The Beauty of Flowers

Living a life of gratitude on Day 25 of a 30 Day Liquid Diet. Today I am grateful for the beauty of flowers.

I spent several hours today visiting people who are old or ill. One was a visit to the doctor with the old folks, and another was a visit to the hospital to see how a friend was doing. Visiting a friend in hospital became a reunion of sorts as a mutual friend turned up there. Hey, party time! :)

My friend insisted on sending me home, and on the way she asked if I'd like to buy flowers because she was planning to do so. I nearly fell off my seat! Buy flowers? Of course! I love buying flowers! I just haven't been buying them for myself for a while now.

And so after a very long time, I got myself some unsual orchids and my fav orange Indian roses. So very beautiful. I arranged them, and touched them and felt the silky velvet of their petals and rejoiced to have such beauty within my grasp.

Flowers are very special to me. They are fragile yet hardy, with soft petals on hard stems, have a myriad of colours and shades, and whether fragrant or not, they are so beautiful. Even though they wilt and die like any other living thing, and their life seems so short, they bring so much joy to those who truly appreciate them.

I'm enjoying my flowers and relishing the thought of spoiling myself more often with flowery treats. I simply love them. So grateful for flowers, and their beauty today. The mind and heart rejoices to look upon such things of beauty. We innately recognise true beauty when we see it, especially in nature. Nothing speaks so eloquently of beauty to me. Blessed!

Thanks for reading,

Pav

A Lovely, Lively Day

Living with gratitude on Day 24 of a 30 day liquid diet. Today I am grateful for all the lively people in my life.

I had a poor night's sleep yesterday and woke up thinking of the 3 things I wanted to do today. Make it to church, visit my kids' Grandparents, and take my kids out to dinner. Would I be able to manage it all while feeling quite like a squashed cabbage?

My son had ordered Macs at 130am, and despite telling the delivery guy not to ring the doorbell but to call him instead.... the doorbell got rung. And I was woken up and I didn't get back to sleep till 430am. Up with the larks, as usual, at 630am, I made it to church for the 815am Mass. Popped by to visit Grandparents and stayed for 5 hours, and rounded up the kids later for dinner over a couple of hours.

Flying on steroid fumes and IsoCal/Resource alone, I have no idea how I managed all that with poor sleep. I realised that part of me was craving a quiet curl up away from the noisy world but that if I wanted to do all that I had planned, I would have to face the world, and all the lively people in it. And so I determined to get through it, one step at a time.

At Mass, I was surrounded by very lively types. A pair of ladies chatted beside me throughout Mass. A mother and her son chatted a fair bit right behind me, with Mum singing quite off key and son snorting through his morning rhinitis as if his nose was a blocked elephant trunk. In front of me, a family struggled with a disobedient youngest son who enjoyed taunting Mum and disrespecting Dad and smacking his siblings. Aiyoh. I could barely focus. Such a lively Mass, but this squashed cabbage decided to just accept it all in good stride and get to the next event of the day. Don't sweat the small stuff, especially if it isn't yours!

Visiting the kids' grandparents is always lovely. They are so old, and enjoy a good visit and company. Grandma can talk to me for 5 hours nonstop and so we almost did just that, except for 30 mins when she noticed my eyes glaze over and I attempted to snooze.

Enter the boy next door who decided right then to try and be a drummer. Lovely. Sigh. No rest for me, and so Grandma and I continued chatting. Truly lovely to connect and be available for someone in need. So much of my day passed surrounded by voices vying for my attention and I was glad to have these lively people in my life. Somehow this squashed cabbage was lifted from one moment to the next.

The last event was dinner with my kids. Such a beautiful outing to try Taiwanese porridge at Goodwood Park Hotel. Reasonably priced "eat a bucket load of food" buffet. A friend of mine wants to take me there some time so I decided to check it out with my kids. The kids stuffed themselves while I fantasized about coming back when I can eat.

We chatted, laughed and were silly. They were so lively, and I found myself caught up in it all too. My kids are my most favourite people in the world. I am biased, I know. I hung on to every word they said, imagining what it will be like once they are gone from my life and silence reigns. There'll be time enough for curling up in quiet then. I want to remember every precious moment that happens now.

And so I managed to get through a grace filled day surrounded by noise and animated conversations, was blessed and hopefully a blessing too, and tonight I shall enter into a blissful and well deserved sleep. Perhaps I shall dream of my porridge lunch in town with a friend this Friday afternoon, the actual end of my fast from food. I look forward to it. It's getting harder each day and I am so hungry. I'm almost there. I am grateful for the lively people upon whose voices I have wafted along today, and that the very presence and love of family has been reason enough to keep going. So blessed to have a lovely, lively day!

Thanks for reading,

Pav

In the Absence of Miraculous Healing

Living in gratitude on Day 23 of a 30 day liquid diet. Today I am grateful for suffering. Yes, even for suffering.

I was asked a question today, in response to my reluctance to go to a particular church meeting for a healing miracle. "Don't you want to get healed?!"

Excuse me? Er... of course, I do! I'd love to be healed! That would be so wonderful. Who wouldn't want to be healed from over two decades of chronic illness and to be able to eat freely again? I just don't believe that I need to run from one healing meeting to another or "pursue healing" to get it. I believe that God need only say the word, and I'd be healed right here, right now.

The fact that it hasn't happened that way simply means, to me, that God has other plans for me. To me, walking and growing in the Christian faith must involve suffering to some extent, largely because we live in an imperfect world fraught with pain and sin, and also because as disciples of Christ, we are no less than Him. He suffered. His mission was one of suffering, culminating with His death on the cross.

We are all called to bear our crosses and follow Him. We can't bear a cross with grace and dignity if we are continuously seeking to offload it at the same time. I believe the offloading of our crosses is up to God's timing and will for our lives. The bearing of the cross is our job in life.

The crosses we bear help shape us. They are meant to draw us closer to God, and deepen our relationship with Him and transform us into His likeness, if we allow them to do so. If we constantly seek to get rid of our crosses how can we learn the lessons they are meant to teach us?

I fear the notion that we are all meant to be blessed and prosperous and happy all the time has robbed many of the opportunity to truly grow their faith through an acceptance of suffering. Suffering grows the soul, teaches it to wait on God, helps the soul focus on the eternal, and can enlarge the heart despite deep pain and hurt.

