A Piece of My Mind

noreply@blogger.com (Bim) — Mon, 13 Nov 2006 21:12:00 +0000

How often do you sit in a class of 56 people, among whom are people who are Olympians, rock stars in Austria, member of a family who owns 5% of the GDP of Portugal, and many of whom have started their own companies across the globe and made millions? And all of them, have distinguished themselves academically and done well in their GMAT to make it a top business school? Everyday.

I know I've not been terribly enthusiastic about class, but today i was reminded why I am here. Every Monday and Friday, the class would take turns to talk about who we are and where we want to be. I've always been astounded by what some of my classmates have done.

In college, you see so much potential. But the amazing thing about doing a mid-career MBA program is that you not only their potential (which is literally boundless), but also their achievements. I am humbled.

It also made me realise the power of dreams. Not many Singaporeans dream. But, as one of them put it today, "You can't have a dream come true, if you don't dream." Dream on!

Baby Benjy

noreply@blogger.com (Bim) — Fri, 03 Nov 2006 06:30:00 +0000

So, confirmed boy. The doctor says. It's hard to describe how R and I felt when Dr Liu pointed to the scan and asked, "Did I already tell you about the sex of the baby? I said 80% chance boy? Well, confirmed boy ah!" I suppose at that point, being a Chinese doctor speaking to a Chinese, he was expectng me to jump for joy that the Lau family line is truly secure. After all, we have been calling the baby "Benjamin" for the longest time, haven't we?

Seeing that he was not going to get the Jump of Ecstatic Joy, he promptly took these two photos. "Wah, look at his arm ah. So strong! Just like a man. And his face, so good-looking ah? High forehead."

I smiled. Actually, I think having two sons, close in age, would be loads of fun. I just have to be realistic about having a quiet and peaceful home for some years! Looks like R and I will be getting some ear muffs and seriously child-proofing the home when we get back.

The Joy of Being Sick

noreply@blogger.com (Bim) — Thu, 26 Oct 2006 00:59:00 +0000

So I've been quite ill the past few days. Started with a horrible seafood lunch that wasn't fresh,and before I knew it, I was out running to the toilet for some liquidation. In accounting terms, as I am learning in business school, there was some serious LIFO (last-in-first-out), followed by FIFO (first-in first-out). If you're not an accountant, and don't get the joke, don't worry one tiny bit. Just know that it was a double-dose of suffering!

It is not my intention to go into excruciating details on the time and location of my discretions, but to reflect on the amazing ability of sickness to bring us back dead-centre on what matters most to us.

As I lay in bed with a churning tummy, wondering when I would get down to some serious sleeping, I prayed. I've been reading Philip Yancey's "Prayer". It has given me much comfort as I struggle in the materialism of business school. There is a God. He hears us; no, he WANTS to hear us. Above all the din of accounting, economics, modeling, organisatonal behaviour, and what-nots, the silence of a God listening in breaks through the sweat of a diarrheatic moment -- silent, not moving, clutching my belly, in the middle of the night.

I prayed to get well. But only after I learn more about praying, and putting first things first.

A Moment

noreply@blogger.com (Bim) — Thu, 12 Oct 2006 07:06:00 +0000

Life's made of moments -- the most important being the present. In my struggle to make sense of the situation, I find myself looking to the future too often, and the past more frequently than I should. I wished some things were as they were when we were back in Singapore -- the comfort and support of families and friends. Trusted people who can help us through the daily grind. People we know. If the past holds no solace, then I look beyond, to the future... of the kind of room that Benjamin would have, and the kind of things I would do back in the workplace. In short, I engage in escapism -- anything but the present.

Ruth and I like this photo I took of her standing in Crissy Fields one cold morning. The stately Golden Gate in the background, and it seemed as if she was all alone; and me, the photographer, sipping the moment with her. I could feel myself "present". It was a nice place to be, to be present.

Be present. Tomorrow, when I go to my classes, I need to be present. I have only today. Jesus tells us the same message -- who knows about tomorrow? Today, what difference can I make? What peace can I find? What friend can I make? In other words, how can I be alive in the moment of the present -- and not be spirited away into the past or the future...

Starting Again

noreply@blogger.com (Bim) — Fri, 01 Sep 2006 06:29:00 +0000

So I've started business school. All the preparations since June have finally come to this -- the actual studying. I must say I am not quite prepared for it, despte having settled nearly everything I thought I'd need to settle before starting classes. I just don't feel ready for school.

I wonder if everyone who goes back to school after working more than 8 years feels quite the same way. I'd have imagined myself enjoying school after working so hard; but the strange thing is that I actually miss the excitement of work. Words on the cold pages of textbooks descrbing abstract concepts with vague relation to real life and real people somehow doesn't seem quite worth buckling down for long nights.

I am sure I'll get into the swing of things eventually, but I am surprised that the transition is not all sweet and honey as I had thought it'd be! I used to think it was because I'm in school again with family and a baby -- but I now think it has more to do with findng a connection between books and reality. I know I will find it eventually -- I just hope it is soon!!!

At the Edge of the World

noreply@blogger.com (Bim) — Mon, 14 Aug 2006 03:16:00 +0000

Continuing a tradition that Mel and I started two years back, we went diving over National Day weekend. Two years ago, we went with three other ladies (one of whom was my wife) to Perhentian (via train). Last year, I took a dive with baby Dan. This year, Mel and I went to Sipadan.

