I’m Offended & It’s Glorious

When my family goes out to eat together, we stack our phones in the middle of the table. Anybody who reaches out to it first has to pay for the meal.

Absolutely no phones allowed during meal times outside. It’s basic mannerisms to us. You use your phone, you’re saying you don’t want to be there, you don’t like the company, or you have other things better to do. Our family does not allow that. In the house when we eat our phones are upstairs, and we will be discussing stuff about life or work. We hardly discuss our feelings and other people….because we understand what feelings are and that other people feel things too.

I forgot the latter for a few hours. I took offense when a person right in front of me for dinner I was trying to engage in a conversation with yet it’s as if we’re on a different table in a different location. The person was distant, unfriendly, and I didn’t really want to be in a place with somebody who preferred texting someone on the phone over actual human connections. I am here, but your eyeballs are on pixels. Offensive!

A Stranger Got Sick

Some time ago I was at a surau at my prayer mat to pray when I instinctively turned around to find a young teenage girl looking down at her pool of stomach contents. I watched her mom roll her eyes at her and left her just like that. My mother was a perfectionist woman who gave me that look whenever I did something wrong as a child too. The look that only heightened fear and diminished any sense of real confidence in a person. I did not want the cycle to go on.

Immediately I abandoned my praying intentions and rushed to the alone girl with my bag. I’m known as Doraemon in my family, so my bag has everything. Lots and lots of tissues I offered her and even helped her push the spew away from other people who were there to pray. We covered it with tissues. She looked confused, alone, and I can probably tell, sad.

“Are you having a headache?” I asked.

She nodded solemnly, and I offered her a mint. I happened to have a paper bag and I opened it up and taught her to scoop up her vomit (using the lots and lots of tissues) into the bag.

Her mother returned with a cleaner and pointed it to the cleaner, and she brought her daughter to the washing area where she gave her daughter another lecture. I think she briefly thanked me (or didn’t, I remember the girl saying thank you quietly though). They left, and the cleaner mopped the floor. The girl and I had picked up 90% of the gag.

There I was, about to pray, but went to clean up a stranger’s vomit instead.

I Don’t Remember

I honestly don’t remember the last time I felt really sad or mad.

I know I won’t be anymore, because I understand where my feelings are coming from.

That’s my plan. To share what I know with more people. Have psychological freedom.

Your psyche, your mind, everything you see, whatever that happens to you, actually comes from your psychology.

The body you have is the result of what you eat, and what you eat depends on your “mood” or “feelings”. What you see, the circumstances and how you perceive or interpret it too is based on your psychology.

I know I am psychologically free.

It really is a blissful feeling.

I’ve had days where I contemplated jumping off my apartment window. I remember sitting on the edge, door locked, and calculating the risks. Just a few years ago I believed everybody hated me and that I didn’t ask to be born in this world. I lived through days waiting to die. And died on the inside while living in the outside world. Everybody else “in the world” seemed to support how I felt about myself.

Not anymore. 99% of whomever I come across are very helpful, are so very lovely to me. The 1% I understand where they’re coming from and I don’t take offense/take anything personally when they’re not being nice to me.

It’s not saying I don’t have problems. I still don’t live in abundance luxury and haven’t bought new clothes in three months. I think about that Subway sandwich and sometimes they do look expensive. From time to time I wonder if I’m able to do this or that. I still doubt myself. What I can do and what I cannot.

But they don’t rob bliss off me. They cannot.

They can pinch a bit of bliss, but I know it’s a pinch and I can slap its hand off my bliss. It’s as easy as that.

I want you to know how I know what to do, and so I am holding a short workshop to share with you what I’ve been searching seventeen years for.

Connection Workshop

I’m going to let this post sit like this unedited, as it captures/captured my raw thoughts in the moment. Thanks and hope to see you at my workshop 🙂

Touch The Human Need

Yesterday evening I had to meet someone at Puteri Harbour and along the way, I saw throngs of foreign men in construction hats and safety vests walking into the woodland.

Managed to see container houses in between the bushes. I looked into the distance and saw magnificent skyscrapers enhancing the evening red sky. An irony; labelling this city “world class”, “education hub” blah blah while the ones who carry the heavy iron and ironing out the sketched ideas live in container houses.

I want to hug all of them.

Today I accompanied my parents to the morning market. I don’t enjoy getting up on a Sunday morning to go out, but once I’m out it’s really no biggie. I love watching people at the morning market.

The morning market or Malay word is “Pasar Pagi” or sometimes it’s called “Pasar Tani” (Farmer’s market) is where farmers sell their goods there. I highly doubt that they grew the vegetables themselves but whatever. Counterfeit watches and electronics. My dad buys his bottle of honey there every Sunday and will come home every time to test the authenticity of his honey. I’d rather just spend at a mall. What’s enjoyable to me is watching people at the morning market. Another kind of charm.

Love and Friendship

I think we’re misunderstanding love.

Love to me is a space inside of you that you keep clean, off all judgement, negativity, hatred, about another person. When you understand that everybody has something else in their minds, a reason for them to act on impulse or why they do what they do, then you’d find yourself incapable of hating or disliking them. In that way, I honestly say I love everybody. Don’t send more hatred to a person who already fills his world with it.

