Multiplicity.

It suffices to say that I'm a complex person. I don't think I know myself as much as I'd like to think I do.

In a sense, all writers are complex because in one moment he or she can inhabit multiple perspectives. Sometimes I find myself lost in that multiplicity. If I give equal weight to the other's perspective, it becomes difficult to justify my own. That makes me behave tentatively in social situations. It might not just be a writer's complex - perhaps it is an introvert's reflex. It's a kind of imaginative buffer where I distance myself from my own thoughts and compunctions, and automatically see the situation from where another stands. It's like inviting an outsider to church one Sunday. Suddenly the music seems too loud, the lyrics too incomprehensible, the gestures too exaggerated, the sermon too insular, the pews too uncomfortable, the crowd too alien. When just a week ago it was familiar running grounds since childhood.

How does one maintain the obstinacy of one's correctness in a situation of conflicting perspectives and contexts? How does one offer advice - without first knowing the weight of considerations hanging on the person - her background, her personality, the social intricacies surrounding that thorny issue? Why are people so quick to give advice?

I am loathe to advise. Or to interfere - unless I know the person and the context well, and they specifically invite me to weigh in. Too often, I've sat on the receiving end of well-meaning but almost always grating advice - and had to endure it out of politeness. But in my head, oh in my head, I am anything but polite.

Another thing I've realised recently about myself is that I'm dogmatic about accuracy. It annoys me to no end when people speculate about issues they know very little about, and go on about it with baseless confidence and assertion. Often times, when I become curt and anti-social in tone, it's because I'm trying to get someone to clarify something they said or to think it through - when it's probably not a big deal to other people. "Tenor is a higher vocal range than soprano! It's tenor, followed by soprano, alto and bass." "That's not what I learnt. Are you sure?" "Yeah!" *Googling* I become the annoying person who reads out the correct definition of vocal ranges from wikipedia. *sullen silence*
Why can't people just say they don't know when they don't know? Why is accuracy such an issue with me?

The other pet peeve (while we're on the subject of my flaws and complexes) is time-wasting. Efficiency is probably the highest on my list of performative priorities. Worrying is a form of inefficiency. Illogical fears are a waste of emotion. Excessive philosophising and talk is to me empty, vapid, useless. "Did you wash the glass first? Is it really clean?" "What if she feels upset because we didn't give her equal opportunity to share?" 'Did you zip the bag? Did you check?" There is valid concern, and then there is excess. People in general err on the side of excess. This internal ticker timer projects externally as impatience, I'm sure. Why do people worry so much? Why are they cautious about so many things? Why do they keep speculating on the intentions of others and their motives? Why are they so fearful about potentially offending someone? What gives? I realise without concrete examples it is very difficult to illustrate this point, without sounding like some inconsiderate, selfish or stoic prig. Worry is often a form of action paralysis - thinking yourself into a muddle, masked as concern for others - and that aggravates me; when people are constrained by fear.

Recently on a Christian group trip, some unexpected dancers came into the restaurant where we were seated and started egging on a young guy to drink and dance with them. They had been invited by one of the hosts without our prior knowledge. The guy drank the wine they offered, and they started to tease him by being too intimate (hugged him while trying to do the cross-handed cup exchange). Some group members laughed and cheered, others were frozen with a look of horror on their faces. The guy smiled awkwardly throughout the experience, his face beet red, as you would expect with someone embarrassed. The dancers then went on to make fun of other male members in the group.
That evening, we found out that the young guy was furious with the rest of us and wanted to skip debrief and devotion. He felt coerced into the situation, and betrayed by the group's response. Betrayed?

My first response was to brush it off (before I found out about the severity of his response) I'm sure he's fine. It's so minor. He wasn't the only one targeted. He played along, who forced him? If he didn't want to, he could have stopped.

