:-)

:-)

Life is but many puzzles - whatever the consequences, the pressures, the stupidity, the urgency, the lightness, the significance, .... that comes behind it. Whatever. Big, small, gigantic, minuscule, long, short, tall, short, complex, simple ... Whatever. Getting past them is always, ALWAYS, a joy.

YeeeeeeeeEEEES!!

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Glass Of Water

What would you do when life tastes as bland as a glass of water?

Yeah, what would you do?

Hmmm ... I guess I should first ask why?

Why?

Wait ... Maybe I should first ask: "Really?"

OK. Really?

Are you sure it hasn't always been like this? Has it ever tasted anything tastier than a glass of plain water?

It sure has. Well ... it should have. Hasn't it? Otherwise, knowing how disgusted I feel right now, it would be darn amazing, no, downright miraculous that I can hang on for forty-odd years.

So, the drink offered has suddenly turned tasteless?

Actually, it's been on and off. Just that so far, the blandness would fade in times. This time round, it's been hanging around for a bit too long. So long that I feel up to the brim with nausea.

Well, taste is relative? Isn't it? Perhaps the taste of the water has always been the same, it's your perception of the taste that's changed?

My perception of the taste?

There is a possibility that the glass of water in front of you has never changed, but depending on your emotion, you would taste sweetness when you're happy, fizziness when you're excited, sourness when you're sad, bitterness when you're disappointed, and bittersweet when you're ... sad and happy at the same time, etc, etc.

That's a thought. So, my boredom towards life at the moment explains the blandness?

Well, that's a load of cow dungs! You stupid donkey!! Of course I'm bored!!! Why would I complain if I'm not.

But that does kill off the 'Really?' question.

So I guess it doesn't matter whether the water does taste bland or it's my perception that makes it so. But why?

Yeah, why?

Yeah, why ...

Hey, guess what?

What?

I feel better already.

So bashing me made you feel better?

Don't be silly. I think talking it out with someone did.

Glad I could be of service. But you do know that, technically, you're talking to yourself, right?

I do. Hey, as long as it helps.

We should do it again. I think you have something there on 'my perception of taste' that's worth further exploring.

In the mean time, go away ...

I'll be seeing you again. Just hope it won't be too soon.

No worries. See ya.

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Light and Enlightenment

I was never into photography, until a few weeks ago. And that's because I'm a cheapskate.

We decided to get an entry-level DSLR camera a few weeks ago. Not too expensive, not cheap either. So I figure to get the most out of it, I would have to take as many pictures with the camera as possible to drive the cost per picture down, and thus diluting the digestible-but-still-hard-to-swallow investment in the camera. So, I dug into the camera's manual, and ploughed through photography web sites trying to empower myself to squeeze even more juice from the camera. And I was caught surprised.

My previous experience in photography was nothing more than taking a point-and-shoot camera (a term I learned only recently) and taking photos of the person or persons in front of me, while trying not to cut off their heads. As I was trying to get a clearer picture of what digital photography can achieve, I suddenly realised that photography is so much more than what I thought it was.

While I was trying to get my head around the concepts of exposure, aperture, shutter speed, ISO, white balance, HDR, D-lighting, bracketing etc, etc, I came to realise that most of these functions are not just trying to capture what we see, they actually allow us to transcend what we see into what we perceive. This goes way beyond of what I, a photographic ignorant, thought about photography before - to simply capture what we see. But there's probably a very good reason to the existence of these exciting features.

The camera is trying to emulate the sophisticated mechanism that is our eyes with these functions. While these functions fail to achieve the flexibility of our eyes, they actually open up a whole spectrum of creative possibilities by enabling us to inject our aesthetic colours and hues into what we see. I know, I know ... photography has been around for ages, and I'm probably the last one to realise this. But while I was gradually taking in the ideas of this art form of light, and thrilled to have found a new toy (much like what I have discovered with this blog), another thought slowly surfaced in my mind -

Photography is actually going the opposite direction of Buddhism.

