Of Friends, Fuzziness, Fun and the Fount of Creativity

It has been a long week for me, tackling various different issues at work. What a welcome relief it is to be able to finally sit back, relax and reflect, by writing my weekly blog article. I should have written this earlier this morning but I've been catching up with some old friends over lunch.

Sometimes social activities would disrupt my weekend routine of writing and reading but it's a welcome change. Exchanging views with friends is a great learning experience. We all see life from different perspectives and our own views could be narrow and parochial without us realising it. Simply listening to other people would sometimes force us to reexamine our own beliefs. 

When it comes to the subject of religion or spirituality, everyone resonates to a different set of vocabulary. Those with an engineering or scientific bent would like to think and explain in terms of 'energy' or 'states of mind', which I admittedly have a tendency to do too.  Those who have a more literary or poetic disposition would tend to be receptive to a language that uses words like 'love', 'glory' or 'grace'.  The former speaks to the intellect, the latter, the heart.

I have friends who claim that they are not spiritual at all.  But they all have fallen in love, gotten married and have an idea of what makes a 'good life'. They all appreciate, to various extents, beauty in music and art. To me, when you are capable of love and beauty, you have already entered the spiritual realm. We are all, like it or not, homo spiritus.

We become spiritual the moment we start questioning the meaning of our existence. The need to love and be loved, is the germ of the spiritual impulse. When we admire the vast beauty of the blue ocean, or a view of a landscape from a mountain-top, we are seized by a feeling of awe and grandeur, and ultimately, a yearning for something higher.

There must be something more than this; some grand scheme of things where we are a part of. We long to be connected to it. This hunger for meaning and transcendence--is this simply a quirk of the human intelligence, a spandrel of evolution, almost like a useless by-product?

Or is it our real nature--the driving force behind evolution itself? Something like Schopenhauer's concept of will or Hegel's geist? Any philosophical explanation of the world has to be expressed in human language. And there's where all hell breaks loose. 

Words are never truly objective. Every word has a fuzzy boundary--almost like an electron, which has a position defined probabilistically. We kind of know--or intuit--the meaning of a word and what it most likely means. But no two person can see the same bulls-eye. 

For every word, our 'meaning clouds' do overlap, but when we have many words joined together into sentences, the final outcome could convey something very different in the minds of the speaker and the listener. 

Listening with an open mind means that one is aware of the fuzziness inherent in language and is constantly readjusting one's conceptual framework to accommodate different possibilities.  It is the fuzziness of language that makes it fun, and ultimately serve as the fount of creativity. 

The Virus of Ignorance

I wrote about divine revelation last week, on Revelation Day. This week I'm going to explore why religion can inspire huge swaths of humanity towards greatness, and paradoxically, it is also the reason for violence between believers and non-believers.

Religion unlocks the spiritual dimension in all of us. A little bit of religion can be a dangerous thing, because once the spirit is unleashed, it thinks that it is the mightiest force in the universe.  Like first love, religious feelings can feel very right.  If these passions are channelled towards the right direction, great things can come about. A person can be inspired to greatness, with all his good qualities amplified. Cathedrals and civilisations are built this way.

But if the religious person has insecurities and prejudices, coupled with ignorance, then that little bit of spiritual awakening can turn a person into a bigot. It is easy to be carried away by the romance of religion--that sense of superiority and empowerment that one draws from a community of believers. Religion sometimes short-circuits the mind and turn a person into an ugly zealot, capable of hatred and violence of the most terrible kind.

A religious person who exhibits saintly virtues is one whose innate goodness has been made manifest through the practise religion. Religion accentuates and transform them into powerful qualities that make these souls charismatic leaders of their communities.  But because all humans are ultimately flawed, these elevated beings, if and when they fall, they fall hard.

Good religious leaders are never attention seekers. They are sought after because of their wisdom. But they have the self-awareness and humility to know the limited extent of their knowledge and influence.  They know that truth is strong enough to stand on its own without needing to shout from the pulpit. Wisdom is a tree that bears fruit a the right time. It is not a volcano that erupts violently with fire and brimstone.

All religions are man-made institutions. They are built to perpetuate some spiritual truths, which are not the monopoly of any group or sect.  Like different schools of art or music, they celebrate different aspects of the aesthetic impulse. It is also no surprise that all religions inspired great works of art and architecture. Religion expands the realm of consciousness and offers us glimpses of beauty and insight, that transcends the seemingly meaningless world of the mundane.

The true spiritual seeker, like an astute connoisseur of art, seeks and celebrates all religious traditions, appreciating them as diverse expressions of the divine spirit. Doctrinal differences are nothing but a testimony to the richness of human experience and our feeble attempts to express its verisimilitude.

Religion, art, culture and politics are part of the humanity. And as human beings, we live to socialise, philosophise and romanticise. Sometimes we get caught up in the passionate fervour of it all; sometimes we bicker foolishly over trivialities and other times we are completely blinded by our intolerance and ignorance that we are driven to settle them with blood. 

Sadly, ignorance is often spread by preachers in the name of religion. Dogma, superstition and bigotry are implanted into eager young minds, seeking meaning and truth. Ignorance, couched in religious garb, is a virus that kills, literally. Only an open mind, exposed to the whole gamut of human knowledge, acquires the resistance against such attacks. May we all have the strength and resilience to acquire the immunity that is wisdom.

Reflections on Revelations

Today is a public holiday because it is Nuzul Al Quran or the Quran Revelation Day--the day when Muslims celebrate the Prophet Muhammad's first revelation from God through the Angel Gabriel at the cave of Hira' in the year 610 CE.

Iqra!--was the first word uttered by the Angel Gabriel. This is usually translated as 'read' or 'recite'.  Read what? I don't know how to read! This was the first shocked reaction of Muhammad, who was then nothing but an ordinary Arab merchant, wise, pious and trustworthy, but quite illiterate. 

The Angel Gabriel, comforted the cowering man and then proclaimed the famous first five verses:

Read in the name of your Lord who created--

Created man from a clinging substance.

Read, and your Lord is most Generous--

He who taught by the pen--

Taught man that which he knew not.

You can find these verses in the Quran today in chapter or Surah 96, called 'Al-Alaq'. Why are they not in chapter 1 of the Holy Book itself? Well, the chapters of the Quran are not arranged in the chronological order as they were revealed to the Prophet Muhammad over a period of 23 years. This was based on historical and practical reasons. In the beginning the Quran was memorised and transmitted orally.  The arrangement, as it was passed down, was probably arranged based on thematic coherence and linguistic flow.  

I like the three key words that immediately strike the mind with powerful imagery when we read these verses: 'read', 'clinging substance' and 'pen'--iqra, alaq and qalam.   The 'clinging substance' -- al-alaq--from which the surah takes its name, is sometimes translated as 'clot'. It reminds us of the humble origin of man as nothing but a sticky lump of blood, an embryo clinging to the wall of the uterus. The act of reading and the instrument of the pen (by which God taught Man), symbolises the heights of knowledge and wisdom which that clinging substance could ultimately aspire to.

The task for Man as decreed by God is immediately conveyed: rise from ignorance to enlightenment. Reading and writing are indeed the hallmarks of a great civilisation. And the inspiration from the written verses of the Quran, together with their stirring recitations have certainly roused the nomadic tribes of Arabia into a conquering force, creating a civilisation and empire, which at its heights covered great portions of the three continents of Europe, Africa and Asia.

Though I do not know Arabic, let alone the classical version used in the Quran, I could see how poetic and powerful its verses are. I hear the rousing call of azan and sometimes prayers broadcasted from the nearby mosque, every morning while lying in bed. The sound and rhythm of the recitation alone carries deep resonance.

Karen Armstrong, author of A History of God and many other books on religion including a biography of Muhammad, wrote that it was like Muhammad had invented a new literary form--the verses of the Quran struck the minds of the Arabic speaker deeply and emotionally. 

Having the aesthetic sense stirred, is the first sign of spiritual awakening.  The most direct path to the spiritual source of the human psyche is through sound. And the poetic verses of the Quran, combining meaning, imagery and sound, ignites the divine spark in the reader and listener.

We humans have different constitutions and dispositions. Like the Prophet Muhammad, we will all find one or many moments in our lives which completely shift our entire perspective. All of us receive revelations; just that sometimes they pass right through us, because or we did not notice them or are plainly ignorant. So what's the remedy for that? 

Simple: Iqra!

The Art of Acceptance

I'm happy that I don't have to spend much of my weekend on my day job, unlike in the past.  It had been my practice to reserve my weekends for 'real work' -- work that requires deep thought and concentration. The weekdays are for transactional activities--meetings and emails mostly. But these days, my work is chiefly transactional and this is great because I don't have to carry them over to the weekend.

However today, because there's some scheduled maintenance work, I had to spend the early part of the afternoon working online. Now that it's done, I'm free to blog, or as I like to put it: taking my keyboard fingers for a walk.

Maybe these fingers have an intelligence of their own. They bring me wherever they choose to go. Dear fingers, where are you leading me now? Clickety-click, clickety-click...let's write about...'Acceptance'. Hmm, why this topic and what do I have to say about it? 

I've certainly written about this subject before. But lately I've been listening to a lot of people complaining about the hot weather. Well, the temperature usually soars this time of the year, every year. But why do people still complain about it, as if it is the first time that they are experiencing it? 

