Showing posts with label HK. Show all posts
Showing posts with label HK. Show all posts

Sunday, 4 August 2013

31 July 2013

It is safe to say that I am in a new stage of my life. I am re-thinking the priorities in my life, and learning more about what I can handle.

As with most young adults, I have had a number of turning points in my life. The first time Brandon recognised the potential of my sulky underachieving teenage butt and gave me a leadership position, the time I decided that I had to get a scholarship to go overseas, becoming head girl guide, joining NYAA and subsequently PAYM, meeting Ken and Oliver in Russia - people that became great mentors and motivators in my life, getting the STB scholarship and going to China when I was 18, meeting amazing people like Gerald that helped me realise that I can pave my way in life without leaning on the government, breaking my bond, coming to HK, and now...

31 July 2013

I would like to forever remember this date. I see it as the cumulation of all the turning points of my life. On the 31st of July, I moved out of my college dorm and my cushy scholarship padded life into the real world. 

With all my possessions in HK, I stepped into a dimly lit, green living room. Straight ahead of me, was a cluttered table with two computers on it and two green chairs jostling for space next to it. Deeper into the corridor two wardrobes blocked the entrances of the toilet and kitchen. On my left, a tower of filled plastic boxes, three luggages and wooden planks leaning haphazardly against the wall. On my right, a bunk bed with curtains sticking out, the narrowest passage way and two mismatched wardrobes. Like confetti, the floor was littered with cable ties, plastic wrappers and tools. I look ahead to see my landlord in the midst of all the crap, telling me that the wardrobe has not arrived, and he has not built the bed yet. A sinking feeling started making itself known in the pit of my stomach as I gazed around the cramped living room and realised that where my bunk bed was supposed to be, there was already another against the wall.

“Cody, where is my bed going to be?” “Here, right here!” He motions to the area perpendicular to the other bed. “How is it going to fit? The bed is too long.” “No, no it’s fine, it will fit, don’t worry!”… (I went back that afternoon to see my bed sticking out into the corridor, partially blocking the way to the kitchen and bathroom)

That night during dinner at Ikea with JY and Cindy, still unsure if my bed is even built, we started talking about the honors results released that morning. JY and Cindy were despairing about their honors, and I suddenly had an epiphany. Sure, I got a first class. It was all that I had ever wanted for the past three years; I worked my butt off for it, obsessed over it and thought that it would change my life. There I was, sitting in Ikea with two of my friends who didn’t get first class honors, but had their own rooms to live in. I finally understood what all the big shots meant when they said that university merely gives you a piece of paper. It was quite bittersweet to realise that at the end of the day, all that I valued, did not seem to matter in a world that uses a currency I don't quite have enough of.

To cut an unnecessarily long story short, by the end of the night, I found myself in my new home. Three bunk beds, three wardrobes squeezed in a living room that was HK sized. Whenever I needed to walk anywhere in the house, I had to turn sideways and crabwalk. At least everyone is nice; there is a lot of waiting at junctions for someone to crabwalk out before one crabwalks in. I slept the first night without curtains on my bunk bed and no earplugs.

Okay, I exaggerated when I said that I “slept”. Woke up the next morning, skyped Jason and started crying as I talked. I was overwhelmed, my nerves rubbed raw and generally depressed.

Four nights in, I have pretty much adapted to the place. I set up a system in my bunk bed with areas for hanging my ear plugs and eye mask, electrical cords extend to my bed, a hanging lamp, I’ve got a curtain, and I am even getting used to the swaying motion of my bed as people bump into it on the way in/out of the kitchen/bathroom area. I have even managed to do work in my bed during the last two nights. For now, the new bed is called “THE BAT CAVE”.


I think I will be all right.

