Impatience

I am admittedly rather impatient.  Immersed in my own 'timeline' of plans - when progress does not pan out in the pace expected, it frustrates me to no end.  I'm also not the most patient when it comes to waiting for certain outcomes.  One good example is this spouse visa application.  Yet in the same stride, I'm most patient when it comes to cooking and baking.  Like the 'Vegetarian Tagine' I made this evening for dinner I embrace the fact that progress cannot be hurried.  Instead of being stressed over how slowly things are panning out, I lose myself in those moments of creation and savour the fact that each stage takes shape in its own time.  I am for a change at one with the age old adage of 'good things come to those who wait ...'

Now why can't that translate more into dealing with everyday situations?! Waiting for the outcome of my visa would be less stressful.  Or even the process of finding a full time job.  On the more inane aspects like discovering I've got to wait a week/month/year for the next episode/sequel of a TV series/movie that have captured my imagination would be a good deal less angst ladened.  I'd skip the highly charged 'WHAT?! I have to wait a (week/month/year) just to find out what happens next?! NOOOoooo!' to that stage of zen 'Come what may ...'

This leads me to the next admission - that I am 'flappable' - usually over things that has captured my concentration.  Like an obsessive compulsive, I can't bear to let go until I get to the end of things.  Call it determination, stubbornness ... this can be both a strength and a weakness.

On that note, the last few days have been spent watching two seasons of 'Once upon a time'.  Yes, two seasons in one sitting.  I live, eat, breathe 'Once Upon A Time' - a modern take on my favourite fairy tales.  Talk about being smugly content!  Particularly to be spared the angst of having to wait a week before the next episode.  But now that I've reached the last episode of the second season I've discovered that I now have to wait for the next season to confirm whether my 'deductions' are spot on or not ... When that will be, no one knows just yet (NOOOOOOooooo!!!!)

It's a relief to note tomorrow is a working day.  I'd have to distract myself from my square-eyed indulgences and concentrate on more gainful activities.  CIF, BOL - here I come!

Stuck in the middle

There are moments like last weekend where I feel more acutely what one would call the 'early stages of adaptation' from country of origin to new country of residence.  The best one could describe the feeling is one that is 'stuck in the middle'.  You can't go back now that your life's nudgings have led you in a course away from home.  Harder still are the experiences that had been shaped and hone along the journey.  Those innate leanings would have changed you and that would make it harder to simply fall back into the same mold of how things were when you left it a few years ago.

On the other hand,  'going o'er' looms like a daunting and terribly uncertain prospect.  The overwhelming novelty of everything.  New culture, new ways of doing things, even new coping practical life skills to cope with seasonal changes.  I've learned about new ways of dressing to brave the cold, new ways of using public transport, even living in a house requires new set of skills, new areas, new ways of working and the colossal amount of paper work and transaction fees needed simply to be here in this country. I still don't know what my legal immigration status quo is other than being legally married to BFL ...

You can't therefore blame me for doing the human thing: To look back at the certainty of what I use to know.  My life in my country of origin, the people, the family ... at the very least, I knew with certainty what my legal status is. A citizen of that country.  These things one takes for granted until it's all up there in the clouds.

I like to think it's the call of 'certainty and familiarity' that makes me yearn for my old home.  But in reality, it's arguably as uncertain there as it is here.  Change is after all constant.  No place, nor people stays the same.  Either you live your life in that chosen geographical location simple accepting and going with the flow of things or you return a few years later and play the constant 'catch up game'.   That fact will only come to light upon each return visit.

So yes, being 'stuck in the middle' arguably, is probably a natural process of adapting.  I can't say for certain mainly because this is the first time I've ever attempted moving country of residences.

Usually, that feeling of being 'stuck' is accompanied by waves of overwhelming homesickness.  This tends to taint any  novel experiences living here.  An example would be the cold season.  We don't have winters where I originally come from.  And while many would love to experience this, I'm finding the freezing grey temperatures rather wearisome.  It saps all enthusiasm and energy out of you and while many would rather trade the cold for the hot humidity, I'd happily do the reverse.  It's a case of the 'grass being greener on the other side' and when that happens I become very insular looking.  I find myself longing to simply step out of the house without consulting first the weather to see how cold it is and to determine how many layers I should put on ... Funny too, how weariness that leads to insularity could make such a mountain out of  'mole hill'.

I tell myself it's but a phase.  I've accomplished so much now even if this weariness tend to have a discounting effect on everything one has achieved.  The good thing also is that BFL is wonderful in listening to me voice my feelings.  While I hate to be a bore,  to repeat like a broken record over and over again how I sometimes struggle to find the strength to move on and to question whether this is all worthwhile, BFL reassures me that I'm doing the 'right thing' to tell him.