Sipadan is one of the more unusual places in the world. Sworn by Cousteau to be the "best diving site in the world", it is a coral atoll sitting out from the edge of the Borneo continental shelf. It's a coral atoll the size of St Johns Island, but a wall that goes down hundreds of metres into the ocean. A sharp pinprick in the ocean, no less.

However, it is also an eco-tourism disaster these days. When Cousteau first discovered the island 3 or 4 decades ago, it was virgin dive site. It must have been awesome. Then the resorts came (inevitably). The sedimentation and pollution started, and the corals started dying. The more people flocked to see the wonders of Sipadan, the more they were killing it. And now, there are practically no living corals left.But the big fishes still come for some reason. We did catch the famous barracudas by the thousands. Absolutely overwhelming sight.

However, even for these majestic creatures, the dive guides commented how their populations are also dwindling....

I wrote in my journal some time back after a similar dive trip, that divers are sad sea gypsies. They roam the seas hoping to find a pristine dive site, only to be disappointed each time. If the corals are their lovers, they also know in their hearts that the more they see of her, the more they are killing her. Corals die if you touch them; so with each embrace, you are killing your own lover -- touch by touch, dive by dive.

Yet, the seas are hauntingly beautiful. I feel myself drawn to its vastness, and its majesty. If you have ever been in a small boat in choppy seas, you'll learn to respect it. Yet, we are killing it. We have killed the forests; and now we are killing the seas.

I do wonder if there will be anything left for Baby Dan to see when he grows up. Perhaps not. Perhaps all he will ever see of the creatures I've gawked at this weekend would be at the Underwater World. But perhaps (I hope vainly) that the seas are more resilient than we imagine.

Daniel Goes to Thailand again

noreply@blogger.com (Bim) — Wed, 26 Jul 2006 07:05:00 +0000

After our rather successful attempt to lug around HeWhoWails in Phuket for 3 days last year, we decided to go on a real vacation with him in Bangkok and Hua Hin. It had the usual ups and downs of being with a baby -- days when he's so absolutely adorable you can pinch his cheeks for hours saying "goo-ga-ga" and days when you have to keep praying to stop yourself from giving him a good hiding.

Ok, so let's start with the good bits. Ok, I am shameless. I think Daniel is really cute. These are pictures of us at the Oriental in Bangkok. He was in a good mood that day and the weather was gorgeous -- not too hot, but light enough for a warm picture.

The Oriental is a great place to hang out. At first we wanted to go to the older building but they had some special events there and didn't want to take us in. So we wandered to the other cafe, which is really nice as it opens out to the Chao Praya. And of course, while we are there, with all the lovely Thai food all around us, and the best of English tea, we had to order the very special Oriental Steak Burger. YUMS the word. Enjoying the view; it took us a good two hours to devour this beast of a Burger:

Daniel got to know MacLing's Baby Eyeore really well on the train from Bangkok to Hua Hin (200km south). He was already pouncing on the poor little purpling and chewing its head off in Singapore before the trip. Somehow, he developed a very sweet tenderness toward the little donkey, and he was caught nooching him like a best buddy, or picking lice off his rather unkempt mane.

Hua Hin itself wasn't a great place. In fact, it was rather empty considering that it was the European summer and our (horrid because it gave us a small room) Marriott hotel was 100% occupied.

Ok, so there were a few sunbathers. a *few*. And the horses; there were more horses than tourists at some parts. It makes one wonder about the kind of dreams the touts were pandering to -- some deep-seat European vision of horse-riding on the beach, which is, of course, totally lost on urban Singaporeans.

Daniel learnt a few useful things. In the morning, he learnt that the Bangkok Post is actually quite a refreshing read after his earlier attempts to wade through the *ahem* in the Straits Times.

And then, he settled down to a royal Thai buffet, which got rather repetitive after a few days -- so he was quite pleased chomping down the bread that mom and dad proffered.

The highlight of the Hua Hin leg of the trip was this gorgeous restaurant, called "Let's Sea" (yes, the Thais have to work on their English word play). We called up the day before to make reservations and were very pleasantly surprised they gave us the gorgeous red couch (one of two) that faced the open sea. It was a very beautiful setting to watch the sunset, and it went mighty well with the gorgeous (and incidentally very tasty) meal that came along with the setting.

So yes, those were the "good" days. Actually, now that I've put down how enjoyable the trip was, the "bad" days with Danny didn't seem all that important or significant after all. I mean, he was *annoying*. And living with him in the same room for four days in the puny room at the Marriott is not something I'd *ever* want to do again. But all in all, with some selective memory, the trip was rather enjoyable. Well, at least i think Dan had a whale of a time (though he did come down with diarrhea on the last day of the trip).

I think Ruth and I would gladly do this again. There's something about Bangkok and babies. But I think maybe it's just the really cheap air fare and er ... the really yummy food and pretty places, and ....

The Many Faces of Daniel

noreply@blogger.com (Bim) — Sun, 16 Jul 2006 07:25:00 +0000

Hi Daddy, I've been a good boy today haven't I? Can you give me some of the lovely apple flavoured BabyBites?