I noticed that it is hot, but not particularly hotter than any previous years. I don't suffer any major discomfort from it. True, I have my air-conditioning running most of the time while at work but when I'm outdoors, I do sweat profusely, and feel the burning heat of our tropical sun.

I simply acknowledge it and move on. Complaining doesn't make the heat wave go away. Acceptance does. I realised that life is miserable for a lot of people because they fuss over things that they have no control over. We can influence many other things in our lives but not the weather. You can't prevent yourself from sweating, no matter how hard you try. Sweating is certainly uncomfortable but if you keep on harping on it, you'll only make yourself miserable.

Acceptance is a skill that people need to cultivate. It may sound like a simple thing, but it is not because we are so used to not accepting the situation as it is and strive to change it. Yes, I agree that the world is a better place because many enterprising people chose not to accept things as they are and strive to create a better one. What I'm highlighting is that one must be wise in choosing what to accept and not. 

For example, any misfortune that befalls us, be it an illness, loss of a loved one or financial loss, could cause us enormous emotional distress. This is expected and unavoidable. If one were to continuously wallow in despair or self-pity, at some point it becomes self-defeating. You would only create more harm to your physical and mental health.

All pain has a life-cyle. Allow it to reach its fullness and let it decay gracefully. Acceptance is simply acknowledging this natural process and letting it play itself out. Karma works itself out completely and optimally when given the chance. This also applies to simple discomforts like the hot weather. Accept it, and immediately your mind moves on to more important things. Why complain and give it the time and energy that it does not deserve? Take the necessary action to reduce the discomfort, if you need to. Otherwise, save the energy for more important things.

Through acceptance, one becomes 'life-dynamic'--like how a fish moves through water. One senses discomfort and obstacles, acknowledges them and perform the necessary action to minimise their effects. Acceptance is optimisation at work. Acceptance is an art which we all need to practice. And be grateful that life always provides sufficient discomforts for you to hone it to perfection. 

Bibliophilic Bouts

I was at the barber just now and I had to wait a short while for my turn. As always, waiting is never an issue as it means that I am pleasantly rewarded with some reading time. 

How often do we complain that we do not have the time to indulge in our hobbies. Well, if reading happens to be your pastime of choice, then you're in luck. You can squeeze it into the interstices of your life--all those tiny amount of time in between major events or tasks which make up your day.

Reading to me is like eating. Every sentence is a morsel of food, which you savour with your mind. And you'd relish it exactly like a tantalising piece of delicacy dropped into your salivating mouth. Only that the nourishment from the former is, I would argue, exceeds anything that is consumed orally.

I do not only read everywhere, I've also acquired the habit of annotating the pages of my book with a pencil. And I'm not doing it because I have to mark up facts for some research project, just that reading and annotating is my way of fully concentrating and enjoying every word and sentence that the author has carefully and painstakingly assembled for my edification. 

I know, it's a peculiar sight these days to find anyone reading in public, what more with a 2B pencil in hand, dissecting blocks of text on a piece of printed page. And to extend the food analogy further: my pencil is like an eating utensil--not unlike a pair of chopsticks--picking out and shoving bite-sized chunks of savoury delights into my mind.

An annotated page immediately becomes mine: it is the conquered terrain, which I the reader-traveller had ploughed through, with some effort. Experiences movingly carved with the scalpel of my pencil.  The marginalia becomes the journal of my reading life. Thoughts, events and silent chuckles captured in black scrawls, marking the width and breadth of my bibliophilic realm, 

I read for the sheer pleasure of consuming text; the nourishments of its contents is an additional bonus which my mind is rewarded with. And over time, I realised that my sensitivity to words and their multi-various meanings becomes greatly enhanced.  My mental tastebuds have acquired aptitudes in ever-expanding dimensions, opening vistas of delights hitherto unknown.

Ah, I'm waxing lyrical again about the ecstatic joys of reading, especially the form that involves the dead-tree variety--this gluttony of books, which I succumb, unashamedly to; this hill of hedonism which I willingly die on. I do not claim any intellectual or moral superiority--it is simply an indulgence, pure and simple.

So do not attempt to save me from this addiction which had and is consuming my life. This junkie seeks no pity nor sympathy. I read, therefore I am. And occasionally I write too, in blog articles like these here. But these are just the sober interludes between my blissful bouts of bibliophilia.

Grumblings and Gratitude

Today I've decided not to write anything ponderous and pseudo-philosophical, which is my usual staple of weekly ramblings. There are a lot of fun subjects that people in social media write about. Why can't I be like them sometimes? Rave about the best nasi lemak in town; comment on the latest 3R (race, royalty and religion) meme or just bitch about things in general?

What are the everyday things that annoy me? Let me think. I've trained myself to look at the positive side of things that I've gotten into the habit of ignoring anything that annoys me.  But I do get annoyed sometimes. For example, whenever I'm driving and someone honks loudly and unnecessarily. It perturbs me but I tend to let it go immediately.  

I rarely use the horn and if I do, I often apply my well-practiced staccato toot. To me the car horn is one feature that no manufacturer has gotten right. Why can't we have a polite horn--a doorbell-like sound that says 'excuse me', instead of that loud blare that screams "fuck off" or "stupid asshole"?  What we need is the horn equivalent of a small and big flush, like what you see on some eco-friendly toilets. Raising your voice (or horn) should never be your default mode, well, unless you are driving in India. Then it's a different story, for there driving is a social experience. Honking is a way to announce and acknowledge the presence of others on the road.

Youtube ads used to annoy me too but I paid my way out of it by subscribing to its premium version. It's one subscription which I think is worth it because it saves one a lot of time, and spares the mind of a lot of irritating brags by self-styled gurus peddling their get-rich-quick secrets.

Some banking apps annoy me because they don't make things easy for you. Logging in is always a challenge and when you do succeed, they clutter your screen with pop-up ads and security warnings. And these days, the trend is to display accounts in a fancy carousel, which requires you to scroll horizontally. The combination of horizontal and vertical scrolling, though cool, is annoying, at least to me. 

But having been a developer myself, I know how these UI decisions are arrived upon. Most product owners prioritise form over function. Product features are decided by a committee of people. They are just interested to check all the boxes which the management had decided. Developers code features blindly and unquestioningly. And when you have been viewing and testing your UI for months, you fail to see how it would look to someone using it for the first time. What does the user see first?  A few things need to stand out from the clutter. These have to be the few things that the user is interested in. Do your selling later. Let the user get on with the main functions of the app. 

In the brick-and-mortar world, there are service establishments that fall to the same trap of not prioritising the customer. There are some restaurants that annoyed me by serving hot tea in a paper cup, when the main course is served in nice plates and stainless steel cutlery. I can understand if you are a fast-food restaurant, but if you are charging me premium prices in a cosy dine-in place, I think it is an affront to serve hot drinks, and tea especially, in a paper cup.

At the end of the day, whenever we reflect upon all these little annoyances, we should also remind ourselves to be grateful for being able to enjoy all these little luxuries and conveniences of life. At least we are able to afford them and be able to drive, surf, bank and eat in relative comfort.  Find something to be grateful about every time you grumble. You will find that Gratitude is the great dissolver of annoyances. 

The Harmonics of Thoughts

When I write longhand with a fountain pen in my journal, I get to examine every thought with precision. Writing, like meditation, allows you to recalibrate your mind. The mind is an instrument that needs to be handled with care. It is a powerful tool which, if used correctly can affect changes in the world.

The mind filters our perception of the world.  It is like a language model that interprets what's out there and attempt to see order out of the jumble of chaos.  Our perception is coloured by experience and ego.  Meditation, and journalling helps you to identify the tendencies of the mind and its many biases.

The mind abhors uncertainty. It wants to be decisive and is thus prone to making snap judgements on people and situations. Once an opinion has 'snapped' into place, it is difficult to dislodge it. Prejudices are examples of such snap judgements, which have been elevated to the level of 'facts', in the person's mind. We do not question them anymore. They are as real as the object sitting right in front of us.

It is important to be vigilante of this tendency of the mind. Remember, the mind likes the world to be binary. Yes or no; white or black. Nuances are expensive to keep track of. They consume compute time and memory. The mind wants to decide fast, so that it can get on with the next thing.

By slowing down a thought, you perceive all the properties that make up its composition.  You observe that a thought is the superposition of many sub-thoughts. Break them down; do the equivalent of a Fourier Transform of your thought signal. You will then identify the fundamental thought frequencies that are constantly reverberating in your mind.

Your fears and prejudices manifest as distinctive frequency bands in every thought. Once you see them, you can then apply the necessary filters to eliminate them.  At the same time, you'll also be able to pick out the good tendencies that you want to accentuate. Filter out the bad, amplify the good.

Every thought is rich in harmonic frequencies. Through meditation, you catch a glimpse of these underlying harmonics and be able to trace their subtle origins. Writing in longhand with a good fountain pen enables us to expose these harmonics in a tactile and visual manner.  

And how do you shape the spectrum of your thought signals? Through writing too. Put forth a proposition. Materialise it in the form of a sentence. Shape every letter and word slowly and watch them manifest on the page.  That's the best way to control what thought comes into your mind: you simply inject the thought through the physical act of writing. By physicalising a thought, you accentuate it. The pen is both the transducer and the actuator.

