Tolerating or understanding?

There are times when anger just feels like it’s about to burst out from all my pores. Like all the smoke and fire will just fly out of my nose and ears. Something as small as C asking me if he can use my LAN connection when the cable is still plugged to my computer. Like him asking me for a tenner even when he knows that I have only 30 bucks in my purse and to my name. I feel a deep, smoldering heat that threatens to consume me. The threat feels so real that I feel I could just implode and dissolve into a small pile of ashes after 3 minutes of internal combustion. The heat just sometimes rises to my face and I can feel it – I can feel the blood vessels expand and all this life fluids are brought on to that thin space just under the top layer of my skin. From the top of my head to my toes. It’s so hot sometimes that I feel like if I submerge myself into a tub of water I’d be able to see and hear the hiss of the steam! I feel like ending every sentence – nay, every word – with 50 exclamation marks.

I feel such peace and quiet when he’s not here, actually. Today, my brother and his family made plans to spend some time with me at my place. C stayed away to make way for them; surely, a flatmate is not what my brother is expecting when he comes to visit his elder sister. The plan was for after lunch, but because it rained, it had to be postponed to dinner. Oh what bliss! I had a few hours to myself to do whatever I want. What freedom! It’s such a joy to not have another laptop in front of mine on my workstation. So refreshing to not hear the irritating termite-like sound of the hurried clicking of the mouse button while he plays his online game. Such a sight for sore eyes for me to see the clear desk in front of me, without the usual clutter of the 2 extra laptops, the mouse device, the assortment of keys and small rubbish, the used mugs, the empty food packets. So relaxing to not have to worry about anyone walking behind me, looking over my shoulder to watch what’s on my computer screen. Privacy. How wonderful.

I hate the person I have become. I turn inward, even from myself. I trust no one, yet I long to be trusted. I don’t want to depend on others, yet I want to considered as dependable. I want to be calm, yet my temper is on hair trigger most of the time when C is near. This is not love. This is not understanding. This is toleration gone wrong. An overstayed welcome. When he moves on, he literally will move on forward. I will be the one who will need to get used to him not being here any more. I want him to move on now but the bugger is so down and out he doesn’t even have another place to stay. Somehow I don’t trust him. I have a strong feeling that if he’s out on the streets, he’ll find a way to survive. He can't let himself be homeless now can he? I don’t want to even see his stuff any more. The clutter. It’s clogging up my mind like someone’s stuffing cotton wool into my head and has not stopped. I just want him to leave. Go. Get out of my life. But the many times I told him that he just asks me to give him another few months to get his shit together. I put up with this for so long – by now he’s had so much time, his shit would have time to put their shit together! I’m exhausted. I’m angry at myself. I can't even be strong and stand for myself now. I’m letting him walk all over me. I don’t know who I hate more right now. Him or me.

stylish fashion or fashionable style?

fashion / Pronunciation [fash-uhn]
–noun

1. a prevailing custom or style of dress, etiquette, socializing, etc.: the latest fashion in dresses.
2. conventional usage in dress, manners, etc., esp. of polite society, or conformity to it: the dictates of fashion; to be out of fashion.
3. manner; way; mode: in a warlike fashion.
4. the make or form of anything: He liked the fashion of the simple, sturdy furniture.
5. a kind; sort: All fashions of people make up the world.

style / Pronunciation [stahyl]

–noun

1. a particular kind, sort, or type, as with reference to form, appearance, or character: the baroque style; The style of the house was too austere for their liking.
2. a particular, distinctive, or characteristic mode of action or manner of acting: They do these things in a grand style.
3. a mode of living, as with respect to expense or display. An elegant, fashionable, or luxurious mode of living: to live in style.
4. a mode of fashion, as in dress, esp. good or approved fashion; elegance; smartness.
5. the mode of expressing thought in writing or speaking by selecting and arranging words, considered with respect to clearness, effectiveness, euphony, or the like, that is characteristic of a group, period, person, personality, etc.: to write in the style of Faulkner; a familiar style; a pompous, pedantic style.
6. manner or tone adopted in discourse or conversation: a patronizing style of addressing others.
7. a particular, distinctive, or characteristic mode or form of construction or execution in any art or work: Her painting is beginning to show a personal style.