If anyone asks about my religion, I would claim to be a Buddhist. However, if the knowledge of Buddhism is like an ocean, my understanding of it is only as much as dipping my legs into the river that feeds into the ocean. So not there yet. My grasp of Buddhism is that, without over-simplification, in life, an apple is an apple, nothing more, nothing less. To attain peace within ourselves, we should accept it as an apple wholeheartedly without any other thoughts like one apple is not enough, or I prefer a red to a green apple, or I rather have apple juice, or why am I not getting an orange, etc.

Having thought that, it dawned on me that when we're trying to paint our artistic vision of colours and shades over the photograph of an apple, we're actually heading away from the teaching of Buddhism, or rather my understanding of Buddhism.

Not a bad thing, but it's food for thoughts.

No matter.

I just want to announce that in the future, there will be more photos being posted here in this blog. And hopefully, that's as delicious as an apple.

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Thought of The Day

There I was, trying to catch up with my breath sitting on the bench panting. My T-shirt was being given a pre-soak with salt water before laundry. There's really no feeling more alive than oozing out sweat like the faucets are broken in a hot Sunday afternoon.

Sunday afternoon is one of my favourite times of the week, playing games of badminton with a group of friends. But it's also times like these that I realise I'm middle-aged. But that's not the thought of the day. That thought announced its grand entrance a few years ago when I hurt my back lifting something I lifted with my little finger way back then.

With no regular exercises in the past, fifteen minutes of running and hitting the shuttlecock is all I can afford before passing out on the court.

So there I was, panting and celebrating the survival of another round of 'gruelling' game of badminton - of which running is to what the youngsters call strolling, and smashing is to what they call stroking - outside the hall. There were a few guys from another group chatting not far away from me. Some of them were drinking, and two of them were smoking (yeah, beats me too). But that's not the thought of the day.

Then a few of them stood up and walked towards the hall. It's a badminton hall, so all doors would be closed to prevent any draft into the hall. But some of them were left unlocked and unlatched to let the players in and out. The doors opened outwards and there were no handles on the outsides of the doors, probably to prevent unauthorised breaking in or whatever.

After the first few of them entered the hall using a slightly ajar door, they closed the door. A few minutes later, the last two followed. And before they reach the door, my fingers were feeling a bit tingly thinking how they would try to pry and pull open the doors with their hands. But that was me, definitely not the smartest guy in the world. No, that's not the thought of the day either.

As the guys approached the door, one of them raised his hand and, to my surprise, gave the door a slight push. The laws of physics are the laws of physics, they stick. As the door was pushed, it hit the frame and bounced back, leaving it slightly opened, and in they went.

There I was, panting still, hitting an imaginative slap on my sweaty forehead - "How clever!"

As in many other cases, little things in life can teach us a lot of other things about life. It would seem obvious that if we want something in life, we would think of all ways to pull them towards us. But sometimes, the most effective way is not the most obvious way, and it might need a little out-of-the-box thinking. From this observation, it would imply that sometimes, to pull something towards us, we need to first give it a little push, like ..., or as in ..., you know, in those situation where ... hmm ...

I'm very sure the above lesson can be applied in some real life situation, but my thinking train was a bit slow, especially when I was trying to chase back my breathes. As I said, not the smartest guy in the world. And that's also where my train of thoughts was derailed by the thought of the day. The one that gave the light bulb above my head a ten-thousands-watts glare -

"Hey, I have a subject for a post in this blog!"

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Mind-numbling Mondays

Monday sucks.

The most difficult part of Mondays is waking up. Yet physically, it's the easiest - all you have to do is open your eyes and get out of bed. But really, it's like pulling a ten tonnes wooden cart towards the light ahead. If you had an early Sunday night, two steps forward and you're there. If you had spent the night at your favourite pub, then you would probably have to sweat it out a few more steps. Should you accept the one-for-the-road-drink once too often, then it'll be half a mile ahead, on a forty-five-degree slope, upward.

Hard as it is, it's the first thing that needs to be done. The good thing is, if you manage to get through it, you would have lifted off from the lowest point of the week. Better, but still sucks.

I try to get through most Mondays like a robot - emotionless - which I think is the best way. I would blank out my thoughts and just do what need to be done, one step at a time. Brushing teeth - personal hygiene. Done. Eating breakfast - energy to get through the day. Done. Driving - to go to work. Done. Work - livelihood. C'mon, let's go! Wait ... that's a Friday battle cry. On Monday, it's more like, OooooK, let's do it.

