To The Limits

Have you ever hit these barriers? My passenger had asked as we passed a toll gate.

That brought me back to one fine day some years ago when I decided to test how fast I could go without hitting, that is, to be just in time to reach the barrier as it opens. I never found out how fast I was going; was too shocked when we actually hit it. Fortunately, they have designed the barrier to open outwards as the bonnet touched it. We didn’t stop laughing until long after we left the place.

I have pushed many things to the limits.

I have pushed my boss to the limits. I kept defying him - for what I believed was right for the company - until he bullied me into submission. It’s been more than a year now, a difficult year trying to re-establish the broken trust. Neither has apologised. But things are looking up. If my promotion is of any indication, then I must have done something right. Even if the promotion is done to get me out of his hair, I am having the last laugh...at least until the next crisis.

Did I push my relationships to the limits? That may just be true. But I'm done examining the past.

I'm pushing my wheels to the limits. Deep Purple's Speed King on the stereo, I have time and again gone past the speed limits. In fact it’s more like I hardly ever drive within the speed limits. It still amazes me that after 3 years, I haven’t had a single ticket on this car. I do sometimes imagine getting hurt or even killed in a crash. Who knows, I may get careless when tired; for that matter, I may adhere to all the traffic rules, but other road users may get careless...

A friend just loves listening to my adventures of the heart. She would then caution me, "I just love you too much darling. Stay cautious...I don’t want you to get hurt". But dear, we get hurt all the time and we bounce back every time. We shouldn’t let that fear gets in the way of living.

Another enjoys stories of my outdoors adventure. When he heard of my plans for Nepal, he would say, "Why do you have to go to all these places?" "How do I know you will be safe?" "You could get hurt or killed!" And I'd say, I could die falling off the stairs. Should I then avoid using the staircase?

I am not suicidal. Speed doesn't kill. It’s like jumping off a plane doesn't kill you. It’s hitting the ground that does the job.

I am living my life, sometimes pushing it to the limits...but I do try to carry with me a parachute when I can...

Intern

I have served in a few large corporations through my working life. During those tenures, I had my fair share of supervising interns, be they local or foreign kids.

I observed that in general, they start off rather timid, unsure of themselves. Towards the end of their 8-12 weeks or so, you can see that they have grown in confidence as well as in their network among staff. Most try their best not to step on anyones toes, towing the line, even when the line appears crooked. Some staff members would enjoy bullying those poor souls who are more or less stuck for the duration of the internship.

Against that background and experience, its refreshing to listen to one intern (in another company) who described how she had told off her supervisor who was being rude, not just to her, but others as well.

This supervisor brags about having worked in the company for 29 years. He probably thinks that it gives him the right to be abusive towards all others who have served less time.

The young woman was one week into her internship when he was upset with her over something. The supervisor wasted no time to grab his chance to show who's boss. He raised his voice at her in plain view of the rest of the staff in the department.

What he didnt bargain for was that this young woman had learned early on not to let anyone walk all over her, and to stand up for herself and others against injustice. She looked him straight in the eyes and told him firmly, ”Please do tell me if I'm wrong but you dont have to raise your voice with me!” Imagine his shock to be spoken to in that manner. By a 'lowly' intern at that!

Whats interesting was what followed in the next days. He no longer uses abusive language on the kid although he continued with his usual behaviour with others. Great for the kid, but honestly, I dont understand how that reputable company could allow such behaviour at all. In my environment, he would've been marched to the HR office twenty eight and a half years ago.

In my earlier post, I had related the fact that I was in an abusive relationship. He only stopped his threatening behaviour including abusive language when I took the risk of standing up against him after a long period. I should have had the courage of that kid much earlier.

I know for certain that the young woman will be successful in whatever she does. I also hope that she will share her stories for others to learn early in their lives.

I'm not depressed

It is now more than 3 years since my last post. I had visited these pages from time to time to remind myself how far I have moved on since then. When friends urged me to write again, I always responded that I write only when I’m depressed. As I hadn’t been in that state for quite some time, so these pages has not seen any new material.

But now I feel like writing again, among other things. Not because I’m depressed. But I have been told that I should share more of my experience. That I should speak up more often. I didn’t understand why anyone would want to listen to me. I’m so ordinary with nothing exciting to share, no lesson others can learn from me that they cannot get elsewhere. What I do and how I live my life is just a matter of course. I do what I have to do to survive, to contribute, to find happiness, just like everybody else.

