Hector's adventures

I love books - buying books. In fact, I have quite a large collection of books at home, in my study and in my office. I must admit that I buy books faster than I can finish reading them. My older son is a much more accomplished reader - the number of books that he reads simply amazes me. I am impressed by his interest in books. In a way, he motivates me to read the many books that I own.

There are not many bookstores in Singapore so my options for places to browse for books are not very many. In fact, it is more likely to find me buried in books in Kinokuniya than shopping for dresses and accessories. About two years' ago, I picked up a couple of books in Kinokuniya and stood in line, waiting for my turn to be served by the illustrious-looking staff. The queue was quite long as the store was having one of her ever-so-often 20% discount offers for their rather over-priced books. I tried to entertain myself by observing the people streaming into the store, eagerly selecting books that they probably will not have time to read. But you know how consumerism is - discount offers means you have to buy something!

There was a bookshelf strategically placed on my right with recommended novels, a little like the shelves of candies and chocolates, which are located just at the checkout counters in a supermarket. I quickly scanned through the shelves of books and there was a book that immediately caught my eye. Have you ever had the experience of shopping and a particular item grabs your attention, as if it's crying out to you "Buy me!"? The men who are reading this are probably already rolling their eyes up and thinking to themselves, “That only happens to women”. Anyhow, I am not in a debate about gender differences here, but I am pretty sure that this happens to many of us, perhaps not all, but definitely to some. This thin paperback novel sat snuggly in between some other chunkier-looking novels, just about my eye-level, which is not very high, considering my height (or lack of!).

Hector and the search for happiness. I am usually sceptical about such titles. What is happiness anyway? Can anybody really define it? There are many books authored by people who think they have the key to happiness but I am certainly not convinced. However, at that point in time, I could not resist the colourful title and a cute little cartoon of Hector carrying a bunch of balloons. I reached out to take a look at the book from where I was standing in the queue and read, “Once upon a time there was a young psychiatrist called Hector who was not very satisfied with himself… And so he decided to take a trip around the world, and everywhere he went he would try to understand what made people happy or unhappy.”

As the queue was moving steadily, I had to think on my feet, literally, “To buy, or not to buy”. Clearly, you know what my decision was.

That was the beginning of my journey with Hector. I read the second book “Hector and the secrets of love”. Then, I read the third book “Hector finds time”. The third book is my all-time favourite because time afflicts all. In the pessimistic sense, we are all at the mercy of time – we can neither make it go faster nor slow it down. We can only decide how we want to spend the time but once it is gone, we cannot retrieve it. I realised that as I grow older, I am more careful with my time, how I make use of it, what I do with it and whom I share it with. In the novel, Hector described life as a roll of fabric. When you are younger, the fabric seems like an endless roll and you can make countless numbers of outfits. There will come a time in your life when you will realise that the roll of fabric is finite and you have to be more cautious about how you use the fabric and be more particular about the types of outfits you choose to make.

It was my birthday last Saturday – the time of the year again. Since I reached my mid-thirties last year, I became more aware that my roll of fabric has an end. I looked back at the year and examined the outfits I have made. It is like doing an annual work review except that this time, I am the boss, scrutinising various aspects of life in the past year. I seem to have accomplished quite a lot and made a number of achievements during the course of the year as well. “There will always be room for improvement”, says the perfectionist part of me. But for the most part of it, I am rather pleased with myself.

I recalled the last two lines of a blog entry I wrote a year ago:

“And in the end, it’s not the years in your life that count. It’s the life in your years.” – Abraham Lincoln

I am going to make the life in my years count.

I feel that the quote is a really useful and helpful mantra to make sure that I am mindful of how I live my life. When we become busy and consumed by a-thousand-and-one things to do, it is easy to lose sight of the important things that matter in our lives.

A year has gone by so quickly. Did my life in that year count? I have done a lot but did it count? It is interesting to reflect on my life in this way because it does not imply that doing a lot is doing something meaningful. It does not mean that those acts and activities influence and affect others in a positive way. I cannot be certain unless I survey all the people who have crossed my path to obtain some kind of feedback. However, real life does not quite work this way so I can only try my best and intuitively sense reactions from the people around me to gauge how I am doing.

I shall conclude this blog entry by showing appreciation to my choir friends from ONE. If you have been following my posts, you will notice that I mention the choir every now and then. They have become a significant part of my life since I joined them in April last year. When you spend a couple of hours every Saturday with the same group of people, they start to grow on you. In some unfortunate cases, the interactions become tense and estranged. But such negativity is certainly not the case with ONE. They are like my extended family members. On my good days, they are a fun-loving bunch of people who have a superb sense of humour whose company meant loads of laughter, jokes and enthusiastic spontaneity. On my lousy days, I receive concerned text messages, encouraging remarks, comforting hugs and just pure company to get me through bad times.