I suppose simply by acknowledging how one feels is a way to 'move forward'.  BFL acknowledges that it is only right to be feeling waves of homesickness.  It is okay to have teary, low moments.  His assurances that it is only normal to have those feelings helps more than I think it does.  And almost always I'm reminded that it is important, in any journey forward to take stock of what is given.  To distract oneself from one's insular inclinations and learn instead to count one's blessings one by one.

Work day

It was work day today.  I've had the foot through the door since I last wrote (rather dismally I have to admit) about the lack progress on the employment front.

Amazing how things change ... one can never tell what lies round the bend.  Work is mainly administrative but I do thoroughly enjoy what I do.  To concentrate and lose track of time and know your time had been put to good use.  It's with a rather 'Star Trek-ish' company too.  I say Star Trek because it's the stuff of 'trek-like' equipment.  Lasers, scanners, suits etc.  That's just about the only reflective thought I had this afternoon while on a break.

My colleagues are a polite and engaging bunch.  I hear the banter and I learn ... there's just so much to be learnt about their products.  And the administrative world of international trade and logistics that's involved in getting the goods from their warehouses to the end users.

Because of the nature of the business, the less said the better.  So I'd steer clear about what exactly what I do other than filing and filling in the blanks.

On the season's front, while it's bright and sunny giving everyone hopes of spring to come it's still down right cold.  In fact, there's even talks about it snowing this weekend.  Brrr!  I suppose on the bright side, the days are definitely getting longer. :)

Second chances

I've been musing the last couple days about 'second chances'.  How we all deserve to have a shot at being happy even when things are at the moment not exactly the most peachy.  I should know what I'm talking about especially when I've been divorced, stalked, betrayed, defamed ...

One probably wonders as well, 'Why?' What have I done to deserve all the above?  As complicated as life's explanations tended to be, it all boiled down to two things.  'Wrong choices' and not walking away sooner when 'toxic' alarms rang loud.  Most ordinary people have more or less a workable 'self protective defense' - to stay away from toxic people.  Mine, however, had abit of a 'bug' in the system.  Instead of keeping a safe distance away, I am drawn to stay to 'help'.  Very foolish thing to do particularly when we're only human - no matter how strong one perceives oneself to be, there will always be a kink some where.  Needless to say, in a toxic environment, with toxic souls bent on wrecking havoc, no matter how good your intentions are, you will eventually get 'burned' if you don't flee.  Simply said, humans that don't run don't survive bomb blasts.  

There was a time in a painful stage of being trapped and 'consumed' by toxic negativity I did wonder whether I would ever have a chance to be happy again. That's the thing about toxic entrapment.  It begins its insidious deed of robbing anyone even of the simplest hope. Simply because, the more it takes, the more 'empowered' toxicity becomes.  Leaving behind unhappiness and hurt in its wake,  it is, arguably the worst of all kinds of toxicity. 

I suppose this explains why some people don't want to see others succeed.  Mainly because of their own toxic insecurities.

But you see, my story is also a story of many.  Others who've made mistakes like I have, found themselves in depth of despair, found by hanging on to even the slightest of hopes - second chances will eventually emerge out of that long dark lonely hole  one is trapped in.  Or even thirds. Or fourths.  Often however, it means having to make that difficult decision to distance self from 'toxic entrapments' that robs one of even the smallest of hopes.

While that sounds simple enough - to walk away, however,  when there's a 'bug' in your self protective system this can prove to be a challenge.  It is a habit one must break. Unlearning something as deep rooted in one's psyche is not exactly the most straight forward of businesses.   It is a complicated and uncomfortable process (to say the least) which forces anyone to take a long hard truthful look at oneself.  It is a human version of an MOT (which is use to test for road worthiness of vehicle) and having to tweak and do repairs on 'broken' areas.

While learning and unlearning bad habits is hard enough.  The second stage to learn new and more gainful 'coping' strategies can also prove challenging.  The tendency always is to fall back to what one knows.  Habits formed from years of experience.

It all sounds like a discouraging case of 'one step forward, another two backwards...'. So why bother?

Why bother...?  Because it is our best chance at 'hope'.  Life is after all a matter of probabilities and chances.  Sometimes dealing one a harder deal.  Hence, there's no other way of attaining 'hope' except by doggedly striving for it.  Better to have done 'something' about our chances of happiness than not to - and spend a lifetime regretting.

It would have been great to report in my rather blissful state at the moment (life with BLF) that I have it all figured out. But I don't.  That's the thing about life. It keeps you engaged by not knowing what's round its tortuous bend.  In spite of being second time lucky (or third rather), no matter what happens I know for certain I will always continue 'trying'.

