No Good Times, but Good Experiences

" A personal revolution is more important than a social one"

A few days ago, I received an e-mail from my old college, Trinity Foudation Studies. In the e-mail were pictures of current year students having fun. I miss those days. I consider my year in Trinity the best year I had in education. Drama classes, enjoyable tutorials, friendly and sincere lecturers, special events, and most of all, close friends whom I spent most of that year trying to find. Now? University... Sigh... So many people, but so few willing to make friends. Everyone in tutorials seem to be interested in only tutorial work. They just come and go. No one wants to make new friends. There is almost nothing in uni that brings its diverse students together as friends.

I look at the pictures, and I look back at my one and a half year at uni, and there was a longing within me for times like college year. Uni seemed so dry, so eventless, so empty. I can't remember any social event organised by university which I truly enjoyed, unlike Trinity, no Drama Week, no Big Noise, no Slave Auction, no fun. Good friends are scarce, good times almost do not exist. Then I asked myself how would I define a "good time"? Is a good time several moments of exhiliration, several moments of giving most of myself into emotions, or several moments of enjoying the fact that I have so many friends? It could be one of the three, or one of the many definitions that I failed to come up with, but I figured that what I should treasure more than good times are good experiences. I might even equate a good experience with a good time if I didn't think that good experiences are more valuable.

So what is a good experience? To me, a good experience is defined by its after effects. For an experience to be good, we have to come out of the experience intellectually or spiritually (both aren't much different to me) enriched. We must come out with a stronger, wiser, more nimble, more flexible and a more open mind. Have I gotten wiser since the day I left Trinity til the moment I am typing this post? I have to give that answer a "hell yeah". This means that although there haven't been many good times at uni, the past 18 months were filled with good experiences. They weren't filled with social events, there were no amateur student plays, no college students dancing on the streets, but there was lots of quietness, tranquility, calmness, and lots of enlightening moments. As I came close to filling the emptiness of the past by introspection, the process was accelerated when I came across someones blog which was where I got the above quote from. I still think that I didn't have much fun at uni so far, but I know that I have evolved spiritually, and for that, I am no less, if no more, happy and joyful.

Waking into Loneliness

We were in the living room, sitting at opposite sides of a rectangular table. "Home was alright," she said, "I just wasn't used to the fact that I couldn't visit her anymore. She left so suddenly." "Such is the solitude of life. People come and go, whether we like it or not. Takes time to get used to it, but if there's anything, I'll be here" I assured her. We sat in silence, looking at the table, deep in our thoughts. Then I looked at her, and admired how attractive she was, one of the prettiest friends that I have, but never thought she was really right for me. She looked back with her prominently bright eyes, and held her gaze for as long as I held mine, which was broken when she stood up and walked around the table to sit on the chair next to me and then continued gazing.

She leaned over in a smooth motion and gently pushed her lips against mine. I was a little surprised, but showed none of it because of both the warmth of the kiss and the warmth I felt within. I miss this feeling, the feeling of eternal comfort and security, the feeling of letting down all my boundaries and living the moment of complete contentment. She drew her head back slowly, continuing her gaze from just now. "I never knew you felt this way" I said. She shrugged and replied, " I didn't know too." We wrapped out arms around each other, feeling the moment of uninterrupted and undisturbed joy, free of all sorrows, free of all pain...

The noise of the wind made me open my eyes. It blew hard against the window above my bed. I saw the floor of my room, clothes and papers scattered all over. I turned and looked forward at the dull white ceiling. Empty silence, empty sound of the wind. Empty heart. Damned wind, it was a good dream. The short lived feeling of eternal happiness thrown out like throwing water from a bucket. I sat upwards and couldn't help but think, "Was that a sign?" Nah, I've had such dreams before. They never mean anything, just the effect of my mind organizing memory. I took one as "sign" once. Turned me into an emotional jelly.