Dictionary.com Unabridged (v 1.0.1)Based on the Random House Unabridged Dictionary, © Random House, Inc. 2006.

In May 2006, I made the first serious decision regarding my work wardrobe.

So I went to Bangkok and had suits made. I saved a lot for that because I know I needed higher end fabric for this. I decided to use my tailor's expertise from design phase, including identifying user requirements (I'm the user, of course). So, here's what transpired:

Before meeting with tailor:

1. I did reseach on fabrics and how they work in different climates. Also got a general idea of the logic behind combination of different types
2. Decided what kind of clothes do I want to wear and generally where and what will I need them for

During meetings with tailor, I detailed my requirements: among them -

1. I'll be wearing the suits primarily in hot and humid tropical climate. Main purpose of clothes are not for meetings overseas cold climate locations
2. Need tailoring that makes me look good e.g. I don’t tuck in shirts because my waistline is not obvious so I need shirts that are designed to be worn outside
3. I've got a short torso so I need the design that makes me look well-proportioned. I don’t like shirts that 'bubble' because they don’t fall nicely on my lower back
4. I'm overly concious of my thighs so trouser design must have a balanced degree of flare at the bottom without looking like the nanny of the Brady Bunch kids
5. Type of fabric must take into account how nicely they fall ie hang on my body frame
6. Type of fabric must be lightweight and suitcase-friendly ie does not crumple too much too easily.
7. Style must be lean and not too bulky esp when we're including linings
8. Fabric must be travel friendly ie I don’t want to dry clean the damn stuff all the time. I'm cool with handwash - I handwash my own clothes
9. Good color combo that brings out the healthiest of my skin tone and hair color
10. Total mix and match ie all shirts must be able to be worn with any suit and colors must be 'me' enough within the generally accepted 'corporate' hues
11. NO PLAIN BLACK SUITS, NO PLAIN WHITE SHIRTS

That's just some of it. Apparently I hit the right nerve because my tailor became very engrossed in this project. Has the mark of not just a good tailor, but a great businessman. We collaborated harmoniously together, reviewing all fabric and color choices. We looked at different suit jacket lengths, trouser length, hem design, waistband design, skirt lengths - time consuming yet satisfying. I think my tailor bloomed more than I - he really enjoyed the challenge. No surprises then when I ended up with the higher end of fabric - I had had to agree to the combo of 70% cashmere and 30% wool for my suits; the only fabric that met all my requirements, no compromises. Shirts are normal lah - egyptian cotton.

So, after much civilised and unhurried discussion of price and package configuration, the final price came to THB 28, 000 for these items:
3 suit jackets
3 knee-skimming length skirts
3 pairs of trousers
4 long sleeve shirts with cuffs made for to wear with cufflinks
3 silk scarves

Suits came in dark dusty grey pinstripes, dark blue and khaki-beige. Shirts came in dark red/maroon, white and pink checks (small fine pink squares, not huge ones, on white background - my favorite!), corporate blue (the one between light blue and normal blue) and creamy sunflower yellow.

I remember comtemplating a lot of things during the 2 fittings. When everything was ready, I insisted on not having the clothes delivered to the hotel. I went to pick them up, and tried everything. Even the different mix and match combos of shirts and suits. Brought my pantyhose (dark and normal skin colors) and my 2 pairs of often-worn heels - 3" and 1.5". The other tailors employed by the shope were rather surprised, but my tailor didn’t even bat an eyelash. As I arrived, he asked the help staff to prepare cold drinks, sat me down and took out the clothing items from the bags and laid them out while I cooled down (Bangkok - hot and humid!) and offered a cool towel too, so that I wouldn’t get sweaty during fittings after. He continued with his work and let me sit there quietly reading the papers and sipping my drink until I said "OK, I'm ready now," about 20 mins after I had arrived.

After the fitting he invited me to sign the customer pattern/measurement book. It's a huge one that tailors use and he had shown me that book at our first meeting, for me to read the testimonials of other satisfied customers. A lot of them wrote long stuff. On my page, I wrote "Perfect fit. Well done." I guess he caught my expression and knew that those were the only words needed. He presented me with a small box. Inside, a pair of Gucci cufflinks. I know they were from Patpong market or Chatuchak, but I don’t care. I wear them until now.

