RambutanTree

A Child Again

2010-07-05T13:37:00.008+08:00

Help me Lord to be a child again

The one You knew before life's pain and shame
A simple child who trusts & knows no fear
Who in my smallness, rests in my Abba dear

Help me to know Your love - not just in my head, but in my heart
To be anchored deeply - amidst life's storms and valleys dark
To let go of all my fears and inhibitions and doubts;
And let you take me to new adventures and mountain tops

(inspired by Up!)

Who am I? (by Dietrich Bonhoeffer)

2010-05-24T13:54:00.003+08:00

Who am I? They often tell me I would step from my cell's confinement calmly, cheerfully, firmly, like a squire from his country-house.

Who am I? They also tell me I would talk to my warders freely and friendly and clearly, as though it were mine to command.

Who am I? They also tell me I would bear the days of misfortune equably, smilingly, proudly, like one accustomed to win.

Am I then really all that which other men tell of? Or am I only what I myself know of myself, restless and longing and sick, like a bird in a cage, struggling for breath, as though hands were compressing my throat, yearning for colors, for flowers, for the voices of birds, thirsting for words of kindness, for neighborliness, trembling with anger at despotisms and petty humiliation, tossing in expectation of great events, powerlessly trembling for friends at an infinite distance, weary and empty at praying, at thinking, at making, faint, and ready to say farewell to it all?

Who am I? This or the other? Am I one person today, and tomorrow another? Am I both at once? A hypocrite before others, and before myself a contemptibly woebegone weakling? Or is something within me still like a beaten army, fleeing in disorder from victory already achieved?

Who am I? They mock me, these lonely questions of mine. Whoever I am, thou knowest, O God, I am thine.

The enemy within (by Carl Jung)

2010-05-23T17:00:00.006+08:00

The acceptance of oneself is the essence of the whole moral problem and the epitome of a whole outlook on life. That I feed the hungry, that I forgive an insult, that I love my enemy in the name of Christ - all these are undoubtedly great virtues. What I do unto the least of my brethren, that I do unto Christ.

But what if I should discover that the least among them all, the poorest of all beggars, the most impudent of all the offenders, the very enemy himself - that these are within me, and that I myself stand in need of the alms of my own kindness - that I myself am the enemy who must be loved - what then? As a rule, the Christian's attitude is then reversed: there is no longer any question of love or long suffering; we say to the brother within us "Raca," and condemn and rage against ourselves. We hide it from the world; we refuse to admit ever having met this least among the lowly in ourselves.

Judas could not face his shadow; Peter could. The latter befriended the imposter within; the former raged against him (Brennan Manning).

The hardest battle

2010-05-20T15:07:00.001+08:00

To be nobody but yourself in a world which is doing its best day and night to make you everybody else, means to fight the hardest battle which any human being can fight, and never stop fighting (ee cummings)

A Youthful Soul

2010-05-16T20:49:00.004+08:00

I like what the late General Douglas MacArthur said - Youth is not a period of time. It is a state of mind, a result of the will, a quality of the imagination, a victory of courage over timidity, of the taste for adventure over the love of comfort. A man doesn't grow old because he has lived a certain number of years. A man grows old when he deserts his ideal. The years may wrinkle his skin, but deserting his ideal wrinkles his soul. Preoccupations, fears, doubts, and despair are the enemies which slowly bow us toward earth and turn us into dust before death. You will remain young as long as you are open to what is beautiful, good, and great; receptive to the messages of other men and women, of nature, and of God. If one day you should become bitter, pessimistic, and gnawed by despair, may God have mercy on your old man's soul.