Do I want to be healed? Of course, I do. Do I enjoy suffering? Of course, I do not. And yet I find I am experiencing suffering in some measure. I have to find a way to make meaning of it all. The best way forward, I feel, is to accept it, embrace it, to make meaning of it, and to surrender it back to God.

It's almost blaming a patient for not being well when you ask them, "Don't you want to get healed?" through your preferred sources of miraculous healing. I've been to these meetings before, and I'm still living with chronic illness. I've known of faith filled people dying of cancer too. Where was their faith, and didn't they want to be healed too? Of course, they did. But God is sovereign and His plans and thoughts and ways are higher than ours. Illness exists, it even persists, and often it kills us. It's a reality we cannot escape in this world.

I find it best to say as Christ did in the Garden of Gethesemane, "Father, if it is possible, let this cup pass me by. Nevertheless, let it be as you, not I, would have it." In other words, "Let your will be done".

To get to this place of even remotely desiring suffering as God's will, and accepting it, is the actual work of faith in our lives, and is echoed by the saints themselves who count their trials and persecutions as blessings. The constant desperate desire to escape pain and suffering, which is loosely viewed as some faith filled fantasy, bypasses the deep and lasting work of God that builds character. So many are weak and their faith is shallow because they would not embrace suffering as God's will for their lives. They turn against suffering, and see it as a sign of a lack of faith. It's all topsy turvy, to me.

Do I want to be healed? Yes, please God, feel free to heal me right now. But I just want to say that even if you don't I'll love you no less. I'm working out my faith in the absence of big miracles, but grateful for all the little ones along the way. I'm counting all my blessings, and learning to view the bad stuff as part of your plan for my life. It's ultimately all good.

I am grateful that even suffering has a place in my life. A thorn in my flesh that may never leave, but that has its purpose. Help me bear my crosses with grace and dignity, Lord, until you lift them from me.

Thanks for reading,

Pav

Kindness from the Wounded Healer

Living in gratitude on Day 22 of a 30 day liquid diet. Today I am grateful for the gift of kindness.

Nothing melts my heart as much as kindness. Kindness is essentially a gift. We don't have to be kind, it's a conscious choice we make that blesses those who give and receive kindness.

Each of us faces our own struggles and hardships in life. Imagine a world where our pains were ameliorated by many, many acts of kindness, random or otherwise. We bless others, especially those who are undeserving, and in so doing, we send out ripples of joy, healing, grace, and mercy. We have the power within us to create so much good for others and for ourselves, and to ease pain, both our own, and that of others.

I believe that in reaching out to others who are wounded we help heal ourselves. It's the only way to heal, really. We are all wounded healers, bearing within us our wounds that may never truly heal though they begin to dim with time, if we allow them. Reaching out with our open wounds enables us to stitch ourselves back together. Accepting kindness from others allows us to help repair those wounds in them, and even the wounds in ourselves. It is truly God's grace and mercy at work restoring life to the damaged soul that yearns for a touch from God and a sign that He is close and cares. God uses the listening heart that says, "Here I am, Lord, use me, wounds and all".

As wounded healers we help heal the world by giving of ourselves, and kindness is the best place to begin because often wounds have their origins in deep and unkind hurt. Imagine the reversal of the pain and hurt when the balm of kindness is applied to these wounds. How beautiful to bring that healing, how marvelous to receive it too.

Today I was blessed by a dear friend of mine whose generosity touched my heart and spoke to my soul. I found myself weeping, and sobbing, and stunned. My heart needed a touch of kindness, and in receiving this particular one, it felt the very caress of God upon it. Healing, from one wounded healer to another, and the reminder that showing and receving kindness is God's love shed abroad in our hearts. I am so grateful for this beautiful kindness, and for my dear friend. I am inspired to acts of generosity and kindness myself, and that's the beauty of living through the healing touch of kindness. You simply want to pass it on.

Thanks for reading,

Pav

An End to a Cycle Of Transformation

Living in gratitude on Day 21 of a 30 day liquid diet. Today I am grateful that every cycle of transformation has its end.

Two nights ago a beautiful male Common Mormon came into my bedroom and landed on my lampshade, drawn, no doubt, to the light. I was thrilled to see it but also wanted it to spend the night outside rather than flapping about my head in the dark. After a few attempts I managed to release it. I've never encountered such a reluctant release... he didn't want to leave and kept flying back in.

The thought briefly crossed my mind that perhaps he was dying, but I thought it best that he died outside, feeling just a little squirmish at the thought of a dead butterfly in my bed. Imagine my sadness to discover that somehow, he had returned later to the safety of my room, and died there in a corner near my door. His lifeless body was found there by my helper who placed him on a table, uncertain what to do with him.

When I saw him I thought he had landed on the table, only to discover that he was dead. What a sad thing it is to see a beautiful creature like a butterfly lie dead. I have always loved butterflies since I was a child and I felt deeply saddened that I had not recognised that it was dying when it first visited me. I wish I had known and had treated it more kindly.

Butterflies speak to me of metamorphosis or transformation. They are the ultimate in undergoing near catastrophic change that results in complete metamorphosis into a new form, shape, colour; in fact, a whole new life. There's a time span in which this happens, then the butterfly lives briefly and dies. Its transformation from caterpillar to butterfly is marked by a beginning and an ending.

I look at my own life and see near catastrophic events that I have had to embrace as inevitable change, and reluctant opportunities for transformation. I had long felt like the caterpillar blissfully going along nibbling leaves in my own little world. I have suddenly found myself struggling the most in the chrysalis stage, totally crushed and unrecognisable even to myself. I have waited, prayed, cried and grieved through all the change in my life until I came to realise that my chrysalis was not meant to trap me forever.

I feel like this particular phase of metamorphosis in my life is over, and I am emerging from my chrysalis. It's time to spread my wings and fly. To be beautiful and to believe it, because I am. To bring joy to the lives of others simply by being me, because there is so much goodness and lightness in my soul. I want to be unabashed and totally accepting of the fact that I am beautiful in every possible way. It's a truth that nobody can take away from me. I've transformed into a totally new me. It's time to push through the cracked chrysalis and emerge, knowing that a new life has begun. And it's a better brand new version of me. The old me died, and made way for the new me. It's exciting!