I sat there and thought of all the girls I know, and how I have been longing to connect with someone at a deeper level, but haven't dared to. Most of them are nice people, but most of them don't seem to be right for me. Perhaps i'm just being too choosy. Bringing a relationship to another level isn't just about hugs and kisses and having someone in my arms, it's way more than that, which might justify my choosiness. Airy-fairy feelings that we get from being close to someone is pleasant, but won't last for long. Sigh... many times, I wish it isn't so. But it is. So I continue to restrain myself to this emptiness, this lonliness, til I find the right person...

Hatred Rehabilitation

A few days ago, as I was walking to a friend's place on Drummond Street, a car zoomed past me with its windows down and the head of its passengers sticking out yelling some crap at me. I wasn't sure of the crap that they were yelling about, but i'm sure that they were certain forms of insults. Why do people take pleasure in hurting others this way? Why do people like to indulge themselves in emotions such as hatred and anger? Even after the car zoomed by, the first thoughts that came to my mind before deciding to divert my energy into asking those constructive questions were "Damned Aussies!"

In trying to answer those questions, I reflected upon how I was progressing in my attempt to remove hatred from the concoction of emotions that I feel every hour of my days and nights. I noticed improvement when I thought of how I became more sincerely friendly towards those whom I have once regarded as people whom I hate to meet, such as the close-minded, the ignorant, the bimbotic. I also noticed that there was still room for improvement when I thought of how irritated I got when my father was nagging me about allocating time in exams and how hatred slowly consumed me when I thought of how I was doing all the cooking and lots of cleaning when my housemate was just sitting on his ass watching the Simpsons.

Hatred can be such a drug. We know that it's bad, but when it is evoked, many of us just inhale all of it in and slowly transform into the Angry Beast. Then we unleash our fury upon our surroundings. Glass vases, wooden chopsticks, concrete walls, friends, foes, and family, all become victims. Just like drugs, we feel high after venting the volcanic air. Just like drugs, we shrivel when guilt sets in. Thankfully for me, almost everytime before I turn into the Angry Beast, the cure for this drug kicks in: happiness. However, the fact that hatred even begins to set in so often really narrows my mind and hinders my actions. So a few weeks ago, I have made conscious efforts not to hate and not to grow angry.

But the question of why people like to indulge in such emotions is still unanswered. Why do we sometimes feel like bitchin'? Why are we sometimes in a "pissy" mood? Why do we polarize our hatred towards something by discussing how bad it is? As I reflect upon my short and meager history, the only conclusion that I can come up with is that since young, we are surrounded by hatred. In cartoons, good guys hate the baddies, while bad guys hate the goodies. In the news, we condemn the psycho killer without considering his history. In primary school (or my chinese school at least), teachers punish the under-achievers and the disobedient. In families, parents gossip about the ill-behaviour of other people while their children listen passively. Although many of us may think that we were treated with love and care since young, there are always small and subtle bits of bitter passion that are engraved within our characters. Perhaps that is why many of us love to hate.

Apart from that, I cannot think of any other explanation. I'd welcome any suggestions. But for now, as some wise man said, I shall "learn about life by looking backwards, and live it by leaning forwards."

Possibly the Ultimate Advice on Career

A friend Gad asked me for general advice regarding which course he should choose and which university should he enter when he gets to Melbourne. He was one of the many students who is struggling between choosing the university course of his passion, or the university course which is more practical. The advice that I gave him was something that I had not thought of while I was choosing my course, and after I gave him my advice, I realised that I myself am not doing the right course.

I'm sure many people whom we have seeked advice regarding this matter, people such as our teachers, elder siblings or cousins, our parents, will tell us that we have to choose something that is practical. What do they mean by practical? Well, i'm sure many will agree that "practical" in this case involves achieving a degree of certainty in earning enough money for a comfortable or more than a comfortable living in the future. If this is the definition of "practicality" when it comes to choosing our uni course, then I urge those who are still choosing their course not to take this into consideration at all.

