued many times in previous blog articles. But pain is a great etcher of memory and hopefully we've learned many such painful memories during the pandemic.

While we complain about the many inconveniences which the pandemic had brought us, Ukranians are now living under the fear of being bombed to smithereens by their Russian neighbours. When our everyday ordinary lives are being disrupted, we'll start to appreciate more of what we've always had. All the ordinary things that we take for granted--a walk in the park, browsing the latest bestsellers at the bookstore, slurping through your wonton noodles at your favourite hawker stall or simply going to the ATM to withdraw cash--become longingly beautiful.

Life is great and we make it unbearable by wanting too much. We yearn to be elsewhere, to find the life partner of our dreams, to have that perfect job that provides the position and perks and the recognition of others. We should start appreciating the fact that we even have that opportunity and possibility of chasing after these yearnings of the heart. Being able to do the things that you set out to do is what that matters. Happiness--the everyday mortal variety--is found in the act of pursuit.