Oh Daddy, please please! I am such a good boy! please!

Daaadddddyyyyy!!!!! *POUT* Gimme!!!

Awww.. you're just pulling my leg aren't you Daddy?!! Very funny!

No? Daddy? Do you understand what I'm babbling? please.... BabyBite! Muum muum! Plleaaasee.. I'm really hungry ...... *whimper*

If you're NOT going to give it to me, I'm coming to GET IT ##(!@)(*!@)(~!~

Ok. Fine. So you're bigger than me.....

Let me try to look cute again ok? See? I am sooo sooo guai ....

Sigh... looks like you're not going to gimme that biscuit... I shall have to think long and hard about the meaning of life again (it isn't all about eating, or is it?) ...

So I am 31

noreply@blogger.com (Bim) — Sat, 27 May 2006 05:50:00 +0000

There's something anti-climatic about being 31. Please don't mistake me -- every birthday is as enjoyable, esplecially when one wakes up to a CYC shirt from wife. But there's a decidedly middle-age feel to being 31. Aw come on! those in their 40s and 50s will scream; but honestly, think back when you were 31. It felt like you had gone being in the swinging twenties and found yourself firmly in a mid-life land. Not that this is a bad thing; I am actually enjoying it very much. Teenage angst feels like a bad dream, and loneliness? Hmm.. Yes, I vaguely remember how miserable it felt, especially on a long stretch.

Of course, life isn't without trouble. Just this morning, I was conned like a tourist in my own land at the Underwater World. "Free Photo Taking" says the sign -- "photo printing" on the other hand .... The challenges of life are less immediate and obvious. The pitfalls have nice thick leaves covering their gaping mouths. For one, it is easy to get complacent in midlife. You've got a house, a car, a wife, and a very cute baby, and you think life can't be better. I was talking to PE who was back in Singland for a 3 weeks recently. He said he was browsing some books and one caught his eye: "Don't Waste Your life". I believe it was a book by John Piper. I love Piper (am devouring his "God is Gospel" now). I read through the except of the book and it was about how easily life could have gone astray in the midst of comfort and worldly dreams.

At 31, it is too late to "start again" (not that I want to). Most of life's major decisions have been made. I have chosen the woman who will "grow old with me". And we have chosen to have a son who will be our responsibility till we breathe our last. I am very happy with those decisions. Now what? Now, as it has always been, is to thank God for his blessings and to use these gifts for his purposes.

So if there's a prayer for me; it will be to hang fast to him in love (Psalm 91), even as life appears to be more settled, and I more content. My present state is not an end in itself -- it is the foundation that God has given me that I don't deserve, for the good works he has prepared in advance for us to do. (Eph 2:10)

Sum of Our Past

noreply@blogger.com (Bim) — Mon, 22 May 2006 05:36:00 +0000

Unlike our bodies de
generate
Minds and hearts
accumulate.

By chemical weight
we're much the same
By moments and memories
we differentiate.

Are you a miser of your thoughts?
or do you give
the world your riches?

Beauty is the moment being
and the rich tapestry
of the layers of moments
that maketh You.

Love is not in the kissing
but the weaving
of your memories and mine
once
abstract and separate
now
in your every breath
I remember
how you and I
are we are.

When leaving,
we'll leave each other
in the warm embrace
of the eternal tapestry
that lives and breathes
moments
and spins
new life.

Why God Made Me Write Minutes

noreply@blogger.com (Bim) — Sun, 30 Apr 2006 02:17:00 +0000

I've always wondered why God made me a boring paper pusher. This
morning, while doing my morning quiet time in the gentleman's room, i
read watchman Nee's list of qualities god looks for in his workers.
Number One on the list, was the ability to listen. i was very
surprised. Love came somewhere down the list. Nee was very convincing.
In order for a person to serve others, he must have the ability to
listen to what others are saying in the first place. Have you ever
visited a doctor who doesn't listen to you before prescribing
medication? frightening.

Nee said God's worker must listen impartially, and with an open and
neutral heart. Not be subjective or jump to conclusions.

Then it struck me. Hey this is what I do when i take minutes! I
listen intently and with an open mind, no matter how strange the
discussions may be. well, I try.

I was greatly encouraged by that realisation. God prepares us even
when we don't realise it. most of all, i was re assured that
everything we do, no matter how seemingly senseless, has God's
fingerprints all over it.

What Hope Do We Have?

noreply@blogger.com (Bim) — Sun, 16 Apr 2006 05:44:00 +0000

It has been a rather solemn Easter. There has been a wedding and two “near” funerals, which is not entirely inappropriate considering the bitter-sweetness of the Easter season. On Friday, we remember the death of Christ. On Sunday, we celebrate his victory over death, on our behalf. Both life and death are central themes; one cannot exist without either. We will not understand the eternal life that God has promised us if we do not understand Death.

There is a certain human morbidity towards mortality. In Chinese customs, it is “suai” (unlucky) to even speak of it. Whenever I mention my own mortality to my parents, they would also say “Choy! Choy! Choy!” Nobody likes talking about Death. Even the mere mention of it sends shivers down the spine of some, like the breath of some unspoken evil.