I returned to KL with my key wardrobe pieces. I wear them to death, knowing that I won't have to purchase any new office wardrobe for the next 18 months, at least. Did I mention that adjustments (to accomodate for expansions or the opposite) would be free of charge?

I recommended him to my friends. Some are happy, some are not, but I know none of them received any cufflinks :-) but I note that the few who were unhappy did not approach this project with harmony and peace of mind. Expectations were not clear. Even if they were, they were communicated in a very fishmonger-ish manner. Harsh tone of voice, condescending, know-it all. Hey I love them, theyre still my friends :-) but it's their clothes decision, so I never intrude.

For me, I began to see the difference between style and fashion. I see fashion as seasonal. Something hot now may not be so hot next year. Style lives forever. It's what a person makes out of fashion. It's something deeply personal. It's the intangible thing that makes us see how can one dress look awesome on one person, yet the same dress doesnt really work on another body.

At the end of the day, I learnt this - it's true that clothes maketh the man; but it's the man who decides on the clothes, and he'd better have a great tailor.

to explode or not to explode?

ex . plo . sion  / Pronunciation [ik-sploh-zhuhn]

1. an act or instance of exploding; a violent expansion or bursting with noise, as of gunpowder or a boiler (opposed to implosion).
2. the noise itself: The loud explosion woke them.
3. a violent outburst, as of laughter or anger.
4. a sudden, rapid, or great increase: a population explosion.
5. the burning of the mixture of fuel and air in an internal-combustion engine.

Dictionary.com Unabridged (v 1.0.1)Based on the Random House Unabridged Dictionary, © Random House, Inc. 2006.

The meeting started pretty harmlessly, just like any other weekly team meetings where the focus would be on updates of work status. However, one gets the expression that the other shoe was going to fall as the we went into the first 10 minutes.

The other shoe did fall. And it fell with a very loud explosion. Suffice to say, a lot of frustration was aired by 2 of the team members. They used me as an example though. If this example is seen from a point of view that's not too friendly, it could indicate that they're critisizing me and my scope of work. Like questioning my decision to be involved in content development while at the same time wearing the logistics and area coordinator hat. Like not being focused on what's more important and urgent.

Seen from a more task-oriented objective point of view, this could be taken as an attempt of a more senior team member to protect another from unwise use of her time i.e. Batman speaking up for Robin because Batman knows better and Batman has seen this happening before and Batman doesnt want Robin to be put in situations where Robin will not be able to focus on his strengths.

Thank goodness I read Malcolm Gladwell's Blink: The Power of Thinking Without Thinking http://www.amazon.com/Blink-Power-Thinking-Without/dp/0316172324/ref=pd_sim_b_1/102-7101110-3615323?ie=UTF8 and became more aware of how snap judgements can be really useful and not just hasty decisions that are poorly-made. I observed the situation and assessed it. My decision was to keep quiet and keep a neutral facial expression (read: blank). Main message I wanted to convey: whatever that's being discussed was an example, not an exact case in point. It's always advantageous to keep a few cards up one's sleeve.

It worked. The small strategy bought me some extra time to get a better feel of the whole situation and find out the source of frustration experienced by a couple of the team members. The outcome was positive - our responsibilities have been made clearer and thankfully I'll be able to return home earlier. Most importantly, the underlying current of tension that I sensed when I first got here has gone.

I did not explode. Good for me. 2 things to do when I get home:

1. Learn chess strategies
2. Learn how to play poker

Sounds doable ;-)

Train encounters

ex - ot - ic / Pronunciation[ig-zot-ik]

–adjective

1. of foreign origin or character; not native; introduced from abroad, but not fully naturalized or acclimatized: exotic foods; exotic plants.
2. strikingly unusual or strange in effect or appearance: an exotic hairstyle.
3. of a uniquely new or experimental nature: exotic weapons.
4. of, pertaining to, or involving stripteasing: the exotic clubs where strippers are featured.