As for those who are still struggling - wondering if there will come a day where you will see light at the end of this dark tunnel you are trudging.  The very fact that you 'wonder of light' signifies flickering of hope.   Even if all your nerve and sinew are gone, simply by holding on to the smallest of hopes will someday reward you.   Because you never know ....like many of us who have finally found our second chance, your 'second chance' may simply be around that corner.  So hang in there!

Valentine's day and beyond ...

This year marks our first valentine's day as husband and wife.  However, unlike initial plans to do the routine romantic dinner out (if there's ever a chance of when everyone's doing more or less the same), we found ourselves after toasting glasses of kir royale too sloshed to go out.   Rather, I was too sloshed.  That's the effects of drinking on an empty stomach.  So, what we ended up instead was finish our our bottle of bubbly Cava, eat 'keropok' and be merry.

We slept at 930 pm.

So much for a romantic evening out  ... having said that, it was fun regardless.  I've learnt when plans don't pan out as you initially planned, go with the flow.  The alternative is just as good (given the half drunk circumstances we were both in).  Besides,  we both needed those Zzzz.  Me especially after having witnessed a suicide, being unable to sleep after that and having to work the following day.  And BFL is still recovering from his annoying bark of a cough.

Friday was exciting because my brother was finally 'released' from his tech conference in the sticks was finally free to stay with BFL and I.  However,  we had a bit of a sticky start to begin with.  We found ourselves waiting at different exits. We couldn't' contact each other because his 'roaming' wasn't working.  By the time BFL had appeared at CJ - having returned from work (45 minutes into waiting) my brother was still no where to be seen.

All's well, end's well. He finally got roaming signal.  Called us.  We raced home (in taxi).  He had on walking route to our place had navigated up the rise while it was still light and had a chance to see our neck of the woods.  Having finally 'got him' and settled his bags we still had some time left to do some last minute shopping before dinner with old family friends.

It was good having him stay with us even if it was only for a night.  We had a chance to yak catch up after before he caught the next flight out (down under) in the morning.  We both had similiar experiences in a sense that in a short span of time we have had some major changes in our lives.  One of which is having to move country of residence.  Yet in and amongst the upheaval and uncertainty laid a sense of peace ... that we both knew this was where or what we were meant to be doing.

My brother has seen me in my worst.  Unhappy. Tearful. Angry.  Struggling to make sense of what was.  Finally to see me here. Happy. Contented.  With BFL. This made him recognize that I too had found my peace at last.

We both summed it all up as having 'come back to God'.  It's not like we've become unbearably religious.  It's having being taught the hard lesson of life's priorities.  What is truly important and striving to achieve that balance.  We have both experienced that when one makes materialistic ambition a master, some how or another when life goes awry, you lose your way.  

Having said that, that doesn't mean that life has stopped being challenging.  It still is. And will always be as it is it's nature.  But I guess the difference being having being anchored into what truly matter.  That somehow helped us steer our way amidst life's upheavals and uncertainty.

Helpless bystanders ...

I watched someone die today.  It was probably suicide because no one falls over a bridge that sturdy unless he or she climbs the barriers.  Having said that, it was upsetting to say the least.   Not exactly the brightest start on my first day at work. 

I would probably had carried on being oblivious had I not notice three people on the other side of the bridge peering into the river below.  There was an air of bewilderment and alarm about them.   Sensing some kind of crisis was brewing I slowed my pace and peered onto my side of the bridge.  By then, one of the man who was on the other side had stopped traffic and raced over to my side of the bridge.  Seconds later the police arrived.  I soon discovered what the commotion was all about...

What soon emerged from under the bridge was rather stricken looking silver haired man threading water.  He was clearly gasping - his body reeling from the freezing waters.  I, along with an increasing crowd of bystanders helplessly watched as he bobbed gently down stream.

'Gently down the stream' is probably not the best word to describe the upsetting scene that was unfolding.  Set against freezing swirls and eddies of the river's tide and the cloak of bewildered silence on the bridge above, it all seemed strangely surreal.  The only thing that revealed the actual reality of that unfolding tragedy was  the howling child from the original three who had watched him fall. Visibly upset, he probably could not understand why everyone including the police simply stood by to watch.

I wondered,  did the child know the stricken man in the river?  Was he a son?  A grandson?  As I watched his father hugged him refusing to let him cross over to our side of the bridge to watch him slowly sink under the river's tides, I had concluded that he was like us a helpless but young bystander.

And that's how I felt.  That sinking feeling of helplessness.  The despair of watching someone's slowly dying before your very eyes as you stood by.  The less I saw of him bobbing, the more certain I knew he would eventually succumb to the cold.  Hypothermia kills.  Faster than you think.  No one with a boat was close enough to fish him out.

Unable to watch any further, I turned away to continue my walk towards work.  It was then I caught sight of faces of other bystanders.  Most ... quietly in tears.  I overheard a man tell someone when asked what had happened: 'He jumped off the bridge ...'