I am grateful that I can feel this in my soul finally. It's like a resurrection of sorts when one has felt dead for a very long time. I look forward to feeling alive and vibrant, to being a blessing to others and to finding meaning and fulfilment in life. It's all there, within my reach, and the pieces of my life's puzzle are slowly falling into place. I am so grateful that this cycle of transformation has its end. It's time!

Thanks for reading,

Pav

Savouring Time Together

Living in gratitude on Day 20 of a 30 day liquid diet. Today I am grateful for the time I have left with second son, Sach, who hopes to leave for uni in August. The months are flying past. Before I know it, he will be gone. And I'll be messaging and waiting for holidays and wondering how he is doing. Practising now with number one son who has left. :)

Today I took Sach and my 4th son, Cesar, for Japanese lunch, and to watch "The Post". Highly recommend the movie. Great stuff about the Vietnam War, Pentagon Papers, Official Secrets, Freedom of the Press, and the true story of Katherine Graham, Publisher of The Washington Post. Featuring Tom Hanks and Meryl Streep and an excellent ensemble cast. Streep got her 21st Oscar nomination for this role. Watch it!

Watching the boys eat was such a treat. Sach loves Japanese food. Sushi, sashimi and exquisite bites to tickle the palate. The dishes were so colourful, and tastefully done and we talked about textures and flavours and how it's an art, really. I sipped my Resource on the sly, hoping I wouldn't get thrown out for BYO to a fancy Japanese restaurant. Ooops :)Turns out we had stuff to celebrate... Cesar got above 90% for all his Engineering course exams recently. That boy works so hard to keep his scholarship. He's an inspiration! Meanwhile, overnight, he built the Lego Millenium Falcon that has been languishing in the house for 2 Christmases waiting for somebody to put the pieces together. He did it! Wonderful!

Some shopping for sneakers, snacks and drinks and we came home and later the boys ate the goulash I made yesterday. It kinda soaked up the gravy overnight and flavours got a bit too intense but it was a success. Another day of feeding kids, and getting feedback on how to feed them better. Sweet. :) Some day it'll just be me. And I'm the easiest to feed, really! I hardly eat these days! ;)

Every day is so special. Hidden away in the noisy madness or eerie silence, or absence even, is a jewel of a moment that reveals itself if we are looking for it. The moment that says whatever else we have endured, whatever the highs and lows have been, whatever has been said and done, there will always be unconditional love here for you. Open hearts that communicate that love both ways. So beautiful. So many shared moments of knowing that our bond is deep.

I know I am going to miss Sach, but I rejoice that he will soon be finding his way in the world, and that I am blessed to have another two kids waiting in the wings to launch out on their journeys in due course. Preparing now to let go. It is as it should be. So grateful for every moment I have left now with Sach. Thank you, Sach, for being you!

Thanks for reading,

Pav

Laughter, my Favourite Medicine

Living with gratitude on Day 19 of a 30 day liquid diet. So very grateful today for laughter with friends!

Thanks dear Sheetal Vohra Gulati and Nandini Sukhtankar for dropping by and bringing your brand of laughter. It was so much fun. It's been ages since we last met, and yet we carried on as if no time had passed between us. A sign of true friendship where souls can be open hearted and comfortable with each other. Such a gift to have friends like these two gorgeous, laughing, charming ladies.

Laughter is the best medicine, and I think that's very true. You can feel the transformative power of a full bellied laugh, and even the action of smiling sends signals back to the brain that affect our general well being. Being happy is a choice we make every single day. It's a deliberate and conscious choice we make no matter what the circumstances.

I've learnt to honour and respect myself in the midst of unhappy thoughts or moments but not to stay there with them for long. I recognise them, I am kind to myself and experience them and then I let them go. I have to before they infect me with their melancholy and drag me down to sorrow and grief. One cannot live there for long and hope to be healthy and at peace. Grief and sorrow have their place, but in letting them go we allow better things to come in.

The better things nourish the soul and feed us, not just to keep us alive or sustain us but to help us thrive. I've discovered laughter is one of these better things. It's essential, like a vitamin or minerals that our bodies need. Without it, we shrivel up and lose ourselves.

Two lovely ladies I met on my course in 2016 took the time to bring cheer and laughter and blessed me with their thoughtful gifts and sweet souls. My own soul felt like it expanded as we talked and laughed and shared our experiences. What a precious blessing of love and joy today. I am so grateful.

Thanks for reading,

Pav

Steroid Reduction!

Living in gratitude on Day 18 of a 30 day liquid diet. Today I am grateful for being able to scale back on my steroids, and for understanding my own journey.

When I was in hospital they pumped me with 100mgs of steroids 3 times a day,  reduced doses and then sent me home with 20 mgs of prednisone every morning. I hate steroids and their side effects. Nasty stuff. But I have no choice if I want to get into remission quickly.

The last time I was on steroids was in 2013 and I had to stop abruptly when I broke my ankle. The steroids had weakened my bones over the years I'd been on and off them. Additionally, I struggled to sleep, had headaches, bone pain and got bloated up. I got emotional and found myself tearful and moody. My eyesight was affected too with occasional blurry vision.  When I went off steroids altogether in 2013 I lost 20kgs. That's a lot of weight gain from meds. The worst thing about them is they leach the calcium from your bones over time. I can actually feel bone pain as that happens.

Today I have dropped from 20mgs of pred to 15mgs for a week. Next Monday I will drop to 10mgs, the week after to 5mgs and then eventually zero. By then I should be eating. And I hope to be free of side effects too.

I've been ravenous because of the steroids and not able to eat so I've been drinking my liquids a lot. Think I've put on a kilo now that I am starting to bloat. And I am tearful. I burst into tears several times a day, usually because of a passing thought. It's like I'm outside of myself, looking in on my life and feeling a little lost. I feel rather disoriented today. Exhausted and lightheaded. I understand why and so I am being kind to myself.

I had a good first day on reduced meds, enjoyed my morning walk, shared some laughs with old friends, enjoyed my kids, planned a new goulash recipe for youngest son who loves his beef, planned a trip with my daughter, and watched my fav tv shows. A restful day allowing my body to adjust and being kind to myself at every turn.