So be sensitive to the harmonics of your thoughts. It is through their control and mastery that put you in harmony with the universe.

The Perfect Mouthful of a Moment

I have absolutely no idea what I'm going to write about today but let me riff a little first. I write to relax, and certainly not to stress myself unnecessarily to meet the demands of a certain readership. It's a bit like journalling (which I also do, the old-fashioned way with a notebook and fountain pen), but not exactly because blogging, being public, is a little bit more formal.

A blog article is an exploration, a study, a sketch. It's not exactly fit for print publication because it's raw and at times meandering, not having the benefit of good copy-editing. But hopefully it is comprehensible to anyone to happens to chance upon it.  And for me, it helps me to clarify my thoughts about certain subjects that occupy my mind.

Blogging, like reading, is an activity which I like to perform at a cafe, where I could observe people and the world. Sometimes I amuse myself with morbid thoughts like how in another hundred years, everyone that I see around me would have been dead, (including yours truly, of course). Every care and concern that they have now would have been totally forgotten. 

The aromatic and relaxing Earl Grey that I'm sipping now, the joy that I feel typing these words, the laughter of kids playing around the mock plum blossom tree, the father in shorts pushing the shopping trolley filled with food provisions for the family, the pair of lovers holding hands and playfully teasing each other--that procession of peace, joy and well-being paraded here--gone! Everyone dissolving into bones and ashes, blown by the winds of time.

It is morbid, yet beautiful and sobering. So how shall we live life? Do we try our best to create an enduring mark in this world? What legacy do we want to leave behind? Grateful descendants who would continue the good name of the family and remember you fondly? And perhaps you'll be in heaven then, looking down and seeing everything with great satisfaction?

If that defines you, go on and pursue it with all the zeal, energy and passion that life has blessed you with. Live every moment to the fullest. To the caterpillar, heaven is an infinite expanse of green delicious leaves, where one could crawl and gnaw in content without fear of being eaten by birds. When they become butterflies dancing from flower to flower in the garden of paradise, will they remember their humble beginnings as slimy, crawling tubes of bird-feed?

Since we can't conceptualise what it is like after death, or if there's even a 'life' as we know it, then let's all be good caterpillars, gnawing gratefully on the leafy meal before us, creeping happily in our 2D world, oblivious to the predatory birds that swoop down on us from above. 

Misfortune, sickness and calamity could befall any one of us. The whole purpose of celebrating the Lunar New Year is to look forward to another year ahead that's hopefully free from such ill-luck. We can only have the moment we have now and every one of them has to be lived with positive optimism. The fact that you are aware and conscious of doing so, means that you are living life to the fullest. Is there any other way to live?

The challenge is that we are not aware of our every moment of existence. And that's when life becomes miserable. Here, look at this moment. Gone. And this moment. Gone. Are you alright? Are you at peace? If you are, clamp your mandibles on that morsel of moss and gnaw on.  

Never lose sight of moment at hand, for misery can only creep in whenever you take your eye off the ball. Hey, this moment is as good as any other. Live it first. Living it fully and wisely will bring forth better quality moments next. But there's no need to think too far ahead. Imagine that this moment is all there is. The next one is a bonus. Infuse this moment with every hope, fervour and passion that you could muster. You will find that they are the sauce and condiments that make this moment that perfect mouthful. 

The Source of Strength

I'm taking a break from work when most Chinese would be starting theirs after the long Chinese New Year break. Apparently today, the sixth day of the New Year is an auspicious day to open your business again for the Year of the Dragon. I'm looking forward to the long weekend and hopefully I'll still get to enjoy a less crowded city, at least for a day or two before the rest of the horde returns to the city, spent and satiated, after the week-long orgy of gambling and gluttony.

Gambling is a pleasure which I am fortunately, immune to. I understand that it can be very addictive. Some people can't resist food or liquor. I love both, but I'm not addicted to them. It is very liberating when one is not addicted to anything. But wouldn't life be very dull, without any kind of harmless 'vice'?

I do have my addictions too but I choose them very carefully. I'm addicted to books. What's the worse the could happen to someone who is an incurable bibliophile? I probably spend too much money on books and constantly complain that there's a lack of shelves to store them properly; curse whenever someone borrows or does not return, or worst still loses them; lament that there's a lack of time to read them all; suffer the sight of these beautiful tomes disintegrating under the ravages of time.  Well, it is suffering indeed, but it is suffering that I chose consciously as a kind of penance. 

Everything good in life comes with a price. I've mentioned before that the price of pleasure is pain. As Jerry Seinfield puts it insightfully in his interview with Howard Stone when describing how much of a torture it is to be constantly having to find materials for his jokes: one must find the torture that one is comfortable with, and that is your blessing in life. Work is a torture for some people but we get paid for enduring it. So learn to be comfortable with it. And if you have the right attitude, all that suffering makes you stronger and better.

When it comes to work, what we call experience is simply skills and reflexes honed by pain. Exercise is painful. But repeated practice makes you fitter. And you'll soon find yourself increasing the difficulty levels so that you may enjoy the satisfaction of conquering them. Ramp up the pain to amp up the pleasure. 

One must however know when this pain that we take on willingly becomes chronic stress. Nietzsche famously wrote "that which does not kill us makes us stronger".  That is only true when one fully recovers from whatever harm that is inflicted on our mind and body. Remember, one could also die from a thousand cuts. 

So one must be very wise in the frequency and amount of pain that one takes on. They have to be carefully chosen to bring the best returns. The body and mind must have time to heal and recuperate. When you give the body time to learn and deal with the pain, then only will it become stronger.  

Let us look forward to the Year of the Dragon and see every obstacle as an opportunity to become stronger. Let's take whatever pain that comes our way positively and enjoy the pleasures bestowed on us in moderation.  Let's all rise like dragons to its challenges and grow from strength to strength!

Unleashing the Dormant Dragon

The Chinese celebrate their new year today and it's the year of the dragon, a mythical creature that is much admired by them as a symbol of strength and greatness. The archetype of the dragon lodges deeply in the psyche of someone brought up within the Chinese culture. It defines his or her attitude towards life.

I've mentioned elsewhere before that the Chinese are masters of positive thinking. Darkness, gloom and melancholy are not 'romantic' to the Chinese mind. No, the offsprings of the Yellow Emperor do not like to wallow in defeat or self-pity; they are instead pragmatic, positive and progressive.  If Dostoevsky claims that the Russian soul is a dark place, then the Chinese soul would be its complete opposite.

The Chinese celebrates growth and expansion.  One has to be materially successful first before one can benevolent and charitable. Magnanimity is a natural by-product of worldly success.  A street-wise smartness is a virtue and pre-requisite to a bright future. The young must be hardworking, be respectful of elders and sifus, and be willing to take the necessary hard-knocks in life to move ahead.

The stereotype of the rag-to-riches Chinese business tycoon, exemplifies this ideal and is the pinnacle of what the Chinese considers a noble person in society. Success is always social and should be celebrated loudly and boisterously. 

Chinese New Year season is that time of the year when one is ambushed everywhere by the pounding drums of the lion dance or the loud crackles of firecrackers. 'Wake up from your gloom!', 'Join the march towards success!' 'Conquer the material world!'. It is in-your-face and unabashed. It is the secret of the community's success, wherever they choose to settle down in the world.

The dragon is the apt symbol of all this positive energy.  A dragon child embodies this potential for growth and expansion.  Nothing stops a dragon when it is set on something. Once someone has internalised the dragon soul, it is almost inevitable that something fruitful and positive will result. 

Unlike the fear evoked by the reptilian dragons of our evolutionary past mentioned in Carl Sagan's book, The Dragons of Eden, the Chinese dragon is the kundalini that lies sleeping in every soul. You just need to stir it, and off it goes to chase after its fireball of success.

There's a dormant dragon in each and every one of us. Like Daenerys Targaryen in Game of Thrones, If you know how to tame, control and ride your dragon, it is your greatest ally. But remember, one must always be its master not the slave. The role could so easily be reversed, if one is not vigilant. 

Monuments of Happiness

Today is an opportunity to catch my breath, after a hectic work-week. Last Saturday, I drove back to my hometown and stayed for a night. This weekend is a longer one for me because I'm on leave today. I spent the morning and early afternoon going to the supermarket and running other errands.

Here I am finally, in my abode of books in Cyberjaya, allowing my mind to rest, so that mundane thoughts fade away and deeper insights may surface. I 'recalibrate' my mind every day in my daily meditation. At the very least, doing a sanity check on all the thoughts in my mind is very helpful. I get to re-orientate myself in the right direction and ensure that I do not veer off into interminably unproductive mental side-roads.

As I write this, the sky is getting dark outside and I can hear the distant rumbling of thunder. There'll be an outburst of rain later, like most evenings during this time of the year. But the monsoon is coming to its tail-end and soon we'll be facing hot and dry weather. Another year gets on its way.

Before that, we'll be welcoming the Chinese Lunar New Year, which is a bit of a distraction at the beginning of the year, but nevertheless worth celebrating. That's how we humans live our lives--we celebrate the passing of the seasons and commemorate important events in our community.  So much of our happiness and sorrow comes from living in a society of people.

