Searching of Self.

Young Israelis are leaving their high-paying technology job to "embrace a simpler, healthier lifestyle" and "in search of self."

Mr Goshen, a graduate of Israel's prestigious Technion Technological Institute, made that change to become a deliveryman for organic basket of fruits and vegetables because "his boss called him at home one evening and berated him for not devoting himself sufficiently to his work - even though he was putting in at least 50 hours a week."

At 37, Mr Goshen is married with three kids, but he is happy to have left his job. The stress is just unbearable. 

Another young employee, Mr Barkat, 29, left his lucrative management job in a financial information company to set up his own chocolate business. 

He said: "At age 24, I had achieved what adults spend their entire lives to achieve: steady, prestigious, well-paid work. But my work was very technical, boring, meaningless. I asked myself, "Where do I go now?"

Lesson? I wonder, what does one mean when he says that he is searching for self? 

In an article yesterday on stress of our students here, one eleven year old said: "I know studying is good for us. It is supposed to help train our brains. If we don't study, we will become mindless zombies walking around." 

I guess the search for self follows the same logic, that is, we will remain as mindless zombies walking aimlessly around if we have yet to settle down to know who we are, what we want to do and how we want to do it. 

But can our search for self be separated from the responsibilities that we carry with us as an employee, a husband and a parent? 

At some point in our life, in the normal run of things, we will find a job, get married and parent a child or two. Our life will follow that archetype script whether we like it or not. 

Quite unavoidably, there are a few transformative crossroads in life. When we pick up one end of the marital stick, we are bound to pick up the other end of spousal responsibility and parenthood. 

And when we pick up one end of the career stick, we are again bound to pick up the other end of sacrificing to make ends meet. 

What does the search for self mean then as a husband, father or a human being? Can the search be done separate and apart from our roles in society? 

Ultimately, we have to find fulfilment in whatever roles we play in family, work and society. We may not be wealthy or famous performing those roles but that is never the point or endgame, right? 

Surely, fulfilment has to be more than endless acquisition just so as to see who dies with the biggest toys to be displayed at one's wake right?

In the end, we have to come to a point to admit that there is a goldilock zone where our search for self finds contentment and fulfilment in our roles as a husband, father/mother and breadwinner. 

It will definitely be different for different individuals with different temperaments, ambition and personalities. 

We are all held accountable to ourselves and our loved ones to make the best use of our potential or gift and to pursue them within our means and abilities. 

Some will be wealthy pursuing their dream. Others will be less so fulfilling their roles. But the common thread in our search for self is not what we pile up exteriorly, but what we build within us, internally. 

So, finding ourselves within the roles we play in family and society is about being content in what we have achieved so far, investing in ways to improve ourselves, fortifying our character against temptations, holding on to values beyond the superficial and giving what we can to assist another in his or her own path of growth and success. 

And in all that, rejoicing in hope, faith and gratitude.

Such journey takes a lifetime, and the difference it makes usually lasts a lifetime. Cheerz.

Contentment is priceless.

When will we ever be happy? Every morning we get up from bed, clean ourselves up and go to school or work and return home with family to have a warm meal. We eat well, travel well and for most of us, sleep well. When will that be enough?

It is said that we have progressed into the 1st World economy with one of the highest per capita nominal GDPs at $53k (US is $56k and China only $8.3k), and with all the creature comforts we can ever imagine, yet we are living through one of the most unhappy, emotionally unsatisfied period of our times.

Is this the age of great wealth as well as the age of restless discontentment? The age of abundance as well as the age of abandon?

The Straits Times a few weeks ago was a juxtaposition of two news: War-torn Syria (by Janice di Giovanni) and a local report entitled "Couple living in lorry finally move into flat" (by Teo Sam Jo). Both news reminded me about finding contentment in the simplest joys in life.

The first article entitled "Frozen life in wartime Syria" is a sad tale of absolute deprivation, sheer disappointment and lost hope. One suffered said: "I have not seen or eaten a tomato in a year." And he continued that "there are children who have been born in these five years who don't know the taste of fruit."

Thus far, in these five years, 470,000 have died and "nearly five million refugees; some six million displaced inside the battered country." That's about the size of our little red dot.

The writer reports that there is "hardly any vegetables, or flour to make bread. Some people make thin, tasteless soup from parsley, watercress and lettuce."