A Decision

2010-04-20T23:07:00.005+08:00

After weeks of taking western medication followed by Chinese medicine, I made a decision to change my diet and eat anti-histamine foods to get rid of this lingering cough. So for the next 3 months, I will bid goodbye to my favourite desserts and eat the following and see how I do:

Vegetables - Bell Peppers, Bok Choy, Broccoli, Brussels Sprouts, Cabbage, Cauliflower, Garlic, Green Beans, Spring Onions, Kale, Leeks, Olives, Spinach, Sweet potatoes, Tomatoes
Fruits - Apples, Avocados, Pineapple, Guavas, Kiwifruit, Lemons, Papaya
Nuts - Almonds, Flaxseed/Linseed, Hazelnuts, Sunflower Seeds, Walnuts
Fish - Cod, Herring, Salmon, Sardines, Snapper Fish, Striped Bass, Tuna
Drink - Green tea, lots of water
Supplements - Quercetin, Omega 3 fatty acids, Bromelain, Vitamin C
What to cut down on - animal protein intake, dairy, wheat and gluten products, artificial sweeteners and sugar

Prayer to the Restorer of Entombed Vitality (by Joyce Rupp)

2010-04-17T14:23:00.003+08:00

This is a wonderful poem by Joyce Rupp (taken from Out of the Ordinary)

Awakened One
source of inner power
restorer of tombed vitality
giver of graced gusto

you who have been raised
from the cold stone of death
come and resurrect me
from my own entombment

repair what has weakened
in my spiritual endeavors
revive my mildewed
cobwebbed relationships

lift up my waning hope
when I wail with the world's pain
restore my sense of oneness
with all your creation

refresh my daily call
to embrace the sacred
to find you in every gesture
that dances with your heart

push back the stone
of self-centredness
untomb my generosity
renew my dedication

raise up my dilapidated dreams
restore my ancient union
resuscitate my burning desire
re-establish my priorities
so you become the Centre
of all I am and all I do

Nicodemus

2010-04-05T07:14:00.004+08:00

I came at night to see the Teacher
To find out about the miracles that defied nature
Filled with fear but compelled by my question - Is this really God sanctioned?

You must be born again - I was told.
His words defied all logic known
You must be born from heaven, by the Spirit.
It's unseen, unpredictable, but you will feel it

His words awakened a deep yearning in my heart,
And dispelled the fear I had from the start.
It may cost me everything I am and have
But I will follow Him with resolution and pizzaz.

An Easter Thanksgiving

2010-04-05T07:09:00.009+08:00

Jesus You took on all my sin;
Every wrong and pain and disfigurement within.
You paid a debt You did not owe
Not destroy this unworthy soul.
How can I ever repay You fully?
For all I am and have comes from You only....I can only say "thank you Lord" from my heart; and pledge Your words to remember and never depart.

Rewriting the pages

2010-01-22T13:47:00.003+08:00

God made my life complete
When I placed all the pieces before him.
God rewrote the text of my life
When I opened the book of my heart to His eyes
(Psalms 18, The Message)

A clear view

2009-12-22T12:26:00.006+08:00

This is what Mount Kinabalu looks like; we had to wait 5 days for this view. Most of the time it's hidden behind clouds and mists.
This reminds me of faith - being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see

Voice of Love

2009-12-18T19:18:00.010+08:00

I heard the voice of the tempter say - Prove yourself!
Do something useful, powerful, sensational;
To show you are worthy of love.
So I strove to do my best;
Only to discover that -
Enough is never enough;
To prove I am worthy of love.

Then I heard a still, small voice say -
"You are My Beloved Child;
There is no need to strive;
You are chosen; pride of My life"
"It's not what you can do or say;
That makes up what you're worth.
It's how much I have loved you;
Long before Your birth."

A New Beginning

2009-12-18T19:11:00.009+08:00

I came to this retreat,
With ashes in my hand,
Charred remains of failed attempts,
Of a contemplative stance.

I thought it would make me
More spiritual,
More transformed;
Better and wiser...
But I was wrong.

To find the One who loves my soul,
Requires that I understand -
That I am the one who's being pursued;
Drawn and embraced by His loving Hand.

Two donkeys

2009-04-14T13:20:00.003+08:00

Two donkeys I met along the way
One Simon, one Rinda
Servants of God, I say

Who walked along with me some days
They watched and listened
And helped me find my place

At Papa's side & under His gaze
I thank You Lord for donkeys who
Are so full of Your grace!

Sheepdog

2009-04-12T20:58:00.005+08:00

These words were inspired from a silent retreat which I attended recently over the Easter weekend at the Nest.