No two persons think alike. You could find friends who share many of your beliefs and norms, but if you've lived together in close quarters with anyone before, you would know that you'll have make a lot of adjustments to avoid unhappiness or conflict.

We have certain core characteristics that we stubbornly maintain throughout our lives and at the same time we also change in many aspects as we grow older. Pain and pleasure are the sculptors that mould us into who we are now.  

Our experiences in life is like the torrential rain that I see outside now, lashing onto the roof and walls of my apartment, testing their rigidity and sturdiness, probing for crevices to seep into, threatening to flood all the precious belongings that I have. 

We have to suffer a lot of pain to protect the things we love. That lesson has to be learned again and again. The unrelenting rain is constantly probing for weaknesses on my roof and if I am not vigilant, I will have to deal with roof leakages into my apartment again. To live is to delay the inevitable increase of entropy within the sphere of concern.

The body breaks down as we age. While we are healthy, we expend our energies building as perfect a life as we possibly could: a career, a family and a beautiful home. But all these are temporary manifestations that would ultimately dissolve as we grow older and die. We'll have to let them go, sooner or later. The Second Law of Thermodynamics that dictate the increase in entropy and hence the breakdown of all things would ultimately triumph.

Nevertheless, we should not be deterred. The moment we surrender, we cease to live. To live is to suffer these pains, consciously and stoically. We also enjoy the pleasures that come from having a world moulded to our vision, at least within our circle of concern, no matter how fleeting they are. 

We take what life throws at us bravely for that is the whole point of living. Every happiness in life is a monument to the pain that had to be endured to achieve it. Let's look back on all our monuments of happiness and know that they have to sit on a foundation of suffering.

The Insight of Ignorance

Back in my hometown this weekend and as always I end up rummaging through my old books and wandered down memory lane. It gladdens me to know that I've come a long way towards my childhood quest to understand the world. But I still have a long way to go.

The most important knowledge one needs to acquire is the knowledge of one's ignorance. We must know the limits of our own understanding. If we don't, we'll be trapped in a finite world of dogma, disguised as certainty. As a kid, I wanted to know about the origin of the cosmos, the fundamental nature of the universe and the ultimate purpose of existence. As I grew older, I gained some understanding in many of these areas and realised that there's so much more for me to tackle. The quest seems endless; one can never arrive at some definite endpoint.

But one should not despair because of that. Cliche though it may sound, it is the journey that matters. And as you gain more insights, your perception of the world shifts, opening vistas which you hitherto had not imagined. We are, what physicist Stephen Wolfram refers to as 'computationally bounded observers'. 

When we are perceiving the world, due to computational irreducibility, we can only perceive the universe in a very specific way. Our brains are finite computers--it will see only coarse-grained features. Our physical theories, will inevitably reflect our peculiar way of perceiving the world. 

I'd like to think that I've been expanding the computational capability of my brain since those teenage years of mine and at some point I will hit a limit. A computing brain within a computational universe can only, at best improve the language used to describe the workings of universe but it will still be finite. No language, even one like mathematics, can ever fully explain the universe.

It takes a certain wisdom to understand one's ignorance. And I'm happy to embrace the shallowness of my understanding. It is through this awareness of one's own stupidity that the boundary of one's intelligence can be expanded further.

We are trapped in this veil of ignorance simply because we are computationally bounded observers, embedded in a larger computational universe. The universe that we perceive, even with our best scientific understanding, is still only a parochial view of reality. But at the same time, we should not shy away from rejoicing in the fact that we are a natural consequence of how the universe is. 

Our existence is inevitable and once we are aware of our existence, we can reflect and track our evolving existence, using our finite computational ability. As all the ancient teachers have told us, an insight into our very own ignorance is the very key to enlightenment. 

Being Conscious

In a blog article posted in 2018, titled, System Administrator of the Mind, I wrote about how the mind is like a Unix operating system, with thoughts as processes running in memory. Meditation is the equivalent of typing "ps -ef", to list the processes running and if necessary, kill off unnecessary ones that are hogging resources.

People who have no introspective capability, are always operating in application mode. The main application that runs in our bio-computer is one called "Self" or "I". Any decision-making that our brains are concerned with are all at the application-level, of which the chief concern is the perpetuation and survival of the Self, which is a conceptual abstraction of the body and mind.

As a living biological system, we are concerned with the survival of the human body (the hardware) and mind (the software). The identity we have are our genes and whatever information that we have captured and integrated into our minds. Just like an AI model, our Natural Intelligence model has evolved through a lifetime of learning. I suspect, our knowledge-store is not simply limited to the neuronal structure of the brain but also in the body, in the form of bio-chemical processes, protein structure, the timing and sequence of genetic expression and also the microbiome. 

The Self is needless to say, "selfish". Every action that we do, is geared towards the preservation of our self-identity, which is nothing more than information. Theoretically, in the future, we can completely capture this information model which you call "I" and run it on a more a more durable computer. Like it or not, in a way, we are all simulations. 

If the Self is nothing but a stream of information, then is there no such thing as a "soul", which many religions belief is the underlying reality of our existence? Yes and no.  You see, the word "soul" is another abstraction. Just like "information stream" or "stream of consciousness" or even "consciousness". The moment we label anything, we are giving it a conceptual reality. As the Gospel of John so cryptically expressed, "In the beginning was the Word". When the Word is expressed, it immediately exists in a kind of Platonic realm--an abstract class, which can be implemented and instantiated in different substrate.

Maybe there is an ultimate reality which is the "Brahman", the substrate from which all concepts find instantiation. But the moment we say it, Brahman is conceptualised--there's a Subject-Object relationship, a Knower and the Known, a Seer and the Seen. 

So we have this primordial concept of a Self-the Atman, that is observing creation itself. That is the simplest and lowest level of conception--the 1-and-0 binary system that gives birth to the multiplicity of the universe.  The simplest thing that we can conceive of in our minds is a "Oneness" or a "Nothingness" or god-forbid,  "God". 

You know you are conscious. That in a way is the only thing that you "know". It is this conscious knowing that matters. When you meditate, you are simply experiencing consciousness as it is, without getting tangled up in all the different conceptual layers. We relinquish every possible category error, by recognising everything as they are. All thoughts, in the end are concepts--the multiplicity, resulting from the subject-object duality. 

Will you be conscious forever? Does this consciousness survive the material death of your body? Well, you'll find out when the time comes. If you are really conscious, you would not have anything to worry about.

The Arc of Karma

Tea on a Saturday afternoon in my apartment, with fingers poised over my keyboard. Here I am again, typing my blog article of the week. I'm slowly regaining my strength after recovering from my unfortunate bout of Covid-19. Writing, as always is relaxing and therapeutic and I'm happy to be typing away, trying to latch on to a topic to dwell upon this week.

When I think about all the strife that's in this world today, I often wonder why we humans never seem to be able to rise above our petty little squabbles and focus on things that really matter in life. I remember how historian Yuvah Noah Harari often talks about how important stories are to humans. We, for some reason, attach ourselves to particular narratives about ourselves, our community and our nation. 

Without the narrative of a story, we find life meaningless and aimless. So we live and die for stories. And the myths of religion become the pillars of our existence--something that we defend with our lives and squabble endlessly over.  The human mind only understands and responds to stories. Facts have to be presented as stories or they will never sink in. Legends and myths endure because it is the only mnemonic mechanism that works.

We enjoy ourselves by watching and reading fictional stories about people and places. We support our favourite soccer teams and buy in to the belief that there's a core philosophy in the way they play and what the management stands for. Companies try to create a corporate culture too. All such fictional stories help to bind a community together, without which, we do not seem to be able to be stirred into action.

Individuals too, attempt to build a story about their role in their community as a parent, a successful professional and contributing meaningfully to some cause in society. And that happiness is simply the realisation of such stories in their lives. Stories are the arc of our karma.

We want, we desire, we aspire. All these longings are couched in a neat story of existence, which drives our lives forward. We enjoy and suffer the ups and downs of this story-arc. We console ourselves by telling ourselves that the trough of suffering is worth it, because of all the peaks of happiness that we receive along the way.

All of us will transcend and grow out of this roller-coaster that we're on. And only then do we find liberation from the cycles of joy and suffering. Seeing things with equanimity is the first sign of maturity along this self-propelling train of life. 

Whenever we look at things with a dispassionate eye, we allow things to find expression in the most optimal way. There's no over-reaction to either the positives or negatives. We neutralise karma, simply by noticing and acknowledging every oscillation of our emotions. 

Take a hard look at yourself. What kind of story do you carry with you? What narratives in your life drive you forward? Whatever they are, they determine the pain and pleasure of your existence. 

We, cannot live without stories, but we can always find better ones. Good stories are like computer programs that execute the karmic purpose of your life efficiently.  So take control of your story and not let others define it for you. 

Thoughts in Isolation

"Reading made me a traveller; travel sent me back to books" 

- Paul Theroux

My year started with an unexpected setback: I tested positive for Covid-19 on the very first day of the year. I had awakened on Monday with a strange chill in the body and a feeling of tiredness. Aware that the number of infections have risen sharply recently, I proceeded to take a self-test and true enough, it was positive.