There’s my security guard who gets excited when he sees me. I drove and waved at him, thankful that he would want to share his smile with me, making my drives out of my neighbourhood so much more pleasant. I chose to live there because of the beautiful view, but I believe now it’s the security guards that make it so lovely.

Thank you.

On my way to a business meeting, I drove to my mechanic in my old vicinity (about 20 minutes drive away) where I feel this space of love again. It’s just already there. Sometimes you can feel it, sometimes you don’t. Who I would like to be this space of love, peace, and comfort for everyone. The mechanic was happy to see me too, as I was happy to see him. My parents think it’s because I’m a woman, but I honestly don’t think it’s because of that. Half of the world is women! If it’s true that women make men happy, then all men should be happy.

Chemical Imbalance and The Mind-Bicycle Balance

I look at my siblings and feel the urge to pinch them. Use my index finger and thumb to grab hold of their flesh, and then twist it 360 degrees. I imagine the satisfaction. That’s what you get for being so annoying! And a gritting feeling formed around my jaws, my gums, and my teeth. I need to bite. I want to bite to release this uneasiness in my oral cavity. My adult brother sat next to me. I announced, “I WANT TO BITE YOU” and I sunk my teeth into his arm. Yuck, you smell, I said and I pushed him away from me. He laughed. No satisfaction I got from biting him either, since he does a lot of arm exercises and has more muscle than flesh.

My teenage sister I look at her and stories began forming in my head. She’s so irritating! If only her boyfriend knew she was like this he wouldn’t even want to be with her. The stories went on some more. What if the guy appeared smart and handsome on the outside but after marriage it turned out he didn’t have the habit of flushing after toilet use? Yuck! I don’t ever want to get married.

Moses VS Pharoah

Came across a Facebook post I thought was interesting. Well, interesting enough for me to want to write this post. It goes like this:

A preacher asked his audience:

“If you were in Moses and Pharoah’s time, whose follower would you be?”

“Moses, no doubt!” his audience responded.

“Are you sure?”

They were very sure, they echoed.

I Already Know

Have you experienced trying to tell someone something and the response would be “I already know,” but the person appears to behave in ways that he or she doesn’t know what you’re talking about?

Wait, do you get what I mean? I hope you do.

You try to explain something and the person replies with “I know I know I know I know” but responds with the direct opposite. Let’s say you say “Buy tickets from the main website itself,” and the person responds with “I know,” but goes on to buy it from an agent?

You try to explain that you had an insight and the person yawns and says “I’ve known about this a long time ago.”

Or are you the one who says “I already know,” the moment someone tries to tell you something? I’m guilty of that one time too many. Which is also partly why I get bored easily. That because I’ve read so many books (hurhur) and listened to many people talk, I already ‘know’ what they’re going to say. Which is partly true, but it will not make me smarter.

Many years ago I sat in my first class at University of Spiritual Healing and Sufism in California and I felt uncomfortable. They were talking about pillars of Islam and what it meant. These things I already knew! What did I pay so much to come to attend a lesson on things I already knew?! I was hoping that I could skip this basics class and go to an advanced class.

Immediately after the class I approached the professor and cautiously told him, “But Dr Laird, I think I already know all these.”

Dealing with Depression

I woke up thinking how much of a nobody I am. I have nothing to my name at all, and I stared at my reflection blinking, wondering if I’m going to change that at all. What do I want in this world? What do I want to do? Even at 24 with a book out, I still am clueless. Am I depressed? I don’t think so. It’s just that sometimes we have moments where we feel down, sometimes we feel up. I’m not a plateau. I am a vibrant, rhythamic wave of life (I hope). It’s okay.

The other day I randomly bought carpets to prepare for Ramadhan (terawih etc must be comfortable, you know), as our carpets have worn out, and then I went on restaurant hopping, pizza-delivery every other day, and even decided to just sit through a movie on my own (I don’t really watch movies). I think doing these made me wonder if there’s anything more I want to do with my life, I mean, apart from writing and writing. Do I want to ….settle?

Maybe it’s also because for the past few days I keep hearing about people about my age’s death. Oh well.

Here’s a random story:

I have a friend who’s divorced with a child. He’s been single for…four or five years? Maybe? I have no idea. His friend, who is much older, asked him how did he cope with divorce. He said he understood what his friend was feeling. That it really is a lonely process, where you come home, all those years expecting to find a wife in there, but you look around and find nobody. That was the side I’d never seen of him.

“Is it like the death of someone?” I asked.

My Advice To Young People

Ha, ha ha, ha, ha, at the title.

I don’t believe in giving advice. I believe in anecdotes, though, to tell you a story about what happened to me when I was in a similar situation. Some might link that to advice, but to me I’m just sharing a story. It’s up to you how you want to take it.

But if there’s any “advice” I would give to “young” people, I do have one. It’s more of an encouragement than it is an advice, actually. And I shall begin with a story.

When I was 17, done with my secondary school, completely on my own, I was sent to a hill in California to learn about spirituality. I do know that I come from a line of mystics and spiritual people, but you know these kinds of things aren’t inherited by blood. Spiritual conscience is something you have to wake yourself up to do. I can’t rely on my dead ancestors to help me.