The method of execution is important. Focus.

Brushing teeth is nothing more than rubbing my teeth and gum with a toothpaste-topped toothbrush. Breakfast is simply putting edible stuff into the mouth and chewing and swallowing. Driving is merely stepping on the right pedal to go, and the left pedal to brake - or is it the other way round? See what I mean about focusing? Get the job done, nothing more, nothing less.

The same principle applies at work. For example, there's an activity that I need to repeat through the day for about seven or eight times to get my job done. So while I'm doing it, I would blank out the numbers, forget about the frustration on how many more times that I need to do it. Focus on the job and just do it. Nothing more, nothing less. Before you knew it, it will be the last time I'll be doing it for the day.

Hopefully, nothing that requires more time and effort than deciding on whether to chew my food twenty times or twenty one times during lunch would pop up during work, and I would be done by the time my work needs to be done. If anything does pop up, curse for a few minutes and get into it again. Focus and just do it. Nothing more, nothing less.

Driving home after work on Mondays is probably the best part of the day. One down, and <number blanked out> to go. My spirit is starting to soar.

Once I reach home, my mind will start to wonder a little bit. It is allowed to wonder a little bit. It will attach more emotions to dinner, tv programs, my children's homework, the blogs I read, etc.

On a reflective thought though, I wonder if that's not the way to live our lives? Focus and just do it. Nothing more, nothing less. But that's probably too much grinding for my brain on a Monday night, so is editing this post for the n-th time.

That would leave the next best thing to do to be done - hitting the bed early to get the day dusted and done with.

Sweet dream ...

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Fast Forward

I am over forty years old, but I wish I was eighty ... no, sixty years old now.

These few years will probably be the happiest time of my life. There's a steady, but could be better, income, and no short to medium term worries about food, clothings or accommodation. I still have my health in good condition, although I am starting to feel that certain screws and nuts within me are starting to loosen. I'm not an ambitious man, so all is fine. I'm happy. Most importantly, I have a lovely family with two adorable kids who, I think, also adores me. By this last blessing alone, I can easily declare that this will be the happiest time of my life.

I'm living in probably the happiest time of my life, yet I cannot fully enjoy it.

Like a swarm of flies, problems and worries, work related or otherwise, would not stop buzzing irritatingly around my head. There are no major issues, they won't kill me and they are not anything that I cannot solve, and I accept them as parts and parcels of life like I accept laughters and sunshines. But their ever-presence and persistence are annoying.

It's easy to say 'The gem cannot be polished without friction nor man without trials', or 'Adversities are the spices of life', or 'The art of living lies less in eliminating our troubles than in growing with them', or 'Rock bottom is good solid ground, and a dead end street is just a place to turn around', or simply 'Don't worry, be happy'. All valid, and all I truly believe. They all work. But, still, easier said than done. It takes times to turn the mentality around and turn those pests into solid grounds, or gems, or spices, or artistic works. And if it takes longer than my patience, I will start to get frustrated.

I'm at the happiest stage of my life, and I want to enjoy it! Fully. Totally. Completely. Every single day. Maybe I am asking too much from life.

As each day passes, I am slowly heading out of my current stage of life towards the next, which will probably be less enjoyable. I want to enjoy my life now as much as possible. In addition to the realisation that 40's is not young anymore, I am a bit desperate. I don't want these problems and worries hanging low above me blocking my full view of a clear blue sky. They might not turn into a storm, or they might get blown away, but nobody can focus in the present for ever without looking up once in a while and ponder upon the future.

Childhood was good. All we do is wake up, eat, play, eat some more, play a little bit more and sleep. Carefree. Adolescence was fantastic - friends, parties, outings, crushes. Vibrant. Early stage of adulthood was great - everyday was an adventure, every step was a new frontier conquered. Exciting. Ah ... great time. Happy time. Enjoyable time. Upon hind sight.

Looking back, reluctance to study during childhood seems petty; peer pressure during adolescence appears insignificant; job worries during early adulthood looks immaterial. Looking back, all seems rosy. But, of course, these problems and worries were as heavy then as the problems and worries that I'm facing now. In retrospect, they are weightless.

