Perhaps this wisdom will help me get along well with my highly extroverted mother when she visits next month! A lot of things make sense now; like how spending my impressionable years in a conservative Asian country that admires the Introvert Ideal, going to the same familiar school for fifteen years of my life and how having parents who didn't try to inhibit me and instead let me 'run away' with whatever thoughts and interests my mind fancied worked to my advantage in excelling in studies, building my core character and nurturing some of the life-long friendships I built along the way. I was a happy introverted child, having with me everything I could possibly wish for (it's no wonder my right foot is firmly planted in that past).
The real challenges came later in life after leaving the safe protection of the nest. Some of the downsides that I discovered later (apart from being way too naive and not knowing myself well enough) were that I was poorly armed in communication and social skills, all which led to self-doubt and loss of self-esteem in no time. These seeped into my performance in university and made it difficult for me to progress in the competitive world in my early career. Worst of all, I had no sense of direction because I had no idea where I wanted to go till quite recently. But the path leading to these types of self-realisations has ultimately been a rewarding one.
In my first blog post in May 2010, in describing myself, I write....
"I never felt like I fitted in anywhere as a person (does anyone, really?)"
Only now I have the answer to that! I was busy comparing myself to extroverts and trying too hard to conform to the extroverted standards that I thought was required for the environment I lived in when deep down it was exhausting and didn't feel right. I no longer feel the burden of wanting to fit in places I would not fit in, instead I actively seek out niches of people and situations that fit me. Knowing my limitations, I only stretch out of character to accomplish things I am really passionate about and in special cases where it is a pre-requisite to get to something I really need. And with enough practice and time, even out of character attributes (like public speaking, being assertive and feeling less anxious with new people/places) get easier.
Shu, you took two and a half years to figure out all this?? Really?? You are such an idiot.
I keep telling myself, I should stop blogging about introversion and animals for a change, but I keep falling back to those same topics.
The other day, I hunted down The Lion King I at a video store. I have lost count of the times I have watched it since its release in 1994, but it remains my favourite animated movie of all time. Watching it from an adult perspective this time, I was pleasantly surprised to see that behind the humour and colourful characters, the story still has many positive messages to take away.
Last weekend, I had a go at pseudo-skydiving at iFly Singapore on a Groupon voucher. "Pseudo" because it is as close as one can get to the real thrill of skydiving in the safe conditions of an indoor wind tunnel. It's a wonderful feeling to defy gravity in a controlled manner and not have to be burdened with the weight of our bodies, as in the case of swimming and flying. To my surprise, I was the best flyer in our group of seven first-timers (unlike being one of the worst performers in the new dance class I tried many months back!). The trick was to relax, position yourself according to the instructor's advice, be aware of the body positions that took your higher or lower in altitude and enjoy the flight that lasted less than a minute. After this experience, I feel a slight itch to add 'skydiving' to my bucket list, despite my fears of jumping out of an aeroplane with a faulty parachute.
Flying Shu. My photo was taken courtesy of a kind lady who was also taking pictures of her family and she volunteered to email them to me!
This being my first solo visit to Sentosa in over three years, I noticed a lot of change on this integrated island resort. Many new attractions (each with a big price tag attached) have popped up like mushrooms with new buildings using up every available space on the island making it rather over-crowded now. In some ways it felt like the place has lost its relaxing charm, while trying hard to make the most revenue out of thousands of visitors that visit here. In other ways, it appears to be evolving into a world-class attraction providing visitors with a wide range of unique experiences, that can't be found elsewhere.
I wonder why I woke up this morning, with a strong flashback of my time with my maternal grandfather. During his able years, he was an iron-willed, egotistical, domineering, hot-tempered and violence-prone man who was feared by many. In a fitting match of professions, he served in the military during the World War II and later in the Police force. When I came to associate closely with him after our family moved to his neighbourhood, he was a changed man. He was still strong-willed and independent, yet he was a retired widower living alone with a much softer temperament.
On most evenings for nearly three years, I would visit him for a couple of hours after getting home from school. His favourite past time used to be sitting on an old refrigerator placed horizontally under a shady mango tree while reading newspapers, chewing betel leaves, killing mosquitoes and having a 360 degree view of the large garden and frequently scanning the area for anyone who tried to sneak in from the borders. There were a lot of thieves in our village ranging from innocent ones looking for firewood, coconuts or fruits to junkies looking to steal anything they can find to get money to buy drugs. But with my grandfather's notorious and fearsome reputation, few had the nerve to try. The ones who tried often got caught and repented dearly.
Our meetings were like a tradition. We would both read the newspaper taking turns to read different sections and (mostly he) would comment on them. I preferred reading jokes and articles related to Science and Health. All the time, we would be surrounded by swarms of mosquitoes. I would use insect-repellent, wave my legs to discourage them or sometimes let them have a little 'food'. He would swat them and collect the dead ones in a small mound between us. Then he would make tea for us and we would chat while having crackers with our tea. He had a lot of stories to tell from his past. Often his face lit up relating the memorable ones where he acted valiantly. One of his favourites was telling how he had to shoot down a wild elephant that terrorised the villagers in a remote area where he was assigned to be on patrol. He tells me that he had nightmares for many months after that incident. Sometimes he told me the same stories over and over again, but I still listened patiently. I would help him with small chores like running to the grocery store to buy things, sweeping the garden or cleaning leaves off the gutters on the roof (though my mother protested to that) and plucking fruits or betel leaves. In return, he would usually give me fruits (usually overripe and not really edible, but I used to accept them anyway and discard them later).
He came to appreciate and depend emotionally on my company and he always inquired about the days I didn't turn up. If he heard I was sick, he would come all the way to check up on me. I suppose he felt very lonely after I left the country for my university studies, without anyone to take my place in the evenings. A few months after I left, I heard he got his first stroke and was left partially paralysed. Old age is not a pleasant phase and while there is strength of mind, there is usually better quality of life. But the moment it breaks down, sickness and death approach faster. Eventually, he went to live with his son and even made a short recovery from paralysis, but at age eighty and five months after I left, he succumbed to the second stroke attack. That December, I flew home straight to his funeral. And that was also the same month that the country was devastated by the tsunami of 2004.
I still miss him sometimes.
That is a perfect title for this post. I think losing things, finding things and learning things often go hand in hand. Not always easily. But hand in hand all the same. :)
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