If we aren't kind to ourselves we'll be in deep trouble, because nobody else can really understand what we each endure in our own bodies. Grateful today for my own gift of understanding and kindness to myself as I reduce and adjust meds slowly down. It's all okay, one day at a time. Slowly but surely I will get there.

Thanks for reading,

Pav

I Made It!

Living with gratitude on Day 17 of a 30 day liquid diet. Today I am so grateful that I made it through my Cognitive Behaviour Therapy unit for my MA in Counseling.

I sat through 20 hours of lectures, contributed to discussions with my group, wrote scripts, edited material, presented our group powerpoint slides and was a counselor in our role plays. All on a liquid diet with steroid induced heart palpitations and slightly trembling hands. I made it!

The lecturer was pleased, we were relieved, and now we have got one 4000 word assignment to finish for this unit. Then I begin my placement and actual counseling under supervision and have 2 more coursework units to complete. I'm excited!

So very grateful for the grace of God that saw me through these past 4 days, especially today's marathon full day, for the joy of the Lord that is my strength, and for the gift of the right people in my group. It all came together beautifully. Partly because I was ready for it, and partly because it was meant to be this way. Wonderful. I just love it when things conspire to work together well. Lovely!

Now to think about my written assignment! Well, maybe tomorrow lah.

Thanks for reading,

Pav

The Understanding Doctor

Living with gratitude on Day 16 of my 30 day liquid diet. Today I am grateful for my gastro doctor.

I saw him yesterday, and fell apart in his clinic. I told him I was starving, was hungry all the time, had lost 3 kgs and felt very upset with it all. I told him how it all seemed so unfair and senseless and how ridiculous it was that I couldn't eat after everything I'd been through. Another 2 weeks and I'd be a bag of bones, I insisted, and that's hardly optimal! He listened to my mini rant patiently, patted my hand and told me that he understood how I felt.

It might sound trite, but coming from my doctor, it doesn't at all. He's known me for 15 years and knows what works and doesn't work for me. He knows how I feel about many things and he truly knows my heart, and he does understand how I feel. And he has the loveliest bedside manners. He's always patting my hand and comforting me and knows just what to say and when to be funny, and he takes a bit of nonsense from me too. We give and take.

We decided to stick to the liquid diet for another 2 weeks and to take some other meds where necessary to counter problems caused by the liquids I was taking. We discussed adjustment to meds dosing to fine tune things and manage any lingering discomfort. I got a B12 jab to see me through a busy weekend and give me an energy boost.

We looked through my blood work, noticed a recalcitrantly low potassium level and decided that I had to get back on supplements. We collaboratively worked through a treatment plan. That's one thing I really like, his ability to work together with me rather than using a top down approach. I feel empowered when my voice and views are heard and considered, and I am able to comfortably veto something or suggest alternatives. This gives me a semblance of control over the illness, which has implications for individual autonomy and a sense of self worth.

He helps me feel like a human being, at moments when my humanity is under threat because this vessel that houses the essential me, my body, is falling apart. When I cried he was alright with my tears, knowing that I have been so strong for so long and that I do break down from time to time. He told me he had recently re-read my entire medical history with him over the past 15 years and that in his view, I deserved a medal. That made me laugh slightly because I've always wanted one from LKY for 3 sons through NS eventually, but that never happened. :)

I apologised to my doctor for breaking down and having a little rant and he said that that was why he was there. To help relieve me of some stress, and to get me back to living a fully functional life again. I felt so grateful, and remembered that he too, was another fellow human being. 

I noticed that he had a bit of a cough, so we chatted about his health a bit, and I patted his hand and hoped he'd get better soon. We joked and parted company on a conspiratorial note... I told him that I would definitely  make it all the way through the 30 days on liquids and he said, "Malaysians always can!" I jauntily said, "Malaysia Boleh!" My dear Malaysian doctor may have forgotten that I am a Singaporean now, though I think it makes no difference to him. He recognises another Malaysian born and made heart and spirit. I am so grateful for my doctor!

Thanks for reading,

Pav

Back at School

Living in gratitude on day 15 of a 30 day liquid diet. I am grateful that despite my health I am getting my studies back on track.

In late 2016 I signed up for an MA in Counseling from Monash Uni, taught off campus here at Kaplan in Singapore. I've always felt drawn to helping people, and I am a perpetual student who loves learning, so I figured it would be a good fit.

I managed a distinction in my first "Ethics in Counseling" unit and looked forward to the second unit, "Cognitive Behaviour Therapy". Unfortunately, while I made it to all my lectures, I fell ill with a Crohn's flare and ended up in hospital in March 2017. I had to take time out of my course. Monash uni kindly considered my multi faceted personal issues and gave me a year off to recover.

As time came to re-register, I wondered if I wanted to return to this course or do something else. I considered Art History, Creative Writing and even Social Work courses. I fantasized about Archaeology, Marine Biology and Museum Management. My interests are so varied that it's hard to box me in! I also had to struggle with how I felt about helping people when I myself felt so at sea in my life, tossed about by many events beyond my control.

It's okay to acknowledge that we are imperfect and have problems of our own and to recognise that despite all that goes on in our own lives we can still help others. Counselors need counseling too. I didn't have to wait for my life to be problem free before I could help others. I could be the "wounded healer" right where I was, and as someone with many wounds I was actually in a good place to empathise with others and journey alongside them.

So I decided that since I had been working through my own issues for many months, and because I truly value the incredible worth of being able to provide a safe space for another to unburden themselves, that I would continue with the MA in Counseling.

Shortly after re-registering in December 2017 I began to fall ill, resulting in my recent hospitalisation and 30 day liquid diet on steroids. I told myself that liquid diet or not I was going to my classes, and aceing my first in class, graded role play assignment. Last night was the first block of 4 days of intensive classes which will end with the assignment on Sunday. I survived with my Resource and IsoCal packets at hand.

Better still, this time around, at my second go at "Cognitive Behaviour Therapy", I ended up in a group with people who were easy to work with, and I fit right in. Last year I made the mistake of choosing to do my own 4000 word written essay rather than the group assignment  because the group dynamics was off and I didn't have the patience to work that through. I regretted that later when I was unwell and had a full workload of 2 essays that I could not manage.