Then we got wind of how he was completely silent on the drive back to the hotel, furious and very affected. A started being moody to the point of tears - I couldn't understand if she felt like she was responsible, or was just so sensitive to other's feelings that when someone else was upset, she felt upset too. Suddenly I had a crew of emotional people to manage, comfort and counsel. The whole situation just seemed blown out of proportion to me. Perhaps he really did feel forced. If I did something, it'd be because I wanted to do it. If I didn't want to, I'd stop doing it. Who's forcing? What, if you just shake your head and break out of the hug, the group would be offended? No, the group would then know you felt uncomfortable and side with you!

So I found myself in a situation where I had to take responsibility for the event even though it had been foisted unplanned upon us. I had to counsel someone even though for the life of me I couldn't understand initially how something as small as this could trigger such an intense emotional response. Community life is draining because what you see as small, is huge to another. What you perceive as an important issue (accuracy), is to someone else inconsequential.

Most people relate to multiplicity of views (a differing opinion, a jarring perspective), with an emotional outburst. Anger, impatience, sadness, guilt, indignation. But for writers, or people like me, (I don't think I'm the only one?) my response is the recognition of a rational/personality disconnect that needs to be explained. I stay fairly calm, and I approach the issue with a kind of tender distance. I pick apart the strands of what led you to feel that way towards something, while standing on the outskirts myself - preferring not to soil myself with the distorting smear of emotion. That distance is sometimes hard to understand. Others might misconstrue it as a lack of empathy, or an anti-social detachment. Psychologists might recognise it as a notch close to psychopathy - an unfeeling distance.
But the fine line that separates this tender distance from psychopathy is that word, "unfeeling". I know what led you to feel upset, even if I wouldn't feel or respond with that same emotion in the given context. I sense the broken frameworks that might have led you to process something differently. It might be wounded esteem, expectation, pride, or a hundred other reasons. In that sense I feel you - as a post-rational trace; circling back, divorced from the initial blow.

I am not there yet, though. There are many responses I don't understand. There are situations that strain the limits of my empathy. There are so many instances I am aloof, and stay aloof- refusing to process, seeing as tediously minute what to you might be mammoth. There are times the issues loom so huge (like insecurity) I don't have the energy to dare to wade into deep waters. There are even times it is not my place to care.

Coming of age.

Do we ever arrive? Coming of age - becoming- is typically applied to teenagers; but adulting doesn’t ever exhaust that process. Nobody seems to ever fully arrive. We may have clearer or fainter ideas of our goals and where we’d like to be headed; but the moment one milestone clears the other looms ahead. These mountains may make you feel small, or they may motivate your swell so that you can overcome. Oftentimes a mountain is both- inflating and deflating.
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Growth - there is a place for that. Unbridled, and in the wrong places, it becomes cancerous.

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How much you know a person > how much you trust > how much you rely on > physical touch

Apparently the equation to an enduring marriage relationship.

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This is just a record stream of consciousness, like a notebook; sorry that it doesn’t make sense.

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Vision: If space is language, I want to be a linguist. Translating from ideation to sensation. Program to spatiality. Intention to matter. To be a doorkeeper into new worlds of experience.

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Community - what kind are we building?

waiting.