Most parents who read the last sentence will probably go "This stupid boy who still hasn't gone past his twenty years on earth doesn't know the crap that is oozing out of the hole in his face". True, I may still be too immature or inexperienced with life to have my say on this, but the reason to my conclusion has nothing to do with the belief that "Money isn't everything" or "Money doesn't bring happiness" or "Not all our goals in life are to earn millions of dollars". Money is bleeding important. It might not bring happiness, it might not be our goal to have enough money to wipe our asses with 100 dollar bills, but it is bleeding important. From the simple oats that I eat for breakfast to the mansion that Donald Trump lives in, it all involves an exchange of money. The course that we choose however, has very little to do with it.

The statement "Many millionaires out there don't even graduate from high-school" is a cliche, but the answer to how they do it is not. For numerous times my housemate has told me about the millionaires in Indonesia who have not even been to high-school, who started off as labourers and some how worked their way to riches. After that, we'd wonder about how they did it, and then go on to question how relevant the things we learn in our Bachelor of Commerce course, the most "practical" of courses is to getting rich. Then I realised that this most "practical" of courses will not ensure any security or comfort at all.

The Bachelor of Commerce course, and many other courses available are teaching us how to be employees. True, with a B.Commerce degree it might be easier for us to get a job after we graduate, but will it ensure us comfort and security in a longer run? Will the things we learn equip us with the knowledge to earn enough money for us to lead satisfying, let alone extravagant lives? I don't believe so. True, it will provide us with a good "Launchpad", but what about after-launch? I believe that it is not what we know, but how we use what we know that will make us successful. We can be successful if we correctly use what we learned from a B.Commerce course, from a B.Arts course, from Kindergarden, and especially from life itself. We must know what we possess that others don't, what we know that others don't, and who we know that others don't. In economic terms, we must know our Comparative Advantage, then apply it to earning our comfort.

A friend Dave told me about an aunty who had a degree in literature and was doing well in the business realm because of her ability in writing and understanding people. Dr. Phil (yes, I am a fan) says that "To become self-adequate we should know what we can do that others can't and what our characters possess that makes us unique instead of copying someone who is deemed as successful". In Robin Ryan's book "Winning Resumes", he says that " If we want our resumes to be noticed, we must flaunt our assests!" So instead of trying to obtain the assets of "successful" or "practical" people, like what we are trying to do in "practical" courses, shouldn't we be taking up courses that we are passionate about, and then flaunt the assets of our passion?

Strange how all the career advisors I went to never told me this...

Carefree and Guiltfree

(This is a sequel to the last post. Do read it before going on with this one.)

I have hurt people before. I have inflicted pain upon good spirits that deserve none of what I have done to them. I have said and done things that became the arrows of an evil Legolas and struck people whom I loved. I have also done nothing at times when I should be doing something which sent more arrows of sorrow, arrows of despair flying everywhere, hurting the innocent who were close to me. The worst of all was that, I hurt people simply because I acted like myself. Just a few days ago, I found out that I did it again to a friend whom I got close to recently. Just a few days ago, I found out again when I received a letter from a family member saying that I wasn't spending time with her sincerely the last time I was home.

In most fantasy Role Playing Games, there is always a particular spell that causes damage to a character when that character damages someone else. It real life, I believe that spell is known as guilt. I learned from several books that every emotion we feel has a purpose. For a while, I wondered what guilt is for. The answer was simple: We feel guilt after we realise that some action performed by us before is wrong. Although "wrong" is a very relative term, we feel guilty probably to deter us from repeating that "wrong" action. So it can be said that guilt is there to refine our behaviour.