This time, I told myself that no matter what the circumstances were, I was going to get half my work load done through the group assignment because it would be over by Sunday. Work smart but don't be a smarty pants, Pav!

I am so grateful that by 1030pm last night when we left class, we had the bare bones of our role play sketched out, had worked beyond our scope for the evening, had no personality clashes, had subdivided everything, and everyone was totally committed to getting the best grade possible for the group.

The vibes were positive, the mood was buoyant, we were smiling and happy, and hope abounded. So awesome! I walked in on an existing class that had bonded for a year, and I didn't know anybody, and I left feeling quite comfortable with 3 new acquaintances with whom I plan to ace CBT. Eyes on the goal, Pav.... Sunday!

I think I've changed in a year, and am far more accepting of all sorts of things and more flexible, and I think God has shown me His grace and mercy through everything. This year things are getting better, even as I am. I am so grateful that my studies are back on track and I look forward to finishing this and truly being open and available to helping others. It's exciting!

Thanks for reading,

Pav

The Certainty of Death

Living in gratitude on Day 13 of a 30 day liquid diet. Today I am grateful for the certainty of death. Yes, death.

People tend to be afraid to speak about death because it's taboo or superstitious or bad luck. It's morbid and dark and gloomy. All negatives with very few positives. I believe that the notion of death is a positive one and should be embraced as such.

When I completed my BA in English, I wanted to do an MA focusing on the imagery of death in poetry by Emily Dickinson. My American Literature lecturer was suitably pleased, but then later disappointed, when I left to pursue romance in Singapore instead.

Years later, I was accepted into an external PhD programme in the UK to examine the use of imagery to depict death in poetry by the terminally ill. My cancer specialist friend, however, told me that his patients never wrote poetry, they mostly swore in dialect and played religious chants on a loop. Not much chance of gleaning "death imagery" there. I decided to let death go, and to try and be a little less "melancholy". :)

The death of people close to us is so hard to bear because of the bond we have shared in life. We only ever truly feel that bond rip apart when those who love us die and suddenly we realise the depth of love that was there. My maternal Grandma's death was hard for me because I knew how much she loved me and I hung on selfishly, and sobbed wildly, when she passed on.

My father's death was traumatic for me because I never knew if he ever loved me, and I hung on selfishly hoping he knew that I loved him despite his failings and forgave him his absence in my life. His passing left an abyss in my heart that took many years to heal. I don't know if it really has healed.

Death in the abstract seems almost an escape or a release from the burdens of  life, disease, and a crazy world which sometimes seems insane. Death in reality is a pain filled trauma of surrendering part of one's self, reflected in another, into the unknown.

One's own death should be something to anticipate because it is a certainty. Nothing else is so certain once we are born. How does one anticipate one's death when we cannot know the date, time or place when it will occur? It is the ultimate surprise of all surprises.

The only way forward is to live a well examined life in which one strives to live uprightly. The fear of God is the beginning of wisdom. Everything starts there. Why fear man when he can tear down the body but cannot destroy the soul? It is God who is our salvation. By ordering our lives rightly we can live without fear of meeting our Maker. We can say we are ready to go at any time.

I am grateful for the prospect of death because it helps me live my life well. Yes, I need help living an upright life. It's the greatest challenge of all to be able to end the race and say we ran it well.

I am not afraid to die. In fact, I welcome death because I view it as a doorway to another phase. I believe in eternity and the afterlife. I hear them beckon as my years pass by, and I feel my soul grow old as she seeks peace, quiet, solace, contemplation and prayer as a means of growing ready to live that eternity. The growth of the soul is life's work in preparation for death and eternity. I remain grateful that I will cross that threshold some day, and I embrace the certainty of death without fear. Meanwhile, I intend to live fully.

Thanks for reading,

Pav

Precious Friends

Living with gratitude on day 12 of a 30 day liquid diet. Today I am filled with gratitude for friends of old. Once upon a time, we three ladies were neighbours in number 3, 4 and 5, Hay Market Road in Seletar Camp. Our homes have long been demolished to make way for an expanding aerospace industry. We will never forget our time in that paradise. There's never been a place quite like Seletar Camp, or a community like ours.

I spent some of my best years as a parent there, from 2004 to 2009,  homeschooling my kids and living in a street with 14 kids in 5 houses. We three had kids the same age, and bonded over many dinners, parties, movie screenings, play sessions, pool dippings, and kids' growing pains. We survived our own idiosyncracies and managed to live together closely, ultimately cherishing relationship over everything else despite bumps along the way.

We popped in and out of each other's homes with the greatest of ease since we had connecting gates in our side fences. We exchanged baked goodies and stepped in to rescue stranded kids. We laughed together more than we cried because those really were fun days when the kids were young and our idyllic lives stretched before us. We, too, were young.

We disbanded and left the camp because we had no choice,  but we have kept in touch and meet up whenever we can. Every encounter is so precious. We pick up where we left off, talk about the kids and our own projects, and where we are headed in life.

I am so happy that my friends are doing well. I couldn't wish for anything better than to know that they are happy on their own journeys, and their kids are growing beautifully.

Once there were 3 lady neighbours, and though they grew apart "geographically", they stayed close at heart. Love knows no bounds, really, especially the love of those who knew us once when life seemed a dream and who continue to love us when we have awakened from our slumber. In our 50's and so much more grown as persons than we ever were, we are at peace with ourselves, and the world. Thank you for your spontaneously combusted visit, it was awesome! So blessed, and so grateful.

Thanks for reading,

Pav

Living a Meaningful Narrative

Living with gratitude on day 11 of a 30 day liquid diet. On my morning walk today I thought about the need for meaning in life. I am grateful that it is possible to find meaning in all that we experience.

Someone told me that I was brave because I had a certain perspective on illness, and my response was that finding meaning in illness and suffering helps one become brave. I don't think any one of us is born with the necessary courage to endure difficulty. I believe one can become brave and courageous in the face of adversity by seeking meaning and by remaking one's narrative.