Make me your sheepdog Lord
Train me in Your ways
Let me hear Your every call
And see You face to face

Make me your sheepdog Lord
And help me to obey
Regardless of the circumstance
In everything You say

Make me your sheepdog Lord
O that I might be
Ever attentive and responsive
Only God to Thee

Make me your sheepdog Lord
And use me as You will
To herd the sheep You've lost
To pasture that will thrill

Make me your sheepdog Lord
As one who knows no fear
To climb the heights and plunge the depths
With the Shepherd I hold so dear

(picture of border collie taken from Wikipedia)

Pouring out of nard

2009-04-12T20:40:00.007+08:00

I was inspired by the story of Mary pouring pure nard on Jesus in John 12:1-6

Lord I pour out my nard on you
Please take me as I am
The strong, the weak, the good, the bad
A sacrifice to the Lamb

Lord I pour out my nard on you
I don't have much to give
The whole, the broken, the Mary, the Judas
Please accept them as a gift

Lord I pour out my nard on you
I owe you a great debt
Your cross, Your tomb, the empty grave
Brought death and life resurrect

Lord I pour out my nard on you
Take these spices, make them new
The bitter, the sweet, the sour, the salt
Make me a fresh work in You

(picture of spikenard, ingredient of nard, taken from Wikipedia)

Beatrix Potter

2008-10-20T15:26:00.008+08:00

I recently watched the movie "Miss Potter" with Renée Zellweger and Ewan McGregor and thoroughly enjoyed it! Although the movie has some historical inaccuracies, it was heartwarming and I particularly liked the animated scenes where the animal characters came alive.

Watching some of the scenes at the Lake District also made me homesick for Cumbria (I spent a year at Lancaster University and whiled away many happy weekends exploring the Lake District; a bus ticket only cost five pounds then).

I hadn't realised how accomplished Beatrix Potter was. A self-taught artist (her first book, ''The Tale of Peter Rabbit,'' was published in 1902 and sold 28,000 copies between October and Christmas that year); an astute businesswoman (she began merchandising a Peter Rabbit doll as early as 1903); a expert mycologist (she studied and drew lichens and fungi) and a sheep breeder with 14 farms covering 4,000 acres.

She bequeathed all her property to the National Trust, a charity dedicated to preserving British heritage. One of her quotes was - "Thank goodness I was never sent to school; it would have rubbed off some of the originality"

The Middle Passage

2008-08-07T09:37:00.008+08:00

Joyce Rupp's poem resonates with me -

the persistent voice of midlife wooed and wailed, wept and whined, nagged like an endless toothache, seduced like an insistent lover, promised a guide to protect me as I turned intently toward my soul.

as I stood at the door of "Go Deeper", I heard the ego's howl of resistance, felt the shivers of my false security but knew there could be no other way. inward I travelled, down, down, drawn further into the truth than I ever intended to go.

as I moved far and deep and long, eerie things long lain hidden jeered at me with shadowy voices, while love I'd never envisioned wrapped compassionate ribbons 'round my fearful, anxious heart.

further in I sank, to the depths, past all my arrogance and confusion, through all my questions and doubts, beyond all I held to be fact.

finally I stood before a new door: the Hall of Oneness and Freedom. uncertain and wary, I slowly opened, discovering a space of welcoming light.

I entered the sacred inner room, where everything sings of Mystery. no longer could I deny or resist the decay of clenching control and the silent gasps of surrender.

there in the sacred place of my Self, Love of a lasting kind came forth, embracing me like a long beloved one, come home for the first time.

much that I thought to be "me" crept to the corners and died. in its place a Being named Peace slipped beside and softly spoke my name: "Welcome home, True Self, I've been waiting for you."

Rembrandt's Prodigal Son

2008-08-04T13:02:00.010+08:00

I am reading Henri Nouwen's "The Return of the Prodigal Son" based on one of Rembrandt's last paintings at the Hermitage museum.

