Loneliness is just an emotion

I remember in one of the best yoga classes I had back home, Bo mentioned how the feeling of loneliness is just an emotion. Not too different from feeling happy or sad or angry, the sensations that come and go.

Perhaps I'm an extrovert in denial. Because I actually do love hanging out with people. Perhaps I didn't use to have the 'skills' of being at ease in the presence of others. These days, getting to hang out with people of similar interests, having more than just superficial conversations actually makes me feel very energized. We are after all social beings, ikke san.

On the streets of Paris, there are many homeless people. I'm not so sure in terms of numbers, but there are certainly more who would come up to you and ask for money. And still, maybe not me, but my French friends -- since I'm after all Chinoise #haha. Despite the french arrogance, the people are generally polite and do appear sorry for those who would ask.

I did not give. I would give to the buskers who create wonderful music on trains, I would be more generous with the free tour guides. But I haven't given to those who would ask with nothing in return. Maybe someday I will. I am at least a better version of myself now than before when I would instinctively conclude that someone who asks should really go find himself a job instead. I'm starting to understand that there are people who are seriously marginalised -- who have no other means. I have grown up in a city where the needy are well tucked into spaces where I do not see. And I'm raised by very strong parents who were poor before and they have ingrained in me since I have my own conscience that everyone has to work hard to live -- we work hard in school to get good grades to get a good job so we have food and shelter when we grow up. And I dedicated my first 22 years in being a good student - happy and confident when i do well, depressed and feel worthless when i didn't. I am not sure what's right or what's wrong.

More than money though, I realise there is also the need to socialize. Léo approached this blind man thinking he had lost his way. He was just knocking his guiding cane against the trash bin and looking like he's trying to walk into it or obstructed by it. Turned out he's looking for food in the bin - he's extending his hand into the bin, pick up what feels like food, bring it close to his nose to sniff a little, use his tip of tongue to test again... the thought itself was rather heartbreaking. He then took out his pack of leaf cigarettes and asked us to help him roll the cigarettes. I have watched Filip do this so many times when I join him on smoke breaks and I'm so frustrated with myself how i cant even get this simple task right. I am not sure how the blind man feels. He chatted with Léo for another 15minutes or so, he seemed happy. Léo gave me a very brief translated summary - that he was from Algeria, used to be rich and had lots of mistresses, lives in a hotel now and don't worry about him because he's lived in Paris for many many years and he knows his ways around. It's bizarre.

I like how Leéo and his cool friends are way better than me at dealing with the grey zones - with the complex mix and layers of truth and untruths and half truths. And what truly matters? What do we allow to linger and affect us for a longer time? How do we be so present and not let the present overwhelm us and take over us? How can we open up ourselves, our minds and be ready to receive yet manage actively numb these pain and unpleasant sensations in order to still remain functional? How do we come to terms with the non-conclusive? "Joyce, the world is not perfect ok." -- I cant remember who said this to me when I was too carried away with these thoughts. They say courage is not about having no fear, but not allowing fear to stop you.

I like how Maria would create a needle sun dial while in the midst of figuring how to get home as quickly as possible. I like how Esther would not stop searching for a pyjamas even though everyone is all about the party and person-in-charge is fuming over getting us out so she could lock up the place. I like how Léo is always in deep thoughts, there are a lot for him to think about and work out - but is also the person who makes me the happiest - and others too - we all agree how he can just make us laugh and laugh for no reason.

I then actually started having thoughts (I'm terrible) on my way back that the homeless people of Oslo lead much better lives.  Despite the cold, there is source of income (picking bottles) and they have a community or social group of sort, and people here are quite good at giving food... And I guess due to bad karma for having such inconsiderate thoughts, I was taken to Eidsvoll in the middle of the night - stranded - because I took the last train out from the airport the wrong direction and the next train in 4.5h time from 0500. I was pretty damn calm i must say - except the one moment when i went out of the sheltered area to check if its really that cold outside and if theres really nothing at all in the vicinity -- and almost got locked out (the sensors to open the automated doors only work from inside after certain time). That night spent outside - I text Legend of course, if I should spend maybe 500bucks (potentially) to get back to Oslo or should i just sleep out. Determined not to fuck up my budget for another trip (since 'forgeting/not knowing' that I should need visa to go to Russia), I decided to just sleep out and continue scanning my thoughts about the homeless. But this became somewhat nasty - after the initial distress and my mental state finally acknowledge the fact that I was to be homeless that night, I started imagining senarios. That sure, this is Oslo, but what if some random stranger came along, what if I get attacked out here and if I screamed and no one would hear, what if my life gets taken away that night, what if a police come by and chased me out or involved me in some other incidents... Are there cameras? Should i brush my teeth? Should I use my eye mask since the lights were so bright? I didnt sleep much and soon enough it was the first train. Im so thankful I went out quite abit in the woods/cabins and it helps me manage cold better - I always thought I am going to die once i start shivering. And I'm thankful I was with my backpack of of clothes that are supposed to last me 3 days - and i could bundle up myself ok. I remember the story how someone dropped into a canyon and broke her spine and had to keep contracting the core (like doing sit ups) to keep herself warm - i kinda did the same in my half paralysed state of fatigue and immobility from being wrapped up in too much clothes. Filip reminded me 'shelter' being one of the most basic of Maslow needs. And of course without which I would feel stressed out and insecure. If anything, the night out corrected the idea that there's such a thing as a better version of homeless.