A narrative is a story, and like any good story it has heroes, and villains, a main plot with themes and sub themes, plenty of drama, elements of tragedy, moments of comedy and basically has a beginning, a long middle part and an ending. That's just a conveniently simplistic view.  :)

How we see ourselves is primary to how our narratives develop and unfold. If we think we are a victim then that's our main role and theme. If we aspire to be the heroine then our narratives are punctuated by many heroic deeds against nearly impossible odds, and, depending on our definition of a hero, we might succeed simply by attempting to heights of greatness. What we tell ourselves about ourselves is so important in feeding and constructing our narratives. We are what we think we are, to some extent.

We all have our stories, and whether we realise it or not,  we are contributing to our narrative everyday. We edit, embellish, reframe, destroy and rewrite our narratives many times over, either in subconscious subtle ways or by consciously shutting away past chapters and taking our conclusion in a new direction altogether. The human mind is so powerful at doing this, and we need to learn to harness this for our own good by focusing on all that is good and that builds us up, and letting go of the sad and unhelpful things that tear us down.

We do this to reconcile what we wanted life to be like, and the reality of what it actually is like. We all have hopes and dreams, and when these are dashed we cannot process our failings without totally falling to pieces because very often our sense of self esteem is too fragile. We are devastated too easily when things fall apart, and we can find no answers to the "Why?" questions. There seems to be a gap there, and we simply cannot allow a vacuum to exist but feel the need to fill it with meaning. Reconstructing our narratives becomes an important tool to help us rebuild ourselves through adversity.

When chronic illness throws a spanner in the works and rears its ugly head over and over again, a person can lose their sense of identity, and they struggle to find meaning in life. Theirs is a narrative interrupted. These interruptions are like fault lines, there through no fault of the individual but always quietly waiting to throw things into upheaval.

Reconstructing my life's narrative has had to become a very important task as I have struggled with important and large questions like "Who am I?", "How do I Live as the Insignificant Other?", "Does my life still have meaning?", "How shall I rise above my personal struggles?" And of course, everybody's ultimate question, "What is happiness?"

I believe that when we personally define "happiness" for ourselves then our narratives begin to practically write themselves. Happiness, for me, is dying to self and living a life of service to others. The heart of man is such that it is never satisfied no matter how much it is fed. It is inherently selfish, and seeks personal gain at all cost. This is basic human nature. One has to consciously choose to move away from that. When one selflessly chooses to seek the happiness of others then the heart and soul are enlarged, and life has a deeper and broader meaning. This depth extends to the narrative too. Life becomes deeply, and truly, meaningful.

I am grateful that in the reworking of my narrative, despite the rollercoaster ride of chronic illness, I have found the unlimited grace and loving mercy of God that allows me to keep going. It's acceptable to make mistakes because His unconditional love never stops forgiving us and giving us second chances. It's fine to edit the narrative as life unfolds, to go back and look at things and understand why life happened the way it did, and to look forward and to try to navigate the future with self awareness and an open heart.

It's good to live the present with a vulnerable and generous heart, willing to engage with others, to serve and to rise above one's limitations daily. One must try to everyday. This way, when one reaches the end of their narrative there are fewer regrets and a sense of some accomplishment. And God will say to us, "Well done, my beloved servant, enter into your rest". I think I'd like that to be the epilogue of my narrative. :)

Thanks for reading,

Pav

Limited Energy, Unlimited Beauty

Gratitude on day 10 of a 30 day liquid diet. I am grateful for energy, no matter how limited it may be. Somehow, yesterday, I managed to attend a 3 hour Poverty Simulation run by Aware at SMU in the morning, cook bak kut teh for the family in the afternoon, visit a disabled friend at home in the evening, and attend a friend's birthday party in town at night.

In one day I managed to do all these things with the limited energy I gleaned from 8 packets of special drinks in 18 wakeful hours. I packed my drinks with me and lugged them along everywhere. Have tetrapak will travel! I guzzled my way through the day like a cranky car engine soaking up every last drop of petrol to get going and keep moving. I made it through one of my busiest days in a long time.

Where did the energy come from? From a lack of inflammation that is being managed by steroids and a liquid diet. And yes, the absence of pain meant that all my energies were made available to me to enjoy myself, to be present in each moment, to participate fully and to really engage with others around me.

A pain filled day doesn't allow for any of this to happen, it's just too hard on the body to do anything beyond responding to screaming nerve endings and brain signals, usually accompanied by fever, body aches, headaches and total exhaustion. You curl up in a fetal position and can barely speak, and tears flow because a part of you wants to be left alone, but a part of you also wants company and yet you know you're not up to anything at all.

I think the energy also comes when one focuses on others and not one's own troubles. Helping the poor, visiting the disabled, cooking for others, bringing joy to friends... all of these activities are outwardly directed rather than inwardly focused. I believe this to be energising and life giving. In blessing others with my limited energies I was able to receive even more energy as the positive effects simply snowballed.

Yesterday was so beautiful. It was an amazing day of accomplishing much with so little. Largely with me being available and bringing joy to others while enlarging my own heart. The day was filled with laughter, love and lightness. I am grateful for the pain free energy that took me through the day and for every single moment of engagement with friends old and new. I felt so alive!

Thanks for reading,

Pav

Clarity from Chaos

Living day 9 of 30 days on a liquid diet with an attitude of gratitude and a proper perspective. Today I realised afresh how useful clarity is, and how often we have so little of it in our lives. Nothing sharpens the senses like danger, and nothing forces clarity to emerge better than cataclysmic chaos.

I lived so many years of my life simply in a daze, having little clarity as to what I really wanted and what mattered to me, and losing my health two decades ago complicated things for me. Raising a family while struggling through chronic illness was a waking nightmare.

Caught up in guilt and feelings of failure, constantly trying to be more than I was capable of, and resenting the fact that I could not keep up with my own demands on myself, I think I lost the vision of who I really was. Now, in the aftermath of further truly cataclysmically chaotic events in my life and hard won change and transformation on my part, I clearly see who I am.

I am the Beloved of God, perfectly imperfect in all my ways, and that is truly enough. It is enough to simply be me. I am good enough, and worthy of love, and deserving of all good things in life. I can stop struggling and simply rest in the light of God's love.