Rembrandt did not follow the literal text of the parable. What he portrayed is a half-blind old man (he painted the blind as real see-ers), dressed in a gold embroidered garment and deep red cloak, laying his large, stiffened hands on the shoulders of his returning son, in a torn undertunic covering his emaciated body and torn sandals. It's a picture of infinite compassion, unconditional love and everlasting forgiveness. Looking on is the critical older son who stands stiffly erect with both hands clasped together close to his chest.
Henri Nouwen reflects on himself as the wayward younger son, the older resentful son and finally the welcoming father. It's wonderful exposition of homecoming and reconciliation.

Retreat of Silence

2008-08-01T10:03:00.010+08:00

Last weekend, I took part in my first silent retreat and discovered the wonderful world of contemplation and meditation.
I quote from Sue Monk Kidd's book "When the Heart Waits" - "When you are waiting, you're not doing nothing. You are doing the most important something there is. You're allowing your soul to grow up. If you can't be still and wait, you can't become what God created you to be."
"Contemplative waiting is consenting to be where we really are. People recoil from it because they don't want to be present in themselves. Such waiting causes a deep existential loneliness to surface, a feeling of being disconnected from oneself and God. At the depths, there is fear, fear of the dark chaos within ourselves."
Such a waiting can be likened to entering into a cocoon; into a process of separation, transformation and emergence [picture taken from www.naute.com].

Cambodian team

2008-07-22T12:00:00.003+08:00

This is the wonderful Cambodian team, comprising ELLCO ladies from Singapore and the Christian Broadcasting Network team in Cambodia. We spent a week together from July 14-19, visiting cleft lip/palate patients, taking kids from provinces to the zoo, visiting women and children at Laveasor, Stang Man Chay as well as Phnom Penh and Kandal prisons. It's the true kind of worship described in Isaiah 58 - to feed the hungry, clothed the naked and help the poor. And it brings the best job satisfaction ever! I'm so glad I was part of it.

A Prayer That Convicts

2008-07-10T13:03:00.004+08:00

These words from a Franciscan benediction are convicting ...

May God bless you with discomfort
At easy answers, half truths, and superficial relationships
So that you may live deep within your heart.

May God bless you with anger
At injustice, oppression, and exploitation of people,
So that you may work for justice, freedom and peace

May God bless you with tears
To shed for those who suffer pain, rejection, hunger and war
So that you may reach out your hand to comfort them and
To turn their pain into joy

And may God bless you with enough foolishness
To believe that you can make a difference in the world
So that you can do what others claim cannot be done
To bring justice and kindness to all our children and the poor
Amen.

Chronicles of Narnia

2008-06-09T14:31:00.005+08:00

I enjoyed The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe and was looking forward to its sequel, Prince Caspian. I must admit that I did not enjoy it as much as the first, perhaps because I expected more. However, it's still worth watching - the showstealer was Reepicheep, a swashbuckling mouse as well as the giant liquid figure that rose out of the river to defeat the Telmarines. The story has parallels with the author's own life - Lewis' nursemaid told him folktales and he had an influential tutor, as did Caspian. Both were also motherless.

Long live the Spud!

2008-04-07T13:24:00.012+08:00

I love anything with potatoes - shepherd's pie, bangers and mash, french fries, rosti ... Apparently, the UN has declared 2008 as the International Year of the Potatoe and is hoping that its merits would help alleviate poverty and promote economic development.

The spud was first domesticated in the Andes (there are 3,500 edible varieties!) and carried to Europe in the 16th century. Its value lies in its high yield and almost perfect balance of nutrients. Potatoes can produce more energy per unit area per day than any other crop and it's possible to subsist on a diet of spuds with very little else.

Apparently, it underpinned the industrial revolution in England in the 19th century by being a cheap source of calories and an easy crop to cultivate so it liberated workers from the land. But there was also a downside with the Irish potatoe famine of 1845 when 1 million Irish perished because of the potatoe blight.

There's a book out (if you want more details on this tuber food) - Propitious Esculent (Helpful Food): The Potatoe in World History by John Reader - on the biography of the spud; the world's 4th largest food crop (after maize, wheat and rice).