For me, and probably for many other people, one of the many actions that I consider "wrong" would be to emotionally hurt people by acting in a careless or selfish manner. So realising that we've hurt someone emotionally after we have done it would probably cause us to feel guilty. After feeling guilty, we would take precautions not to perform the same crime to avoid hurting the feelings of others, because in effect, it makes us avoid feeling guilty. This is how guilt refines our behaviour. More than a week ago, I believed in being brutally honest with people as I believed that would make them realise their flaws and rectify their character. That was before I hurt someone by being brutally honest, which aggravated the situation. I felt guilty, and decided that I should not always be brutally honest. Because many of us want to avoid the pain of guilt, many of us go to great lengths to refine our own character. People such as myself like receiving criticisms on my character because this way, I can refine myself before I do something to make myself feel guilty or any other painful emotion.

By now, the paradox that I mentioned in my last post should be obvious. In life, we should not fall in the trap of worrying about what other people feel about us, yet we must always consider what effects our actions will have on people's feelings. To me, this is one of the toughest balance to achieve. To embrace this paradox, we must take great pains just to figure out whose feelings should not be hurt, to what extent can we disturb people's emotions, so on and so forth. Yes, it does take a hell lot of effort, but hey, it's worth it! Right now, I can be as cool as Samuel L. Jackson, and be as sensitive as the Fab Five!

Plastic Surgery, Plastic Actions, Plastic Life

During the past few days, I am somewhat happier than before. I am also more nervous because my Microeconomics and Quantitative Methods exams which are just around the corner keep showing their ugly faces within my thoughts, but that isn't what this post is about. This happiness is not the one you get from winning a lottrey ticket, neither is it the kind of happiness that you get from helping people. I believe this happiness is the effect of taking one step close to enlightenment.

It is strange how this all sparked from something as trivial my decision to finally watch Pulp Fiction. It was an awesome movie. But what was coolest about it was Samuel L.Jackson's character. He was a boisterous and God-loving hitman who quotes a rather cold passage from the Bible before taking-out his victims. He was so cool that I almost decided to assimilate his behaviour into my own, but realised that I might just end up being wanna-be. So I analysed his character more closely and came to a somewhat enlightening conclusion.

I have actually thought of this before- what makes some characters in the movies so cool, and why so many people who endevour to be like these characters turn out to be failures. It struck me that these cool characters are cool, not because they put effort into making themselves look cool, but it's because that they don't give a rat's left ass-cheek about what people think of them. It is not how they dress, how they talk, or how they shoot people. Rather, it is a certain outlook on life of theirs that sets them apart from the rest. It is their liberation from the anxiety that many of us suffer from constantly thinking of how we seem in the eye's of others that makes them so appealing to audiences. It was Samuel L.Jackson's disregard of what people thought of his mini-afro, the things he says in public and the things he does that makes people like me think he is cool.

A few weeks ago, I attended a Buddhist Society meeting where three nun's, preferably called Bikkhus, from Indonesia came to talk about Buddhism concepts in general and how to apply them to daily life. At one point, she spoke about how there was (and still is) a discrimination against females walking the path of monkhood and how females cannot achieve Nirvana. This severely hindered her from following her inner calling to become a Bikkhu. She then told us in Indonesian Malay that somehow, she decided that she would not let herself fall into the trap of discrimination and went on to follow her calling. That pulled the inspirational strings of my heart, an stirred many thoughts in my mind. Although I thought that she was more holy and enlightened than many of us, I definitely didn't think she was cool. Which was why I needed Samuel L. Jackson to give me a few more nudges to realise the flaws in my character.

Those weren't the only nudges. A few days later, my housemate turned on the TV and the southern-american accent of Doctor Phil echoed throughout our flat. Coincidentally, that day's show revolved around the topic of self-image because he was counselling people who had numerous cosmetic surgeries. To no surprise, the root of these people's problems was that they were too concerned about how other people thought they look like. When people made small albeit slightly hurtful comments, they took them so seriously that they were willing to spend thousands of dollars to alter their features. In other words, they were willing to spend thousands of dollars just to wipe these comments out of their daily lives. As the Doctor said, "Plastic surgery is just a superficial solution. It will not solve the true problem that is within yourselves".