However I learned recently that I should share my stories anyway. Let my listeners be the judge if the stories are of any use to them. Those who do not wish to listen don’t have to. I have known for a long time that the most meaningful kind of gift is one which we find most valuable to ourselves. And what could be more valuable to give away than the only thing that I truly own…my stories.

So there I was, trying to login to this page. Naturally, having been away for too long, I couldn’t remember my password anymore. I attempted with several different ones which I had used in the past, none worked. After some days thinking and trying, I gave up, and I clicked ‘forgot password’. The first question asked was, “Where did you have your honeymoon?” How can it be asking me this question? I couldn’t have answered it then so I can’t possibly answer it now. In fact there is no answer to that. I never had a honeymoon!

But the question did jolt me somewhat. The next day when I tried again, my fingers just flew to the right keys...and here I am.

Sorry Seems To Be The Hardest Word

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A few weeks ago, I gave up hoping that he would apologise. Sure he already said sorry, but it didn’t really count because I coaxed it out of him.

Two nights ago it was different. We were having one of our now rare late night phone calls, catching up on each other, when he genuinely apologised. I had least expected it when he finally admitted that he had hurt me. Knowing him as a proud man, it means a lot although the apology has come much later than I would have preferred. After all, sorry may well be his hardest word.

It had taken him two months but it is still not too late. It doesn’t mean that I’m taking him back. I just feel that perhaps he too can now let go of the past and look to what the future might bring him. Perhaps this admission means that he finally understands that it is not a viable option for me to remain with him.

Prior to that, he had said that he would never leave me, to which I agree..only because I have already left. Still, I like to think that he would continue to love me for a while yet, just as I do him. It doesn’t mean that we will get back together. I trust it means that we can still rely on each other when we need a friend. Perhaps there will be time when we could use each other for moral boost where needed.

It means that I would like to still meet him for dinner or a drink when he is in town, just to share updates in our mutually complicated lives, or to listen to our latest adventures.

At the very least I can trust him for some good hearty laughs.
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Between A Rock And A Hard Place

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I learned some valuable lessons at the weekend when I got myself stuck between a rock and a hard place, literally, and several times too in different caves.

I learned that as I go through life, I would from time to time be stuck in unpleasant situations. When that happens, I would need to spend additional effort and energy to extricate myself from that mess. There are normally forks in the paths that I could choose from. Invariably, one is to step back to where I came from, and the other to move forward. Both options are wrought with their own challenges, risks and unknowns.

In a sense, even if I choose to make a U-turn, that path may turn out to be as difficult as if I were to move forward. The trail which I thought was familiar when I came through one hole to be where I was is never the same when coming from the opposite direction. The same handholds and footholds are not as safe anymore so I would have to find different ones now.

Now, why should I then go back and face as much risks when I will only end up in the same place. I imagine going forward into the unknown is a lot more interesting. The pain, aches and bruises that come with it is anyway part of the fun. So basically, when stuck between a rock and a hard place, just go forward, literally and figuratively.

I also learned another lesson in going forward. At one point, I was facing a 20ft rock face. The guy in front of me made it up after trying and slipping several time. It took me some time to work up the courage, so I let a few others pass through, after which I couldn’t delay any more without holding up the whole gang.

Without a firm foothold, I slipped a couple of times. Then the gentleman stranger behind me offered his hands for me to step on. He cupped his hands together and held them up above his head. I gingerly stepped on them (in my boots too) and made it half way up the rock face. It was probably painful for his arms and hands but he didn’t complain.

Just like real life, at some points I must accept help from strangers to push me through some difficulties. I must trust that the offer of help is genuine and that the stranger has what it takes to give me that assistance. I learn too that I must sometimes offer my help to others in need without being asked for, and without expecting anything in return.

I had now left the hands that was supporting me, and yet still unable to reach the top of the ledge where someone was eagerly waiting to pull me up. There I was midway up the wall and left to my own devices. Giving up would have meant a 10ft drop onto a bed of rock, so the only way to go was up. Difficult as it was, somehow I managed to pull myself up. It was a marvelous feeling to have conquered something that earlier had seemed insurmountable.

A couple more obstacles and there I was looking at a tiny crevice with sunlight streaming in. A few steps up with a little wiggle around the sharp edges and I was out in the cool shade of the jungle.

Interesting enough, the gentleman who had helped me up the menacing wall then had a hard time getting out through that final crack. He was stuck for more than an hour and he was getting weak after making many attempts to push himself up. Fortunately, what goes around comes around, in a good way. Pulling him out was not an option. Another kind soul went around the back…which took a good half hour…and offered his hands to be stepped on. While waiting, the rest of the gang was keeping him company and sharing with him water snacks and some jokes to keep the spirits up.