Maybe we should all start growing and eating more potatoes, considering the fast rising prices of wheat and rice (this blurb was inspired by spud articles in The Economist March 1st '08).

Oxygen

2008-03-27T16:40:00.005+08:00

Recently I have had the good fortune of having a couple of friends/mentors come alongside to listen and pray with me as I struggle with being in the doldrums. It's like taking a breath of pure oxygen...so refreshing. During this season, I've decided to set aside pockets of time to wait on God and get ready for the wind of change!

The Doldrums

2008-03-18T09:13:00.010+08:00

I first learnt about the Doldrums as a child when I played a board game that was based on Sir Francis Chichester's successful attempt to singlehandedly sail around the world. He sailed the Gypsy Moth from Plymouth, England in August 1966 and returned after 226 days, having made one stop in Sydney Australia.

The Doldrums is a low pressure area around the equator between two belts of trade winds. It has calm periods where the winds disappear and can trap sailing boats for days or weeks.

Samuel Taylor Coleridge's The Rime of the Ancient Mariner made mention of the Pacific Doldrums: "All in a hot and copper sky, the bloody sun at noon, right up above the mast did stand, no bigger than the moon. Day after day, day after day, we stuck nor breath nor motion; as idle as a painted ship, upon a painted ocean."

I've been feeling in the doldrums lately - like a sailing vessel bobbing up and down on the ocean on a windless day. Maybe it's time to make a change (note picture taken from http://kids.earth.nasa.gov/)

The Father's Love

2008-02-01T15:57:00.000+08:00

I found a touching music video by Jimmy Wayne on a father's love. Click on the following URL to enjoy the video - http://www.godtube.com/view_video.php?viewkey=a8c74c2a72126cf63d93

A Time for Everything

2007-11-30T14:20:00.000+08:00

There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under heaven: a time to be born and a time to die, a time to plant and a time to uproot, a time to kill and a time to heal, a time to tear down and a time to build, a time to weep and a time to laugh, a time to mourn and a time to dance, a time to scatter stones and a time to gather them, a time to embrace and a time to refrain, a time to search and a time to give up, a time to keep and a time to throw away, a time to tear and a time to mend, a time to be silent and a time to speak, a time to love and a time to hate, a time for war and a time for peace.

Cycle of Seasons

2007-09-18T20:49:00.001+08:00

I like this excerpt from Parker Palmer's book "Let Your Life Speak" - I know people who say, "Life is like a game of chance - some win and some lose." But that metaphor can create a fatalism about losing or an obsession with beating the odds. I know of other people who say, "Life is like a battlefield - you get the enemy or the enemy gets you." But that metaphor can result in enemies around every corner and a constant sense of siege.

Seasons is a wise metaphor for the movement of life. It suggests that life is neither a battlefield or a game of chance but something infinitely richer, more promising, more real. The notion that our lives are like the eternal cycle of the seasons does not deny the struggle or joy, loss or gain, darkness or light, but encourages us to embrace it all - and to find in all of it opportunities for growth.

If we live close to nature in an agricultural society, the seasons as a metaphor and fact would continually frame our lives. But the master metaphor of our era comes from manufacturing - we don't believe that we "grow" our lives - we believe that we "make" them. From an early age, we absorb our culture's arrogant conviction that we manufacture everything, reducing the world to mere "raw material" that lacks all value until we impose our designs and labour on it.

Unlike "raw material" on which we make all the demands, we need to reform our culture and ego toward ways of thinking and doing and being that are rooted in respect for the living ecology of life. We are here not only to transform the world but also to be transformed. Transformation is difficult so it is good to know that there is comfort as well as challenge in the metaphor of life as a cycle of seasons. Illumined by this image, we see that we are not alone in the universe. We are participants in a vast community of being, and if we open ourselves to its guidance, we can learn anew how to live in this great and gracious community of truth. We can, and we must - if we want our sciences to be humane, our institutions to be sustaining, our healings to be deep, our lives to be true.

Which one am I?

2007-06-11T16:21:00.000+08:00

I am earth - the soil that supports and nurtures living things. I give solid footing to those around me.