She continued with this depressing soliloquy: "After a while, you forget the book you were reading when the war started, or the love affair you had just ended. Your life is out on hold. With a terrible nonchalance, you get used to the sound of bombs falling. This is the background music in which we live our lives...Something else happens, as well, when wars continued for too long. The rest of the world grows tired of the photographs of the dead, the smashed hospitals and destroyed schools, tired of statistics on hunger and rape and how many shells have landed in civilian areas. Five years deadens compassion."

The second tale is about contentment personified in a couple who have spent nearly two years living in the back of a lorry. The husband is a rice deliver man and his wife a Vietnamese. They are expecting a child this August and they have just successfully applied for a rented two-room HDB flat. He said, "We were really happy when we got the keys."

They were tender and loving to each other and he was caressing her belly during the interview. Although he had no savings and some have offered to help, he nevertheless said: "We appreciate the thought. But there will still be expenses like milk powder after the baby is born. We can't keep taking money from others."

All they want now is a healthy baby and a permanent roof over their head. He said, "We want to buy a three-room flat, so he (baby) can have his own room. But for now, this is more than enough for both of us."

Lesson? I recall yesterday evening. I recall fetching my 6-year-old from childcare. She bounced into the car and rushed up to me shouting, "Daddy, daddy, look, look, I made this...look!" I paid scant attention, forced out a smile and muttered, "good, nice."

I admit that I was a bit annoyed that she had distracted my train of thought. I was on a one-track mind worrying about my children's future. How will they cope in this world? Will they do well in school? Will they be happy?

Then, this morning, after reading the news, I realised I have missed the moment, or the many moments even unknowingly. I have missed the simplest joys of life. It is ironic that I worry about whether they will be happy when I myself am struggling with it while they are just happy regardless.

In fact, if anything, my children and many others who have little and own nothing that they can boast about have taught me what enduring contentment means. It is definitely not a means to an end. Contentment is not a goal to be achieved at the end of a frantic race-rat like happiness is not a search or pursuit till we are spent, jaded or exhausted.

Contentment is not the security that comes with a show of who is richer, we owns more, who is smarter, who is humbler, who is more right (or righteous), and who is more successful. All that have its place (except for "righteous") but they cannot and ought never to take the place of the simplest joys in life that no money can ever hope to buy.

These joys are in the ordinary moments we slog all day to preserve only to offer the sun-set of our energy and passion to them when they avail themselves to us. The moments are captured in the faces of our kid, the time spent with them, the bedroom tickles, the kiss we plant on our spouse, the holding of hands, the whispers of sweet-nothings, and the silly jokes we share and laughing together not because they are silly, but because we are together.

Let me end by saying that contentment is not about how much we do, how much we make or how much we achieve. It is simply about how much we love, how much we pay attention, and how much we care. They are easily affordable and accessible. Alas, we always mistake what is free to worth little or nothing. But for those who offer such priceless moments to us, it means everything to them. And whether we know it or not, it is everything we will ever need and that should be more than enough for us. Cheerz.

The best thing that never happened to me.

I went to MPH recently and saw a novel's title that caught my attention. On its front cover, it reads: "The best thing that never happened to me." Granted some indulgence, I would like to answer that title with two "best things" that never happened to me. This is personal to me and may seem to be contrarian in logic. So here goes.

1) The best thing that never happened to me is to have unimaginable wealth and fame. And I am rather thankful it never did and here's why.
 I know the saying that it is often those who are struggling in life that decry riches and fame. It is sort of an envious/jealous/self-defeating complaint. I call it the sour-grapes syndrome. 

Well, there is some truth in that. I am no doubt struggling in some existential way but I choose to believe that it is a forward-driving struggle. If anything, it is the good struggle. As for the envious and jealous bit, it is not devoid of any truth either. I do sometimes make the comparison and stew in less 
than complimentary ways. If envy rots the soul, then my soul is part-rotting and part-overcoming. If stupid does as stupid does, then human does as human does too and I am no different. 

Having come forward with my flaws, here's my point. Riches and fame are the best thing that can happened to anyone, period. Who can dispute that? Only the self-righteous fool would I guess. But what if it is not that simple? What if riches and fame bring with them more than one can handle? Well, for one thing, I would at this  moment not know and may not ever know. And there are no doubt rich and famous people out there who are making a positive difference in this world. 