Clarity shone her light through the rising ash and dust of my crushed self and as I looked towards the light of God, I realised that all of my life, I have loved Him, and that now, set free to truly, deeply and totally love Him without fear or judgment by anyone, I am finally happy.

Those who seek to know me intimately, and to love me deeply must also know and love God deeply, and this clarity guides me daily in my interactions, helping me to guard my heart from which life springs.

Clarity came from chaos, and so I remain grateful despite the great cost to self. Nothing is certain in life except change and death, and they bring their chaos too. Who knows what further clarity awaits me? I am not afraid to remain grateful through it all.

Thanks for reading,

Pav

Stay Strong, Hope

Staying grateful and keeping things in perspective on Day 8 of a 30 day liquid diet. I am so grateful that I have an end date to look towards, that allows hope to remain in my heart. It's a little like NSmen having their ORD, the date by which their service is officially over and they return to civilian life. It's the thought of that date that keeps them going. The light at the end of the tunnel that says, "Keep walking towards me, I'm not moving, you are!" I am grateful that I can count down the days knowing that on 2nd February I'll be able to eat again. Imagine if I didn't have a date or exit point to work towards. How exhausting and depressing would an interminably long wait be, and how weary and hopeless would the soul feel. Hope is so crucial to one's survival. It's the hope of a new dawn, a fresh start, a new beginning, a resurrection of life in one's bones, that keeps humanity alive. Life is meaningless without hope. I am grateful that I have an end date to this period of hunger and that the knowledge of it keeps me hopeful. I am grateful that hope still beats in my heart and keeps me going no matter what challenges life throws at me. It's a rather privileged perspective, of course, and that is very humbling indeed. It doesn't challenge one's faith into believing and trusting for one's next meal in the most impossible of circumstances but it does keep one going. And sometimes, on grey days and in dark seasons, the survival of a tiny bud of hope is enough of a miracle even if mountain moving seeds of faith seem to falter. God sees the heart and knows how tenaciously that hope holds on and asks no more. He is pleased with the tiny bud, and waters it with His compassion, grace and mercy. In due course, it brings forth seeds of faith. Stay strong, hope.

Thanks for reading,

Pav

Alleviating Hunger

Staying grateful and keeping things in perspective on Day 7 of 30 days on a liquid diet. I am so grateful that even though my meds are making me ravenous and I feel real hunger that every time I reach for a packet of Resource or Iso-Cal my hunger is alleviated. Imagine not being able to alleviate hunger at all. To perpetually have a knotted yet gnawing hole in one's middle because one had nothing to fill it with. How terribly tragic that many live like that. Every single day. Starving, and on the verge of death. I have the means to alleviate my hunger, each time it claws its way back I am able to stave it off. Let gratitude guide my perspective on life. (Might not be the right time and place to tell those Abbott and Nestle people that their food supplements for the nutritionally compromised taste like crap. Nah, we'll leave that for "Lost my Perspective from a Lack of Gratitude Day!") :)

Thanks for reading,

Pav

I am Grateful

In the comfort of my own home I find my thoughts returning to my recent admission to hospital. I was initially parked in a two bedder ward while waiting for a single room to become available, and I remember feeling rather like an intruder.

There was already a lady patient there near the window, hidden by curtains, surrounded by women and possibly in her 70's. I was lost in my daze of abdominal pain and busy trying to subdue my groans and moans because I didn't want to disturb her. Her doctor appeared and then, in that relatively small space that we shared, I entered into her narrative, only because her doctor had the loudest of voices and liked hearing himself speak.

The lady had brain cancer, and had to decide between localising radiation and risking missing tumours or irradiating her whole brain and probably accelerating dementia and experiencing a poorer quality of life sooner. As I lay there, softly moaning while curled up in a fetal position, the thought crossed my mind that she was probably going to die.

I suddenly felt so flaky and fake in comparison... there because a chronic illness I've lived with for two decades has flared up again and yet not having a terminal illness to battle. I felt so healthy suddenly despite my pain. It was excruciating pain but I knew I would live through it as I have in the past, leave the hospital on my own two feet, go home to my family and some day soon eat again and do the stuff I enjoy doing... till the next flare pulls the rug out from under my feet again, or maybe not. But I knew I was going to live and I also knew that the lady next to me did not have that reassurance. Hers was a choice of killing off healthy cells in her brain... by a matter of degrees. Not much of a choice, really.

I was moved to my own room soon enough and I don't know what happened to the lady. I do know that I felt grateful to have a chronic illness as opposed to a terminal one, though one might prefer no illness at all! I think it's a good time to focus on gratitude as a proper attitude in life, especially when one sees how everything is relative.

My gratitude for chronic illness is relative to the fact that I am not dying from illness. Not yet anyway. In fact, we are all slowly decaying but most of us will take a long time to truly fall apart. I feel, however, that my time in life has shortened with chronic illness. And so my gratitude is all the more necessary and timely. So little time, and so much to be grateful for in life. Indeed. May we have the wisdom to truly number our days well. 

Thanks for reading,

Pav

Blessed are the Peacemakers

(Wrote this on 5th July 2017. Posting it on my blog today, almost 6 months later,  I realise that I am so much closer to peace than I have been for a long time. No more battles to fight, only peace and healing. I am grateful.)


My last day in Ireland and my thoughts go to the Lee family saga in Singapore. Finally caught up with recent events. Some voices call for a court fight, and my immediate reaction is to hope it never happens, and to write my thoughts down in a lengthy reflection. Mediate, don't litigate. I, too, have chosen mediation over litigation in the past and I'd choose it again for any dispute.

BLESSED ARE THE PEACEMAKERS

It seems to be that the easiest way to resolve disputes these days is to opt to go to court and have a neutral third party, usually a judge, decide things for you. Parties hire their respective lawyers, gird up their loins, and prepare for battle.

It's often a protracted process, usually a nasty and bloody business, very costly and financially draining, and despite the appearance of a winner and a loser, in reality both parties lose a lot. The only ones who truly gain anything outright are the lawyers who can charge you by the hour, and fleece you a little, or a lot, depending on the pot of gold in contention.

When family members engage in these battles at court, not quite unlike those courtly battles of yore when  brothers slew each other for a chance at their father's crown, there is often a lot at stake.