I am wind - the power that sweeps away old fears and carries new ideas like springtime.

I am fire - igniting the power and passion in others. I give warmth on cold, wintry nights and clear the way for new beginnings.

I am water - irresistible. No obstacle can stop me. I go over, under, around and through. I change forms to steam or ice or rain. I bring life wherever I go. I touch everyone I meet.

This wonderful poem entitled "Meditation" by Laurie Beth Jones describes the kind of impact we can have on this world. I think in different situations and with different people, we may choose to take on a different role.

Formula for Happiness

2007-06-04T17:33:00.000+08:00

Recently I was watching the BBC documentary "The Happiness Formula" and discovered that the secret to a long and healthy life is simply to be happy. Having that disposition can actually add an average of 9 years to your life. Apparently, once we have a home, food and clothes, having extra money does not seem to make us happier.

The key ingredients to happiness are: (1) having social relationships (apparently friendships can ward off germs!); (2) having meaning in life – a belief in something bigger than yourself; and (3) having goals that are linked to your values and which you enjoy. So much for hankering after that condominium or BMW.

Messy Nests

2007-05-23T18:12:00.000+08:00

This is a wonderful Russian fable quoted in Kegan & Lahey's book "How the way we talk can CHANGE the way we work: 7 languages for transformation" (I highly recommend it).

One day a woodsman set out to the forest to chop wood. As he walked across the icy expanse, he spied a little bird freezing to death on the frozen tundra. He took pity on it, picked it up and held it close as he made his way to the forest. The little bird drew warmth from his body and began to come back to life. But when the woodman reached the forest, he had a problem. He needed both arms to cut down the trees and both arms to carry the wood home. He could not longer keep the bird, but he did not want to reconsign it to the icy end from which he had just saved it. He was not sure what to do. Then he noticed in the distance that a herd of cattle must have just passed by because they left their brown, round calling cards dotting the horizon. The woodsman thought the solution to his problem might be found in those cowpies, still fresh and steaming in the artic air. He walked over and selected the biggest, steamiest cowpie he could find and nestled the bird into it. He went on his business, chopped his wood and went home. The little bird hunkered down in his new home - this rich, fertile, fragrant, organic environment. He felt so good about it that he began to sing so well and so loud that a lone wolf not far away, followed the sound to its source and ate the little bird for lunch. The moral of the story is:

Whoever got you into this big stinking mess like the one you have is not necessarily your enemy.
Whoever gets you out of the mess may not be your friend.
When you are up to your neck in it, don't sing!

Ice Cream

2007-05-23T11:23:00.001+08:00

This is my favourite celebration and comfort food (yes, I'm a dessert lover). The feeling of anticipation I get when I walk into an ice cream parlour and the luxury of having so many choices can be "heady". It's one of those treats that I save for special occasions.

My favourite haunt is Island Cremery at Serene Centre in Singapore. It has local flavours like Kopi (strong local coffee) and Ice Kachang (a great ice dessert for tropical weather). It's a wonderful place to catch up with a friend or just sit down in a corner and "process stuff". The only change I'd make to ice cream is to slow down the melt-down so that I can savour it longer :-)

Learning the guitar

2007-04-03T17:09:00.000+08:00

I've been taking weekly guitar lessons for 9 months now and have progressed from muffled plunking sounds to distinguishable chords and strums. At several points I had wanted to give up, especially when I compared myself with classmates who seem to move nimbly and effortlessly between chords and rhythms and wondered if I was ever going to get there. But when I thought of how far I had come - from ground zero to being able to play simple songs and rhythms - I take heart. Now I am grappling with finger plucking and hammer-ons (it's creating a new and higher note by hammering down on an already ringing string on a new fret) and feel that I am standing at the foot of another mountain. Getting one finger to straddle 3 strings on a fret and pulling off a hammer-on seems an impossible task to me. I am learning about perseverance - maybe this time I'll get there sooner than 9 months!