Streptokåken

There are those mind-blowing, crazy inspiring, absolutely uplifting hikes out and there are those pretty nice, quiet, peaceful ones.

I'm especially happy on this trip to spend time with one of the most kind, beautiful, intelligent, giving humans I have ever met. 

I draw energy from amazing people and I am thankful that I have met many wonderful individuals at different stages, moments of my life when I needed the inspiration, that encouragement, the affirmation, the clarity.

I suspect it might be tiring to be that energy giver, that cheerleader that you are. I wish you will always have enough to give and meet others who are capable of replenishing and loving you enough. 

Lined with fallen leaves. Seasonalities are wonderful.

Pieced together like a collage.

Explanation. Knowledge. Curiosity. 

Cider away en-route.

Quaint. 

Crossing borders.

Walking in clouds.

Keeping warm inside the smokey wooden cabin. 

The tinderella

It was not surprising.
Because I guess I saw it coming all along.
There is a strong underlying reality that fairy tales aren't capable of denying completely.

But it was shocking.
The brutality and harshness and swiftness and decisiveness.
While I was still day-dreaming and refusing to let go.

What it takes.
Its easy to say: hey, harden up, live it up, grow up, suck it up.
But what if I just want to keep that innocence, and salvage whatever beauty that is left of it.
I don't have an ego when it comes to matters of the heart. Never mind it seems childish should i wish for a closure. Never mind if I just want to linger a bit more and insist on re-writing the awful ending.
I don't need to be taken care of, I just want this episode to become a memory that takes a form and shape that it deserves in my art work years down the road.


This makes me appreciate the Reason a lot for always treating us with firmness but so much kindness.
This makes me proud of myself, for being able to still act out of love and kindness even when perhaps I don't need to since we are all adults and battered and will handle ourselves.

But I will always be willing to let you have the last blueberry to go with your pancake.
Because you are this beautiful stranger who has moved me before.
My heart will always be fiercely loyal to that child in your eyes.

My Map Home

I have been describing my current state in Oslo as a kind of 'healthy discomfort'.

The kind of positive unease due to being displaced from my comfort zone which I know is good for me in the longer term. Or perhaps the benefits are already kicking in as I go along. Hence even though I feel a little weighed down some times, sense of contentment still dominates. Such as going for lindy hop class and having to be doubly focused in order to decipher the instructions in body language (since i dont understand norwegian) but my body still vibrates in joy once the 50s swing music comes on :) It's tiring and incomplete, but it educated me the idea of a disadvantage, an impairment, a disability and the possibilities that come with just being shameless and wing it anyhow!

I can't describe how this can be good for me in the long term. But I know the experience so far has helped me unveiled a lot about myself which I never knew about. Having the awareness is always a good starting point. From where, I chart my way to clarity.

After 5 months now of being overwhelmed by new culture, new styles, possibilities, hypocrisy, vast nature and dullness of being on my own, I feel expansive, less resistant, more imaginative, more accepting of and less disappointed about the imperfections this real world is about.

Many tears were involved in the month of October. I wish my life to be all jolly and full of positivity. But I shall not deny that there is hurt in me and some parts of me are still trying to heal. Some are old wounds which broke open. Some are new cuts over the same scars - which makes me wonder how did I allow that. I don't like the idea of numbness, because I want to cling on to the organic, raw nature of my human self. I don't want to suppress feelings and emotions, I don't want to overdose so I become desensitised, I want to come to terms with them - honestly. I know that takes time.