Christians are not spared. Among Christian circles that I know, it is far better to speak of pastry shops and guitar models than the way in which we wish to die. It is not a fair statement, I agree. After all, God has given us the world to be enjoyed ala John Piper. The World is good and beautiful because God made it. But it is also fallen.

So it is perhaps “kosher” to speak of Death during Easter, when we speak of it not only in isolation, but also together with the promises of its own destruction by the blood of Christ. We hear during sermon today, a testimony of a man who was crushed in a car accident – involving a train. He lives miraculously and speaks of God’s blessings. The preacher today broke the news at the pulpit of a possible disease that may leave him walking on this earth for perhaps 2 to 5 years yet. And then the inevitable.

It is in this fresh light that I re-read the story of Lazarus in John 11. A few things I learnt about griefing. That it is firstly, ok to weep. Jesus wept when he saw where Lazarus died. Martha wept, even though she believed Jesus will resurrect him on the Last Day. Weeping and mourning is natural. Secondly, that Jesus wanted for Lazarus to die before resurrecting him, knowing that L will surely die, and that was better for him to die, and then be resurrected, so that more could believe, and more importantly, that it would be beyond any reasonable doubt that he is God. Implied in this, is that our death is at the Lord’s own bidding. He knows our time. Thirdly, and this is my own understanding, that the point in which death occurs is irrelevant to a believer. We will all die an earthly death (before Jesus comes again). It is merely an intermediate point, between now and everlasting.

These points have a very practical implication on our lives. The climax of Jesus’ Ministry was his Death and Resurrection on the cross. It was not his goodness, though he was good. It was not his Wisdom, though he was wise. The central part of your faith and mine in Jesus is not that we will become good and acceptable to God and men. It is not just that we are put right and escape judgment. All these are true. But the crux, the nub of it remains that we have Resurrection Hope. It means that we will be like Christ, and we have conquered death and will live forever. That, was in essence, Christ’s ministry on this earth.

So what does this mean for Daniel?

It means that when we bring him up, we want don’t necessarily want him to be the smartest, funniest, happiest kid on the block. It means that we don’t just want him to have the “right values” and be a “good citizen” to his country. It means we will focus on ensuring that he has eternal life; and that death for him (yes, surely that will come) will be but an intermediate point because he believes and loves Jesus so much that he will not spare a second thought about running the race along the straight and narrow.

It is not easy for parents to talk about the death of their children. But I feel strangely compelled to think and write about it. If we, as believers, do not confront death, it means deep down in our hearts somewhere, we don’t have Resurrection Hope. And it is in precisely in thinking about the (eventual) death of our children, that we put first things first. Yes, we do want them to be happy and balanced individuals, much loved by others. But not at the cost of his holiness, not at the cost of him forsaking Christ.

This puts in contrast some interesting questions. Do we send him to an expensive pre-school so that he’ll have the best opportunity to develop his young pliable mind? Or do we read him the Bible regularly and pray with him? Not mutually exclusive, I admit, but in our busy lives, we tend to let one slip. Do we love him for all his faults, or do we try our darnest best to make him a well-behaved kid so that others will find him irresistible? Again, not mutually exclusive, but I know myself – the deepest darkest of our own parental motives can sometimes incline to prepare our child for the best shot for success in this world (first and foremost), and, oh by the way, yes, we of course want him to be holy. Thinking about Daniel’s death, therefore, puts all these issues in the right perspective. I want my son to have eternal life. I want him to glorify God forever.

This has been a long post after an equally long absence. I have been telling R about my malaise and lack of closeness with God the past days, weeks. I can’t quite put my finger on it. But I think I’m a bit closer after these Easter day thoughts. Parenting consumes parents. It does. And I think God wants me to love my son truly with the right motives at the bottom of my heart, and not go down the dangerous road of parental pride.

Christmas Day Thoughts

noreply@blogger.com (Bim) — Mon, 26 Dec 2005 03:26:00 +0000

“I am the gate; whoever enters through me will be saved. He will come in and go out, and find pasture. The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy; I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full. I am the good shepherd. The good shepherd lays down his life for the sheep.” – Jesus, from John 10:9-11

This is where I think C.S. Lewis draws his inspiration from for the “Wardrobe”, the magical portal into Narnia. But Jesus is not just Aslan; he is the Gate itself through which we enter – to find pasture.

As yet another very rich and full year draws to an end, it is apt to give thanks to how God sustains us. I would characterize this year, in terms of events, as The Year Daniel Joined the Lau Family @ Spottiswoode. The first eight months of pregnancy, followed by his delivery on 16 Aug 05, and four exciting and trying months of learning more about him. It’s been a ride!

In terms of spiritual growth, I learnt many lessons. First and foremost is the importance of having peace and joy in our lives no matter what happens. I have actually borne much disappointment and bitterness at work (for the heavy workload that is often frustrating and stressful) and at home (for the lack of personal freedom and space now that Daniel needs me (and Ruth) more than I have ever been felt “needed” before). Through all these struggles, God’s voice is clear – Bim, you have been saved to do good works; out of utter darkness I’ve saved you for a rich and full life you don’t deserve. It is during these moments when I understand who I am, where I am, that the sweetness of knowing Christ and having secured salvation through Him that peace and joy flows. Bitterness (or Christian sourness as one writer puts it), is the root of fruitless living, and a smack in God’s face for all that He has done for us. How can we not be grateful?