Why...? What made him despair so he gave up on life?  Why make a public spectacle of it ... he knew 830am would be rush hour for many.  Was he truly so alone that he needed the public to witness his gradual demise?  He had no doubt succeeded in creating an even bigger traffic jam that morning.

The eeriest thing was, that stricken man who was fished more dead than alive out of the river 20 minutes later reminded me of one of my more mature course mates who I would sit next to in class.   It's probably not him since N seemed so full of life ... but just the thought that it could be someone I know made me sadder.

On the side of irony, he succeeded in achieving what he set out to do.  He did not survive.  Yet the way he chose to end his life - taking drastic actions to drown out his God given life, made the world weep. I hope he finds his peace ...

Tempestuous and tedious struggles

The journey onwards and upwards is often times tempestuous and tedious.  Some days are harder than others.  And today is one of those ...

I found myself discouraged and almost despairing.  Despairing because I couldn't understand why I felt that way when I ought to feel more encouraged having a new part time job to start this week.  The cold perhaps?  I console myself (as I was out recceing my new work place) better be walking in the cold than the heat.

I suppose it all boils down to this:- At 37 I ought to know what I want to do as a career in life.  Nearly two weeks past graduation and I still haven't much of a clue. All I know is that I want a job that affords me the stability and resources to think of starting and maintaining a family.  I suppose better that clarity than none ... Yet it still doesn't solve the quandary what do I want in a career?

At my age, I don't have much of the opportunity of time to flit and experiment at jobs.  Nor do I want to flit and change jobs ever so often.  I would very much like to stay at a job that I love doing and develop myself, the business, my skills from there.  And therein lies the tricky bit.  Not many are first time lucky finding a job they absolutely love and are good at it.  Most have to flit and experiment before finding exactly what they want.  And that makes me despair somewhat ... how many times would I have to experiment?  How long would it take?

Can't things simply fall into place?  Like NOW?!  *sighs*

So I go out receeing more sights, places. Not really giving it much hope of anything coming out of it.  In all honesty, I'm probably wallowing in bouts of self pity.  The grey, cold weather tends to exacerbate such thoughts (yes,  go blame it on weather ;P).  If I bothered to rein in my thoughts and take stock of the actual situation (which I am, as I write), the part time job actually cropped out of an explored option where I actually thought, 'well ... i guess, that's one closed door there ... no point pursuing that any longer'.  Then the fact that it's a lot closer and easier to home that I imagined it would be is also of positive note.  Opportunity. Conveniences.  And here I go disregarding its virtues by the thought of:-  'I just hope the people I work with are pleasant and helpful that I could later form friendships with'.

So what am I actually discouraged and despairing about?  Is it more anxiety of change?  Reservation of not knowing?  Truth be told, there's not much in there to be down about.  Yet, this dark tempestuous mood is so real and rather hard to shake off.  It's probably also a case of having too much time on one's hands.  I have inane thoughts (as I walk along) like:  'Will I ever have the option of driving in the cold instead of walking sometime soon? I miss being able to drive anywhere and everywhere ... I miss the familiarity of things.  I miss just knowing - instead of having to rely on google maps just to find how to get to any place!' Admittedly,  all those creeping thoughts just makes me take a longing look at the life I had left behind.

Perhaps, other than bouts of self pity I'm actually missing home.  Missing how I was once was.  Fairly confident.  I knew how to get around and get things done, whom to speak to, what to say.  In this new country of origin, I don't even know how to get from point A to B without a map!  I've never been so unsure of myself and full of questions - at the ripe old age of 37!

WTF?!! 

Sorry.  Had to swear.  Needed to vent my frustrations.

I suppose on the bright side, thank God for smart phones.  Without information at my fingertips I'd probably be in even dire straits.  I suppose, like the saying goes 'every cloud as a silver lining' ... and I take some actual comfort in that. 

And what does BFL think of it all?  He's alot more optimistic than I am.  He believes in me more than I believe in myself.  He believes with my smarts and character, I would be a success.  If only I had half as much faith as he does.  So, I don't think its fair to vent my discouraged, despairing frustrations on him.  It's tiring enough with one struggling with such weary and tedious emotions.  No point wearing out another.   Hopefully, I learn to be more like him - positive and optimistic than what I am at the moment. 

I suppose on the bright side, this is, in reality a 'phase' in one's life journey.  And all 'phases' will soon pass.  Also,  I am thankful for the time I have on my hands giving me time for  gainful distractions.  SO off to cook dinner I shall.  It's still fairly early but the kurma needs some time to stew and its pancake day! (I've not made pancakes in a while ...) I wonder if BFL would like a pancake dessert for dinner....?