An Unrelenting Waterfall

Last day of the month already, time rushing past like an unrelenting waterfall crashing headlong into the future. And me, a small canoe pushed along with it, falling with it...

"I should stop this daydreaming", I wrote to Matt. He agreed.
"You know," I said, "I think I'm on the highway to singlehood for life; and I'm a bit afraid to end up like that."

Matt says: Yes you are, at this rate... unfortunately
Matt says: but something must give
Matt says: it is law of nature
Why8 says: i met a Korean girl last weekend, we went to the beach together
Why8 says: i keep meeting new people, but i don't keep them
Why8 says: I told her that I feel like I don't have any homes
Why8 says: but she said, no - you have many homes
Matt says: well.....
Matt says: you have chosen this path......you must walk it .......
Matt says: irrespective of the problems that come your way...
Matt says: or you can turn back...
Why8 says: turning back is an illusion, it's a self-deception to think that I can ever go back
Why8 says: i can return to singapore, but it won't be the same anymore as I left it

"There is no real going back, there is only a going forward," I told Matt. "Even if I go to Singapore, it's a going forward, not a going back anymore. Things will never be the same as it was before I left.

"I can extrapolate from my past knowledge of Singapore to the Singapore I will face again, but it won't exactly be the same anymore. By coming here, I have changed my path forever."

Time is like a rushing waterfall, and there is no turning back the clock, no return to the time that's gone. All I have is now, and hopefully many tomorrows. July is behind me now, and I can look forward to August. It's been quite a ride, this month, and August looks like a wet and wild ride again. My life is a grand adventure, and I am truly truly thankful.

Coffee and Croissant

(Written: 29 July 2007, Sunday)
Few things in life are as pleasurable as waking up in a foreign city in Europe, with a full day of exploration before you. You shower, pack and set out. You walk along a huge street full of stylish fashion houses and some make remind you that you're in France -- names like Celio and Galerie Lafayette. You make a turn and chance upon the Palace of Justice (that's what the Europeans like to call their courthouses), and you're taken by its architecture, the details of its busts decorating its front arches.

You check your map, another turn, and you glimpse, smiling, the azure blue horizon always to your right. Aaah -- the Mediterranean. Crossing the street, you see the stalls now -- the Cours Saleya Flower Market! It looks small; you walk up a bit along the stalls and then it hits you -- this is just a small courtyard in a street full of market stalls.

"This will be hard on me" you mutter to yourself -- hard to move tear yourself away from, you're thinking. You cross the road, ignoring the stalls first -- wanting to save them for later. You'll take a look at the pebbled coastline of Nice first. You cross the road, and you see people jogging, eight young men playing beach volleyball already, a lady in bikini, reading, putting on sunblock cream. More people arrive, laying their padded beach mats on the shore, out in the sea a man swims past along the coastline -- it's 8:15am in the morning!!!

You take some photos and turn back to the market. You choose a table, and order coffee and croissant. Coffee and croissant in a Flower Market in the French Riviera, the Mediterranean just steps away -- what could be better in life, you think. More of this, you realise, you want more of this.

Sunset in Cannes

(Written: 28 July 2007, Saturday)
8:15pm. I'm sitting on my beach mat in swim trunks, both my feet covered with sand, the great Mediterranean Sea spread out before me as the small pier to my left takes on a golden hue, reflecting the setting sun.

I'ts been a long day, I arrived in Nice at 8:15am, travelled to Monaco, then as I was waiting for the train back to Nice, saw that the same train goes past Nice to Cannes. Made a quick decision to come here anyway and here I am, sitting on the sands of Cannes after a dip in the sea.

It could be the nap that I had on the way here, or the refreshing sea breeze now gently blowing, or the whoosh-whoosh-whoosh melody of the waves, but I like to think that the dip in the Mediterranean has washed away all the tension in me, all that negativity that's clung on to me lately. As I sat low in the water, only my head above, bobbing with the waves, I thought to myself with a laugh -- maybe all this salt-seawater is good for my skin. And maybe it's done just that -- washed away all the ugly barnacles.

It's beautiful here in the French Riviera. The sea, with its unbroken horizon spread before me, has always calmed me down. My mind, unable to grasp the vast infinity of the great expanse of the sea, react by sheer force of comparison to remind me how trivial and insignificant my problems are.

Munich -- as is much of Germany -- is too landlocked to visit the sea and its melody much, but the Mediterranean isn't that far away at all. Here, far away from any semblance of home, far from Kuching or Singapore or Munich, with the sand under my tummy (as I now lie down to write), I can have a moment of peace -- regardless how fleeting it may prove to be.

8.30pm already and I'm the only one nearby still in my swimming trunks. I don't want to leave. I want to lie here until the stars come out, and sleep under them tonight, the sand beneath me, the sea inches away from my feet. But I've a hotel booked and paid for already in Nice, and the last train back leaves Cannes at midnight.