But since I work from home anyway, I continued working as usual and my productivity was not affected at all. My symptoms were mild and it was just slightly uncomfortable during the first 2 days. I had no fever at all but there's some irritation in my throat, which made it slightly difficult to talk in con-calls.  I feel back to normal now, after 6 days of isolation, but annoyingly I'm still testing positive.  No matter, everything I have is in my room--sufficient books to last years of continuous reading and a good internet connection. Can't think of anything else that I need. Secular sanyasins like me are an easily contented lot.

Yesterday, I decided to take leave and dedicated the whole day to reading--a luxury I've not had for a long time. Today, I'll simply do my usual Saturday routine, which is to blog and read a good short story. I have the practice of reading a short story every week; only one, so that I have the opportunity to reflect on it for the rest of the week. Last week, I was thoroughly entertained by Guy de Maupassant's Mademoiselle Fifi--another brilliant story (like his most famous one, Boule de Suif)  set during the Franco-Prussian war of 1870, involving a prostitute as the unlikely heroine. I have not decided what is this week's pick, but I usually try to choose a different author every week.  

My bedroom now is almost exactly the same size as the one I had rented in Singapore, when I was working there more than 2 decades ago. It was a second floor HDB flat located in Bishan, which I had lived happily for a number of years, doing a lot of work via my 4mbps ADSL connection. 

I used to work from home too, even then, as my job involved a lot of travelling and I rarely went to the local office.  My bedroom then was also filled to the brim with books that I had bought, mostly from Borders at Orchard Road. It is quite impossible to be unhappy, when one is surrounded by books.

Many decades ago, on my first business trip to Silicon Valley, I lived in a motel for at least a month in Palo Alto. I remember many beautiful quiet nights there reading hardcover books I had bought cheaply from a bookstore nearby--especially books on exploration like Pacific Passions and The Mutiny on the Bounty, which for some reason, I was obsessed with then.

Isolation has never been a problem for me, as long as I have something to read.  Long flights to and from the States had been great opportunities to finish entire books on a single journey.  Maybe that is why I actually have a preference for going on trips alone rather than with colleagues because I'd get a chance to read and reflect. 

Thinking back, I remember more about foreign cities which I had spent a lot of time alone in than those I had visited together with friends. For example, I can hardly remember anything about Honolulu, Lyon, Shanghai or Seoul because I had been carousing there with my colleagues during my trips there.

I agree with Paul Theroux that real travel is at best a solitary enterprise.  He refers to the "lucidity of loneliness" to capture unique insights about any particular place.  My wanderlust has waned considerably over the last decade or so, but my passion for reading had only intensified. Admittedly my reading has increasingly being augmented by technology such as audiobooks and videos, but they only enriched and expanded my reading experience.

Slowing down and isolating myself because of Covid-19 isn't such a bad thing after all.  I reconnected with my reading roots--to those wonderful days and nights I had as a child, reading in the garden amidst orchids and daisies under the blue sky, and later as an adult in tiny motels and luxury hotel rooms over the world, in slow-moving trains, in busy airport lounges and long interminable flights across the Pacific. Yes, thanks to Covid-19, I'm happily banished to isolation again with my books.

Meditations on Mortality

We are approaching the year's end and this my last blog article for 2023. I've been on leave for the past few days but I've also been spending time on work, diving deeper into an issue which I never had time to focus on. 

Yesterday, I visited a friend who was admitted to the IJN due to an unexpected heart attack. The news came as a shock to all of us. But I was happy that his situation has stabilised, even though he has to undergo an heart bypass surgery next week. My heart is with him as he navigates this hurdle, at this mature stage of his middle-aged life.

This incident made us all reflect on our mortality. I have done so before in past blog posts: Musings on Mortality and Walking Each Other Home, among others. During the Covid-19 pandemic, I lost two good friends unexpectedly to the disease. David recommended many good books to me and I still have a few of his in my possession (unlike me, who is a book hoarder, he loved giving away his books after reading them). Hengky, was a man of faith and I greatly admired his sincere devotion to his religion. 

Over the past few years, I also got to know that two of my childhood friends have passed on. I played soccer with Fauzi in my primary schooldays, and See Leng was a neighbourhood friend whom I had spent many beautiful days together playing all the games that kids used to play--marbles, kites, tops, yo-yo, skip-ropes, cards, carrom, ping-pong and Monopoly.

The fact that their memories live on in me is a testament to the fact that we all continue to live on and that life is not limited to our short biological existence. Forgive me for lapsing into New Age-speak: we are information and energy.  And once injected into the system, we would have changed, in our small way, the state of the universe. 

Every wave in the ocean affects and is affected by other waves, because we are part of this body of water. We must broaden our perspective on life so that we encompass the ocean, and not limited to that tiny wavelet which rises momentary, only to sink back into oblivion.

Each of us is a unique waveform, built from the superposition of many different harmonics. Every soul that we've come into contact with has injected their frequencies into our spectra. When we've radiated out all our energies, like the sun, we die. 

But our thoughts, ideas and deeds live on in the minds and bodies of the living. Every sentence that you read here, hopefully lodges in your mind and influences every word and action of yours. I live now in you, whether you like it or not.

All religions believe in an ultimate reality that exists beyond death.  We might argue over conceptual ideas like the existence and nature of the soul or whether there's a heaven or reincarnation but we cannot deny that, at this moment we are all conscious. I am conscious, therefore I am. But what is consciousness? Is it just the emergent property of any complex biological system? Or is it some kind of magic sauce that needs to be added to it?

Maybe consciousness is all there is and whatever we experience is just a manifestation or reflection of it. This is Advaita Vedanta at its purest. Waves have no separate existence apart from water. All forms are ultimately 'empty', as the Buddhist would say. We need to rise above the mundane experience of the ego and self, tied to the material body. 

At the close of another year, we meditate on the mortality of our human existence, so that we reinforce our deep-held intuition that we are beyond this illusory world of matter. And it is hoped that with each passing year, this veil of ignorance is removed, if ever so slightly, so that we may ultimately rest in our 'true nature'--whatever that is. 

In Praise of Idolatry

As we approach the Christmas weekend, I want to write something about God and its worship. I often use God metaphorically, when referring to the Ultimate Reality, the Truth or something like the Hindu's Brahman. I admit that I am more comfortable using more New Age-y terms like Eckhart Tolle's 'Now' or 'Presence' to express the spirituality within.

But today let me address the subject of the worship of a personal God--a ruler God who is also the creator of the universe and the judge of all our actions. Is that a naive belief? Am I against it?

As usual, when it comes to questions like these, the answer is always: yes and no. There's nothing unusual about the worship of a personal deity. You will be surprised that I'd even go so far to say that there's even nothing wrong with the worship of idols. 

The advanced spiritual seeker always look askance at those who are mired in ritualistic worship of various gods or deities. But the Bhagavad Gita has the clearest explanation on why the worship of the personal god is a legitimate and even the highest form of spiritual practice. In chapter 12, Lord Krishna explains to Arjuna that it is a more natural path compared to more 'advanced' ones like Jnana or Raja Yoga, which are more abstract.

To worship a personal god in the form of a deity in human form is a lot easier than to meditate on some abstract concept called Brahman or Emptiness or a formless God that reveals its essence through Nature, like Spinoza's God. The Christian doctrine of the Trinity - The Father, the Son and the Spirit is an attempt to capture all these different aspects of God in one.

We all know what it is like to love someone, even though mortal love is tinged with selfishness. But that is a good starting point. We love our partner, spouse, parents and children. The human mind has a natural ability to grasp objects that has a human face and form. To extend our natural ability to love another human being towards devotion to a supernatural one is simply applying a natural mental tool (or to use Daniel Dennett's term, an  'intuition pump') to grasp something higher. 

Our minds need an object to focus on. Every time we open our mouths, we immediately introduce a subject and an object. We cannot easily escape this dualistic conception of the world. Why fight it then? Start with an objective human God. When you express intense love towards someone, you'd see the object of your love, as a part of yourself. You break the subject-object duality through love. And that is the starting point of all spirituality.

When a kid first learns to ride a bike, he uses one with 2 additional training wheels attached to it. It helps him learn balance and after a while, those extra wheels can be removed and suddenly he is riding naturally with only two. The worship of a personal deity is exactly the same thing. 

We pour our love and devotion to the personal god in the form of an idol, which possesses all the good human qualities that we can identify with. That trains the heart to be selfless. After a while, that selfless love emanates naturally. Hold that deep devotional feeling and simply remove the idol. And voila!: You have a formless God.

But even an abstract, formless, all-powerful, all-merciful, one creator God is still an object. Call it what you will (read Whatchamacallit). Is this superior compared to worshipping a physical idol? Again yes and no. The idolator's pitfall is that he or she could be hung up on the minutiae of ritualistic worship and subscribe all sorts of superstitious beliefs that is attributed to a physical object. This hampers his spiritual development. 

The formless God worshiper, on the other hand, is susceptible to intellectual arrogance. Every little piece of philosophical doctrine is taken literally as some kind of legalistic truth that needs to be strictly adhered to. They argue endlessly over concepts that in themselves are nothing more than mental models of Truth. They fail to understand that an abstract God is still another intuition pump.

Ironically, the solution to spiritual arrogance is a humble dose of idol worship. Prostate yourself before the image of a human deity. Surrender yourself as a servant would to a master. That is the way to thaw that ego that has formed through your misguided sense of superiority. Then you would know that it's the combination of the heart and the mind that's the key to spiritual progress. 

