Self-love

"He had learned from the first Book of Zoroaster, that Self-love is like a Bladder full blown, which when once prick'd, discharges a kind of petty tempest."
--- From Zadig/Or, The Book of Fate by Voltaire

Self-love, Conceit, Narcissism, Egotism, Pride, I have an excess of it all, whatever its form, however it clothes itself. If one could build a self-concept upon love of the identity itself, I have probably already done so. I, not surprisingly, have an incredible relationship with my ego. Many have tried to pry us apart to little avail; my mother, the church, god and my various setbacks being the most prominent assailants. The beast though, is like a hardy Mesquite tree, its roots spread far and reach deep, ensuring sustenance even in the most arid of conditions.

It is a greedy, hardy creature. To safeguard itself, it has erected wall upon wall around the softer parts of me, denying connection in the name of protection. In preventing risk and harm, it also keeps out reward and reciprocation. The beast is petty indeed, look at it clutching its little possessions to its chest, building a fortress, terrified of intruders, for fear that it might just have to share.

Aphotic Rendezvous

I found this quote on dictionary.com

"I sat curled up on the sofa, trapped in the dream from which I had begun to awaken, but still lost in the reminiscence of our aphotic rendezvous."
-- Žakalin Nežić, Goodbye Serbia

Firstly, I feel like I have to read Goodbye Serbia now. Secondly, I cannot help but wonder how an "aphotic rendezvous" would feel. Better yet, I wonder if I have already experienced the likes of it.

On a side note, there was a line on Gossip Girl the other day that had me chuckling. (I know... Gossip Girl... forgive my simple pleasures)

Diana: "I am a woman who has lived, of course I have secrets."

Parting with Dignity

One would think that after all the partings that I have had to participate in, I would be way better at managing them now. I have a set of rules that allow me to keep a dignified face when saying goodbye. (At least I am deluded enough to imagine I can keep to them.)

1) Never grasp at straws, or if another analogy is preferred, do not indulge in the last breath before death. (Extra time is useless, it just prolongs what is inevitably going to happen.)

2) Always acknowledge to the other person that you might see each other again, whilst silently repeating to yourself that the world is small, but it isn't that small. (Kill all hope.)

3) Try to stay away from parting situations near transportation. It always feels too final and desperate. Always say goodbye several hours before, so that you can experience all the building anxiety safely away from the person that is leaving. (Do not build on what is already unpleasant.)

Identity Foreclosed

James Marcia, a developmental psychologist came up with a theory called the Identity Status Theory.

In it, he claims that there are 4 identity statuses of psychological identity development. These are determined largely by the choices and commitments made regarding certain personal and social traits.

Identity achieved: Refers to when one has gone through crisis and made a commitment to their final decision/identity.
Identity foreclosed: Refers to when one has not gone through any crisis, but made a commitment to their final decision/identity.
Moratorium: Refers to a state of crisis where the individual has not committed to anything as yet.
Identity Diffused: Refers to a lack of crisis and lack of commitment to any form of decision/identity.

I feel like most of the decisions that I have made about my life are made by commitment without crisis. I fear the crisis and the struggle so much, that I tend to reject moratorium and instead make a commitment to the nearest and most feasible possibility to alleviate my uncomfortable state of mind.

Using the apt phrasing of someone I know - I make decisions based on convenience. It is convenient for me to pursue a path in clinical psychology, it was convenient for me to take the STB scholarship instead of researching and applying for more alternatives. It was convenient for me to only date people that would eventually be on another continent. (no mess) It is convenient for me to stay on at City Harvest, despite my objections.

This is all very out of character for me because I have been someone that prided myself on always being in crisis, thinking hard and caring about the decisions that I eventually make. Now, I am starting to realise that I only struggle for the shortest of times, then, without coming to any resolutions about anything, decide on commitment. When there is an easy way out, I take it... and then convince myself and everyone around me that I have thought long and hard about it.

Foreclosure is not a stable identity stage because resolution without crisis, is all too easily challenged with a few piercing thoughts and doubts.

I am terrified though, of never getting out of moratorium. There just seem to be some decisions in life that one can never find a satisfying answer for.

Fire Alarms

My building's fire alarm system has been acting out. Every time the fire alarm goes off, I find myself having the same thought process.

"I wonder if this time its real, maybe I should at least get out of bed/my chair to check it out. Mmmm... do I smell smoke? I don't smell smoke. I don't hear people panicking... I wonder if today is the day I die due to my laziness."