So, it would seem that to really enjoy and truly appreciate my present life, I need to be in my 60's this instant and live my life in the 40's now.

Of course, by the time I really get to 60 years old, I would probably wish that I was 80 years old. And at 80's, maybe I would wish that I was dead.

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The End of The World

Yes, the world will finally come to an end. The baby dragon inside Earth is ready to hatch. The atmosphere around the egg is finally favourable enough, and the eggshell will crack. Yes, we are mere germs living on the egg shell of a planet-size egg. And our climate warming? Artificial incubation.

Or the end will come because the moon is finally old enough and clumsy enough to inevitably lose its balance and stumble straight onto Earth; or the sun will be finally so pissed off by our ignorance that it'll throw flames of million, billion, gerzillion degrees all over Earth and has himself a barbecue.

Or a brick will fall right onto our heads and knock us dead. That's it, the end of the world.

With the recent instances of catastrophes of earth quakes, tsunamis, floods, mud slides, etc in frequency quicker than the incessant sneezing during a cold, it's not surprising that the-end-of-the-world-is-coming theories are surfacing to spread the dooms and glooms here and there. And I have to admit, once in a while, my pessimistic self would get so frivolously optimistic and my optimistic self would get so downright pessimistic that they'll drag my whole self down and succumb to such fear.

But here's a thought - if somehow you get an update (either by a text or a dream, an sms or an mms, a status update or a tweet, an email or a snail mail) from God, or whatever ultimate being that you believe is controlling our fate, that this is it, game over, the journey has reached an end, the final petal of the rose has fallen, the water has run dry, no more time, the world will go bust within three months, or any length of times, would you go spread the message?

There's no question of hallucination. The fate of the world is as sure as the fate of an egg under the feet of a stomping dinosaur. This is it. Would you go tell everyone what you know?

Assured that nobody will throw rotten eggs at you or ridicule you, everybody will believe unreservedly in what you say, would you stand up on a chair, put up your hands, raise you voice and shout, "The world is coming to an end!"

Would you? Would you?

WHO CARES!!

THE WORLD IS COMING TO AN END!!!

AN END!!!!!!

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So I Thought

And I thought life had been treating me harsh.

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Nothingness

That's what it was in the beginning - nothingness.

After a seemingly endless time of straining, two words painstakingly surfaced. They were hardly discernible floating in the darkness emanating from the void. Still, the two words did wonder, having poached the tension of the surface. They started to trickle.

At long last, the void disappeared, swallowed by the bright light flashing from the fusion of six words into an entity.

"I wrote. The void is filled."

There, my desire for creativity was fulfilled. Satisfaction.

Until the next surge ...

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Running

"Ah ... it's a good day to run."

That reminds me of Flatliners - Julia Roberts, Kiefer Sutherland, Kevin Bacon, life, near-death, death, near-life, life, and Julia Roberts. Although I'm not here to deal with such weighty issues, there's no more appropriate statement than that at the moment.

I'm standing on the running track that circles the big green land of grass. The sun is trudging westwards and drizzling what's left in his bag of tropical elements through the openings of the evening clouds. And the wind is casually laying its cosy warmth across the park. On any other Sunday afternoon, I would probably be enjoying a nap in the comfort of my bed under the cooling fan. But not today.

Sans of the tiring colours of any concrete-greys, the lushness of the greens reflecting under the cloudy sky off the trees and the grass is therapeutic, to the mind and to the sight. A splash of liveliness is added by the vivid colours displayed at the corner of the field, where a playground stands. I take a deep breath, trying to draw in the scene of serenity in front. I smell grass, tropics, laziness in the air, and life.

Running was never my choice of exercise, but it's preferred over swimming. When I run, I don't feel the fear of sinking if I stop. Since the time I promised myself I have to run regularly when I hit the big 4-0 until now, two years and less than ten runs in between, another run is way past overdue. Okay then.

I start to walk around the field, slowly immerse myself into the buzzes of the place - joggers running past me, walkers walking in front of me, chatting if they are in pairs; in the middle of the field there are youngsters playing football, families flying kites, kids yelling at the playground; friends having a chat on the benches situated around the park, food lovers having a bowl of local delicacies at the mobile stalls. Ahh ... such vibrancy. Loving it. For a sport as lonely as running, I very much prefer to do it in a crowded place like this, much like how I enjoy a meal in a crowded eatery, alone. Part of being a human being, I guess - we need space, yet we need companionship.