I'm not sure whether I've time to return here tomorrow -- I'm not sure I'll ever again sit here on the sands of Cannes -- but this moment, I want to savour.

Two Days of Wonders

2:43am. Just finished packing for my mini Cote d'Azur adventure. At 4:30am, I'll leave my apartment for my lone walk to Isartor to catch the S-bahn to the airport, arriving there about 5:15am to check in and then have an early breakfast, then check out the free newspapers in Terminal 2 and then slowly board the plane. I love taking plane rides, they're mini-indulgences not unlike checking into a hotel, and I get to see (and often meet) lots of colourful personalities that I wouldn't ever meet otherwise.

It's end of July already, and even though it might have been just another dreary weekend in Munich, this trip has changed it all for me. It's just two days away from Munich, but I think I will come back refreshed, renewed, and reassured. It will be a reminder of the joys of this world, the wonders of fresh new discoveries and experiences, a time to bask in the romance of Old Europe once again.

A mid-year retreat for this worn-out soul, brief and yet so full of possibilities!!! The fields of lavenders, the sands of Cannes, the legends of Monte Carlo... just two days, but oh what great and wondrous two days this will be...

Hopefully a Sunny Day

11.59am. What a time to start a new blog. Outside, the neighbours are having a party, his/her friends just sang a birthday song, in English, funnily enough. I just returned from our company's summer festival, having drunk 4.5 beer bottles (Beck's) and two caipirinhas.

I had a good enough time there, the gloom lifted somewhat from the socialising with the different colleagues from all over the world -- Germans mostly of course, but then colleagues from Singapore and Malaysia as well. Even went to the dance floor to dance a bit with the students from China.

It didn't start off a good day, as I recall. Was tired out and filled with negative energy, triggers for a bout of depression. But as the day progressed, I grew more efficient, and after lunch, managed to overcome the lethargy somewhat and just focussed on the work at hand.

Met raquel again across the vast space and time, and immediately told her how silly she was to have thought that I might have blocked her over MSN Messenger. I've just been busy, I told her. Chatted with Kit as well, she's just returned to San Jose after a holiday in Malaysia -- Redang, KL and Penang. We talked about maybe meeting for Christmas in New York.

Tomorrow, or rather today -- for it is past midnight already -- another day at work, another Groundhog Day. Hoping to build on the momentum I've somewhat started today, hoping for an effective day. But I've been exhausted lately, didn't have any good sleep I figured.

Hopefully a good day, then I'm off already to Nice. Then a nice weekend. Then a visit from Trish, then my parents' visit. A reminder today, from Kit -- she was headed for a funeral, her relative had just succumbed to leukemia after a eight-month battle. A reminder to give thanks for all the blessings in my life.

I've been rather negative lately, filled with negativity, self-defeating thoughts, really. Rather ungrateful for all that I've been blessed with. Time to revel in my blessings, time to remember that I've been given so much, and I should make the most of all of it.

I will sit on the sands of Cannes come Sunday, and I hope it's a sunny day.

No Lavenders

I won't see lavenders this weekend. Not fields of them anyway. They're a nice dream but they're far away, closer to Avignon than Nice, and as this mini-adventure will be short (2 days/1 night), I won't make it to Avignon.

I'm more likely to lie in the glistening sands of Cannes than to walk in any field of lavenders. But I can write stuff so dramatic that it's funny, and yet tragic at the same time.

I'd best snap out of this trance, stop dwelling in this silly lavender-scented tulips-tinted make-believe world. Back to reality. There will be a time for romance, a time for dreams, a time for lavenders.

But enough for now, enough already.
It's time for me to work hard, to chase the goals that I've drafted out. And that requires a clear mind, a fierce determination, a fixed unwavering gaze ahead. No lavenders, no, now's not the time.

Looking for Lavenders Alone

Tulips. I told Trish about tulips in Amsterdam.
"There are tulips in Amsterdam too, in spring," I said. "I've not seen them yet.

"It's almost a year away. A year is a long long time... sometimes."

Why8 says: sometimes a year passes, and it seems that nothing has changed
Why8 says: people grow older, things lose their shiny new gleams, a house becomes dustier, just the passing of the seasons
Why8 says: but sometimes, a year passes, and a man is changed forever
Why8 says: he is no longer who he used to be, and his past is gone, lost forever
Why8 says: sometimes he wants to return to his past, he thinks about it, misses it, but there is no longer this past
Why8 says: he can return to where he comes from, but it's no longer the same place anymore
Why8 says: he has become a stranger to a land he thought familiar

It's strange how I describe myself just like that suddenly, without intending to at the beginning.