Karma, Bhakti, Jnana and Raja Yoga--these are the physical, emotional, intellectual and spiritual paths towards enlightenment. Neither one is superior to the rest. Pursue all of them, and over time you will understand how they complement each other.

So, let's not look down on the idol-worshipper. Know that the human mind is naturally anthropomorphic. The simple ritual of clasped-hand prayer to a Saviour Lord, an offering of incense and flowers to a statue of the Goddess of Mercy or a prostration in front of a stone statue of Ganesha are all powerful exercises that strengthen one's spiritual muscles. Like any other human endeavour, perfection comes after repeated practice.

The Cosmic Compass

As always, before I begin writing my blog article of the week, I reread the previous week's one, checking for typos, missing words, the inevitable grammar mistakes and occasionally weeding out clumsy sentences. Most of the time, I end up with the feeling that what I wrote wasn't that bad after all.

I think most writers are the harshest critics of their own work. That critic is hard at work even now, while I'm typing these sentences ("you are rambling again". "Get to the point". "Make your sentences shorter". "That's another cliche!").  Often you end up feeling that you've produced something of questionable quality. But I've learned not to care. Having written something is better than not haven't done so. A blog article published is another hour of life well-lived.

To truly judge your own work, you have to let these critical voices fade away and then reread it again, as if you are reading it for the first time. Often, upon I rereading my previous week's work, I end up with a more sympathetic opinion.

One must learn to forgive oneself, to be able to forgive others. I see forgiveness as a way of clearing our own mental and emotional blockages. So much energy is trapped and wasted when we hold unhealthy grudges, disappointments or hatreds. Self-love is the beginning of agape.

Because I am another year older today, I also would like to review the past year of my life with understanding and compassion. All the ups and downs of life are but stress tests that expose our weaknesses. One should look at them with equanimity--like a scientist looking at data from his experiments. There are no failures in scientific experiments. Data that disproves your hypothesis are as welcome as those that support it. That's how I approach life.

When you experience the highs of success--critical acclaim, fame, a promotion, an award or any form of recognition, enjoy it. Allow yourself to bathe in the warmth of success. But never be attached to it. Any worldly acclaim should just roll off the surface of the soul, like water on a lotus leaf.

When one understands the limits of science and the human intellect, one grasps the immateriality of the world and sees that the world is but an illusory manifestation. All our physics only seeks to find better and better models of the universe and the models we create are but constructions of our limited minds. We rely on our intuitions to come up with new theories, which can then be verified by experiments. We think we live in space and time but that is just the best model of reality we have now. It may not be the most fundamental aspect of nature. 

Our spiritual impulses are constantly pulling us back towards the direction of Truth. But truth can only be approximated by human understanding. All the truths of the universe are already inside us, because we are a part of it. We just have to unveil the covering of our imperfects minds to reveal them. Learning is a process of adjusting the impedance of the mind, so that Truth radiates out in its full glory.

The mind is a manifestation of consciousness. That's a very Advaita Vedantic thing to say. But it is how I feel within. Wisdom, and if I'm allowed to use the over-abused word, Enlightenment, arises when we've made our minds clear and translucent, like the undisturbed surface of a pond, that is, when Patanjali's citta vrittis are quelled.

The worldly man thinks heaven as material pleasure-dome par excellence. The spiritual man knows that perfection is beyond any conceptual grasp and therefore seeks not to enmesh himself in materiality. Whether one is a monist, dualist or pluralists, we must understand that Nature is beyond words and concepts. All our word-play only serves as an imperfect compass, hinting towards the direction of true north.

With this cosmic compass we have within, we shall trudge ahead courageously, confident that we shall never venture too far off-course. And that's good enough. 

The Whatchamacallit

My pot of Earl Grey is settled on my table, being warmed by a glowing tea-light; I'm seated comfortably here in my apartment study, listening to some Nocturnes from Chopin playing in the background and I'm now ready to tackle my blog article of the week.

As we all cruise towards year-end, there's a more relaxed feeling in the air. Everyone is clearing their annual leave and I'm also doing the same, at most 2 days at time for I dislike long breaks from work. I like my current rhythm of work and play, juxtaposing 'dull' IT work with my other pursuits--art, literature, philosophy, spirituality, music and science.

Weekends are reserved for reading, writing and appreciating the finer things in life. When I look at my collection of books, it feels like I've already gathered enough provisions to last me through all the remaining winters of my life.  

And because I have so many areas of interests, knowing that time is finite, I try to stack my activities so that I can kill two, even three birds with one stone. To pursue my interest in writing and to indulge in my fountain pen hobby, I journal daily using one, while listening to some good music on Spotify. I focus on the works of a single composer every week. This week I'm getting acquainted with the piano music of Scriabin and I'm loving it so much.

Of course, listening to audiobooks is another good way of 'reading' while doing something else that does not require any mental effort. I do this every weekend on my walk and jog at the park. I've been working through a book by Douglas Murray over the past couple of weeks. While driving here just now, I was listening to lectures on the History of the Catholic Church from the Great Courses series. 

Even though most of my favourite activities are solitary, I also enjoy socialising with my friends. I try to catch up with them whenever I can. Which reminds me that I have a dinner with some of my university mates this Sunday and look forward very much to it.  

People are interesting because you can learn so much from someone's experience.  It is a good source of knowledge. Each one of us is a unique experiment. We find ourselves born with specific 'boundary conditions'. And that defines and limits the possible solutions to the equation of life.

The sky is getting darker and I'm certain that the heavens will be emptying out its contents soon with lightning and thunder as it does almost every other day this time of the year. It's actually my favourite time of the year--good for reflecting on the year that's ending and to plan for the coming one. The piston of time drives us forward relentlessly and we just have to ride along its forward momentum, putting its power to good use.

It doesn't look like I will dive into any deep topic today and I'm just happy to ramble on about anything that comes to my mind, and marvel at the miracle of writing itself.  I can see the vertical streaks of rain outside my window as I type this, enveloping me within a curtain of solitary comfort. Nature goes about its job, fulfilling the karmic life of water as it reincarnates as raindrops onto earth, to restart its long journey back to the heavens.

I'm no different from these water droplets, surging up the roots of trees and leaping off leaves, lifted up by the sun into the clouds. I'm reminded again by those magnificent lines from Dylan Thomas which had enthralled me in my youth: 

The force that through the green fuse drives the flower
Drives my green age; that blasts the roots of trees

Is my destroyer.
And I am dumb to tell the crooked rose

My youth is bent by the same wintry fever

When we see ourselves as part of nature, there's a certain transcendence that gives meaning to our existence, whatever meaning is. We partake in this cosmic dance that at once makes us both creator and creation, played against a larger canvas where the whole can only be comprehended by dissolving into its parts.

Philosophers over the ages have tried to articulate this mystery of existence and even the most inspired ones can only hint at. And as I write these sentences, I'm simply doing what I'm supposed to do, as dictated by the greater impulse of nature. 

And if you do chance upon these lines, maybe we could all marvel together at the beauty of it all. You and I connect now, and in that moment of contact, we catch a glimpse of the Infinite, the One, the Cosmic Mind, Brahman, Atman, Ishvara, God or Whatchamacallit. It doesn't matter.

The Garden Path of Language

Time to write! I've been late in posting my blog article this week because I had a social function yesterday--Saturday, my usual day for blogging. I came back rather late and was too tired to write. But it was great to be able to catch up with some old friends again. We are all trying to find meaning in our lives in some way and each chooses a path based on circumstance and fate.

Why are some of us Christians and others Buddhists, Hindus, Taoists or Muslims? Is one religion superior to another? In my case, I love all of the above and I try to be a student of them all. I've made my music-religion analogy many times in previous articles before. I appreciate many types of music and listening to many enriches my life considerably. But I will call out someone who thinks only his or her music is the only true one.

Why some of us prefer a particular music to another is akin to why we choose one religion over another. If you are Chinese and grew up in an environment where you're exposed to more Chinese music, that will inevitably influence your choice of music. Similarly with religion. 

And then each one of us has our own individual tastes. Religious text is like poetry. We respond to language differently, depending on our personality. Some prefers the language of love, others the dry but more precise language of logic. Which is why the Bhagavad Gita outlines the many paths towards enlightenment: karma yoga (action), bhakti yoga (devotion), jnana yoga (intellectual) and the raja yoga (spiritual) paths. 

I love all of them. But I also understand the pitfalls of each, if one were to think that any one of them is the only exclusive path. Often any religion is a mixture of all four. You would have a system of ethics that give you guidance over day to day action or conduct; some prayer and rituals which help to cultivate a devotional heart, some doctrinal philosophy to satisfy your intellectual doubts and curiosity and some mystical or contemplative practices such as meditation or silent retreats to awaken the divine spirit within.

To pursue any religious path, one must also understand the limitations of language. Again my music analogy comes in handy: the beauty of music is directly experienced. Any attempts to 'explain' why a particular piece of music is beautiful ultimately falls short. Religious texts seek to inspire rather than inform. All words are pointers to the truth. Not understanding this fact, leads to fanaticism.

"The Tao that can be spoken of is not the Tao". The first line of Lao Tze's Tao Te Ching basically lays done this basic truth about the limitation of language in expressing ultimate reality. "In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God". The first verse of the Gospel of John also alludes to this. "Word" here is translated from the Greek "logos", which also means "reason". The moment any ultimate truth is articulated in language, it is already a model, an imprecise pointer, a map and not the actual terrain itself. 