I blame the incessant fire drills that us Singaporean kids were subjected to. Instead of conditioning us with regards to what to do during a fire, they conditioned us to believe that the fire alarm is not a signal of fire, but instead of a set of annoying procedures to follow.

The beauty of relatable literature

I was browsing through some of my Kindle clippings, looking for a particularly good paragraph that I found the other day, when I had a moment of abashed self awareness.

I realised that there was this common thread running through most of the passages that struck me with their beauty and/or truth. They were all related to the most ruminated on and rehashed issues of a young adult's life - the prioritizing of ambition or love, the fulfillment of life's potential, the search for a home and what it means. I don't think these passages have helped me come to any sort of reconciliation or revelation. However, there is a wry kind of sweetness that fills my heart when I think about my participation in this communal cognitive rite of passage.
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That was her trouble then - She dreamed of a greater kind of love than the kind displayed in the library. But she was also filled with a nameless ambition that had nothing to do with love. What exactly did she want? It was an ambition that wouldn't let her compete for or seek the same things others sought.
- Cutting for Stone by Abraham Verghese


The intellect of man is forced to choose
perfection of the life, or of the work, 
And if it take the second must refuse
A heavenly mansion, raging in the dark.
When all that story's finished, what's the news?
In luck or out the toil has left its mark:
That old perplexity an empty purse,
Or the day's vanity, the night's remorse.
- The Choice by Yeats


Droll thing life is, that mysterious arrangement of merciless logic for a futile purpose. The most you can hope from it is some knowledge of yourself that comes too late, a crop of unextinguishable regrets.
- Heart of Darkness by Joseph Conrad


I wished to know the meaning of things. I am the meaning. I wished to find a warrant for being. I need no warrant for being, and no word of sanction upon my being. I am the warrant and sanction... It is my mind which thinks, and the judgment of my mind is the only searchlight that can find the truth... Many words have been granted me, and some are wise, and some are false, but only three are holy: "I will it!" Whatever road I take, the guiding star is within me... I know not if this earth on which I stand on is but a speck of dust lost in eternity. I know not and I care not.
- Anthem by Ayn Rand

Wasn't that the definition of home? Not where you are from, but where you are wanted?

- Cutting for Stone by Abraham Verghese

This one is not from a book, but a movie, nevertheless, I think it fits in here. From Garden State -
Andrew: You know that point in your life when you realize the house you grew up in isn't really your home anymore? All of a sudden even though you have some place where you put your shit, that idea of home is gone.
Sam: I still feel at home in my house.
Andrew: You'll see one day when you move out it just sort of happens one day and it's gone. You feel like you can never get it back. It's like you feel homesick for a place that doesn't even exist. Maybe it's like this rite of passage, you know. You won't ever have this feeling again until you create a new idea of home for yourself, you know, for your kids, for the family you start, it's like a cycle or something. I don't know, but I miss the idea of it, you know. Maybe that's all family really is. A group of people that miss the same imaginary place.
Sam: Maybe

The wind in Shanghai

I don't think I can ever fully articulate the kind of connection that I have with Shanghai. It is as if it made a slit in the skin between my ribs, slid in there, and is now living comfortably with the rest of my viscera. Once in a while, when it is afraid that I would forget its existence, it prods at my insides, jostling them, so as to stir up the old dust.

My memories of Shanghai have haunted me in so many different ways that I am starting to lose count. They have appeared in the form of my favorite streets, in a palpable tingle of the memory of a hug, in the image of someone's brown and orange gloves, in the glistening grains of fried rice nestled within a styrofoam box, and most recently, the chilly wind of the Shanghai night.

- I would be standing on the main passage in wanda facing guoding lu, flanked on one side by burger king and the other by that shop that sold the leather belts and shoes. Behind me, the glass protrusion that signaled an escalator down into the mall. Always, it is night and there is a chill. The tone of the night feels like autumn, but I'm sure it is spring. Sometimes I'm standing with G, and it is the night M texted me about getting into Med school. I remember that night, there was something heady in the air. Other times, I am just standing there alone, looking out into guoding lu. The wind, it always blows.

Bullsh**

Contradictions. Of late, within the personal domain, I have been excusing inconsistencies in myself and the people around me with the two words "human nature". I do understand and accept that human beings are mostly irrational and unpredictable creatures.  After all, who better than a psychology student to point out the fallibility of human reasoning. This particular trait is not conscious or intentional on our part. Our minds are just masters of wrongful attribution, memory tweaking and delusion. These actually help us maintain our self-esteems and decent mental health.