what is february about? it's a period of intense waiting. waiting is disconcerting because it makes you introspective. there is nothing to cloud your vision, to occupy your hands, to distract your mind. so you turn inwards, examine every stone, the letters left out of place, the soiled dishes left unwashed in the sink of your soul.
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life is hard. it gets lonely. it slings fears in your face and watches for your response. it cuts and snares your clothing. branches stick their legs out to trip you. what do we have to conquer it? this amorphous sword called love. and those who are brave wield it boldly. are not afraid to take it out of our coats and fling it around; the more we use it the less gelatine it becomes. the less indistinct. the less wobbly. the substance of love comes from its use.
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 what of love? jesus loves me.  that old childhood refrain. this i know? somehow i find that childhood leaves its marks on us indelibly. the core of each of us; our essences, were marked growing up. what sparks love and hate, fear or envy, pride or joy. those were formed early on. to be loved eternally, by an eternal God, who never leaves my side, although i cannot see him, feel him. he knows me. to be completely loved, and yet not know it? let me know your love. that is all i pray these days. let me know your love. then there is love from fellowship- the imperfect loves of friendship. of family. that though tainted, is at least visible. tangible.
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why do i have so many secrets? perhaps it is because of fear. perhaps a lack of desire to reveal what is precious to people whom i don't care for. to have what is of value demeaned by people i couldn't possibly expect to value it, because i disagree with their vision. yet, don't all of us long to see eye to eye with others on things and issues that matter deeply to us? to have an inner chord struck of deep reassurance, of affirmation, of agreement. that is not easily found.
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writing is a part of me that has always been secret. even when i won a book prize for $6000 only my parents knew. my blogs are hidden and unpublished. my diaries are secret, obviously. cubes - design writing has been public but it didn't contain my soul. just my mental observations. except that article on epic homes, i think. i've written and researched on the singapore river, on gardens, on warehouses, on the magnetic meeting of two strangers. what i really want to write about is the changing atmosphere of entering a new world, and seeing with fresh eyes. an adventure. could i try? i give myself permission to try. forget the public eye. invest in yourself. give affirmation to my own ideas. instead of writing only what i'm commissioned for. be commissioned by love. 
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 i will start writing. even if i'm just staring at a blank page, i dedicate half an hour everyday to writing the short story. 
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 it shall be called "reservoir between two walls."

Active Passive.

It does seem like daily posts were too much to ask. I have the attention span of a rabbit.  2017 has been a year of risk taking- of learning to make decisions. Of speaking about my work- learning to defend, craft my story. Not there yet for sure. But I'm seeing the importance, not just to be part of a consensus- but to create that consensus. Not just to be well informed, empathetic, but to create empathy- to inform and sketch the outlines of perception. After all, people are gonna judge you anyway. Why not give them a more accurate picture.  And that is only through sharing your story, opening up your narrative. Stringing it together in the first place.  One thing bugging me is- craft the vision, or walk by faith? Lorinne cautioned against a take it as it comes model. HonLeong said in order to chase, there must be something to chase first. If there's nothing, just relax!  Opportunities come from God. In a sense, uncle HL's approach feels much more relaxed and removes fear. Because as a service provider, I have to wait for opportunities. I can put up a website, Instagram, talk about my work. But it's a passive role in that I don't initiate these projects. I can make myself easier to find, but I get found. I seize opportunities as they come- I pitch, share, convince. But I don't cold call and knock on every possible door to ask- hey, you got project? The very thought of that disgusts me.  There are, other aspects where I'm not the passive recipient. Where I can drive. Eg. Workshops. Liaising with MY on the soap project. Research. To categorize knowledge. Administration. Setting up QP systems. Learning computer programs. Refreshing knowledge on A&As. These however have less to do with the core business- of design projects. They are more of the ecosystem around the core- facilitating and enriching the possibilities, the web of ideas.  To wait in hope, to find rest between battles, to attack the day with every given opportunity. 

Doorkeeper.

He asked, "what does being a door keeper mean to you?"

Silence. (6 days and counting)

I'm not being rude on purpose. It just is a very important question to me, and I don't want to give a cursory response.

22 All these, who were chosen as gatekeepers at the thresholds, were 212. They were enrolled by genealogies in their villages. David and Samuel the seer established them in their office of trust. 23 So they and their sons were in charge of the gates of the house of the Lord, that is, the house of the tent, as guards. 24 The gatekeepers were on the four sides, east, west, north, and south. 25 And their kinsmen who were in their villages were obligated to come in every seven days, in turn, to be with these, 26 for the four chief gatekeepers, who were Levites, were entrusted to be over the chambers and the treasures of the house of God. 27 And they lodged around the house of God, for on them lay the duty of watching, and they had charge of opening it every morning.