It took a Bikkhu, a hitman, and a psychologist to deliver the blow that made me say "enough!" to plastic. Too much effort has been wasted on trying to put myself in the good light of other people's eyes. I decided that unless I am going for an interview, going for an audition, or getting involved in an activity that requires someone to be pleased, I will no longer regard the world as a stage and I will no longer regard myself as a daily actor. When thoughts such as " Won't people think it's weird?" or "Is this the proper way to bahave?" or "What will people think of me" flood my mind, I will purge them with the holiest and most cleansing of phrases: "Fuck It!!!".

HOWEVER, that is not the end. Along with this newfound happiness comes a paradox of life which is what the next post will be about... so stay tuned...

My gratitude

Thanks to all those who bother to read and comment on my posts. To Charming Garlic, I'm not sure what happened, but I didn't remove that comment. Please post it again if possible. I love to read and assimilate other people's thoughts,however harsh they can be, into my mind. This way, it just keeps getting broader and broader...

It seems that this blog is more than a diary. It's another crossroad of life.

In the Light of her problems

I must thank Carolyn for sharing with us her problems during the last OCF meeting. It really put several things in perspective.

First was that her problem really dwarfed most of our problems. Here we are, worrying about our entry to uni, worrying about our exams, worrying about our relationships, while there is a man worrying about losing his sight. No offense Carolyn, but I dare to say that your father in some way has taken his gift of sight for granted. Perhaps we should slow down with our so called "goals" in life, lessen the worries and take time to appreciate what we already have. Some people study while they eat. Some people study while they shit. Perhaps we should put our books down and focus on appreciating the sensations coming from our tastebuds and the sensation we get from letting go of waste before we lose these simple yet wonderful gifts of nature.

That night I prayed hard for Carolyn's father. It was the hardest prayer I have ever made and I never knew that it could be that exhausting. The next day, at Uni, I was approached by this guy from an animal rights activist group. He showed me pictures of how animals are being tortured for sport, how they suffer for our culinary pleasures, and how they suffer for our traditions. Then it occured to me how much pain is there in this world. I know Buddha teaches that life is suffering, but it was at that moment when I realised the scale of suffering that occur across the globe. So what do I do about it? Is there anything I can do about it? Will it make a difference?
Should I exhaust myself and pray and try to help all these beings in need? Well, I once told myself that although the parts we play for the world are often insignificant, we must still accomplish them. Otherwise, there might be no more world...

As I type this, the organs within my rib-cage are drowning with guilt because I realised that my own father once suffered from a cataract problem. But I didn't worry, I didn't pray, I didn't put much effort in helping him shoulder the burden. What should I blame? My immaturity? My ignorance? My lack of empathy? Sigh... All I can do now is be thankful that I have become aware of this, and shall take steps to ammend my character. It also seems that I owe my father an apology...

Thanks Carolyn for the light...

Days of the Papers

Life is a solitary journey. Our path might intersect with the path of others, exchange lessons learned, but the rest of the journey is continued in solitude. To be attached to the person at the intersection might hinder spiritual growth as we might camp and loiter around the intersection and not go on with our journey. We must therefore learn to appreciate solitude.

This truth seems to swell during exam days, and it seems that I have not learn to appreciate solitude. Everyone else is so engrossed in their books that they hardly have the time to notice you. Friends will help you with your work if they know your work, but they hardly invest time in things like motivation. I have problem with studying motivation, but no one to help motivate me. I hope that I can find some inner strength before I take a solitary plunge.

At least this reminds me to always take notice of those who are always lurking in the background, and those who we think are waving but are actually drowning.

IGNITION

Since I thought of starting a diary, might as well start a blog. A word of caution: These contents are made to challenge minds and expand horizons. Therefore, the blogger is not responsible for any psychological damages inflicted upon any reader such as depression, chronic rage, hysterical happiness etc. Comments can be as harsh as Chinese Primary School teachers. Enjoy! And thanks Fie of Fieguratively for prompting this.