Hanging out with Kids

2007-03-28T09:24:00.000+08:00

One of my favourite things to do is to hang out with my nephews. They are pre-schoolers and are teaching me alot about life, particularly what's really important and how to have fun. It is therapeutic for me. Sunday evenings is family time and whenever we can, we'd go to the park with their scooters and convert it into a Formula One race track with a digital stopwatch and all. Another favourite activity is gravity defying swings - I'd run forward, grabbing the swing with kid in tow and let go at the last minute. It's the simple things in life that makes us happy!

A Legacy

2007-03-27T13:00:00.000+08:00

Recently, a friend of mine passed away after a 3-year battle with cancer. She had started an outreach program for women with the vision of "empowering women to empower women" - her goal was to equip and encourage women to help troubled women. She had put up her home for rental and moved into a bigger place so that she could have more space to hold events, life skills courses and counselling sessions. With the help of friends, she organised parties to raise awareness as well as had fun clubs like jewellry making, simple cooking classes and movie nights.

When she first started on this journey, we were reluctantly supportive. Most of us are working professionals and felt apprehensive about getting involved with "troubled women". We have no training in counselling nor did we have time on our hands. In her last 6 months, she had planted some seeds in her gentle and unassuming way in the hope of having some of us build on the foundation she laid.

Since her death, one lady has said "yes" to taking up the role of Program Director and a few of us have formed a committee to continue the initiatives that she started as well as raise funds for this cause. A couple more have signed up for counselling courses so that they can be equipped to help those in need and a few trained counsellors may volunteer their services pro bono. What she founded is taking a life of its own. It's made me see the truth in this statement - "the seed must die in order for it to bear fruit".

Changing perspective

2007-03-12T19:03:00.000+08:00

I've been shortsighted since I was nine from reading all kinds of storybooks in bed. Putting on my glasses really does make a difference for me. Recently, I've acquired a new pair of glasses called "coaching" and it's changing the way I look at people and myself. I especially like this statement that a coach shared - mentoring is imparting to a person my knowledge and experience; coaching is drawing out from the person what is already in them - it's believing that they already have the answers and simply providing the support that they need to find them. That's truly empowering!

Little Red Dot

2007-03-04T12:20:00.000+08:00

Singapore (or what we sometimes call "the little red dot" - a term made famous by Tommy Koh and Chang Li Lim's book of the same name) is where I was raised and now live. Much has been said about this tiny nation, its achievements and idiosyncracies. For me, it's where most of my family are; it's relatively safe; most things are well run; hawker food is cheap with regulated hygiene standards, public transportation is good. It's a hodge podge of cultures and influences.

Like Singapore, I've bits of different things - part Peranakan and part Teochew; part Asian and part Western in my thinking. I'm also of the "in-between" generation in Singapore, old enough to remember when there were rubber estates with the reek of vulcanized rubber and tugboats huddled together by the godowns of downtown Singapore, yet young enough to enjoy video games, roller coasters and fast food.

The Rambutan

2007-03-01T14:25:00.001+08:00

I've decided to name this blog "Rambutan Tree" because it holds alot of happy memories for me. One of my earliest recollections as a child was climbing up the low hanging branches of the trees in my grand-aunt's house and perching on its branches while I helped myself to the succulent, sweet fruit. Every now and then, I would flick off the little black ants which scampered up and down the branches and dropped a few fruits down to my brother who was afraid of heights :-)

Rambutan or nephelium lappaceum is a tropical tree, native to South East Asia. There are a number of varieties (including the yellow fruited kind) and they grow to a height of 10-20 m. The best part, of course, is the round or oval fruit. You can pop off the reddish skin covered with soft spines by squeezing it in between your hands (you may get a squirt or two of juice in your eye). Your reward is the sweet, succulent flesh which is hard to resist(note though that the seed is toxic). Needless to say, it's my favourite fruit.

Like the rambutan, I was born in SE Asia, in Kuching, Sarawak - the year of my birth saw a bumper crop of durians, so much so that they were thrown out and rotted on the streets. My mother attributes my aversion to this other tropical fruit to the stench that hung over the town like a stale blanket. To this day, the great divide in my family has been those who love and hate the durian fruit.