The other thing that I’ve really gained this year, is a better perspective of heaven. In John Chapman’s “A Sinner’s Guide to Holiness”, he hit home when he observed that some Christians don’t want “holiness” to spoil the fun. “oh god, let me be naughty a little while longer… I’ll repent in due time.” I’ve also found that many Christians don’t look forward to heaven. In the land of plenty and comfort, we often mistake the pleasures of this World as more enticing than whatever heaven can be. We often lament that we’re going to miss this or that when we go to heaven and that it would be so “boring” just singing praises all day long. Not true!!! That is the beginning of the seed of unbelief. The proud among us will echo the words of Victor Hugo “an intelligent hell will be better than a stupid paradise.” We characterize hell as fun and full of intelligent company. How hideously sinful are those thoughts! What Hell is, we should not be uncertain at all. And neither should we be uncertain about Heaven. I think it is one of the saddest thing of modern day Christianity that we’re so occupied with God’s help for our present living, that we forget that he has already prepared a wonderful place for us – NOT in this world, but in heaven. So we are called to persevere and press on, to run the good race, so we can receive our reward in heaven.

I’ve also been thinking a good deal about praying. Often, I find myself praying, but not believing that God will either bother about my trivial requests, or is even listening. A few things became clear to me this year:

God wants us to pray – just as communication is the lifeblood of any relationship; he craves to hear us, and so we him

We must believe God listens to our prayers; unbelieving prayer is an insult to God and a waste of time

We should pray for all things and for all the people in our lives

The Christian walk is a difficult one, which is doomed to failure by own strength; but it aided and sustained by God himself. What comfort that is!

So as I look back this year, and wonder at how rich and full it has been, I am truly thankful this Christmas that we live on this side of eternity – Christ’s advent is the turning point for human history – collectively, and as individuals. Without Christ, we’re merely bacteria living on the surface of a planet spun from dust – and indeed, to dust we will return.

My Son Is Cooler Than Me

noreply@blogger.com (Bim) — Mon, 28 Nov 2005 14:59:00 +0000

Playing aeroplane at East Coast
Originally uploaded by mylittlecyberspot.

It's hard to admit this, but I think Daniel is way cooler than me. I look like a total idiot with my mouth wide open. And Dan? As cool as a cucumber wondering what the fuss is all about.

Since he was a baby (well, he's still a baby), his eyes has that penetrating searching and serious look. In contrast, I have squinty eyes that often look tired and a little befuddled.

It's really interesting seeing his personality evolve over the short 3 months. He's generally a calm baby, but when something really gets to him, he doesn't stop wailing till he's completely got the message across. No, Dad, I don't LIKE being POKED. Yes, I MEAN IT! WWWWAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!

Ever wonder what you were like when you were a kid? Just ask your parents and you'd be surprised at the things you never knew about yourself...

Daniel You are Three (months)

noreply@blogger.com (Bim) — Wed, 16 Nov 2005 07:17:00 +0000

Wearing stuffed toys hat!
Originally uploaded by mylittlecyberspot.

Dear Daniel,

This is your daddy writing to you on your three months birthday on 16 Nov 05. You have been with mom and I every day since you came, except for the brief spell in the KKH when you were down with jaundice. It's been a roller coaster ride -- sometimes, we wonder how we survived it all. I am sure you must wonder how you made it too. =)

Now that you are a big boy, mature and ready for the world (after all, you have finally mastered the art of crying and smiling when you are pooping), Daddy would like to tell you more about this world you are growing up in. Mommy and I put the donkey and dinousaur on your head to teach you one very important fact of life -- no matter how small and cute you are, there's always some people who wants to sit on you and make you look rather silly. This is good, actually, cos it makes you humble. Yes, you're not *that* good looking after all.

As you grow each day by the mm and mgs, you will learn that there is really so much that you can do other than lying in your cot and kicking around. You can do a lot of good or a lot of evil. Mommy and I pray every day that you will choose to do good with the gifts and talents that God has given you. I hope you will remember this as we discipline you, teaching you not to electrocute yourself by sticking your finger into the socket to shut down the fridge; or yanking the hair out of the pet rabbit we will get you one day. We hope that you will continue to be happy and cheerful, and remember to always "dang yew" in your own special smiley ways as others round you show you the bright light of humanity.

As for the donkeys and the dinosaurs of this world who try to sit on you, always remember that you can always ignore them, no matter how silly you look. They don't change you one bit, if you don't let them ... =)

Love,
Daddy

The Difficulty of Dreaming

noreply@blogger.com (Bim) — Sun, 25 Sep 2005 16:07:00 +0000

I write speeches in MOE. I paint wonderful pictures of what life would be like if we get our education system right; if our teachers put their hearts and souls to nurturing their students, the only limit to their lives is how big their dreams are. I write that students, if things were done right to them, would be seized with the joy of life, and would live their dreams out passionately.

But it is a really difficult thing to dream once you’re out of school. In school, we dream many things of we want to be; and our teachers (the good ones, at least) religiously build up our self-confidence to (dare I say) “dare to dream”. It’s a good feeling; dreaming of which college you want to go to. And then when you’re in your “dream college”, dreaming of the possibilities before you – working in a big job, traveling the world, making a difference.