Trish replied:
Trish says: so u need to make a decision as where to grow ur roots
Tricia says: but maybe it's not the time for u yet
Tricia says: cos there are still many new things that u wanna explore out there

Why8 says: yes, but i can't explore forever, trish
Why8 says: someday, i want a home too; and living as I live now, that's not home

"Sometimes I wake up and think: wow, what a grand adventure this is, so much to learn, so much of the world to see, so many places to explore.

But sometimes I think: i can travel the world, see wonders that i never imagined existed, discover delights that nobody could ever tell me about, but i don't have someone to share it with. There are defining moments in our lifetimes when we want somebody to share it all with...

I suppose that will come.
For me, for now, I will look for lavenders alone."

Lavenders in the Fields

"It's funny," I just told Q. "Some people miss people from their past. For me, I miss somebody from my future."

"Even if I never know whether there is such a somebody somewhere," I continued. "I can look forward to it.

Maybe i will think of her this weekend in Nice, in Monaco, in Cannes, in St Tropez. Everywhere I go, I will wonder whether I will ever go there again with her.

I will take photos of where I've been so that I can show her someday where I walked, where I sat down to enjoy the scenery, the sea that I swam in, the food that I ate, the blue skies that made me happy. I will show her all the places where I missed her."

I will sit at the seaside and write her a letter about my life, about where I've been so far, about where I want to go someday, and how I hope she'll come along with me

I'll tell her that I hope I won't always go alone to Nice. That I hope she'll come with me someday, because it's so beautiful, and somethings in life are just not meant to be enjoyed alone."

Q said: "lovely!"

I went on: "and I'll say: "Please come with me someday. Please say you'll come. That would be nice." And I will sit at the seaside in the golden light of the setting sun, and hope that that's not too much to ask for -- that I will have somebody someday to go to Nice with me.

"I wonder, Q, where she is right now. I hope she's had a good day so far, and I hope she's happy about all that life has given her, and I hope she wants to go to Nice too someday. I really want to show her the lavenders in the fields.

I think she will like it."

*****
Where are you? Have you been to Nice? Do you like lavenders? I hope you do. Let's go see them someday okay?

I don't know whether I'll ever meet you, but if I do, there's so much of the world I want to show you, so much I want to share with you.

Take care, see you... someday.

A Nice Mini-Adventure

Took out my Visa and bought the airticket to Nice. After that, I forwarded the flight itinerary from Lufthansa website to myself. After typing in my Name and E-mail address, there was a box for Message/Comments. I wrote to myself:

"You're going to Nice.
You're FINALLY going to Nice.
And Monaco. And you're going alone.
Enjoy it! No, really, enjoy it!
No, really really, enjoy it!!!"

I'll miss out on New York for Christmas 2007 because I was ambivalent, hesitant, waited for too long. But it's now for sure that I am going to Nice.

As I told Carrie earlier: "i can't think of a seriously good reason not to go". I can probably summon up a list of excuses, but no good reasons.

Another mini-adventure, exactly what I need! It's a bit scary to just pack up and go like this, but how exhilarating anyway!! :)

Nice, Alone

Sipping black coffee after lunch. I'm trying out Carrie's suggestion to switch to black coffee -- sans sugar, sans milk -- just pure black coffee, in my attempt to lose 1kg per month by end of the year. Twenty cents coffee from the coffee machine; I waited for the coffee to cool somewhat then gulped it all down in one go. I just need the caffeine, I can do without the additional calories. All that swimming has yet to show any effects, I'm still at 72kg.

Woke up this morning to find that Trish isn't coming to visit anymore. She really wanted to come, especially after I told her last night that we could go to Nice and Monaco next weekend, but she couldn't get a flight back to Singapore afterwards. I'll see her later, just a week later actually. She'll fly into Frankfurt and take a train over.

Suddenly my evenings are freed up, and I started to make plans again, fill in one evening here with a swim, another there with a dinner with a colleague from Singapore. And then the weekend, next weekend. I'd set it aside originally to travel to Prague with Trish, and then last night I found that Lufthansa's offers of last minute Euro 99 airtickets have returned. This time, there were tickets to Amsterdam, Nice, Rome and Stockholm. I checked tickets to Nice, and found that I could fly there early on Sat morning and fly back Sunday evening. It would have been nice to go there with Trish, but now she's not coming.

I asked Carrie if I should go, alone.
"Just go!" she said "what's there to lose? There's always something to learn/experience. Besides u've been talking abt Nice for the longest time."

I wasn't so certain. "You know how it is, you go to a place, it's so beautiful that it makes your heart ache," I wrote back to Carrie. "And then you wish you had someone to hold close, to share the beauty, to share the memory, to share the moment."

"And then you reach out… …you reach out… …you reach out."

Nice. What will Nice be like for me?

Sipping Tea alone on a Sunday Morning

Sunday morning, 8.04am. Just woke up and washed up a bit. Sipping a cup of English Breakfast tea, sitting at my computer, typing. Feeling last night's swim all over, but mostly in my upper body. I've swam two nights consecutively, and I thought about swimming again tonight, but that may be too much, counter-productive.