Emptiness is form, form is emptiness as the Mahayana Buddhists would tell you. Is the concept of emptiness a form of nihilism? No. It may appear so because, again we have to express things in language and language is also a kind of form that attempts to represent a truth. Which is why Buddhist philosophers like Nagarjuna uses the language of negation to express what's actually there.

In Nagarjuna's Madyamaka school of Buddhist philosophy, the tetralemma involved in every proposition is denied. Let's say someone asserts that 1. there is a self.  The answer is no. If so, then can one conclude with lemma 2: There is no self? The answer is also no! Then, what about 3:  there is both self and no self. No again!  And finally, in exasperation, we say: there is neither self nor no self. Nagarjuna says no, that is also not true!. What's left of all these negations is the best approximation of the truth, which is the essence of Nagarjuna's Middle-Way. 

Zen masters also tries to dislodge their students from the grip of conceptual language thinking using koans. Truth can only be realised by transcending language. At the meantime, we will still talk, write and reason as much as we can, so that we get a glimpse of the Truth. But don't get too hung up on them.  The large language models, LLMs, derived their intelligence from language itself. We know how that sometimes lead to hallucinations. But even hallucinations can be useful pointers to the truth as they reveal the nature of the model itself.

The world we experience is maya or virtual. But it is also our instrument for inferring the truth. Our sciences, built using the precise language of mathematics have been able to penetrate the secrets of nature beyond our wildest dreams, and continue to do so. The scientists know the limitation of their mathematical models and are constantly on a lookout of better ones.

Beautiful though the existing paths are, we must not be seduced by them. If we are not vigilante, language, concepts and religious doctrines could lead us down that garden path.

Embracing Beauty

This is a week for socialising! I've chosen to go on leave starting today, which is Thanksgiving Day in US, and usually a quiet day at work. I have many social activities lined up for today, tomorrow and Saturday. 

I'll be catching up with my old Indonesian colleague W. later who is on a business trip to KL. We used to go out together a lot to Kota, Jakarta's bustling Chinatown during those good old days. The challenge for many of us these days is finding time and inclination to meet up with friends. Everyone has family responsibilities and these usually take priority. But it's important to meet up with old friends every now and then as it gives us a chance to rediscover who we are and how far we've come.

I'm not the type who would harbour regrets in life for I do not think we'll ever know which path we took would have turned out best. In life, we do not get to conduct control experiments: like "let's take path A and then path B with exactly the same starting conditions and see how they both unfold". If we had chosen path B and some bad outcome happened, how would we know that path A wouldn't have been worst?

Life is a complex system. Small changes now could lead to unexpected outcomes further down the road. We are all interconnected in a nexus of forces that play out unpredictably. We can only judge every moment based on immediately available fact, some which we are conscious of, many which we aren't. Many scientists and philosophers would even say that whichever choice we make, we have no control over the matter. There is no free will.

So my philosophy is to embrace the totality of every moment. There's no good or bad experience, but I know every experience contributes to my learning. My goal is to continuously train my NI (natural, as opposed to artificial intelligence or AI) model so that it performs better and better over time.

Emotions come from the bio-chemical reactions in the body.  Drugs can easily induce a feeling of wellbeing, happiness and love. If we have the right NI model, such states can also arise easily. Sometimes, a negative feedback loop of information can drive a model towards a state akin to depression. It's all up to us. What kind of information do we choose to consume and how do we consume them wisely, given our knowledge of the human body and mind?

There are many recommended paths laid out for us. Religion is the most prominent one. It is the easiest course to follow because its contents are rich and layered enough to provide something for everyone. It can satisfy the ritualistically inclined masses and the high-brow mystics and philosophers. 

When we follow a well-travelled path like religion, we feel secure and reassured. Finally, you have a map that lays out a path ahead for you and you are confident that it is the right one because so many have travelled the path before. Every fibre in your body also says so, because its religious tenets have awakened something in you. You have become a believer and how utterly sure you are that whatever you feel so right in your bones is the ultimate truth!

I love Jazz. But I also love baroque, classical, keroncong and popular rock music.  Do I think there's only one school of music that's the true music? Most certainly not! One deprives oneself of many beautiful aural experiences in life, if one were to be dogmatic about music. Similarly with religion.

I always think it is stupid to argue over which religion is the true one. Religious supremacists are ignorant of the beauty and vastness of human spirituality. Neither do I think that all institutionalised religions are the same. There's good music and so-so music. But the impulse to make music is a universal one. And that's what interests me most. Where does it come from? Is it a spandrel of evolution?

Purist Jazz lovers will think Fusion Jazz is bad. They are like religious fundamentalists. To me the evolution of religious beliefs is inevitable. It is like language. Teach English to a remote tribe and they will naturally develop their own slang and pidgin version of the language, spoken in their unique accent. Music, language and religion--they are all socio-cultural artifacts, the products of being human. 

Every time I listen to Bach, I would ask myself: isn't this the most beautiful music in the world? It feels like an awakening, like falling in love. It would be a problem if I were to stop there and just listen to Bach all my life, thinking that it is the ultimate music. There are different types of music out there that are beautiful in different ways. 

Life, put simply, is a process of embracing all the beauty that's out there in the world. Let's not be naively enthralled with just a single manifestation of it. The act of embracing is what makes life beautiful. 

Hope and Hallucinations

What a challenging week it has been! There was a very difficult technical problem which I inherited but I was relieved that I managed to find a solution for it. I've always practiced gratitude in everything I do, and I am grateful this time that I did not run out of ideas to pursue. By getting the ego out of the way, ideas will always flow. That I must always remember.

Today is my chance to catch my breath a little and relax with some quiet written words. I see a lot of people getting all worked up by news and events that are happening in the world. I see everything with a bit a equanimity, listening to both sides of the story. I do not have any desire to indulge in virtue signalling. Having built a thriving social media service before, I have no desire to dwell in that world anymore. 

I'm still that old-fashioned bloke typing text into an outdated blogging platform, something I've been doing for 20 over years now. This blog is a record of my intellectual development over the last two decades. When I first started blogging in Jakarta, I did it mostly from an Internet cafe which I frequent on a daily basis because the only other alternative was using a slow modem dialup from my hotel room, which I did occasionally.

What happy days those were, living alone in the heart of Jakarta, within walking distance of good street food along Jalan Sabang, a good bookstore, the now defunct QBWorld, and a grand cinema, Theatre Jakarta.  Food, books and movies are what I live on. Can't think of anything more in life that I need!

I am grateful for what I have and had. I treat every experience in life as an opportunity to learn, as another set of data to improve my natural intelligence model. We learn the same way as those AI LLMs that are changing every aspect of our lives. People say that these LLMs are still imperfect because they have a tendency to hallucinate. But they forget, people also hallucinate all the time!  How many times have we encountered people who speak with false certainty about subjects that they have scant knowledge of? Isn't our susceptibility to conspiracy theories a form of hallucination too?

At least ChatGPT has the decency to apologise and correct itself whenever you point out its errors. How many times have you seen people doing that? If only everyone has the same balanced and measured response on every subject that ChatGPT has, the world would be a much better place!

The only difference between my brain and these LLMs now is that, mine lives in a body that moves around in the world, constantly absorbing new data and input. Whenever someone talks to me, I do not only receive word prompts, I also get visual, auditory, tactile and chemical ones. Even with these advantages,  I still cannot come up with better answers than ChatGPT. And I am often wrong too. So let's have the humility to accept that we too 'hallucinate'.

It is important that we feed our brains with good quality information, like how we try to consume nutritious food for health. Today, we are lucky that quality content is cheaply available everywhere. It is up to us to feed ourselves wisely and improve our own natural intelligence models. ChatGPT and other LLMs will be continuously improving over time. AI models are the ingenious products of human intelligence, which ends up augmenting our own in return. 

Our future depends on how well we assimilate new technologies into our lives, for the betterment of humankind. And key to that is the ability to break out of bad thinking habits, superstitious dogmas and our primal tendencies towards violence, territoriality and sexual dominance. Yes, there's still hope for the world if only we humans know how to break out of our mass hallucinations.

The Engine of Joy

I am a creature of habits and I love my daily routines. We all know that habit stacking is a useful way to build a new habit. Everyone has many daily tasks that are already ingrained: things like brushing one's teeth, toilet and bathing. Why not use them like pegs to hang on fresh new habits?

To build a new habit, you just tag an additional task to an existing one so that the incremental effort of performing it just gets carried along easily by the existing routine. Daily, weekly and monthly routines are like the piston movements of a four-stroke engine. Once the engine is started, you have that regular supply of energy to power anything. Why not a new habit? As long as you align them along the momentum of your existing actions, it will move forward.

So I meditate before I brush my teeth, read while I'm in the toilet and listen to the day's news in the shower.  I journal and listen to some classical music or jazz just before showering again at the end of the day. In bed, I read a poem before succumbing to sleep. I find poetry very relaxing as it is like music--there is no plot or information that the writer is attempting to convey, only an experience. Words are used in novel ways, triggering new associations of ideas and images in the mind. There's nothing to figure out--only the beauty of words in themselves. It's the perfect bedtime balm.