Something happens after graduation that seems to rob us of the power to dream. Some people call it maturity; others call it disillusionment. But it sets in for most people. I look back to my school and college days – the dreams I had; the dreams I knew people had. And I look at the present. Our dreams would be ashamed of us.

Why is it so hard to dream? I suppose there’s just so much to lose; to be different. There’s a certain expectation of how life should turn out; and we live such timid lives within those well-defined parameters. True, we still dream sometimes – earthly, material, short-sighted ones. “Oh! Life would be so perfect if I get my hands on the iPod nano!”, or “Oh! It would be so perfect if we could spend December in Bali”. We’re such fools to believe we would be complete if only we had those petty dreams.

What happened to the big dreams? The dreams of making a difference, or being who we are, and proud of it?

It hits us all eventually. Some when they wallow in mid (or quarter)-life crises. Others when they have lost everything they thought mattered, or when the veil of superficiality is lifted for them to see their petty dreams in all their vain glory. We come face to face again with the student we had left behind when we graduated – the beaming, happy, expectant face of youth untainted by the grind of daily conforming.

Perhaps we should not just equip our young with the confidence to dream, but to teach them the importance of persevering even when those dreams fade in the harsh reality of the workplace. We should teach them to write their dreams down daily, and keep asking honest questions whenever their life-paths start deviating – if they have changed their dreams and passions, that’s still fine; but if they have lost it, our gentle voices should come echoing, like sirens calling sailors, not to their deaths, but to come back to being true to themselves, instead of being true to the world.

I May Be Small ....

noreply@blogger.com (Bim) — Sat, 17 Sep 2005 07:21:00 +0000

Yes, I may be small ... But I am the Boss, says Daniel's one-sie on his first month celebrations yesterday. I guess we haven't got round to tell him about God; one day, he'll learn. He'll also learn that mommy's milk is not the best thing this world can offer, that being woken to eat is not the most terrible thing to happen to anyone, that being burped is not some strange ritual torture that mommy and daddy inflicts on poor baby. It's quite fun to imagine little conversations in his head when he stares at us.

Today, we brought him out for a walk round the estate. He slept through most of it, oblivious to the beauty of the world around him. Sometimes, I wonder if he still wishes he was back in the warm dark womb. And that makes me wonder about our own state. While we saved by the blood of the lamb, and heaven awaits us, do we still cling on to the finite and miniscule pleasures of this world as if heaven is going to be but a strange bad choral dream? When will we wake to the realities of our inheritance?

Strange how the Small Boss teaches us things....

On a Silent Hill

noreply@blogger.com (Bim) — Sun, 11 Sep 2005 15:34:00 +0000

Sometimes it takes the most unexpected things in life to make one appreciate the good stuff. After a week of hard work, I look forward to a quiet time at home with R. However, since the Thing That Wails came along, the weekends are beginning to feel like weekdays ... sometimes even worse.

Tired and worn out, conversations going round in circles about the Origin of the Noise, a.k.a. Why is The Baby Crying? ... in between the moments of wakefulness and half-sleep, I glimpsed at my wife. Tired, sore, soldiering on as a mom, sometimes (to borrow the title of a movie we watched together), crying out in the centre of the world, but not knowing who's listening. And yet, she smiles for me.

That made me think about how far we have come. The photo above was taken on our honeymoon; we had been wandering around like lost sheep on old pastures outside a small (forsaken) town in the Spanish hillsides just outside of Priego de Cordoba. It was a very very quiet day with grey skies, and no one else around for miles. Perhaps a lone sheep or two sprinkled on a distant hills. The cold wintry air biting our skin, and the lone naked tree, like a half-frozen thunder. There, R sits on the rocks, half-smiling.

I remember now, how she, despite my idiotic notions of adventure backpacking, had been nursing me back to health after I fell sick at Granada, (having insisted on eating salted fish on a cold hilltop). She, patient, petite, stuck with me, even though I was poor company.

It's moments like these: on a cold lonely silent hilltop, in hot tropical Singapore with a wailing kid choking on his own spit, that the true test of a wife comes to bear; and I can only see beauty, in so many different ways hidden in the grind of daily living, shine forth like a ray of light against grey skies -- and I know the good days are always here, because she is here. My heart quickens.

Now if only the kid will shut up.

Woohooo!! Look at Me Hands!

noreply@blogger.com (Bim) — Sat, 27 Aug 2005 07:54:00 +0000

Look Daddy! Bunny Ears! No kidding. This kid has amazing control of his fretful hands. He uses them to punch people who love him, and push away the breast that feeds. And to humble himself once in a while, he puts them on his head to make strange funny faces. Just this afternoon, he did a left hand salute with the utmost dignity and sobriety.

And his belly is beginning to show! Gulping down a torrent of 100ml of milk each feed, this boy grew an amazing 600g in a week. Yes, a week. My mom says he had the same appetite as I had when I was a weeny little boy, but I am just amazed. Simply amazed.