After completing one cycle around the field, I feel ready and pick up the pace from walking to jogging.

Sure enough, with the last run happened more than a year ago, after less than ten minutes -

I stop.



















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Hummm ...

I've always thought that monotony is the bane of life, when life is supposed to be colourful. And there I was, observing a dripping bag trickling poison into life - a man holding onto the same job, at the same place, serving the same stuff to the same sets of customers for at least the last twelve years.

I cringed at the mere thought of me in his shoes.

Six jobs in the last eight years - that's how disgusted I am and deal with monotony. Alarm screaming, snooze, more screaming, getting up, traffic, familiar routines, lunch, more familiar routines, traffic, dinner, tv, boredom-induced sleeping, day break, alarm screaming, snooze ... - my heart aches just thinking about the cycle. It won't be so bad, if the routine need no constant pep talking, incessant pumping up and continuous patting on the back to keep it going. And the thing that's more wretched than monotony is - more forthcoming monotonies. The thoughts of going through the tunnel of monotony again the next day weighs heavier than going through the tunnel of monotony itself. The moment I started to feel such weigh and stranglehold, I started to look for another job, lest I would die of suffocation.

After my third job as a stationery salesman, I started to suspect that there must be something wrong. There must be something I'm not seeing that everybody else see, everybody else who stay in their jobs for more than two years, consecutively. Sure, I have after-work activities and weekends to oil those dreadful routines, but work taking up more than three quarters of my life? Surely, there must be more?

Marriage during my fourth job didn't change much of my mentality towards work. Still, life got sweeter - after work, and during weekends, and public holidays, and the annual vacation. But the arrival of my wife's pregnancy a few months ago did.

After the excitement of being a father for the first time subsided, for also the first time, I started to feel the hot breathes of the monster called life down my neck. As the birth of my first child approaches, I feel my grips on my fight against monotony loosening, escaping through another job suddenly seems an irresponsible option. It does seem I have to somehow stick it out with this job, which took me back to the area where I started with my first job.

Back then, I was working as an account clerk, and my favourite place was a coffee shop near the office. No delicious food and coffee that tastes so-so, I guess that's why it wasn't crowded most of the times. It was my favourite because it had enough fans and not many walls to make the place cooling, it's quiet, and I don't have to wait for a table to have an enjoyable time reading my newspaper. That's the highlight of my workday.

After eight years during which I have changed six jobs, it's run by the same man, wearing seemingly the same T-shirt and apron, and with a slightly balder head. It's not that I was surprised to see him there taking my order of drink, but when I saw him bringing my cup of coffee to me, my mind was flashing like crazy, in black and white, with these words - monotony is the bane of life, monotony is the bane of life, monotony ... And this man had been there for at least twelve years - when I first frequented the place, he'd already been there for four years.

He's not the only person who has achieved the "feat". And I often wonder how do they dilute the tortures of such humdrums. Do they have no feelings? What are their secrets?

As he sat and rested behind the counter, I was beginning to suspect he wasn't actually better than me. His smile disappeared and his face started to show signs of weariness. Just as I sighed in the same weariness, I saw his tired face blossoming into a smile that only genuine happiness will bring. As I turned towards the direction of his smile, I saw a young boy in school uniform walking into the shop, humming a little tune, wearing the same kind of smile. I didn't immediately recognise the face, but slowly, an image of a father cooing a toddler from eight years ago surfaced ...

That's it!

I still think that monotony is the bane of life, but maybe I was drilling at the wrong direction all these times. Perhaps survival being the most important part of our lives doesn't allow us to think twice about our livelihoods. Love it or hate it, all we can do is to grind our teeth, learn to live with it and get on with it. Perhaps we don't need an antidote to this bane in this significant part of our lives. Maybe what we need is a justification, especially when it relates to the happiness and well-being of our loved ones.

That's it?


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So ...

What's on your mind?

Dunno. But it's kind of heavy.

Work? Relationship? Personal? Family?

Hmmm ... sort of a little bit of everything.