This is my daily cycle of tasks. And then there's a weekly one too. Blogging comes at the end of the week, as a kind of reflective and creative exercise, helping to assimilate my thoughts and integrate everything I've learned over the week. I write so many emails daily, spouting cliche phrases most of the time that being able to blog at the end of a hectic work-week on any topic of my interest, feels extremely liberating. Here I get to expound on anything that strikes my fancy. And I'm comforted by the fact that no one is reading this. 

I have other weekly habits. Exercise is one of them. Tagging on to it is my opportunity to listen to my audiobook while I'm doing that. Habits that kill two birds with one stone are the best. One can stack habit upon habit until one's live becomes a rich, productive and healthy one, automatically. 

Dread your Monday blues? Make it interesting by turning it into a meatless one. I've practiced being a weekly vegetarian for more than a decade now. Meatless Mondays save me the trouble of figuring out what and where to eat. It's something I look forward to on the day of the week, because I get to eat something different and it feels like a clean and healthy diet reset.

Time is the fuel that powers our habit engine and propels our life forward. We just have to design an architecture around it that taps onto this powerful source of energy.  Do not waste time lamenting how time flies. Open up your sails and let its winds drive you forward. The result is a self-running engine that produces joy. 

Confessions of a Book Junkie

Today, I'm comfortably seated at the O'Brien's Cafe, having a nice pot of hot Earl Grey while munching my tropical salad. It has been a full 5-day week for me as I did not take any leave. Next coming 3 weeks, I'll take my Fridays off as I have a lot of leave to clear before year-end.

I've been doing a lot of reading, despite my heavy work schedule. I treat my readings as meals, making sure that I have a healthy diet of fiction, non-fiction and poetry. I cannot imagine a life without books and looking back, reading has been the enduring constant in my life.

I am lucky to have grown up in a household filled with a reasonable amount of books. I know my father was fond of books, even though he did not spend that much time reading them, preferring the accessibility of the daily newspapers. 

Like most kids during my time, I was recommended by the elders to read children's adventure stories by Enid Blyton, but unfortunately I was never fond of them. I found them too mild for my taste: preppy British schoolkids holidaying in a castle and stumbling onto some kind of mystery, was a big yawn to me. My taste was slightly more 'mature'--I preferred adult stories of spies and espionage, even though I was actually too young to really understand the Cold War and the political background of these tales.

I was a huge fan of James Bond and watched every single one of Connery's and Moore's depiction of the character in the cinema. At the age of 11, I read my first James Bond novel--The Man With the Golden Gun. It was anthologised in one of those delightful hardcover Reader's Digest Condensed Books series that were immensely popular then. My dad had a subscription for it, and kept them under lock and key inside a glass showcase, and all I could do was gawk at this splendid display of volumes. 

I would spend my days just reading the intriguing titles I could see on the spine of these books. Titles like Fate is the Hunter, All Men Are Lonely Now, The Days Were too Short, Airport, The Spy Who Came In From the Cold, To Kill A Mockingbird, I Take This Land, Mistress of Mellyn, Naked Came I, and many other titles of bestsellers masterfully condensed by the good folks at Reader's Digest. 

There were like 5 condensed novels in each of these hardcover volumes and each story contained wonderful illustrations by a different artists--a main one for the title page and interspersed within the text, illustrations of key scenes in the story.  Later when I was allowed access to these books, I would spend hours poring through every illustration. To me the art themselves were worth the price of the book. I was thrilled and inspired to see the many different styles of different artists, ranging from pen sketches to impressionistic and photorealistic ones, done using various mediums. I learned so much about art from these illustrations themselves.

I remember Irving Stone's The Agony and the Ecstasy--a fictional biography of Michelangelo as being very inspiring to me. I even devoured The FBI Story, a non-fictional story about the founding and history of the FBI. With my then limited vocabulary and understanding of world affairs, I barely comprehended its content but I took pride in being able to hold a thick hardcover book in my hand like and being able to pore through every single word and sentence which the author wrote. My lack of comprehension did not deter me. What's important was that I was bona fide book reader!

As I grew into my teenage years, I went through an Alistair MacLean phase, where I devoured most of his published fiction. Many of his titles were adapted into blockbuster movies, notably The Guns of Navarone and Where Eagles Dare. My favourites were the lesser known ones like Night Without End and The Satan Bug which was published under his pseudonym, Ian Stuart. 

When I progressed to my upper secondary school, I started devouring more non-fiction and even serious works of literature. I imagined myself Pip in Dicken's Great Expectations and later in the year 1984, I read George Orwell's book of the same title, which he wrote in 1948, about a dystopian vision of the world 36 years' in the future. 

Later, a series of influential popular books on science, religion and philosophy set me off then on a path which determined most of my reading diet for my adult years: The Dragons of Eden by Carl Sagan, The Tao of Physics by Fritjof Capra, The Dancing Wu Li Masters by Gary Zukav and Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance by Robert M. Pirsig.

Other memorable milestones of reading during my early years of adulthood include Kundera's The Unbearable Lightness of Being, Marquez's Love in the Time of Cholera and A History of God by Karen Armstrong.  And that was just the beginning of my reading journey. I have amassed a huge amount of books which I've yet to read, but hopefully I am able to tackle them within my lifetime. 

What an inexhaustible source of pleasure reading is! I do not really read to better myself, even though, I'm certain that all my years of reading had made me more aware of my many flaws. Instead I indulge in it unashamedly, purely as a hedonistic act. I certainly make no apologies for it. It is my drug of choice. And I'm comforted by the fact that, with some amount of confidence, that my supply of books will never ever run out. 

The Experience of Existence

I've been thinking a lot about the mind, as usual.  But who is it that's doing the thinking? Isn't it the mind itself? Isn't this a hopelessly recursive process, like trying to capture the image of a mirror with another mirror, only to see an infinite regress of reflections?

That is why the so-called "hard problem of consciousness" is so difficult to solve. We can figure out the easy part--mapping the functions of consciousness to its physical processes, which is what neuroscientists have been doing diligently. But the hard problem of consciousness is trying to understand the subjective experience of the mind. What is it like to be a bat or to be you? Why should I trust you when you say that you are conscious? I can never experience what you experience now, reading these words. 

I myself am claiming that I am conscious, because I have the illusion of agency and an experience of selfhood who is the initiator and writer of these sentences. The motor movement of my fingers stem from an intent from my conscious mind, or does it?

Do I even have a choice as to what I'll be typing? Words emerge out of the void and are being manifested here on this blog. What makes anyone think that it's a conscious choice of my mind? I don't have control over what thought would come over me next. I could decide to take a bathroom break or take another sip of my Earl Grey. Who decides that? Me?

Maybe not. Maybe free will is an illusion, like what many philosophers and scientists say. I'm alright with that. I would like to imagine myself to be a river, just flowing along, obeying the laws of physics. All spiritual traditions advocate some form of living akin to this. It's living in the Now, as Eckhart Tolle would put it, or doing God's Will, as the monotheists would prefer to see it.

The terrorist on a suicide bombing mission would also claim that he is doing God's Will. How different is that from the hippie meditator who claims to commune with the divine on a psychedelic trip? Are not both attempting to tap into the natural flow of the universe, which we claim has its innate wisdom?

I guess, the essential attitude to have in pursuing any religion or spiritual practice is to have a sense of humility. Never latch on to certainty. The religious extremist on a suicide mission has a fixed ideology in his mind: that life transcends this mortal body and there's a hereafter where the real reward awaits. Well, that could be true as no one has gone there and come back to tell the tale. 

I don't give too much credence to near-death experiences about seeing angelic beings or bright lights at the end of the tunnel. So what? We see all sorts of magical worlds on an LSD trip. Is that real, or is it just the mind trying to interpret particular patterns of firing in our neurons? We will always see faces or creatures in the shapes of clouds or in the configuration of stars in the night sky. The mind is a pattern recognition system, honed by evolution. We can't see the world any other way.

Well, for all we know, life might extend beyond the horizon of this material existence. That'll be great. But I suspect, the 'you' that inhabits this body, will not see it in the same limited way that you see your world now. Heaven will not be you having wine and caviar in an opulent palace. Thinking about pleasure as simply that is just a reflection of our lack of imagination. Imagination itself is what we could construct with building blocks and patterns that our mind already knows--the pleasures of food, sex and kinship with other beings. Pleasure is just another series of neural-chemical processes happening in the brain and body. 

Whenever I browse a website, I would imagine HTTP requests being sent out and HTML code code being returned with status 200. To the browser, that is 'pleasure'.  A need is satiated. But HTTP requests and responses are abstractions of the application layer of the TCPIP stack. There is no such thing as a request or response, only data packets with bits and bytes being shuffled around by routers. 

Even packets is another layer of abstraction. They are real only if you are an entity living in layer 3 of the stack. And ultimately, it's just energy pulses being transmitted across space through photons or electrons, which again are also abstractions, called 'particles'. Our minds are only capable of thinking about objects that we have seen or touch--billiard balls, sand and waves in the sea. Hence all our models of the world is based on a very limited human vocabulary.

So let's have a sense of humility whenever we proclaim the ultimate truths of any insight that come from our human mind, whether they are the products of reason or divine vision. Ultimately, everything reduces to another experience of existence. And that's all there is.