–noun
something that is exotic: The flower show included several tropical exotics with showy blooms.

Dictionary.com Unabridged (v 1.0.1)
Based on the Random House Unabridged Dictionary, © Random House, Inc. 2006.

There I was, sitting quietly in the speed train at Ostbanhhoff (Munich east) station before it moves to my destination station to the south east. Usually, at Ostbahnhoff, the trains wait a bit longer before continuing ahead. I kept my nose buried in my book and looked up for a quick moment and noticed a short-haired, business-suited young gentleman looking at me rather intently. We made eye contact . He smiled. I smiled a little smile back. Suddenly, he hurried into the train and sat down across from where I was sitting.

"Hi," he says.
I smile and nod.
"You're staying at the Karl Theodor hotel, arent you?" he asks.
I just look at him, still looking polite, but not really keen on giving him the information.
"I stay there too, I'm Andreas," he holds out his hand.
"Well, nice to meet you, Andreas." I shake his hand.
"I've seen you a few times at the lobby but I didnt have a chance to say hello" he smiles again.

The train starts to move.

"Well it's a surprise to meet you here, then" I tell him.
"Are you here for work?" He asks.
I nod. "And you?" I ask him back.
He nods back to me. We nod a lot.
"I'll be here for a month and a half," he tells me. I nod again.
"Almost the same as me - about a month" I tell him.

The train arrives at St. Martin Strasse halt - my destionation. I gather my bag and stand up. He stands up too. The doors open and we step out together.

Before I go down the staircase to exit the station, he gives me his name card and writes his room number at the back. I take it and return his smile. Ya - we nod and smile a lot in the 8-minute train ride.

"Will you call me when you're free one of these evenings? If you like, I'd like to invite you for a drink," he asks me.
I nod and smile. "Maybe this evening or tomorrow?" I ask him.
His smile got wider. "That sounds super," he says the word super the way Germans do, making the 's' sound like a 'z'.
"You have a good day today," he tells me. He gives me a short wave.
I nod again. I begin to feel like one of those bobbing-head dolls you I see stuck on car dashboards.
"I've got to catch the train back to Ostbahnhoff now to go to the opposite direction." He tells me.
I had to laugh at that.
"Thanks for keeping me company then," I tell him.
"Thanks for letting me!" He starts to laugh too.

I still hear his chuckles as I start walking down the stairs.

I smiled all the way to the office. He does have a nice smile. Then I remembered something.

I never told him my name.

Guess I'll have to call him this evening after work then, won't I?

Funny how these encounters never happen to me back home... maybe I'm not exotic enough in my homeland, neh? :-)

Step into my parlor, said the spider to the fly...

Looks like the real design work for me starts today. After a good intro to the management course and the current status of design, I am beginning to understand the whole picture. I kept on wondering what was the one thing that I felt was eluding me before – the underlying concept of the whole training program pyramid from the most basic management course to the top management course. Apparently, there’s this thing called the ‘red thread’ that is the one thing that holds the learning sequence together, from top to bottom. Technically, the red thread is the correct combination of the key messages and the order they are presented to the participant. If I have a set of key messages and they are presented in an order that is not logically connected to one another and does not make sense, I am still guilty of not maintaining the red thread throughout the learning sequence.

So what I'm doing now is getting started with my work. I’m at the first step: familiarizing myself with the topic. My topic is motivation. Looks like my inherent attraction to complexity has displayed itself again. Apparently I have chosen the 2 more high-profile topics! These are part of the core ideas of the leadership topics – understanding motivation and how to motivate yourself and the people you work with, and I have also ‘successfully’ selected the topic of being part of a management team and leading your own team. Now I look back and think – what on earth inspired me to select this topic? Could understanding the subconscious reason behind this choice be one of the keys I need to get cracking on the right foot here?

Oct 12 coming soon

It's only a few more days until Sanada-san's birthday.

The latest news on this versatile artist is that he's signed up for the latest in the Jackie Chan 'Rush Hour' series. Currently filming in Paris. He'll be one of the baddies in this movie. Based on what I've heard, the director and producers were interested in Yao Ming for this role, initially. I suppose he said no, so they approached Sanada-san. A lot of us remember him as Ujio in 'The Last Samurai'.