It's quiet here in this apartment. The blinds are up, all four of them, trying to allow in more sunshine. Today, after weeks of fierce burning sunshine, it's dark and grey -- a morning that feels like evening. My digital thermometer tells me it's 16°C outside, a drop of almost 15° from yesterday.

Later today, there's church service at 4pm, I'll arrive early to prepare for the beamer at 3. There's a movie at Cinema at 11:00am, and although I've been meaning to watch a movie again, I might not go. There are other important things to do: read TZ-Wochenende, do my German homework, prepare for Trish's possible visit next week -- including a weekend in Prague, prepare for my parent's holidays starting with a trip to Switzerland. There're also things to prepare for the coming workweek -- iron some workshirts, switch on my laptop to mentally prepare for tomorrow.

There are enough things to do as a 30-year-old single in Munich. Of course, breakfast with friends or a loved one would be nice too, but I'll take what I have for now, and make the most of it. Sipping tea alone on a Sunday morning, contemplating the day and week ahead, can be nice too, at least for now. :)

Ultimately Worth It

Sometimes things I say or write to my friends stand out as revelations and reminders to myself. One of the old friends I wrote to again after going through old e-mails was Hern, M's brother. As we established contact again, I told him about my life now. I wrote:

"I have to learn German because i've to work with Germans everyday, and although English is the official language of the company, everyone still prefers to use German -- even when they know my German is not that strong yet. It's a challenge, sometimes it's easy to get discouraged, but anyway that's why I decided to come to Munich -- to learn something new in my life."

It's certainly easy to get discouraged -- this foreign language thing, and this is a cross I've to bear daily, a thorn in my flesh that's still unresolved. Often, when I lose sight of the bigger picture of why I came here in the first place, of where it's bringing me, the anxiety can be overwhelming, and fight-or-flight tendencies can dominate.

Those are times when I've to withdraw, take a break, and remember that despite all I've gone through so far, and all I've to go through now, I am living my dream to live and work overseas, and I am enjoying this beautiful continent of Europe. It's tough for sure -- this path less taken, and it takes much much courage and strength, and endurance and persistence and patience and hard work -- much more than I often believe I have, but in the grander scheme of things, ultimately, it's worth it.

Missing Not Being Alone

Monday was coming to an end. I'd just send Trish and Jess to the Hauptbanhof. After their ICE train left on time at 17:56, I came home, took a shower and switched on my PC. A surprise --raquel was online.

raquel says: how are you today?
Why8 says: i had visitors
Why8 says: i took the day off to show them munich
raquel says: that's lovely
Why8 says: and they've just left
Why8 says: they arrived in munich last night
Why8 says: and now they've left

We'd gone to the English Garden, sat done by the creek, and dangled our feet into the cold rushing water, watched dogs (and a pony) jumping in.

"I miss not being alone," I told raquel later.
"It's a sad hollow sound they leave behind," I wrote, "a sad hollow sound."

The Paradoxical Pursuit of Love

Had dinner with SweeS on Friday evening, a long dinner. After work, I'd dropped by Giesing's Tengelmann to grab a bagful of groceries just before the 8pm closing time before rushing home to drop my laptop and shopping bag. Met SweeS at Sendlinger Tor, and walked with her to Faun. It was a short but very pleasant walk. We waited around outside Faun for a bit for an outdoor table, then ordered two Rußen.

It was Friday night, the sunshine was comfortably warm and people were out with their sunshades, looking relaxed and fashionable. We talked again about work, the people we knew, the changes in their lives, and once again we talked about our own lives -- our lives now, the life of a foreigner in this foreign land, and our aspirations for the future.

We talked less about about careers this time, and more about love. SweeS told me why she's still single after all this while, how she did not feel incomplete, and how she sees herself in the future. She's thinking maybe it'd be nice to have a partner; as for children, she'd adopt if she wants to be a mother. It was now the second time that we'd been talking at this level, so I felt more bold to tell her what I thought.

"You're not open to love," I told her. "You don't mix around enough, and you're not meeting new people".

"There's no way to be more open," she countered. "All the people I know who've finally found a partner never planned nor worked for it. They just meet someone -- at work, in church, on the streets. There's no way to plan or strive for such things".

That night, I came home from that dinner deep in thought. I've been rather instrospective like that lately. Is it really as she said -- love is something that happens to you, and you can't go out looking for love? I consulted the Internet.

A certain Dr. Martin Gallatin wrote in his obscure book How to Be Married One Year From Today: "If you don't look for love, you are not likely to find it."

Hmm. Looking for love. Shopping for love. Lots of people around me who've been doing that, the ladies more than the guys. Highly understandable - especially those who'd like to have their own children some day, and recognise the biological deadline that Nature has set on them. Perhaps the men too -- me included -- as we face up to the fact we'd rather not have too huge age gaps with our children -- we'd like to be able to play football with the kids, so goes the saying.