They say that kids grow quickly, and I never knew that they meant it literally. In just 10 days since Daniel erupted into this world, he has visited two hospitals, one clinic (several times), had 2 injections, had another 8 needles poked all over his body for blood, suffered from erythema toxicum something something (little red patches with pus in the centre), changed more than a hundred diapers (during which he tried out 4 different brands), drank about 7kg of milk (twice his weight -- just imagine the amount of poop), shed off his umbilical cord, met more than 50 relatives and friends (not to mention more than 10 nurses fussing over him), experienced the coolness of a mustela barrier cream on his ass, peed on his mom, pooped (catapulted, rather) on his confinement lady, driven around more than 5 times in a car, enjoyed sun tanning three times, made 4 new friends (soft-toys), and well! Can anyone say that about himself or herself in the past ten days? Holed up in the cubicle, typing out emails and reports -- boy, if only life ahead will be just as interesting =)

Look at Me! I'm Cute!

noreply@blogger.com (Bim) — Sun, 21 Aug 2005 07:59:00 +0000

Why are babies cute? A bundle of life, a new beginning? I don't know. Babies are just cute. Real cute, especially if they are yours. We can't help but take multiple pictures of Daniel in various poses, with his eyes closed, his mouth yawning, etc. This one is my favourite today. He's currently warded at KK for jaundice (blame the ginger!), and we've been to and fro-ing from home to breast feed him. I guess that explains the slight tinge of anger you see on his face.

For a five day old kid, he's really quite strong, grabbing things rather tenaciously, as if determined to exert his presence. And his searching piercing eyes, ever so full of meaning, taking in all the information it can to keep pace with his rapidly expanding brain. And the chubby cheeks, red from Daddy's rubbing. Isn't he cute??!! =)

You're Too Good to be True

noreply@blogger.com (Bim) — Thu, 18 Aug 2005 13:16:00 +0000

You're too good to be true, I can't take my eyes off you. You'd be like heaven to touch. I wanna hold you so much .... I never thought I'd be singing this to anyone but my wife, but the tune does ring in my head when I look upon my newborn son, Daniel, born 16 Aug 05, 7.50pm, under the safe hands of Dr Tan Hak Koon. It has been a most memorable four days since R was admitted to SGH on Mon, 15 Aug with a 4cm dilation.

It's one of the "true" truisms that you'd never understand parenthood till you become one. Amidst the euphoria of bringing a child to this world, fears and doubts also abound -- in a heady mixture of sleeplessness. While I want to hold Daniel and promise him the world, I also know that he would disappoint one day; that he'd make some really bad decisions, and say some really hurtful things to pain his parents -- hopefully unintentionally. Yet, I know he will also bring tremendous joy in those moments when you realise you had given him the right values and beliefs to ground him firmly in the fear of the Lord. Trepiditious joy, that's what it is.

I think he looks a lot like R, with her nose and searching solemn eyes, which is perhaps why I find it so easy to form a strong sense of attachment. Within the first few seconds after he was sucked out of his mother's womb by a mighty vacuum, his eyes were wide open, searching for understanding of this strange, noisy, and cold world that he had come into. He looked at me. I held his tiny hands. Holding him was my JC school-mate (now a doctor), and he congratulated me. His eyes; they just gaze as if they knew that this would be the man who could either make his life a joy or a living hell.

We have been praying a lot. Nothing reminds us of our own mortality and fragility like a baby. Our utter dependence on God is often masked by our little achievements in life (oh, look, I can do this, or that), but a baby just lies on his bed, crying, hapless except perhaps for the air he breathes. Actually, we're all like that too. I wonder if Daniel in his deepest delusions think that he is perfectly capable of taking care of himself, just we do of ourselves.

The thoughts, they keep coming. I turn to R and we remind one another of what a wonderful friend told us from the UK -- we're 2+1, not 3. R is still my wife, and I am still her husband. We're one. This baby, given by God, is our joint love, pain, joy, and responsibility. And the best way we can provide for him is to have a strong marriage firmly under God's loving hand. Yes, in a strange way, in the midst of all the jubilations, I draw quiet strength from the fact that R is (in the words of Elder Michael Lee) "freehold" but our baby is only "leasehold" ... but oh, what a wonderful leasehold it is going to be!

Party At the botanics

noreply@blogger.com (Bim) — Sun, 31 Jul 2005 10:48:00 +0000

The park is filled. Strollers on the pathways. Children running in the fern valley, chasing pedigree dogs. Huskies panting. The evening sun sets on symphony lake. All gathered in this green oasis. The birds flit from tree to tree, chirping the end of day. Life grasping at meaning within parameters. Only in this green city park, can manicured relief make us believe there's still life in this city, some measure of liberty as children run free from tree to tree. And adults sit on clean spreads sipping tea. It's dark and we return to our cubes, and look forward to monday like lambs returning to fences. we know we're safe on this side.

