1 year of Cindy Leow : The Other Side of the Bed

Tuesday, 8 September 2015



If it weren't for checking my tabletop calendar for upcoming occasions, I wouldn't have the slightest recollection that this blog is now one-year old. And absolutely have no idea how did my affirmed self then thought  that starting a blog would be the way to improve my writing. Because I still have those odd pauses where I couldn't find the right words to make people understand that whatever it is in my mind is sane. At least it is from my personal preference. 

It has been quite a year where I was totally drifted off, pretty far I'm sure from where I started. From a person who was curious of outcomes, to a person who accepts and embrace anything that comes right in front of me. One thing I notice significantly when I look back at my old self is how much time I took to absorb my surrounding and finding peace within myself. I'm not entirely good at that. And and and, I can still go to the extreme of modernism living. Where I sleep only 2 hours a day, where deadlines are just the allegro to keep my pace up, where I could shut my interaction totally with the surrounding. On a good day, I find ambiguous serenity working alone in a crowded coffee place, drinking latte with a dead espresso shot and still find it alright because I don't have the heart to tell the barista. But over the last year, I've learned to stop and outgrew the senses that I've long forgotten, gave away, or thought never existed. The sense of presence feels so real to a point where I wonder if all of this is reality-bending or what I've actually come to believe in.

When I was very little, I didn't understand whenever my dad preaches me to empty myself. I took years trying to look into what he meant and when I finally do, I took even more years trying to achieve that. Enlightenment, I'm not even close. If you asked me last year, I'd probably still be on that journey. But a year time has so many possibilities to drive me on a different turn.

I believe in enlightenment, even though I won't be able to achieve that this time, or maybe ever. Like I simply don't think there's anything more after death.

But, I made a choice that could go down a different road, but this choice is what matters now. And just noble to write it on this blog's birthday. I figured if I don't write now, when? 

I choose to acknowledge information and emotions around me. I feel afraid. I imagine questionable faces in the dark. I feel a little victory when I can do a little dance sitting down. I have doubts whether mirrors reflects reality or what we prefer to see. I'm conscious on how sleep-deprived my weekdays are. I recently fell in love with a man that is perfectly impossible ball of contradictions. I burnt my fingers in the oven and I couldn't explain the sensation for days. The pillar is I don't choose to submit to all these senses, but in this humanly degree, those things did happen and I choose not to push it away.

I anticipate to step out there and spiral into wherever life brings me. To be in touch with my jaded self. To nest and find a home in every piece of earth I stand, whether within the island or across the ocean. From what I've learned on the road, is that I fall in love with people and their lives over and over again. It feels like I'm leaving chunks of my heart all over the place. It hurts sometimes, but it's worth it. Of course I understand the virtue of keeping your heart intact. It's safe but in the end for me, a heart is made for giving away.

"Persnickety!"

That what my friends described me from my work execution, which might not entirely be the cultivation from the nature of my job in advertising and visual designs. We're talking about the present, but I could end up in a different place later down the road. To fulfill my dreams, is to acknowledge (once again I can't make this any clearer) whatever life throws at me. And as significant as possible I will take my time with it. Because only us and ourselves know what we can achieve.

I blatantly admit that I used to have fears where I couldn't look after my family when I'm gone. And that they wouldn't believe in what I do, just because being true to myself trails me down a path different from how common people are being brought up. As a matter of fact, I pictured them screaming in agonizing pain, persuading themselves that their baby girl is going through some phase. But it turns out entirely unexpected when they come to see that it wasn't any phase that made me who I am now. I knew then when I was 6 years old, I don't have ordinary parents. And I'm no ordinary child. Growing up with different values, I was placed with the minorities though until today I've never learned to see the borders between two living human beings. 

But I consider myself the luckiest! My parents and a couple of best friends I that kept close by me throughout the years took it well and actually took their time to process why I'm doing this. So that I live. I actually live. 


4 comments :

  1. Very nice :)

    I personally feel that enlightenment is not a destination. We don't have to seek enlightenment, we just have to live our lives to the fullest (when is fullest truly fullest anyway) as human beings. I think you're awesome, embracing everything - the emotions, the sensations, the pain, the little daily miracles.

    "To see a World, in a grain of sand."

    I believe, in this way, enlightenment finds you.

    Cheers

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    Replies
    1. Hi Aaron,

      Yes over the years of seeing from a set of values structured by the society made me think a lot, and eventually realize how foreign we are to inner self. If one chases after enlightenment, they won't even understand the fundamentals of it.

      Cheers!

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  2. It's painful to read how you struggle so hard to use big words that you think make you sound intelligent, but actually don't make much sense. "Modernism living"? Grammatically, that's not even right, as are a big chunk of what you just wrote.

    The beauty of writing is being able to convey a message in the least amount of words (that are nonetheless beautiful). The big words are, in this instance, like big rocks littering the path your readers are taking a stroll down, making it a very difficult and far from pleasant journey in the process.

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    Replies
    1. Hi Anonymous,

      Thank you for your time to read this post. I understand that I'm not the most fluent person in writing or speaking, but I don't let that stop me from speaking what's on my mind. Most importantly, I shared this and whichever words that I used are the ones that made the most impression to me. Those words are attached to certain phenomenons that happened in my life (although I wish I could do better in writing really). And no, I wasn't trying to sound intelligent. I didn't know people actually think that way when they write.

      But expressions like art, music, words, body languages are different forms that help us to convey ourselves to the surrounding. We come across the great ones doing what they do best. Sorry, I side track a little! Haha. Okay. I write even in broken grammar because I'm terrible when it comes to expressing myself in person. Hence, I don't choose be a writer or English tutor. I'm not even sure if I have an audience for this, but I want to let whoever else out there know that they are not alone if they feel the way like I do. I'm glad you drop by here. So, thank you!

      Cheers!

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