I talked Oph yesterday (as I saw her one last time before she left Munich for Hongkong) about her new boyfriend. And I told her that I didn't know how it'd be for me, whether I'd ever meet someone. She said: just wait for it, and she will appear to you.

There are, I suppose, two schools of thoughts on this matter. One says we must open ourselves up to meet more people, and actively pursue love. It is a pursuit of intimacy, of enriching each other's lives -- and ultimately a pursuit of happiness. Love, as I might have written before -- is worth fighting for, worth perhaps even dying for. And as another maxim goes: failing to plan is planning to fail.

But the other school says that love is beyond the realm of things we can plan for. Love is a butterfly, very much like the butterfly of happiness as described by Nathaniel Hawthorne -- “Happiness is a butterfly, which when pursued, is always just beyond your grasp, but which, if you will sit down quietly, may alight upon you”. It's an elusive butterfly, and you never know where you will might meet it: Love just happens on you, and you cannot force it, you cannot plan for it, cannot happen to it.

(Incidentally, Google "happiness is a butterfly" and you get 2 MILLION Hits! :-O)

One school of thought tells you to actively seek it, pursue it, strive and work hard for it, the other just as firmly tells you to abandon the search, and just sit quietly by and let it happen to you if it happens to you.

I don't really want to pursue love in that way. I can't quite elucidate why right now, but it feels that to aggressively pursue it would merely clip its wings, spoil its beauty, cheapen it, even if I do snare it. But I can hope. Perhaps then, a passive sort of pursuit -- Not: desperately dating every potential girl in a frenzy of trying to suss out the right partner --and yet an active sort of waiting and hoping, praying perhaps, and of preparing myself in the hopes of one day meeting the right person.

There is, to my knowledge so far, no surefire formula for meeting the right partner or even to find love. We can hope, we can even try, but it happens when it happens if it happens. At 30½ years of age, I know a lot of things, but I still don't know love.

In Search of Mentors

"In the midst of all these thoughts, this planning process, I've found that the people around me have been grossly inadequate at guiding me along. Most of them don't know what they themselves want; others might know but they either won't tell, or don't know how to teach." ~ from Knowing What You Want (12 July 2007)

As I solicit advice from friends and colleagues, I've been looking out for mentors, and these are people who have usually been through the same situations, have had plenty of experiences in life and have given much thought to the lessons they've learnt in life. Most people are hesitant to share at first -- I can hardly blame them. Life lessons drawn from one's own experiences are very personal, and sharing them exposes oneself to the risk of criticism, ridicule and the sort.

It's not easy to ask for advice either, it also leaves one vulnerable to another's judgement. I've been receiving so many different kinds of responses when I solicit advice that I drew up a chart to categorise them.

Unwise & Unwilling There are people who won't tell, and are not very forthcoming. Some don't know themselves, it's true, and when faced with my questions, they either get very troubled by the questions themselves or they just act indifferent, and move on to other topics that interest them more. Such friends has not much impact to my learning, but even when they don't say much, their varied reactions to my questions does tell me more about them.

Wise & Unwilling There's no way to know for sure, but some people seem rather successful and they appear like they didn't get there by chance. These people know how to do it, they either won't tell or simply don't know how to tell. It'd be very presumptious of me to call them selfish, they have their reasons. I just think it's a pity that they don't share. Shih once said that wise people should share; they should not feel insecure that somebody else might learn their secrets and overtake them in the company, because by the time they learn if they're good enough, they themselves would be further ahead already.

Unwise & Willing This is the quadrant where I'd place most of my responders. At the lower end of the spectrum, there are critics -- people who don't know themselves what to do about life but criticise me anyway, cut me down with rather stinging vicious remarks, telling me how I should not be uncertain about what I want in life, how I should not live in this way and that. I wonder what motives they have to be so vicious -- perhaps they are uncomfortable with my questions and seek to feel better themselves by putting me down. The way to expose them is oftentimes to simply ask them either (1) assuming I was wrong, what should I do instead, or (2) ask them from their own experience. Here resides the hypocrites too, people who don't know what to do but they want to tell you what to do, or they tell you what to do, but won't do it themselves -- either out of lack of courage, or lack of belief in what they say.

On the higher end of the same spectrum are well-meaning friends who genuinely want to help, they're really concerned, but they don't know how to. I appreciate their attempts, and I welcome them, but I've to separate wheat from chaff.

"A leader is one who knows the way, goes the way, and shows the way" ~John C. Maxwell

Wise & Willing The final quadrant are people who know the way, and show the way. Almost always, they've also gone the way themselves, figuring it out along the way, learning by trial-and-error what works, and what doesn't. These are people who I'd love to buy dinner, and learn from their experiences, their superior ideas -- giants whose shoulders I can stand on. Some day, I hope to be a giant myself, and then I'd like to help others as they figure it all out. I'm certainly not there yet, but I'm trying the best I can, and I must not -- will not -- give up. Let's believe in the best…

Leaves over Water 2 (Ammersee)

Leaves over Water, Ammersee, Bavaria, July 2007

Christmas in New York?

