Monday, January 21, 2019

T.Notes#33: You don't (even) know my name

The thing is...
I'm not sure how to say this,
Without coming off like i'm trying to chat you up....

Photo by Charles Koh

T.Notes#32: Monday Life Cheats

I love my job - honest i do,
But some mondays are just hard to do.
Especially as temperatures tumble into negatives these days.
Here is one of my most used life cheats, which i really don't know how i'd get by without.
Be nice people - Don't judge!

I live very close to the office - literally a five minutes stroll-in.
By meticulous planning, i free up a one hour lunch break and pre-book an in-call home massage with urban.
So, once 12'noon clocks on massage mondays, i am literally floating out of the office into the waiting nestle of a deep tissue massage appointment.

No doubt a slightly expensive indulgence
But if you are the kind that rejuvates by quiet alone time, i certainly recommend the occassional massage indulgence.
To ease the pinch I'd usually plan it into my monthly expenses,
and consider it a small reward for all the month's hustle.

How do you de-stress or unwind?

Picture by maxvdo@unsplash

Saturday, January 19, 2019

T.Notes#31: About Sunday Contradictions

Whilst i embrace the Christian faith,
There are two areas where i intensely struggle.
One is the expectation of a deeply flawed man to live out a worthy cause.
The second is the age old dilemma - how does a good God permit such evil.

I have grappled and studied wide these two contradictations,
And also lived inside their deep trenches -
So i know that it really is not that simple.
I am aware of most well intended responses
And how none of them have yet to quiet my restless angst.

This note acknowledges a walk of faith, or to be precise - a slow limp, for those of us who dared to tell the truth.
And whilst i look forward to a different conclusion, these three things still honestly remain:
A broken halleluyah, a fragile amen and a different type of faith.....

Faith nonetheless.

Thursday, November 15, 2018

T.Notes#30: Damsel Fly

Then there are those days when she longed to be lost - to wander away into a long night. An unrecognizable curious beauty, stirring a glass of red at the back of the bar, and listening intently to Loyle Carner's Damselfly and Ottolenghi. Then there are those days when i desperately wished to be her. This one is about flight.

T.Notes#29: Game for three

Heaven and I know both that my life is like a game of three dice:
Each of us gently stroking one,
a curious orchestra playing in the background,
and the devil, waiting with a third and for the music to pause.

Saturday, September 1, 2018

T.Notes#28: Lauryn

I went away to a self discovery retreat because my 'good' friends convinced me that i was hurtling into a serous case of early mid-life crisis. To be honest, i was not really bothered about the prognosis until i started seeing real implications to my account balances - i.e maintaining a mid life crisis is expensive and certainly not sustainable!

So there i was in a lovely country side along with other misfits - literally being force-fed a lot of new-age, self-help propaganda. As you can imagine, i was not very coperative. The facilitators had one particular underpinning theory. They insisted that the key to life fulfilment is by rediscovering the person you were towards the end of your teenage years - because the person you were at ages nineteen to twenty holds the key to the real "you" and therein lies our personal contentment.

The logic is that most of us have already figured out who we are and what we want to become by age twenty. Therefore, every experience or decision after that age is either consciously helping us towards that goal, or we are intentionally adjusting our aspirations to accomodate life, pressure or society.  I told the psycologist that it all made no sense and that she was talking rubbish. My defence was that it is not practical to build one's life on the naivety of teenage-hood.

She asked me if i was happy. I told her my current salary, recent bonus and asked her if she'd be happy if she were earning that much. She said maybe, and asked me again if i was truly happy. In response, I reeled out the long list of people that rely on and benefit from my adulting routines. Their happiness gives me contentment, albeit in a depressing twisted way - i argued, whilst mulling if my life wasn't disimilar to how Paul refered to being poured out like a drink offering.

Before giving up, she asked me to reflect on the things i was doing at age twenty that brought me joy and give myself a break from adulthood to indulge fully in those activities and afterwards take time to reflect. I reluctantly agreed to take up her challenge. So when i got home, i borrowed a bicycle and rode to the local music store - with the wind and fond memories in my sails. I bought a reel of old 90s music and dedicated the weekend to allowing myself space to breathe.

Then for the first time in six years i turned off Bloomberg and welcomed instead Miseducation of Lauryn Hill strumming in the background whilst i read through all 200 of my old posts here - in search of a consistent trend of "who i am". I cringed at  some, prudently archived some, but for the most part, I loved, laughed and ultimately accepted every facet of experience that has brought me to who i am today - with a better clarity of the sum of all those colorful parts.

What does this all mean for monday morning when i resume back to work and the deadlines and stress-lines kick back in? I don't know. I'm still trying to figure it all out. But i do know that this weekend i feel lighter with a lesser burden from the weight of the person i am trying hard to become. And i know that it's a feeling i'm not keen to give up too quickly.

How do you deal with life on your journeys to becoming?

This is a T.Notes

Saturday, July 7, 2018

T.Notes #27: About addictions

I took this picture on a cold dark night as i finally gave up and made my way to my first group therapy meeting. Even though my naturally cynic self considered it all "silly western indulgences", I introduced myself in the required format: "Hi my name is T; I am a....addict." I knew it was the first time i was speaking the truth.

Addictions are complex, often leading to irrepairable psychological damage if left unattended to. People will often blame addicts for not speaking up about their problems, but i found that such conversations are only a waste of time - amounting only to either emphathy or entertainment. Neither of which is helpful to anyone.

Only someone who has lived in or intentionally studied the toxic realities of addictions, is really a worthwhile audience. This is how i met bambi - with her matchless wit and a body that was only fitting to gods. Some relationships are like carelessly throwing gasoline into a raging inferno, but we called it art. Afterall anything you do with Sade Adu playing in the background, can only be beautiful.

Six months into sobriety and still trying to redefine beauty.

This is a T.Note