The Old Life vs. The New Life

The old life was documented, at times painfully and cringe-worthily, here:

http://www.ellyfernoaks.blogspot.com and here: http://ellyfernoaks.diaryland.com

I am learning not to be embarrassed by it. It was, though sad to say, me.. what I was makes me what I am today.

No I am no stranger to blogging... Have blogged on and off for more than 10 years now. It feels different however. Is it because I am older now or simply that there are too many considerations?... probably both.

In the old life, I never hesitated to include full names, disclose actual feelings and often in more colourful terms than necessary. I wrote with no misgivings that it can and will possibly hurt another person. I wrote freely and i do not regret it. When you do not think... the actual act is always easier. I must however write with new complications and new challenges chained to my will to spill again ... that is the way it must be and for the longest time it confounds me and keeps me from starting to blog again.

I suppose blogging is made more difficult now.. my life revolve mainly around work (which I know better than to leak details into cyberspace) and personal issues which I care not to divulge.

OK I will write again... I will throw aside the excuse of writer's block in favour of it being another challenge I must conquer. After all, writing like everything else (being embarrassed by your past included) requires practice.

Resurrection

Is there any better time to start writing again than a quiet boring afternoon, when the sheer idea of your own mortality turns all your thoughts into little self absorbed cyclones you claim to be "introspective"?

If there is such a time for resurrecting my half baked writing skills...This is not quite it.

If...however, there is that perfect moment for self absorbed twitter... here it is.

Strange

The funny thing about the whole self help movement and the management gurus are that they all have their own 2 cents worth to chip in about something, they all have different ways to solve a problem which they claim is the best way move my cheese dammit and the elephant ate the frog but at the same time, they all agree with each other's bull...

C'mon man, somebody's gotta be wrong.

the journey

I feel empty. No happiness nor sorrow. Caught in this in between emotion. There is nothing I want that makes any practical sense. Perhaps my mind and heart are at odds... bending my perceptions, creating a void. I feel more mortal than ever... the impending end to this journey weights heavily. Have I done enough? Have I been brave enough? Have I loved enough? Dared enough? Have I cried enough? Laughed enough? Failed enough? Succeed enough? If I leave this very day... Have I done enough? tried hard enough?

It bothers me that I can't answer these questions.

Christmas Eve

Just trying to do the best one can. Perhaps there is never a good enough.

Merry? Christmas.

2008- Still Functioning

It's one day before Christmas eve and the office sits quiet like just before the invigilator says "OK pens down". I'm sucked into an endless hum... (or maybe it's just the air con...). The phones are not ringing and I haven't had a single email all day. K's on leave and D's gone to Bali... My bosses are busy getting ready for Christmas with their family. I'm sitting here blogging.

The year is trickling to an end and there's no way to stop time so I'm just rolling with it. Looking back at all the drama around the world this past year, I think I did okay. I hope things will get better for everyone come 2009. I try to remember the highlights of 2008 in my personal life but I can't think of any. the word is... it was all okay. And I am glad.

Boredom tires one as easily or more so as an active day. Boredom in a year? Exhausting. But I really can't think of any complains. I am feeling functional, but just that. Nothing exciting.

2008 is the year I decided not to seek another job, the year I decided that money and being "with it" is less important to me than I thought it was. So now I'm not cool and I'm penniless. 2008 is the year I welcome Rae and Sippy Straw into my life. I already know they are tightening their little fingers/paws around my heart. What a strange and wondrous feeling! 2008 is the year we dropped Dino into the abyss and I'm still wondering about the idiot even though I know I shouldn't. 2008 was a year of happy routines and cutting out unhappiness.

On a side note...I went to JB last Sunday. I have not make it a point to see my paternal grandma as much as I should. I guess it has to do with the fact that I spent the whole day sitting in the same room and not speaking to her! Horrible am I not? It is not that I don't care, I just don't have much to say. So I hugged her several times. It seems like we are separated by years of awkwardness. So much so that the room becomes stifling and I feel like an imbecile. I cut the awkwardness with hugs. That's all I can do. Be there and be huggable. I am a dull child. Probably always have been.

I'm going to meet K and her baybeesh in abit. Maybe I'll have more to say tomorrow...

Mothering

It is a topic that I will have to think about sooner or later. Not because I'm feeling especially clucky, but rather because I'm at the expected biological age, in this society anyway. So it is with little coincidence that I'm surrounded by a bevy of new mothers. This year alone the tally is at 4 or is it 5? It is a lovely feeling, meeting these fresh faces, little fingers and toes. Even the smell a top their miniature heads remind me of soft linens and care bear clouds...very nice indeed. Yes it is wonderful being surrounded by these warm little bellies and elven gurgling. And it is even more wonderful that I leave them with their mothers and go back home to my own furry balls of endless joy. I am relief to be spared the barely dawn milk sucklers, to be spared the wrath of a tiny human with needs greater than my own. A child will be a mini me. And one of me is puzzling enough.

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The topic of being a good mother presented itself today. Now this isn't really my area of expertise, but if I was qualified I will want to say this...(I think it is all the same for fathers too)

What is a good mother? A mother is unique to her children. She is their finger print. A good mother may not produce good children. She raises well adjusted ones.

We are not all born to have nurturing qualities expectant of a parent, but sometimes we do become one. What happens then?

A good mother tries to communicate with her child. Be it 2, 15, 20 years of age... if you can communicate with your child, you will understand better what they need. Remember that they are another being altogether. Why feel guilty for not being able to read them? They are just another human being, with their own uniqueness. Feel guilty if you don't take time to understand their individual needs. A good mother listens (to her children), even if she is by far the worse listener. And if they have yet to speak? Actions are often louder than words. (I got this from taking time to understand what Xann wants and it is very rewarding!) Patience.

A good mother is an influence on her child. Your little human bean relies you as the very first basic example. They may like or dislike your ways but there will always be a slight imprint of you in them, and it may not be just your nose! It can be your beliefs or how you speak to strangers or simply the way you cut your capsicums. You never know what their little bean brains are picking up.

(Stopped to watch TV with Del. Very important routine- Monday nights 30 Rock and Torchwood.)

A good mother love unconditionally. You may not like the way they chew their nails. You may resent their partners or the way they insist upon one hapless job after another. But you care for them nevertheless and you never criticize their choices in life before you learn to understand why they were made. When the time comes for you to admit that you don't understand those decisions, you agree to disagree.

A good mother recognizes the essential best for their child is health and happiness as it is the basic necessity for any human being. As a good mother, you know you are good when your child seek you out specifically, for comfort, for affirmation, for a listening ear, even when they are a full grown bean.

A good mother doesn't shield their child from the harsh realities of life, but equips them with the capabilities to deal with terrors and disappointments. A good mother is a best friend who can frankly point out the child's disabilities but can give unwavering support in that same instance. Assurance.

A good mother does not stop being a human being with her own set of needs and her own set of weaknesses. A mother is just a grown up human bean doing the best for her child. A human bean that was once a small bean. A unique bean.

But I am not a mother, and I am not qualified to actually make these statements. But when I do become one, it will be wonderful to be even half what my mother is.

I will be having dinner with her tomorrow. I am excited!


(I've lost my train of thought when watching TV. Torchwood Ep 8 or 9 - very good episode! Now I'm tired. Bedtime.)