Just received my weekly e-mail Newsletter from Lufthansa, and glanced through it before filing it away as is my usual routine. Nothing interesting for me, usually, but today my casual glancing caught the first sentence: "Book online now and save up to 30 % on your Christmas shopping trip to New York. Fares start at EUR 409."

Christmas shopping trip to New York. Christmas in New York. The image associations started playing: Times Square, Christmas, Sex and the City, countdown to the New Year 2008 in Manhattan, Ally McBeal (yes, despite the series being set in Seattle) walking home in the gently falling snow along the dark streets while Vonda Shepherd sing songs about loneliness and love... sounds like another first for me, another dream. Could I do it, could I really go?

The special offer is only valid till 17 July, so I've about a week to decide. Who would I go with -- would I go alone? Who would I love to go with -- Trish, Carrie? I'd really rather go with raquel, but that's an unattainable dream, at least for now. (raquel is turning into another Estella in my life.)

Financially, I'd be able to afford the ticket -- I'd have to check out accomodation prices around that time, of course, but I should be able to find something reasonable.

Watching on TV the fireworks over Hongkong on its 10th year Anniversary two weekends ago, I thought about a nice place to celebrate this year's Christmas and New Year's. London or Paris would be nice too, but I'm planning to bring my parents there in the coming few months already, and I don't want to spoil it by overstaying, over-visiting.

But Christmas in New York -- that'd be a dream indeed. And once again, I am within reach of my dream, it is so near to coming true. Will I do it? Go alone to New York to be utterly alone again for Christmas, for New Year's? Perhaps I'd meet a stranger there and fall in love. Or perhaps I'll get on the plane alone, find nobody to talk to during the long nine hour flight, touch down in New York, go to my hotel, walk the streets all alone, visit the Statue of Liberty, Boston, Empire State Building -- all alone, spend Christmas and New Year's Eve in a club or at Times Square counting down with myself, and then come back alone again... would I still go?

"utterly alone again for Christmas, but relieved and glad", I wrote on 29 November 2004 in November Rain 2004. "What's 2005 going to be like for me, I wonder. Will I find true love in a foreign land? Or will I travel the romantic sidewalk cafes of Europe alone, ever pining for that someone to share the moments with me, and ever reaching out but again finding myself utterly alone at the end of the year?" I wrote on 14 December 2004 in New Year Resolution #7.

How would this year end, I do wonder. Would it be a lonely white Christmas in New York? Would I find true love in this foreign land, or in another continent -- over in America? There's no way to know for sure, but once again, let's believe in the best. As for now, I like this dream, and I hope it'll come true...

Utilitarian Love

"Find someone who loves you more than you love him/her" -- that's apparently an old adage in love. It came to mind again today after Amy mentioned it. I e-mailed her "Placing Love First" and then she wrote:

Amy says: maybe i will get married with someone who loves me more that i love him

I was irate:

Why8 says: i don't accept that concept
Why8 says: a lot of people say the same thing
Why8 says: it's very selfish
Why8 says: the girl wants to be loved more than she loves, the guy wants to be loved more than he loves
Why8 says: everyone is trying to Win in this kind of relationship
Why8 says: it becomes a comparison, a competition
Why8 says: it becomes either Win/Lose or Lose/Win
Why8 says: I reject both
Why8 says: I choose Win/Win and only Win/Win
Why8 says: if there's any competition or comparison who loves each other more, it should only be meant to compete to love each other more, not to love each other less

Love is not receiving, it's giving. Love should not be a vehicle to gain something from somebody -- money, direction, a servant or otherwise -- or to improve one's life. That'd be utilitarian love, I told Yan later. I hope I find real, honest, true love and, as I told Amy: "either that or i'll stay single for life".

Well, those Cupids seem to have been taking a break for now. But it's okay, I need this too, this interlude. :)

Placing Love First

Tuesday, 10.23am. Cloudy day today, rainy yesterday, and the temperature's dropped below 20 degrees C. The greyish glaring lighting through the tall windows coming in to the right of my office desk's isn't great for keeping me alert and efficient. It's slow and sluggish lighting, and I'm trying to kick-start myself. This lull, this interlude, is still welcome, especially after a tiring weekend, but I'd like to be more productive.

Judy and Nic arrived at noontime last Friday, and I drove to the airport to fetch them, together with their adorable 2-year-old. We drove to my small apartment, dropped off their luggage, and went off on a tour of Andechs, Ammersee, Starnberger See, a repeat of the trip I did with Janet and her husband two months back. On Saturday, we drove to Schloss Neuschwanstein, and Garmisch-Partenkirchen. On Sunday, we drove to Koenigsee, and Salzburg, then I returned the rental car.

