All posts filed under: Untold Stories

A Kindergarten’s Story

When I was in kindergarten, one of my elder cousins who was in high school would drop me off at my school, (my elder sisters & cousins would take turns in bringing me to school ‘coz we lived in the same complex) and while we were walking she would teach me stuff she’d learned herself, like an elder is supposed to. Like, “don’t shave your arms or your eyebrows next time, just the legs” or “don’t cut your bangs yourself, you won’t get it straight even if you use a ruler, reflections are elusive, now you look like a cat with that remaining fluff.” Followed with a giggle. For more practical stuff “when you’re grown up like me, and they give you those IQ tests and you don’t know the answer, always choose (b) because that’s where they statistically put the correct answers.” One morning while we were waiting for our ride, I was incessantly asking her question after question, she sighed and said that she had been talking with her best friend (a psychologist …

Spring Cleaning and the Many Distractions

As I cleaned and discarded useless stuff I’ve collected over the years, I came across my old cassette tape player and what was left of my old cassette tape collection (I’m totally digital by now, but didn’t realize I had kept a few). I cleaned the player, tried the knobs and one fell off 😀 but I got it back to working again. I sat back and listened to Jewel, Sarah McLachlan, and Deep Forest while drinking my ice-cold tea. Jewel’s songs didn’t sound depressing as they used to. Nor did Sarah McLachlan’s. Deep Forest reminded me how excited I was those days to hear ethnic music being mixed with techno. That was before God created club dj’s. Deep Forest music is not a “mix”, it’s a merging of two different times, two cultures, two expressions. That was what their music was about. Eventually, I’m throwing all these magnetic and analog stuff out, (erm… but not my art stuffs, yet!) I wonder who still uses cassette tapes.. As I listened to Four Seasons as interpreted …

A Thousand Paper Cranes

Grateful for a friend’s story which reminded me to write something I’ve been wanting to share here but hadn’t felt ready to do. Last year my spiritual teacher died. It devastated me. In my grief, I felt spiritually anchorless, unsafe and unsure. She was a teacher who insisted she wasn’t a teacher but who taught me my major lessons, how to stand up to life but have confidence in its flow. When I first met her, I had to beg her to take me as her student, and finally she took three of us in, while grumbling the whole time that she wasn’t our bloody teacher. She was funny and loud, but oftentimes, soft-spoken, articulate and wise, and on rare occasions, ruthlessly decisive in her compassion. She kept pushing us to our limits but we always had lots of laughs with our practice. A year after she’d been teaching me, she sent me away and cut off our connection because in her view, I was getting complacent and wasn’t learning in her presence anymore. She explained, …