Friday, 9 November 2012

Uncovering my "Grund"

From Milan Kundera's Immortality -

"In all languages derived from Latin, the word "reason" (ratio, raison, ragione) has a double meaning: first, it designates the ability to think, and only second, the cause. Therefore reason in the sense of a cause is always understood as something rational. A reason the rationality of which is not transparent would seem to be incapable of causing an effect. But in German, a reason in the sense of a cause is called Grund, a word having nothing to do with the Latin ratio and originally meaning "soil" and later "basis". From the viewpoint of the Latin ratio, the girl's behavior sitting down on a highway, seems absurd, inappropriate, irrational, and yet it has its reason, its basis, its ground, Grund. Such a Grund is inscribed deep in all of us, it is the ever-present cause of our actions, it is the soil from which our fate grows."

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I spent the last 2 weeks manically flinging myself from one decision to another. Grasping at any possible reason to justify my latest fixation. I was caught up in a spiral of anxiety, self-doubt and longing. Most of my nights cumulated in me either sprawled on my bed overwhelmed, or crying helplessly in front of the computer, all whilst cramming abnormal psychology diagnostic criteria into my head. I bounced from professors' offices, to bewildered friends, and to my loving parents, desperately seeking validation and guidance. With each conversation, I felt myself steered in a different direction. My mind was crippled with self-doubt fostered by my persistent insecurities, and opinions given by a multitude of people.

My spirit was breaking. One conversation in particular dealt a huge blow. Last friday, I had a 2 hour consultation with my thesis professor. When I consulted him about a possible PhD, he looked me straight in the eye, and told me that I was at the emotional maturity of my peers, and that I need more time to develop. Decoded - it means you are average, please reconsider your attempt to join the best. His words hurt. The only thing that kept me together was the knowledge that he was a man who has never seen any of my work and had previously only had one conversation with me. I am deeply humbled by the realisation that I am not ready. Hurt feelings aside, he had a point - if I want to be in that 5% that gets into a clinical psychology PhD program, I need to take more time to get properly prepared. I believe that I have the ability, now I just need to get in shape.

Coming out of that emotional whirlpool, I must confess that I have lost faith in my ability to discern the desires of my heart. I don't know where I want to go, I only know what I want to do. Even within the category of what I want to do, I am unable to truly pinpoint my research interest. After deciding on, and later abandoning a whole spectrum of possible paths, I realised that I can come up with a dozen great sounding reasons for any decision. Rationality is not going to help me choose, it is just going to justify a whole host of ever increasing possibilities.

Inspired by Kundera, I decided to abandon the rational approach and delve within my consciousness for something more basic, grounded, in his words - the soil from which my fate grows. I used intrinsic joy and the instances when my mind lit up - as ropes to draw me into my history and my future. Following the subtle tugs of the ropes, I am starting to listen to myself.

I have learnt that I am a consistent human being that is often lost in my mind's temporal fixations. The grand themes of my life have remained unchanged, and I rejoice that I am starting to uncover them. So far, I have come to two realisations.

1) I love the mind. Thoughts, feelings and behavior, they all stem from it. I love the biology of the brain. The marvel of how the decision of whether to fire or not fire - of approximately 100 billion neurons with 1000 connections with other neurons - leads to potential states numbering approximately 10 to the millionth power. Those connections, they make up our consciousness. I love brain anatomy; I think it stems from my love of jargon and big words.

2) I yearn to belong to the world. I love Singapore; I love with it a passion that burns brighter each time I return. Singapore is so beautiful, it is so efficient and special. There really is no where else on earth like Singapore. As much as I love it though, I have always been more at peace with being an anonymous stranger on a foreign street than a Singaporean, in Singapore. Perhaps I will settle in Singapore one day, but for now, I want to be out there. I have lived in 3 major asian cities; Singapore, Shanghai and Hong Kong. I think its time to move out of Asia.

My desires intimidate me. However, I take comfort in the saying below.





Wednesday, 3 November 2010

First Halloween in HK

Halloween coloured hair

LKF - Halloween

Afro trio

Call this the "Afro Trio"

Little kid

Little kid amongst the drunken revelry