Of Steaks and Stakes

noreply@blogger.com (Bim) — Sun, 10 Jul 2005 14:33:00 +0000

We're counting down to the number of weekends we have left before the baby comes. To celebrate the end of another quiet weekend, I had the burning desire to have steak with a glass of red wine. R made tomatoes layered with cheese, and finished up the Chinese cabbage we had left from the night before. And then, to cap it all off, R took a photo with her new Fujifilm F10. Yes, her bday gift, of sorts =)

About the steak first ... steaks are sinfully easy to make, provided you have the right kind of fresh meat to begin with. This is where AAF is such a blessing -- yes, Australian Air-Flown, baby! We grabbed two chunky stirloin slabs from Cold Storage (NTUC doesn't stock up beef for some strange reason). I took them home, marinated them with olive, pepper, a lil salt, and just before I fling them into the hot wok, sprinkle sugar sparingly onto both sides. Sugar?! Yes, Sugar. It helps brown it and a little sweetness is always appreciated. =) ... The heat of the wok has to be hot, real hot, so it sears the sides of meat and keeps the juice (i.e. blood) firmly trapped within, boiling and cooking the meat inside out...mmmm... *ok, for those of you who just came from R's cyberspot, I'm not one to give measurements for my cooking -- huff!*

As for the camera, it's amazing how much time we spent on Steve Digicam, and DC Review, Digital Photography, etc etc, just comparing pictures taken with various digicams from Sony, Cannon, Olympus, Fuji, Pentax... heck! Even Creative is getting into the action! It's amazing how much information one can find on the web, and the amount of (anal) details you can find, including the favourite toys the reviewers use esp for their macro shots. Mind boggling ... After more than 300 minutes of surfing, we finally decided we needed a field test. And we ended up going for the Fujifilm F10 for its excellent low-light and macro shots --> perfect for capturing the burnt garlic on my steak =)

Oh yes, I did put "Stakes" in the title for some reason which slips my mind at the moment. Guess it rhymes. And that's reason enough.

Onward Days! Come Blessed Monday! Just 40 X 365 X 24 hours to go ....

Missing Time & The Terrors of HR

noreply@blogger.com (Bim) — Sun, 03 Jul 2005 10:27:00 +0000

It's really easy to let time slip. Between one moment of consciousness and the next, days, months, years squeeze in. Taking a pause, looking back, it's amazing how "unexamined" we had let life run its course.

Last entry in April, and what a world change Jul is in comparison. As evident from Ruth's belly bulge, we're firmly in her third trimester and Daniel is no longer that "blip" on the scan, but a real-life pair of legs itching for a good kick. That means sleepless nights for Ruth (and I), and strange aches that won't go away ("Dear, I think he's kicking my stomach/lungs/heart/kidney/intestine...."). In God's divine goodness, as Adrian puts it, we're being prepared for parenthood.

Fortunately, we did manage to sneak away in May to Bali. We did the Alila two faces of Bali thing -- it was really really nice. Guilty nice. Nice, as in, wow surely there's a better way to spend God's money than indulge in this.

To drive home the point, a monkey pulled my glasses out of my face during our visit to Tanah Lot, as if to say that I am not seeing quite clearly enough -- might as well not do with those glasses.

As with most holidays, there was a lot of "dying" involved. Dying to my selfish desire to see the world, at the cost of yanking my poor wife around the globe. Dying to my belief that a holiday is a "necessity" when it really doesn't quite figure in God's plan. Dying to the exotic, because the exotic things will pale in comparison to Glory.

So bye bye holidays .... =(

Of course, there was the "Birthday" thing end May. I wanted things to be different this time. Usually, one is on the receiving end for birthdays, but I thought it would be nice to be on the giving end instead. So that was what we did. We made dinner, invited friends over, and gave them all pressies instead of taking them. It felt really good. Suggest you try it.

June was a bit of blur because of church camp. And church camp was a bit of blur because there was just so much to take in. Work cropped up again and again in conversations and thought. Rather "careerism" did. Dr Vanderpool, from Wellesley College, wrote a wonderful article about it back in 1975 (yep, the year I was born). And it remains as relevant today, in America and in Singapore. God has nothing against Work -- after all, he did work pretty hard for six days out of seven (hmm... does that make the five-day work week a cop-out?). But what he abhors is when Work becomes an Idol, and that's what careerism is all about. We become defined by the Work we do.

A typical conversational opener -- "so what do you do?" -- gets answered by a career. Isn't that allowing our Work to define us? How many of us actually say, "Oh, I'm a Christian." That's what defines us and our Work. Hard teaching this is, but a necessary one against the wonders of human resource management that is so polished, it's turned us into Pavlovian idolators, waiting for the next promotion/increment, etc ... feeding our greed (another idol). The next time your boss asks you to work for that promotion, just say "Woof!!"

I really hope the lessons will stick like leeches on my conscience, healing the sore and rot that these "evil days" bring along.

Looking ahead, I hope to post Daniel's picture soon =) ... in the meantime, Ruth and I are hoping to find a suitable means to record his birth. If you've a working video cam to loan us, do drop us a note.

noreply@blogger.com (Bim) — Tue, 19 Apr 2005 10:33:00 +0000

5 months into the pregnancy, Baby Daniel proudly shows us his manhood in a 30 min scan at SGH. This is Daniel. I know this sounds like paternal pride coming in real early, but I dare say he's got a handsome head and lovely features =) .... well, at least he doesn't have his dad's trademark hainanese flat head. He was raising his arms several times during his scan, and sat comfortably on his bum. At times, I can almost feel he turning away from the the little prodding from the scanning shyly. Ruth asked if I felt happier that it was a boy. I don't think that it is a fair question -- I'd be equally happy if it was a girl. Just that now, we can finally call "it" with a proper name, Daniel Lau. =)