Yesterday, it was difficult to be efficient at work, was rather exhausted. It's been great to see them again, and it's been especially special for me to spend time with little Andreas, left alone with him for a few hours to entertain him, carrying him everywhere, keeping him entertained. It's stilled some of my great fears of having a child in the house -- it's been a great learning experience, and children are not as difficult as I'd thought. Not difficult but certainly demanding. Not really keen to give up my comfortable life right now to be at the beck and call of a small child. It's an idea that will take a while to sink in, but at least I know a bit more now what I'd be in for.

It's a silly thought of course, simply because it's so premature. But it's a thought nonetheless. Friends around me are becoming parents -- Rizal just smsed an hour ago to share the news about the birth of his firstborn -- and so it's something to think about, a role that's likely to be demanded of me in the next five to ten years of my life. Not so near yet, but not so far away.

I told Christine yesterday that I've decided that I'm not looking for marriage. It's a good reminder to myself, since thoughts of marriage and having a family has dominated too much lately as I thought about future plans. Good to take a few big leaps backwards, pull myself down a few rungs. It's a grand search for love, not for marriage or for family. The difference seems banal and miniscule, yet it's immeasurably critical. The practical repercussions could be enormous. Someone to love would be nice, and marriage and family the possible natural progression of the relationship, if it lasts. An over-focus on the marriage could leave me hung up, anxious, unable to enjoy the moment.

The end in mind, I need to remember, is after all love -- yes, yes, grand love, the earth-shattering, mountain-moving, powerfully emotional stuff-of-legends kind of love, but still love nonetheless. If it ends in marriage and a family, that'd be nice too, but those are bonuses, those are secondary -- important, but no matter what, secondary. The end in mind is NOT marriage and family, with love taking a second priority, a second place, a bonus or worse, a byproduct. It's a pitfall I must avoid, one that could afflict plenty of single 30-somethings.

And so, by that same measure, if love does NOT end in marriage and a family, that's still of secondary importance, no matter how much that sounds counter-intuitive or however much I might struggle against that. Yes, love AND marriage AND a family is a noble quest, certainly not EITHER/OR, but then love as the priority, as the ultimate quest. Marriage and family without love is NOT okay, love without marriage or family may sound incomplete, but it's still far far better than the other way around.

It's some kind of relief to remember again that at the end, it's all goes back to love. And love, no matter how much I've been through already, is still virtually effortless, and is still ultimately a worthy enriching fulfilling pursuit. I like to believe that, I choose to believe that, I still believe that... :)

A Pleasant Interlude

I need a coffee. It's dark and gloomy outside again, with clouds so heavy they weigh down on the man standing beneath and gazing up at them. I've been rather pacified since last weekend -- been doing things in a more disciplined manner: working on my homework from Deutsch class, going for my 1.5km swim after class on Tuesday evening, filed away or thrashed most of my postal mail on Monday evening, and even at work, I've become more productive -- setting aside blocks of time on my Microsoft Outlook Calendar to just focus on my task at hand, instead of reacting to every small distraction.

After the swim on Tuesday, on the way home, I stayed on the U-bahn past my stop and went to the Hauptbanhof bookstores to browse magazines. I found the one I was searching for -- the Deutsch Perfekt magazine, an addition to my arsenal to improve my Deutsch. At the store, I found on sale the latest edition of Monocle whose feature article was the Top 20 Most Liveable City in the World. Seeing as Munich has been ranked World No. 1 Most Liveable City, and the magazine looked more like a huge format book than a magazine, I thought it worth the €12 cover price.


Today, once again a repeat of Tuesday -- German lessons from 5:30pm till 7:00pm, then leaving for a swim -- I'll limit myself to 1km today though, so as not to exhaust myself, and if I finish early, I might go sit in the whirlpool for a while. Everything seemed somewhat similar to Tuesday, even the weather is bound to be just as rainy, but I am not restlessly and desperately bored as I normally am when things fall into such a routine.

Perhaps, it's the swimming. The swim's left me physically more relaxed, the whole physical being a bundle of tiny invisible muscles and fibres that have been exerted this way and that, and now rests in a slightly achy yet distended state. It feels somewhat more fluid, the muscles feel like they're growing. There's the endorphine fix too, I suppose, but I think I've managed to wring out the too much nervous energy - as I wrote to Yan this morning.

Days like this makes it easy for me to enjoy being alone, going for my solitary swims, spending time studying my German, going occasionally for dinner with friends, getting absorbed in interesting magazines and books -- activities that are quite enjoyable alone, and perhaps less so when there's someone else to care after.