While large fortunes are usually at the core of these disputes, all manner of other things become relevant. The family name and honour usually ends up being dragged through the mud as its dirtied linen is aired for all the world to see. The individual's integrity comes into question as all sorts of accusations are made, often substantiated by information gleaned from personal communiques.

The trust built up between individuals, no matter how weak or bleak it may have been, is utterly annihilated as every minute detail of communication is aired and examined and cross examined and used in support of self or against one another. Nothing is deemed sacred as dirt is dug up, and the worst possible interpretation wrung out of every word or phrase, narrowly staying within the interpretative limits of the law.

Words are twisted, meanings are exaggerated, and character assassination is the norm. Back and forth words fly, until parties almost begin to believe the negative spin put on their words and lives. Retaliation is mandatory, in measured yet certain tones, so that nobody loses face or their place in the game. It's all about winning, and it sucks you in deeper.

How can the virtues of trust and respect and honour endure in the face of such a continuing onslaught and the inherent revelation that the supposed relationship between parties is no longer worth salvaging? These virtues simply cannot survive within the constraints of litigious actions and non-reconciliatory behaviour, and their death knell marks the end of all that was truly good between parties.

Only a passing shadow remains of whatever halcyonic and idyllic days there may have been once in a distant past when love may have inhabited the hearts of parents, siblings, spouses, children; all the sacred human relationships we find ourselves in that make us who we truly are. Now that sacred bond is broken, and intentionally destroyed in a battle for victory. The human heart breaks too, because it is made for love, and not for indifference or hate. How to survive such a ghastly disruption of one's humanity?

The human mind quickly steps in to paint the other as darkly as possible, partly because of deep hurt and anger, possibly a need for revenge, and certainly as a coping mechanism to survive whatever onslaught the psyche has endured throughout this battle.

Extreme positions are taken, walls are built and fiercely guarded, no guilt or remorse is expressed lest it is perceived as a weakness, and always each side sees itself as self righteously good and right while the other is always wicked and wrong. Black and white portrayals are pursued, no ground must be lost to the other and after weeks or months, possibly even years of this, the mind and heart come to believe all of that is true.

The reality, however is far from that, but the entire battle has acquired a farcical air by now, and is so far detached from reality. Parties believe whatever keeps them sane. They are poles apart and are likely to always remain so. The battle scars individuals for life, and no one ever really recovers from the experience. Time does not heal all wounds.

Once the courts are involved, the game is on to declare a winner and the position is taken that only one person can emerge victorious. Since this is not mediation or reconciliation that works towards a win-win situation, or a restoration of relationship, the battle is not a small skirmish or a series of little wars. It's a full onslaught between parties that throws everything in the book, and the kitchen sink, at each other. It's an outright mega war. The war of all wars that is meant to preempt any other wars, where possible.

It's agonisingly brutal. It drains you psychologically and emotionally. It affects your health, and your sleep and your whole life seems to revolve around it. In short, it consumes you, no matter how much you try to avoid being consumed by it. It eats you up because the tactics employed to win cause you to shift from being a person who cares about the other to someone who wants them dead, almost. Brothers have been known to kill for a crown, and even less.

It's shocking how the mind and heart shift in battle, and if we're self aware, we notice this shift. If we are people of integrity, we decry it, and refuse to give in to it and suffer terribly as long as the battle continues, because deep down inside, not every one of us wants to slay our brother to be king. We are not all made for battle.

Many of us are made for peace, knowing full well deep down in our hearts, where God touches the essence of who we are, that truly, blessed are the peacemakers for they shall be called the sons of God. Perhaps we all begin as peacemakers in life, and wander off that path somehow.

For the peacemaker who delights in being a child of God, the battle soils the spirit. It dulls the voice of God and hollows out the soul. It begins a hardening of the heart that leads to an escape from the presence of God because the heart and soul knows it is disobeying the call of God. They hide away from the piercing light, preferring the dark shadows.

Those who revel in the battle and actually enjoy it might say that they never saw themselves as peacemakers but as fighters from the start. Perhaps there is such a person as a born battler. Perhaps born battlers are peacemakers who have lost their way and some of their humanity along with it. The continuing distance from God reinforces the hardening of heart which in turn pushes God further away and so it goes on. It remains for the peacemakers to choose their own path in the face of a fight with these battlers.

To fight or not to fight is a difficult choice for many.  To go for the jugular and rip out another's warm beating heart for a cold blooded victory, or to chose not to do so. It's not something to enter into lightly. One can never be the same again having fought such a battle, unless one has no conscience to begin with.

The peacemakers wrestle with wanting to stay true to themselves, with choosing the higher path, and with the reality that they will suffer for what they believe is right despite perceived injustice and unfairness to themselves. Their consciences prick them continually, urging them to do what is right, what their soul knows is good, and what their heart hears God saying to them.

They will never get their day in court to tell their side of the story, to rebut the things said about them, to set the record straight and to repair the hurt to their ego and pride. There may be many questions left unanswered, insufficient disclosure of the truth and no real closure of any kind. Instead, peacemakers choose the relationship over ego and pride, and suffer whatever wrong has been done to them and refuse to enter the arena, or having entered, they leave early. The continual bludgeoning onslaught of others that is required of them in order to win simply does not reflect who they are. When they choose to walk away from a battle, it is not a sign of weakness but of incredible strength and integrity.

The peacemakers know that to lose their name, reputation, honour, integrity, health, peace of mind, soul, and wealth in a battle between themselves and those with whom they are relationally bound forever is pure folly. The desperate need to win at all costs corrupts the soul. The pursuit of peace, however, is wisdom in action.

No one wins in battles. And when it is known that everyone loses, it is the peace maker, who in his wisdom chooses to walk away from battle. He is the real winner. He may not be viewed as such in the courts of this world but certainly when he stands before God, the great Judge of all hearts, he will receive his just reward. His will be the call to enter into his rest for a job well done and a life righteously lived.

Blessed are the peacemakers for they shall be called the sons of God. If only both sides in any battle saw themselves as such, not only the sons of man but the sons of God Himself. The battle rages on in each of our hearts every day to see ourselves as children of God and to choose our path in keeping with the dignity and integrity of that honour. May God grant us wisdom to choose wisely.

Thanks for reading,

Pav