That's what they call LIFE ... Hang on, positive heavy or negative heavy.

Not exactly negative, but definitely not bubbly positive. Just heavy.

First time feeling like this?

Nope. It's been a while. In fact, on and off for the past few years, I guess.

A sudden change happened in your life lately?

No ... there's no changes in my life lately. Well, little changes happen all the time here and there, but no, there's no major changes that would throw me into these kinds of heavy thoughts. No, not that.

Then?

I suddenly have the realisation that I'm not exactly the captain of my ship in this voyage called LIFE. I was constantly being pulled in all directions except mine. I'm doing things that I may not want to do. I'm not complaining, I understand that's part of life. And sometimes making sacrifices and doing things for others is what happiness is all about. I won't always get to do what I want to do all the times. In fact, I might not want to do what I want to do all the times. That's life.

Seems like you're at peace with where you are right now. What's the problem then?

Well ... I guess the bigger problem than not being the captain of my ship is - without these external pulling factors, I'm not exactly sure where I want to go with this ship of mine ...


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Ready?

The train of thoughts was flagged off by a picture of the recent flood in Manila, Philippines. Its speed picked up with a story of a robber praying with his victim in the US. A dialogue with tertiary students by Singapore Minister Mentor Mr Lee Kuan Yew loaded it with more purposes. On its way, it took a slight turn and picked up a story that I had been wanting to write for a while. It reached the penultimate stop in my previous post. And now here we are, chronicling the journey of this particular series of thoughts on parenting.

Game for a ride on the J-Train?

While hopping through blogs recently after the Typhoon Ondoy had wreaked havoc in Manila, a particular picture captured my imagination. It shows a well-dressed middle-aged woman carrying her handbag on top of her head wading through chest-deep flood waters. "Unpredictability" was the word that sprung up from the contrast reflected in the picture. With the recent spates of natural disasters, it does seem Mother Nature has run out of patience, striking readily anywhere, anytime, and anyhow - ready or not.

Not so long ago, if we were caught in such a predicament and need to start over, we have the comfort and assurance that our insurances or savings and investment in financial institutions will kick-start our recovery when we need it. But during an age when long-established major banks, insurance and financial institutions, and even a country can go bankrupt, the safety net provided by our finances suddenly seems loose, and with it, our economies.

In my non-professional, non-economist opinion, our economies have evolved too far away from the supply and demand of our basic needs, and weighed too heavily on a financial system that is too sensitive to sentiments and opinions. The greater the influences of human factors are in our economies, the more fragile and unpredictable it is. And much like the wraths of Mother Nature, it does seem it can falter and crumble anywhere, anytime and anyhow - ready or not. And not so long ago, it did. And it seems a certain Mr Smith was not ready.

Have you heard about the praying robber? In short - Mr Smith was unemployed, has a family to support, decided to rob a bank, ended up praying together with his victim, gave up his gun, ran off with a cell phone and $20, and later turned himself in after being convinced by his mother, who saw a surveillance video showing his face on TV.

What struck me with that piece of news was that - my son could be Mr Smith in the future!

On the face of these few facts, I'll make a few assumptions. I assume Mrs Smith had raised her boy much like I'm raising my children - with a similar set of moral values and righteous characteristics that would make them grow up to be responsible members of the society (he did own up to his wrongdoings). I also assume and am quite sure that Mr Smith had struggled and failed to refrain himself from stepping into the world of crime as a solution to his financial problems (he seemed nice, as a robber).

Mr Smith had erred, just as my children will make mistakes of various degree in the future. He is big enough to raise his hand and admit his misdemeanours; and I hope if my children do make a mistake in the future, they'll be responsible enough to do the same. In some ways, Mr Smith is the intended result of our parenting, except he had decided to rob.

How do I prevent my children from following the criminal footsteps of Mr Smith if they were faced with the same financial destitute? How should Mrs Smith have brought up her son differently to avoid his misdeeds? Given the fragility and unpredictability of our economies (my assumption), how should we prepare our children to face any possible financial destitute in the future mentally? It's one thing to describe the pain of a tooth being pulled out, without any painkillers, and another to actually go through the pain physically.

