I Belong September 9, 2008

During Shar’s ROM a few months ago, Dawn told me about how she wrote a song after hearing our church wedding message given by Pastor Wendy.

I think there’s something very nurturing about Pastor Wendy’s ministry. She may not give the most theologically verbose sermons on earth, or organise things nicely in PowerPoint form, but she never fails to touch people with her heartfelt, Godfelt thoughts.I have seen (and experienced) her pray for people and they (usually females) cry even if she says the simplest of words.

And in this case, God used her to touch the musically-talented Dawn to write and sing a very special, comforting song. What a beautiful ripple of blessings this has been.

I Belong
V1
I’m just a sentimental freak
Standing at the crossroad of hello and goodbye
The further I walk the deeper I’m lost
Where do I begin
Where do I begin

V2
Give me a home where I belong
Somewhere this wild heart can stop running and breath
I need a place to end this insanity
Bring me back again
To where you begin

Chorus
Cos I belong, I belong to you
I belong, I belong to you
You’ve given me the sweetest hope that I could hold on to
You’ve given me eternity in my heart
In my heart

V3
I’ve found a place to lay my head
A sweet salvation for this darkest hour
I would have lost heart unless I’d believed
In your loving goodness
In this broken world

Bridge
I had to throw my faith in something I could not see
When I believed in what seemed like emptiness
You gave me security

You can view a video of Dawn performing this song here.

The Wisdom from Stories September 2, 2008

Some interesting things after listening to Nury Vittachi at the Asian Congress of Storytellers today.

- Two of the most prominent and influential figures in history were Confucius and Jesus. They were also storytellers, who imparted life’s lessons through the parable form.

- Why do most folktales always have the heroes’ parents die early on in the story? Because most of the time, the story is trying to tell us this:  There will be a day when you will be alone, but you will be fine.

For some strange reason, these are two things I really needed to hear. That Jesus saw the value in stories. That problems seem to get lonelier as one grows older, but I have been taught all this while by loved ones - things will be fine.

What a glorious feelin’ August 24, 2008

It rained the whole time we were in Bintan this weekend. I think under normal circumstances, I would have been annoyed, because this is about the only time I get to try to get the pasty white skin a little rosier/tanner. But this time round, I was just so grateful to be given the chance to do nothing so I just read Gaiman/Murakami books to whisk myself into another world, had buffet breakfasts, drank a lot of spa drinks (lemongrass-ginger rocks) and walked along the beach under the drizzle.

Since we are on rain-related topics, I also managed to squeeze out a short essay just before the trip for a little anthology in tribute to my favourite musical, my wonderful childhood and good ol’ rain.

Hugh’s a hit! January 6, 2008

[Warning: Lao lao groupie alert]

I used to bemoan the fact that they don’t make men like Gene Kelly and Fred Astaire anymore - male performers who could prance around and carry a tune and act without the use of swinging chandeliers or collapsing helicopters or dressing up as an animal/puppet to get attention on stage (and be just as enigmatic on screen).

I take my words back (albeit a little late). They both have reincarnated and returned in the form of one man - Hugh Jackman. Now does this Aussie dag get Broadway or what. In this opening act of the 2004 Tony Awards ceremony, you can also check out his impossibly yoga-like high kicks to “One Night Only”. Hubba.

He’s also Wolverine for some blokey credibility.

Hubba hubba.

Wise nuggets November 25, 2007

While researching on a writer whom I have never read any works of (because I will be curiously attending a talk by him) , I was grateful to read some timely quotes which I need to absorb at this point of my life:

You no longer live in other people’s shadows nor treat other people’s shadows as imaginary enemies. You just walked out of their shadows, stopped making up absurdities and fantasies, and are now in a vast emptiness and tranquillity.

It is only in the gesture of tranquilly prolonging this life and striving to comprehend the mystery of this moment in time that freedom of existence is achieved, for in solitarily scrutinizing the self the perceptions of the self by others loses all relevance.

-  One Man’s Bible (because this is exactly the reminder I need every time I feel overwhelmed)

A writer is an ordinary person, perhaps he is more sensitive but people who are highly sensitive are often more frail. A writer does not speak as the spokesperson of the people or as the embodiment of righteousness. His voice is inevitably weak but it is precisely this voice of the individual that is more authentic.

What I want to say here is that literature can only be the voice of the individual and this has always been so. Once literature is contrived as the hymn of the nation, the flag of the race, the mouthpiece of a political party or the voice of a class or a group, it can be employed as a mighty and all-engulfing tool of propaganda. However, such literature loses what is inherent in literature, ceases to be literature, and becomes a substitute for power and profit.

- Nobel Lecture in 2000 (a comfort to know that not everyone sells out)