The list of his latest movies is growing. I havent yet caught these ones:

1. The White Countess - he stars along Ralph Fiennes and Natasha Richardson
2. The City of Your Final Destination - along with Anthony Hopkins
3. Sunshine - a Danny Boyle film, along with Michelle Yeoh(CTHG with Chow Yun Fatt), Rose Bryne (Troy) and Cillian Murphy (Batman Begins)
4. Aimless Aegis - a Japanese movie about a hijack of a hi-tech Aegis escort ship

I havent heard any updates of work on the City of Your Final Destination though - so I wonder what's up with that one.

But I do love Sanada-san's work. And he is a beautiful man, too :)

Wish upon a star

Currently:

1. mind-mapping my packing list for the next work-related trip; books and other binders, equipment, clothes
2. finalizing list of references for my chosen contents of the pre-program work materials and process
3. preparing certificates of completion for the group graduating from the November 2006 management development/training program
4. in the middle of preparation for the grueling work on the training program development assignment due to start Tuesday Oct 10

Wish I was:

1. lying on a deck chair with a gorgeous Speedo-wearing hunk massaging my bikini-clad body with SPF-6 sun tan oil
2. enjoying a huge bowl of Penang prawn noodles or Ipoh kway teow soup with iced coffee or watermelon juice
3. window-shopping in 1Utama for shoes (heels, casuals, new NIKEs)
4. trying on dresses in Blook, Tangoo, Spade…
5. having pizza in Pizza Hut
6. browsing for ID ideas in IKEA
7. in the gym steam room for pore and hair treatment
8. in a salon for body scrub, massage, facial, bikini line waxing, upper lip hair removal, eyebrow trim
9. having an Affogatto in Dome café
10. having an Affogatto and pancakes and eggs and turkey ham with a few magazines in Dome café

Well -

a girl can dream, can't she?

my anthem

Dream On - Aerosmith

Every time I look in the mirror
All these lines on my face getting clearer
The past is gone
It goes by, like dusk to dawn
Isn't that the way
Everybody's got their dues in life to pay

Yeah, I know nobody knows
where it comes and where it goes
I know it's everybody's sin
You got to lose to know how to win

Half my life is in books' written pages
Lived and learned from fools and from sages
You know it's true
All the things you do come back to you

Sing with me, sing for the year
Sing for the laughter, sing for the tears
Sing with me, if it's just for today
Maybe tomorrow, the good lord will take you away

Dream On Dream On
Dream On
Dream until your dreams come true
Dream On Dream On
Dream On
Dream until your dream comes through
Dream On Dream On
Dream On Dream On
Dream On Dream On
Dream On

Sing with me, sing for the year
sing for the laughter, sing for the tears
sing with me, if it's just for today
Maybe tomorrow, the good Lord will take you away...

Rebalancing - personal places, Pt 2

In Feb '06, Chris and I decided to check out the Japanese tea ceremony up on Bukit Tinggi, in the Japanese Village (up Colmar Tropicale). I'd only been up there once before, in '02, and I only have vague memories of the area. We were just in time for the 11:00 am session and there were only 2 of us for the ceremony. Once payment was settled - MYR 20 per person for the ceremony and MYR 20 rental per yukata (summer light kimono) - the attendants promptly closed the sliding doors of the tea house and moved us to the smaller rooms to dress. I kept my white socks on and kept quiet most of the time, while the tea house manager dressed me. I decided that I was going to observe more, so the manager expertly chose a brown-rose colored yukata for me. Looks nice on brown girl, she said. She also decided to use a more classic way of dressing me; using a light-colored sash as a band around my waist and a simple gold-colored cord to bind around me, on top of the sash, making simple knots as the finishing touches. When Chris came out of his dressing room, I was so surprised. He looked like a Japanese 1000-koku samurai on his day off!

