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.