But to me, riches and fame are highly transformative. They can be empowering and corrupting at the same time. While I am writing this holding my prejudices close to my chest, I am well aware of how riches and fame can change this world for the better. Honestly, I can only speculate how a rich and famous me would end up. My fear is embodied in this reply by Gandhi 
when he was once asked, "What if you were granted the power to change the world?" And he said, "I would immediately ask for the power to renounce that power." And we all know that with power comes riches and fame. 

I think Gandhi has got a point in that reply. He is talking about the emotional/spiritual entrapment that comes with de facto omnipotence. With riches and fame, we may wilfully erect a prison of our own making while overestimating our power to breakout from it. In any event, 
aren't we often least prepared for the things we thought we are most prepared for? 

Riches and fame are the emotional beasts of the most sublime cultural creation. They can give power to you when you want it only to deny you the same power to deny it when you need it most. And you need it most when your "wants" mutates into a form of self-corruption and what you need is the self-discipline to rein in this runaway beast. Alas, it is my humanity that desires what my own humanity may find 
most trying to tame. And for this reason, riches and fame are the best thing that can happen to me, which at the same time restrains me because it may not be what I hope it would be when I come full circle. The whole process may be self-sabotaging. Logical? 

This may be an exercise in pretentiousness on my part but as of now, in my current station in life (married with 3 children), I am no doubt charmed (or seduced) by the idea of being rich and famous but am at the same time treating it with suspicion that it may just be too good to be true. So, I am nevertheless thankful for what I have today because I'd rather be free knowing I have enough than not ever knowing what it means to be free when enough is never enough.

AND

2) The best thing that never happened to me is a better marital partner. The contrarian logic gets even weirder here so strap up. And this is the tricky bit because I am clearly married with three offspring I can't live without. I renounced my singlehood 15 years ago (and still counting). I may not be alone here but I suspect that there are married men out there who have secretly and discreetly wished at some point in their marriage that they had married someone else - if they are blatantly honest of course.

Wait, this is not an indictment on their stellar marital 
record of faithfulness and devotion. In fact, I would not be surprised if their wives had at some point in their marriage felt the same way too (blatant honesty cuts both ways). But I guess compelling love and personal civility prevented them from full and candid disclosure. Some secrets naturally die with us because without them, our funeral would be less of a "happier" occasion. 

So, I can easily imagine a better marital partner from my current wife. Underscore "better". For reasons of privacy, I shan't 
disclose here what qualities my hypothetical "better partner" would have that my current wife doesn't have. And I suspect the feelings are discreetly mutual. She would want a better partner too. You see, the childhood idealism in us dies hard and many of us can't honestly say that we have married our soul mate except to take that profession at face value. Soul mates are more the exception than the rule. For the rest of us, marital reality sometimes gnaws with passing time. 

But here is my point and it comes with unapologetic idealism. I married 
the first girl I fell in love with. It was like I threw in the bait and she happened to be swimming nearby. And without examining the bait, she swallowed it hook, line and sinker. Lucky throw I guess. We have issues no doubt. We are still dealing with them in our own way. 15 years and counting may be a long time from the perspective of an unmarried person but marriage is a time-distorting prism and one brief year under one roof may just feel like five long ones. You do the maths with 15 years. 

So, this journey is long if one has no plans to pack 
up and switch ride. And love is often a local anesthesia which somehow numbs the heart at the altar and its effects fade off fast after the honeymoon period is over. Painful adjustments aside, my wife and I are in this together. This is our covenantal commitment. And if there is any change that I need to make, it is not a change of partner but a change of self. A better marital partner may be the best thing that never happened to me, but still I would not trade my wife for anyone else. Why? 

For the 
simplest reason that the prospect of betterment is not a prospect that I relish if it is not with someone whom I had courted for 9 years, married for the last 15, started a family for the last 12, gone through much together and understood even more, and most of all, shared intimacy in a way that I can't imagine with another. 

You can say that I'd got the first mover advantage. This is not a matter of semantics but it is a matter of devotion and passion because my wife is not replaceable. Our experiences are 
not reproducible. Our passion is not reducible. Our struggles are therefore intimate only to us. In the end, she is unique and I choose to believe that I am unique to her too. This is an immutable fact of our relationship that no amount of going back to the past can change. 

If anything, it would be a different partner, better maybe, but never the same. "Better" is a relative term here prejudiced by my own current subjective experiences. See, I told you, contrarian logic because the heart has its reasons of which reason knows nothing. And most of all, with bias in my heart that may be identified as passion, commitment and devotion, this 
"better partner" would just not be the Anna whom I love. Period. Cheerz.