Life is a drama queen. There was a huge, dark, loud reason that gave me courage to leave home. I was only lucky that at the receiving end was a good job opportunity, which I have learnt to love and embrace so much by now. I'm even so proud of myself for the work I have delivered so far and I'm unaffected whether or not my bosses agree. I know I am learning new things everyday and I am on the right track - the skillset I care about building now are communication and problem-solving. I have my limitations so I know I'm also delivering more than a 100% of what I thought I can. Its the kind of situation where I would check 10/10 in an job satisfaction survey on whether i feel challenged and/or empowered enough in my job. But the joke that played out was the very Reason itself now comes chasing after and nullifying my whole point of moving away. Perhaps that's how life helps me learn about reconciling with myself. That I shouldn't allow anything or anyone else to be the reason at all for my decisions in life. Or even if I do, I should know that it can only be temporary. 

Because I am still in charge. In the dullness of my many quiet evenings, I started sensing the urge to create in a long time. In ways that can help me express, define "self". For instance, last week i was really wishing could be playing music. And Oslo World happened and blew my mind. I didn't even know its a music festival. But 4 films, 2 seminars, 1 workshop and a mini concert later, its definitely more than just a music festival. It gave me the opportunity to create art to express myself. I can't remember when was the last time I drew like a kid - probably when i still was a kid. But I was supposed to map my way home, the process was supposed to be even therapeutic. I don't know how at the start and was worried I cant draw shit. The consequence of the process though, was magical.

My earlier days. I first drew the blue music player Mommy got me when I was 12 or so, shortly after we moved to the new apartment. I remember it to be the first time ever in my life i felt life was complete - like there is nothing more that I want or need. I have everything and I feel so blessed. And I am surprised I could remember so well how the player looked like - where the Eject button is, how the speakers are shaped, i could even feel the pity i felt the day i broker the antenna. And then, i drew my orange bicycle that I cant draw, which I circled the neighbourhood with and I got myself into trouble one day with a big group of Malay neighbours. I was angry that they punched my good friend in her abdomen and i decided to throw one of their bicycles into the big sewage drain - before i realised how bad ass that was and how much trouble I got myself into. That became my biggest fear for a few days, I was so afraid of walking into those kids for a long while. I am not sure if this is also why i cannot conjure the image of my bicycle. I cannot remember if i ever knew how to draw a bicycle. Then, there's this plant which bore red flowers, around which my Dad spent most Sunday evenings busying with. And those red flowers would be his pride, and a sign of something great to happen soon. There are those cooking pots which Mum was quite fanatic about I thought, I even went with her to these exclusive cooking workshops which we get to go because we bought so many of those pots . I remember the prints at the side of the pots, how girly they are - even for the Papa pot (apart from the Mama pot and baby pot). There is a green textbook and the part of my uniform, a longer than knee length navy blue school skirt that signified my teenage-hood. The part of my life that was all about excelling in school and getting to the high school I wanted to go. I am not sure how I forgot all about my high school stage entirely and went straight to working life, when all i remembered are those MRT seats that I wished I could plonk my butts on every morning on my way to work. It turned out the centre of the 'art piece' also truly is the pivotal stage of my life which shaped many of my instinctive approach towards life. 

My life now. The facilitator came by and drew an outline around all the things I drew at this point and told me to draw life now. I remember feeling a tinge of weariness. I draw a microwave oven to represent how I have living my life off re-heated food. The black sofa is where housemates hold house parties every single weekend and blast loud music all night which I hate, but I then try to recall the nature that I love that is so accessible and how beautiful Oslo actually is. Of course there's a ship which is a huge part of my life here.

The consultation. Sitting next to me was this amazing lady from Guatamela, she looks like she's in her fifties, speaks prefect English, moved to Oslo for love and have a very infectious laugh and a very inviting presence (even for introverts like me). She looked at my art and immediately pointed out how 'its interesting' that 'my life now' is all black. Like she saw me through. She gave me her number at the end of the day and said to call her if I ever needed her. I thought if I had only used words, she probably would not have understood me so thoroughly. I thought it's kinda silly but I appreciate her love.

My realisation. I dont think I will be able to have this same conversation with myself again given a different setting, different tools, different state of mind. I watched the series Genius: Picaso and there were some ideas Picaso insisted on which I cannot really relate to. But through this process, I think I come to understand why an artwork can be so precious, that it can be very disruptive if you have to create something that you don't believe in (its like telling lies to yourself) and how its not something that is repeatable as you wish. And at the end of the session, I feel a strong sense of relief, a much clearer mind, a better recognition of self. 

Some people love me today but would leave me one day.

Doesn't matter this world so imperfect, I am my consistency.