That was yet another lesson learned. Sometimes I am stuck and others help me. Other times, I get to pay it forward to someone else. Our good deeds are always returned, at times many times over.
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Counting My Blessings

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It is now more than a week since my last post. The fact that I don’t feel the need to write as much anymore is a good sign. Time does heal after all.

In the recent years and months, I have witnessed sufferings of others which not only dwarf my own, but in fact make me view my life as full of blessings. Some examples I am listing below.

A friend discovered that her husband of 15yrs had re-married behind her back. She discovered this when she was recovering from delivery of her third child. It has been years since and she has accepted the fate. Financially, he provides well for the family; she stayed with him but raising her children practically single-handedly with hardly any emotional support from the man she continues to love. I am blessed.

A young acquaintance, married for 5 years said she made love with husband at most once a month. She said he meditates a lot in lieu of sex. Yeah..right..soon enough she discovered the third person. She kicked him out, he begged for her to take him back when he lost his job, and she..bless her heart...took him back...now they are trying again for a baby. I am blessed..in that she chose to trust my counsel like a sister she doesnt have.

Another couple had just completed a year of married life. During the year, she gave birth to a son. But she wasn’t celebrating their anniversary because she has learned that her husband has continued his relationship with an old flame. I am blessed.

One tough lady was divorced by her husband at least 7 years ago. He took her daughter away and she has not had a chance to see her again. The child is now 10yrs old. The only thing she knows about her mother is that she is a bad bad woman because that's what her father tells her. I am blessed.

A father of seven raising his children alone after his wife died of childbirth. I am blessed.

A father of two was taken to the cleaners by his wife. She left suddenly with everything movable that they owned, except the two children including one still in diapers. He raised them both on his own. Just when it got easier with both of them going to school, she sued for custody. The children have been shuttling back and forth between the two parents, depending on the latest court order, with no end in sight. I am blessed.

A couple married for donkey years, with children old enough to have their own children. She gave up her job when they were married. The husband is now having a mid-life crisis. No job but with an affair. She is now dipping into her meager savings to continue her daily existence. I am blessed.

A friend from school, having a great career, gifted children, understanding husband...the perfect family. Or so she thought. The husband is having an affair and she doesn’t have an inkling. The wife is always the last to know. I am blessed.

I have my family, sans husband. I have my job which I still enjoy. I have my health. I am free to go anywhere and do anything anytime that pleases me. I am blessed.
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Let The Healing Begin

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In the last weeks I had indulged in phone conversations with him. My intention was to firstly learn as much truth from him as possible. I had hoped to understand his side of the story. I wanted to make some sense of what had happened, or not happened between us.

Even at the outset, I knew that I could well be setting myself up for more pain and heartbreak. True enough, I was a bigger mess every time our phone calls ended. After three weeks, I still couldn’t tell the truth from the lies.

So bent was I in seeking that closure, at one point I came dangerously close to succumbing to the temptation of flying out to meet him. I bought my return tickets. I ordered a taxi to take me to the airport. It was only half an hour before the taxi was due to arrive that I changed my mind.

Boy…was I glad I didn’t take the trip. I lost that few hundred ringgits but got to keep my resolve.

Last night I thought that our communication was getting us nowhere. I said to myself, why prolong the pain if no discerning result is coming out of it. It was just then that he told me, “We can never get everything we want; it’s all decided for us; we must not forget Qada’ and Qadar”.

It was not actually anything new what he said. In the recent weeks, I have read the same thing over and over again elsewhere. I have even said it to myself to make me feel better. I have had others reminded me of the same. But that was the first time in three weeks that he said something I believe in without an iota of a doubt.

I guess, all that time, I was looking for a place where we are both standing together with the same understanding of where we are exactly. And I finally found it in that statement. There are still many questions which shall remain unanswered. But I believe that having him said that to me was just what I needed for the closure I am looking for.

To be sure, my heart is still in tatters. There is still plenty of hurt left to be spent. Nonetheless, I know that the healing process can now truly begin.

Now it is time to keep a proper distance. Unlike before, staying completely disconnected from him doesn’t seem too far fetched anymore. I will use that time to pick up the pieces of my heart. I will slowly put them together and nurse it back to health.

One day, sooner or later, when my strength returns, I will stand back to admire the jigsaw puzzle of my heart. There would then be a third piece missing from that picture. Those missing pieces will make the puzzle special.

Stories shall be told in place of those unseen pieces. When I am able to tell the third story with a smile, I would know that my healing is then complete.
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