Facing Reality

Facing reality can be hard for some people. Although it doesn't help to say that I understand, I understand nevertheless. I know that your grim reality drains you. It sucks you dry. It leaves nothing but visceral dread behind. It is difficult to face them because you don't see much hope of ever overcoming it. You just don't have the strength. You just don't see the point. Here are some raw realities I have encountered (or read about) in my life.

There is the tormented wife and the reality of an unfaithful husband. It doesn't stop there. The husband is also unrepentant. He claims philandering as of right. He despises his wife for aging, for changing, for becoming less than what he had married her for. It is as if the long stick (of youth and beauty) he once drew at the altar suddenly grew shorter and shorter and he now blames her for his drawing and holding on to the short end of the stick in the marriage.

So he detests her deterioration. He wants a younger, prettier thing. He wants to be satisfied, not just sexually, but from the angle of his own vanity and pride. He wants a trophy partner, polished, new and gleaming. And not his wife, wrinkled, dull and aging.

That's her painful reality. That's her anguish. And time is not helping. Its hours and minutes are like the hungry mindless crowd in a Roman Coliseum, clamoring for the kill, mocking her, waiting for the final stroke to put her to sleep for good. And words of comfort only dull the pain, it doesn't take it away.

She is still lost. She is still lonely. And sometimes death seems like the only release. But something inside of her inexplicably resists that compulsion because it is just too easy. She can't understand it. She doesn't know why. But somehow that resistance is the last remaining strength she has that make sense in a world where all meaning has become too betraying for her to rely on.

Then there is the reality of a man who has lost everything in a tragic accident. His wife and children all gone. In one act, one cruel moment in time, everything changed. Every hope is lost. Every purpose stolen. Every thing that is pure and good died that day. It was so sudden a total severance that he is still reeling from it.

In fact, no amount of his present and future put together can make up for that one heart wrenching moment in the past. His life ended yesterday and he is merely existing today and the day after not by acts of self will but by default. Time again is a cruel master of fate. She grants this broken, irreparable soul not the courage to end it so that he could be delivered into the hands of blissful oblivion. On the contrary, time parcels on the torture, deliberately spreading it thin so that the tormented soul has just enough hope to delude himself that it is all a very bad dream. And this delusion is the only tenuous hope he has against the unbearable torture of his day-to-day reality.

I can go on with this. I can write about a mother praying for her young daughter who was abducted in the course of an overseas holiday. Since that day, she has not slept a wink. She is tormented by countless mental chambers of torture that her small and fragile mind doesn't have the space to contain them all. She is losing her mind. She is losing reality by confronting it. She cannot eat. She cannot work. She cannot end her life because she cannot bear the thought that ending it means ending all hope of finding her beloved child. Hers is a reality that she cannot face but it is also one that she cannot afford not to face. It is a reality of soul-tearing uncertainty that literally rots the inner most part of her soul.

I can also write about a child who is given a medical death sentence leading to an end most unspeakable or a financial ruin that will shatter a family to pieces or the compounded tragedy of a young girl of no more than 14 who was gang raped, abandoned by her family for dishonoring them, left on the street for death, and sold into prostitution - thereby never experiencing love of a kind that would give her the faith and hope for a kinder world. And her end is to die in complete anonymity with the welcoming arms of death as the only kindness she will ever come to experience in her brief and miserable life.

Alas, I think I have driven the reality stake deep enough into the heart of human pain and suffering. Nothing can ever prepare us for what these lives had gone and will go through. The reality they face makes ours a mere slap on the wrist. While I have no answers to the tragedy of living, and nothing of the sort that even comes close to providing some form of relief to their daily torment, I can only look at my own life and live it in quiet surrender and reflective humility.

Each of us has to face our own reality. And while it will not be as dreadful as some of the examples I have provided here, it will no doubt be a reality we will have to overcome before it overwhelms us. We can do ourselves a favor by facing our reality with some resilience, optimism and resolve. Because ultimately we live not for ourselves, we live for our loved ones who will one day face their own reality and will thereafter look to ours for inspiration and hope. That much we own it to them to live our life well and to make the most of everyday.

Here I recall a saying that you don't have to have the best of everything to be happy. You just have to make the best of everything. And that is contentment enough for a life not meant to live forever in this fallen world. Cheerz.