The loneliness will return, for sure, and I will long again for a princess to romance. But for now at least, I can enjoy this pleasant interlude -- to rest, recover, to grow again, and just feel like everything's pretty much the way it should be right now. :)

Window (Venice)

Window, Venice; April 2007

Permanently Temporary

Woke up this morning, and phoned Trish, Carrie and raquel, all in succession. I told Trish and Carrie about the passing friends, about Yan and Simon, about the other friends who are coming to visit, and those who are leaving soon. raquel said she liked the changes, and I said they're rather refreshing at times, but it can be rather lonely too.

And I searched for a piece I once wrote titled "Vagrant and Vagabond" to share with her. Turned out it was written almost exactly 3 years ago, back in Singapore, 30th June 2004. So much has happened since then, but I'm still very much alone. As I lay in bed after I switched off the lights last night, I thought about how it would all change for me if I stopped living alone, if I had someone to fall asleep next to every night and someone to wake up to every morning.

No matter how much I long for such deep committed love, that kind of life would take some getting used to. I've been alone for a long time now, and my life has been always temporary -- permanently temporary, as I told Carrie. Who knows where I'll be two years from now? It could be in Singapore, it could be in Munich, it could be somewhere that I could not even imagine now. It's a hallmark that I've borne for half my life now, and there are no indications that that will change anytime soon.

And so, Mr Vagrant or Mr Vagabond, Mr Permanently Temporary, what will you do? Where will you go from here, what's next? :) I don't know, but hey, at least it's not boring or dull, right. So many possibilities, so many diverging pathways into the future, so full of adventure and wonders waiting to happen. It's not something to whine over, my friend, and besides, we don't have time for whining. This is the path you've chosen to walk, so let's accept it for what it is, and more than that, let's embrace it. It's not a bad path, and yes, you may have pangs of loneliness, moments of sadness, but it's also given you all that you have now, and look around you -- see the blessings that you've been given, and be thankful.

Yes, yes -- it's permanently temporary -- but what a grand adventure anyway. :)

Let's dance

A song for this 1/2 of the year:

Tell me who
Wants to look back on their youth and wonder
Where those years have gone

And when you get the choice to sit it out or dance
I hope you dance...

2007.5

11:19pm now, the final hour of the first half of 2007. The moon was a bright yellow, fully round disc low in the sky surrounded by a halo glow that made it look like an Ikea night lamp that somebody'd hung up above the building tops and turned on. 11:21pm now.

I'd wanted to reflect on what I've achieved so far (or not) in the first half of 2007, and map out some of the things I want to achieve in the next. The most recent events come to mind: Yan left last night back to Singapore, and Simon and his engineers left tonight. Carrie turned 31 in Singapore, and in under one week, my mother will retire from her teaching job for good.

As I walked home from the small laundrette across the Isar, I thought about how all Yan and Simon and all the others were in Munich for some time, and then they return to their regular life, their home in Singapore. But for me, there is nowhere to return to, this is what I get, this is my home. This is my regular life, and it's a patchwork of passing friends, who come in and out of my life, coming to Munich mainly for business trips -- and our paths in life converging for a week or two (or three months in the case of Yan), and we walk together for a while, and then they leave again, leaving a gap in my life. And then the next friend(s) comes along to share my life for a while, in this great cosmic dance where I am forced to switch partners ever so often.

And then I thought of my single life. On one hand, I just became unattached to Ash just under 3 months ago. On the other hand, I've actually been alone for much longer -- since Ash left Munich 19 months ago, and if I go back much further, I've actually been living alone since I left Malaysia 15 years ago. And so it's no wonder, really, that I've been a rather lonely person all this while. No wonder.

So another 1/2 year is gone. People miss it -- this 1/2 year milestone. Blink and you'll miss it -- it feels like just another new day, another new month perhaps, but there's a much bigger significance to it actually. It means that there's only 1/2 year left to achieve what I want to achieve in this year. It means that 1/2 years has gone, and if I've not done much this year, I'd better buck up and realise how fast time is passing me by. It means there's a chance to do something about my life before it's too late. *sigh* And it means from this point on, I would be closer to my 31st birthday than my 30th.

11:44pm now. Earlier today, I smsed Carrie at the stroke of midnight, Singapore time: "Dearest Carrie, Blessed blessed Birthday! This year, may He hold back no good thing from you and may your days be full of songs of joy. Wishing you blue skies, sunshine and love. :)" She replied: "I'm rooting for love! Thanks :)"

It's been an amazing first half -- a first half marked by long lone night walks all over the world, long driving trips, manically hosting many different friends in Munich either on business trips or holidays, and bookended somehow by my closure with Ash at the beginning, and a 2nd (albeit different) closure with raquel at the end.

For the second half of 2007, I'm not sure I'll root for love like Carrie, but I'll pray for a better me. It'll be a great grand adventure anyway it goes, I can feel it. 11:53pm. It will be okay, Adrian. And for you, my friend, I wish the best 2nd half year of your life ever. Let's believe in the best...