I however, am starting to get fed up with such ridiculousness. As we get older, it just seems as if everything can be explained away by admitting human fallibility, it has actually become the mature and scientific point of view. Inconsistencies in speech and thought now seem to be fully excusable and understandable. Honestly, it drives me crazy. Inconsistencies in people make me mad. Consistency should be a trait that we should strive for. The existence of consistency makes us accountable to at least a semblance of reason. It makes a person more predictable and dependable. If we all get to change our minds and our actions whenever we want, there would be absolute chaos. No one can be trusted to keep to their word, every comment or sentence that comes out of our minds would only hold for that particular second and situation.

I know I am catastrophizing here... but I kinda just want to hear something that someone says about their personal life and trust that it is not going to be bullshit in a month or two.

Becoming genuine

I am always trying to reach my ideal self. In an ideal world, Alison would...

1) Be more spiritual

2) Be more disciplined (With regards to my academics, responsibilities and  jogging)

3) Be more kind and in touch with other people

4) Be hotter - body wise (Yes it is an overlap with the ideal self)

5) Have a resume that would melt potential employers and future school admission officers hearts.

I try to get to my ideal self by forcing myself to do things that I don't particularly enjoy. I thought that if I did it for long enough, I would be able to cultivate the habit and eventually enjoy it. Slowly, everything became duty and obligation... not to anyone else or any organization, but to my ideal self.

I think after my episode of severe burnout a month ago, I had to reach deeper within myself than I normally would. I have been trying to figure out what truly brings me enjoyment, not some far-fetched notion of future happiness, but pleasure in the here and now.

I am now in the process of re-examining my relationships, and I guess I am realizing that if I have to write the names of some people on a list to remember to keep in contact with them, maybe it is saying something about my feelings toward them. If I am cringing as I write another cover letter about the person that I supposedly am, or the activities that I supposedly like, or the values that I supposedly hold, maybe that is saying something about who I want to be as well.

I won't deny that it is very difficult for me to accept and even endorse my own feelings and needs, especially when concerning my professional ideal self. However it is time I try be a little more genuine. After all, I do believe that if I am doing something that I really like, I would excel at it.

Camps

I've been forced to go to 2 camps in the past 6 months. Honestly, that is too much for a normal human being of my age. I spent 4 years of my life digging holes in the ground and collecting sticks for fire. Nowadays, I just want to sleep in a real bed. But no, they want me to sleep on the ground, to pee in the bushes, to learn about leadership and teamwork. Don't get me wrong, I love nature... it is the communal aspect of camp that scares me the most. They keep wanting me to TALK to SHARE to OPEN UP. The most recent camp even forced me to write a reflection paper on what I have learnt. So here goes... watch me transform what I hate most about camp, into something to be advocated for.

Talk

Walking and talking, that is what we did. Sitting and talking, cooking and talking, helping and talking, that is what we did. For two days, we talked, and we talked, and we talked. We talked about school, about dreams, about our disappointments and our triumphs. We talked at the base of the hill, mid way up the hill and at the peak of the hill. There were many attempts by both instructors and uBuddies alike, to relate our climbing of a physical hill to the metaphorical journey of ups and downs that life is. I see the connection in the talking. On the hill as in life, we are constantly talking, constantly striving to confirm our identity in other people’s affirmations, constantly striving to build the social connections that are so fundamental to our mental health. So we talk.

From all the talking, different identities, personalities across the spectrum start taking shape. The more we talk, the more detail gets etched into our sketch in other people’s minds. We start filling out, becoming multi-dimensional, our bodies swelling with words. Through talking, we exist, we become real.

When we talk, we gain new understanding into our experiences, our hurts, and our carefully nursed wounds. Talking helps us re-organize the information in our minds. Talking opens closed doors and creates a path for revival. When we talk and others listen, it feels undeniably good.

Therein lies the secret behind a caring campus – the power of talking. Talking is therapeutic, and it establishes connections with others. So, uBuddies talk. We talk to reach out, to help, to change. We talk to the school body via e-mails, we talk via signboards, and we talk with mouths, our hands and our hearts. Most importantly, uBuddies listen to other people talk, because we know the power behind speech. So we talk.

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My duplicity and ability to conform never cease to amaze me.