After we finished dressing and posing for our photos (oi those were rented kimonos - we knocked ourselves out lah) signaled our readiness to the tea house attendant. She ushered us to the waiting house - a small hut with benches and a small square pond) and politely informed us to wait. Before reaching the waiting house, we used a small bamboo long-handled bucket to wash our hands and mouth, and rinse the bucket as well. Once the host was ready, she will come back to fetch us up to the tea house. Maybe it was the washing the hands and mouth action that made me become more quiet and reflective. Chris thought it was the whole kimono-wearing gig.

After 15 minutes (I suppose the host needed to put on HER yukata too, for starters) the attendant shuffled down to meet us. She explained the etiquette of walking up to the tea house; we were only to step on the larger rocks that formed the pathway and not step on the small pebbles around them rocks. We were to walk as softly and soundlessly as possible. The key to the whole experience is to behave at all times in a respectful manner to the host; as it is always a huge honor bestowed on us to be invited to a tea ceremony. It would be natural for the host to deliberate carefully on ever decision. Which scroll to hang on the wall, how to decorate the tea room, which tea pot to use and which bowls to use to serve the green tea. So, in view of how much respect is put in the effort by the host, we as guests need to reciprocate. Guests also must honor the host. Mutual respect must be honest and felt.

If you think that was deep - it's only the beginning! :-) And we were only at the stage of WALKING UP to the tea house!

Once we got to the tea house, we were brought to the side entrance. It's a door that's half the size of our normal doorways. The entrance is raised, like on a Malay kampong house where you only reach the door after climbing up a few steps. When I saw that tiny door I automatically thought I'd have to climb up and crawl through, but the attendant (such a sweet and patient girl) showed us the proper way of entering; we kneeled slightly so that our shins touched the base and we were to use our knuckles outside the body to brace ourselves and to assist in the hauling our bodies through the door. The rationale behind that? To remind all guests that even though the host holds them in the highest esteem, we are still all humans. No matter what our classes/castes/social standing are, every one has to 'crawl' through the door to enter. After we place our samurai swords on the rack outside, of course.

A few minutes' wait in the waiting hall was used by the attendant to explain to us the usage of the different rooms in an authentic tea house. The size of each room is measured by how many tatami mats were needed to cover the floor. I think the tea room was a 6 1/2 tatami mat-room. She briefed us on how to sit without breaking our ankles (the ceremony took about 45-mins) and showed us how to bow to our host properly, while seated. It's rather like our Muslim prayer position where we bring our foreheads to the floor. Elbows were to be kept in, not sticking out ala char-kway-teow upper-cuts. She showed us how to use our thumb and forefinger to measure the distance between our knees and the edge of the tatami mats when we sit.

Upon entering the main tea room, we bowed to the host(ess) and sat. Immediately I felt the hush. I didn't expect it, nor was I prepared for it; I could feel my heartbeat slowing down, my inhales and exhales deeper yet more quiet, my facial muscles soften. In photos taken after the ceremony, I actually looked relaxed, like I just completed full hour of Riyo's Body Balance class that included meditation/relaxation.

The attendant briefed us on how we were to behave to appreciate the room, the hanging scroll, the single red flower in the slender white vase, the delicate bowls from which we would drink our tea. The hanging scroll's calligraphy always represented the mood/tone of the tea ceremony, so they are chosen carefully, always. In this particular instance, the calligraphy on the scroll reflected peace and harmony. We looked at those stuff and bowed our appreciation. We also picked up the bowls and turned it around carefully, to admire the design. Usually, the best bowls would be chosen by the host. They could be heirlooms, part of a set that was handed down from one generation to the next. Some of them could be thousands of years old. Such was the respect for the guests.

Then the tea was mixed. The attendant described the actions in the background. I remember something being said about the bamboo whisk being used to mix the green tea powder into the hot water. Everything was special. Each of the movement was economical, but smooth. How could simple gestures and moves of making tea be so meaningful and calming?

It would take 3 1/2 sips to drink the tea, the last half sip a slight slurp. Before bringing the bowl to the lips, we needed to turn the bowl 2 (or was it 3) times so that our lips would be in the plain side of the bowl and the painted design (flower or fish or whatnot) would be facing out. That was to ensure we kept to the pureness of the design, as the bowl we drank from was to be a vision of unmarred beauty. I've forgotten the proper way to pick up the bowl and hold it though :-)

After finishing the tea, we used the tips of forefinger and thumb along the rim of the bowl to remove any residual lip print, and press those tips on the paper napkin placed next to us, to keep the bowl as clean as possible. I remember the attendant mentioning that some traditional tea ceremonies also would include finger food - mostly sweet deserts - and could take up to 4 hours. Whoa.