1 Chronicles 9:22-27.

Being a door keeper means:
1. You hold a key. The key opens and closes doors to the house of God.
2. You greet. You are acquainted with the people coming and going; because you are the first face they meet before they enter, and the last one to lock up and leave.
3. You stand at the threshold. Your duty is to stand at the point of transition between in and out, holy and worldly. To be at the intersection of things.
4. In the bible, the doorkeepers had duties. These included: 
- Watching.
- Charge of utensils for serving.
- Charge of furniture, holy utensils, also over the fine flour, the wine, the oil, the incense, and the spices. 
- Mixing of spices.
- Making flat cakes.
- Preparing showbread.
- Singers: on duty day and night.
You are in charge of the holy things of God.
5. You stand at four gates, facing four cardinal directions. 

That doesn't seem to make personal sense to me, God. 

2 And I will place on his shoulder the key of the house of David. He shall open, and none shall shut; and he shall shut, and none shall open. 
Isaiah 22:22

Please reveal your understanding on this.
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What do I want to start doing, stop doing, and continue doing?

2017. The Thing.

Wow. Not a single post in 2016.

I was contemplating starting a new blog somewhere, lost in the Internet of things, unsearchable. Then I remembered there was this space.

And in light of 2017 - fraught with new anxieties, new hopes, the turmoil that is an existential crisis - I have decided to continue this blog, daily. To resolve, to complete, to push myself further. Rather than to open a new box of candy, and leave it rootless, endless, abandoned.

I have many abandoned children. They are thoughts, lying tangled in a box - strings that are half unfurled, undone, knots that lie untied.

Questions of: what am I doing, really? Who am I? What is the ultimate vision I want to pursue? Where do I exert my will, energies, focus? What is this end goal I need to hone into?

Is it in writing? Becoming a fiction writer?
Is it in art? Honing my photographic skills, creating a photographic travel commentary?
Is it in design? Hustling for jobs and partnerships to grow this practice?
Is it in missions? Doing the community some good, building the kingdom?

2016 - God laid it out for me. I spent March to December finishing up the tasks he literally placed into my plate in February. 9 months. It was easy, compared to the start of this year. This year he doesn't seem to want to do the plating. But what will he have me do? Firstly, stop meandering.
I am frustrated for many reasons, but chiefly because there is a sense of an unarticulated vision.
Without vision, people perish. That is painfully true. I feel it in my bones.

I CAN pursue many things, but not all things. I believe if I set it out - I can find ways, with God's favour, to accomplish them. But the hardest thing ever is to SET IT OUT. To sketch the outlines, the shape, mass, form of what this Thing is. This next season of my life - this next chapter. It seems pivotal, epic, almost. Jesus started his ministry when he was 30. Here I'm doing a freak out. When maybe his was somewhere on a mountain with God, alone, before the sky turned light.

Maybe He had a freak out there. Maybe in his freak out he heard a voice say - You are my Son. Boom.

I need that boom. Because the Thing is not just a thing. It is closely and inseparably tied, in the deepest of places, with my identity. Yeah yeah, my identity is in Jesus. I am a daughter of God. But He also prepared good works in advance for us to walk in them, right? What you want, you have to go get. There is a co-walking involved; and I don't think this existential crisis is a bad thing. In fact it is essential to anyone who wants to lead a life that makes sense. That has purpose. It is asking yourself the big questions that nobody has answers to, that nobody can find except you - that causes the freak out. And not asking them doesn't solve anything. It doesn't do you any favours. Coasting along doesn't ANSWER anyone. And Coasting Along seems to have been the tagline for 2016.

I had a taste of what it was like to start a company. Wow, entrepreneur. To finish 2 high profile projects that were featured in the newspapers. To have my name and quote appear in the newspaper.
Hah. So. what.

I am grateful. This is not a lack of appreciation for the insane opportunities that have been given. I have said THANK YOU GOD countless of times, in private and public. This is about the next page. This is about resolving and finding the ends of the string balls that have gotten all knotted and tangled. And tidying the mess that is in my soul - the unanswered questions about what my deep gutted core purpose in life IS.

GOD HELP ME.