Perhaps we should not be too protective of our children from hardship. Or perhaps we should lead our families to a lifestyle of modesty bordering on hardship, even though our income allows us to enjoy better things in life. Perhaps companionship with hardship during childhood will strengthen the wall of resistance against any desire to take the easy way out of any financial difficulties in their future. Should we, as parents, forgo these "better things in life" and make these sacrifices to better prepare our children for any possibilities in their financial future?

Minister Mentor Mr Lee of Singapore certainly thinks so, as he had revealed during a recent dialogue with tertiary students. He and his wife refused to move into the official prime minister residence for the sake of their children. In absolute terms, him living it down was probably still many, many levels above us. But in relative terms, he did live it down for the sake of his children.

I'm sure, as parents, we all try to give the best to our children - better food, better clothes, better quality of life, piano lessons, art courses, ballet classes, etc, etc, as far as our income can afford. And at times, we even pay for them with our future income. That's how much we love our children. And I assume that's what Mrs Smith did too.

But, as parents, are we missing something?



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Of Scrabble And Life

A game of Scrabble, in many ways, is similar to life and its challenges.

We get our seven tiles. The board laced with squares of green, blues and reds lies in front. The rules prop up the board, and our chest of vocabulary stands ready. The objective? To be the player with the highest score at the end of the game. As in challenges in life, everything stands in front of us. How do we confront them?

We don't get to choose our tiles. But getting seven tiles with one point does not mean we can get a maximum of mere seven points. Using the same set of tiles, we can get up to the seventies, or eighties with knowledge of the rules, the depth of our vocabulary and the clever use of the tiles lying on the board. Our achievement is not limited to what's thrown at us, or within our reach. With knowledge, acute observation and an agile mind, one plus one can always be greater than two.

Image by Vanessa Pike-Russell via Flickr

However, if we keep hitting a brick wall matching our tiles to our arsenal of vocabularies, we can always opt for a tiles exchange. It is akin to changing jobs, moving house, migrating to a foreign country, or starting another relationship. We won't know what we will get - we might jump with joy, or we might pinch ourselves and ask "Why bother?", or we might even pull our hair and yell in regrets and frustration. But one thing is certain: we will miss a turn, and the opponents will be given a chance to increase their lead on us, or cut short our leads. The transition is always a risk, and it needs to be managed with the appropriate mentality and attitude.

But is it a risk worth taking? We can never be sure.

The option to exchange is always a comfort to have. At times when we do find ourselves facing dead ends, it's a breather. And the path of life should never lead to a dead end. Take a step away from the dead ends, and a myriad of options are always available.

While tiles of single point might not go far in Scrabble, we shouldn't be smug when we get the ten-pointers either. For they are only valuable when they are placed on the board. If they remain in our rack when one of the opponents has emptied their rack, it's a double blow to us. So knowing when to play the high value tiles is important. We must seize the moment. If we decide to let go of the opportunity that presents itself, the next one might never arrive. It's not always easy and at times, for the sake of avoiding an eventual heart break, we might have to settle for second best, for the best might not exist - if that is the case, while we think we are settling for second best, we are actually choosing the best. As in life, we'll never know.

Luck - in my opinion is the most advantageous aspect to have playing Scrabble. We can have the widest vocabulary in the world, but if we don't have the right tiles, and there is no place to put our tiles on the board, it is worthless. We always need a little bit of luck. But Scrabble is not just a game about vocabulary.

We approach a game of Scrabble like we approach the challenges of life - with a right strategy and plenty of patience. Want to play an open game? Put every word perpendicular to the words on the board. Want to play it tight? Stack the tiles on top of another word on the board. Stronger opponent? Play it safe. Weaker opponent? Be adventurous, but be cautious still. Lagging behind? Try to keep pace, the right tiles could appear at the right time in our rack and on the board. Leading? It's never too cautious to keep a watchful eye. The right strategy needs to be coupled with patience. During execution of the strategy, patience will keep the unwanted emotions in check and maintain a cool head under any situation in a challenge.

And as in life, we don't always play to win in Scrabble ... err ... Actually, in that sense, Scrabble is nothing like life. And we only tell ourselves we play for the sake of learning and winning is not important when the other guy is leading by 100+ points and there are only less than 6 tiles left.


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