I totally did not expect the tea ceremony's impact on me. The calming effect was welcomed, naturally, even though I wasnt sure I would feel it before I got there. But in reflection, I was totally bowled over by the combination of alertness and peacefulness that I felt, sitting there, on the tatami mat. It felt like I was relaxed and calm, but at the same time, ready to spring up and take the head off my oponent, should one would attack. Very strange, but very true.

So this now became my place to retreat to. When I need a quick DIY rebalancing fix, I'd close eyes and return to the tea room, and remember the tranquility. And move on.

Cha no yu and personal places, Pt 1

It's that time again.

If I were a car, I would've sent myself for service, with special attention to wheels realignment and balancing. Ever felt sometimes like there's something inside you that needs to be tweaked a little bit? Fine-tuned? Like even while you're standing on your feet with your heels turned slightly inwards to reflect the size of your hip/bum (at least that's what yoga instructors tell us) there's still something missing to help hold your balance and posture no matter how much you control your breathing and suck in your stomach until you can feel your belly button kissing your spine?

I digress - ah but then -

Remember how we are told to 'go to our special place' when we need a quick DIY rebalancing? It could be the park, a waterfall or the beach; all we need to do is close our eyes, pay attention to our breathing and 'find' ourselves at those places. Being a beach-lover, I'd automatically think of the beach when I want to go to this special place in my head. However, for the past couple of years, I discovered that I can't. I close my eyes, I relax, I focus on my breathing, but I can't see the damn beach - I can't hear the waves pounding the sandy bed, I can't feel the salty wind in my hair and on my face, I just can't. I lost it. So what do I do? I pack my bags and head off to the beach whenever I can. When I'm there, everything's cool. I was in Phuket in July for a business trip, and I took time off in the mornings and evenings to relax at the beach. I enjoy it, truly. I feel the place. I feel the environment. I drink in everything and store it in my mind so that I can retreat to it when needed.

Then I learnt a valuable lesson - hit me like an elephant trunk whacked on my head.

I tried too hard.

That's it - simply put. I tried too hard and I thought too much. I realised that for me the beach is somewhere that I just need to be there to absorb it. So I decided to test the theory. Early Sept I went to Redang island again, this time with 3 other friends. More beach bunny that snorkel and scuba babe, I stayed back while the rest of them snorkeled away. Then I just stopped taking mental notes of and memorizing the rock formation, the foamy waves, the sights and sounds. Then something amazing happened to me. I actually relaxed. I felt very calm and I greeted my friends' return with cheery waves and a smiling face (they were rather taken aback - they always tell me I don't smile enough).

Moral of the story? I have learnt that I still love the beach - loads - but our love affair can only be continued by frequent visits - I need to make my there, be there. I need to feel the sand between my toes. The hot sun on my back. The water on my skin. The salt on my face. I can't re-create in my head the beach that I love. It'd be just a postcard image - 2 dimensional. It's not the same beach that I smell and breathe in and never will be.

And it's ok.

Dedicated to my friends

I took a walk around the world to
Ease my troubled mind
I left my body lying somewhere
In the sands of time
I watched the world float to the dark
Side of the moon
I feel there's nothing I can do, yeah

I watched the world float to the
Dark side of the moon
After all I knew it had to be something
To do with you
I really don't mind what happens now and then
As long as you'll be my friend at the end

If I go crazy then will you still
Call me Superman
If I'm alive and well, will you be
There holding my hand
I'll keep you by my side with
My superhuman might - Kryptonite

You called me strong, you called me weak
But still your secrets I will keep
You took for granted all the times I
Never let you down
You stumbled in and bumped your head
If not for me then you'd be dead
I picked you up and put you back
On solid ground

If I go crazy then will you still
Call me Superman
If I'm alive and well will you be
There holding my hand
I'll keep you by my side with my
Superhuman might - Kryptonite