This year, I had the most special birthday celebration with my choir friends. It was just meant to be a casual dinner with some of them after the usual Saturday practice. But the casual gathering became a larger gathering – thanks to Facebook’s notifications, many of them were prompted that it was my birthday and they joined in to have dinner together. I am not into elaborate birthday parties so I was happy to enjoy their company for the evening.

We were in the restaurant for some time and I noticed that a queue was forming outside so I asked for the bill. This was when they surprised me by singing the birthday song as the waiter brought the cake with a lighted candle. My face reddened with embarrassment because there were so many people, yet at the same time, I felt touched and moved. I felt loved. I felt enormously thankful for their presence in my life. The best part about having a birthday song sang by choir friends is that you know for sure that the song will be in tune. In fact, they even sung it in harmony and did a rendition in Mandarin as well! How cool is that!

For the coming year, I would like to continue to make my life in years count. I would like to make it count by showing kindness to people around me because this is the one chance in my life to do so.

“I expect to pass through life but once. If therefore, there be any kindness I can show, or any good thing I can do to any fellow being, let me do it now, and not defer or neglect it, as I shall not pass this way again.” – William Penn

The human voice

"Food doesn't tempt you. Shopping doesn't tempt you. Then what tempts you?" Shermaine asked me.

"I am a very emotional person. I get tempted by emotions. Anything that moves me."

Shermaine's question set me thinking - what really tempts me? It is quite a strange question because food and shopping seem to be common preoccupations for fellow Singaporeans. However, it does not really interest me very much. As I ponder a little more, I came to realise that singing in a choir tempts me.

My relationship with singing goes a long way back to the time when I was a child. No, I never took voice classes nor was I a prodigy singer. I recall my mother singing lullabies to my sister when she was a baby. I am sure she sang them to me when I was a baby but I do not have that in my conscious memory. Nevertheless, I remember many songs, nursery rhymes and the sound of my mother's voice throughout my childhood years. Although my mother is not one who expresses her love and affection openly, I can certainly sense it from her actions and the soothing tone of her voice when she sings. That is how singing connects to me - it keeps me feeling warm and fuzzy, and very much close to home.

When I was fourteen, I joined the school choir and discovered my love for choral singing. First of all, I am thankful that I have a gift and talent in singing and this has given me an opportunity to use this part of myself to produce music. The special thing about the human voice is that, it is a part of each and everyone of us. I bring this voice, this instrument, everywhere I go. Of course I can sing as a soloist, which I do from time to time. But I much prefer to do so with a group of singers.

There is no voice that is completely identical, maybe similar, but each one is different, distinct and unique. The tone and quality belongs to the person who owns the voice and has the characteristic of his or her personality. We can try to imitate or emulate another person but that will no longer be ours and will not be representative of who we are. The special thing about singing in a choir is the bringing together of many individual voices to create music.

After I graduated from University, I took a hiatus from the choral scene due to work commitments and devoting my time to caring for my children as a young mother. I was fairly out of touch with singing as a chorister but I knew that deep down inside, I was itching to sing in a choir. A year ago, Dawn, a lovely friend of mine, gently nudged me to audition to sing in ONE, a choir which she actively sang in. I was tempted. I was tempted for some time after hearing them sing at a concert the previous year. I did not take too long to contemplate about it and soon, I found myself singing regularly with the choir on Saturday afternoons.

This summer, I travelled to Portugal to perform with ONE and gained several insights about choral singing. We did not always have proper venues for our practices so we would sing in the park or in random public spaces. Of course, this attracted attention from passers-by and sometimes, they would stop and listen, perhaps mistakenly thinking that we were performing for them. At the end of each song, we would be encouraged by their applause. I realised that there is no performance without an audience - this is our symbiotic relationship. There is no such thing as an audience if there is no show to watch!

"The aim of art is to represent not the outward appearance of things, but their inward significance." - Aristotle

The next question that came to mind was - what constitutes a good performance? Is it a choral piece which is made up of complex harmonies and sophisticated rhythms? Is it done by trained singers, led by a reputable conductor? Sure, these will produce excellent music and possibly a perfect performance but a good performance must have heart. A good performance must have soul. Without which, a choir will not be able to reach out to the audience and they will not be moved. The audience will experience "eargasm" without feeling or emotion.

How is a choir supposed to have that heart and soul?

The choir must exists as a single entity. Neither the members nor the conductor can be individualistic or self-centred. I recognise that we are each unique and different individuals but when we sing, that musical mosaic must demonstrate a tapestry of music which reflects our love for one another and our relationship as a choir. There must be mutual trust and respect. This way, the choir will have a life of its own, with a heart and a soul.

The choir is very human. We have good days and bad days. There are times when we feel good about ourselves, when we are in high spirits, when we feel connected with one another - then we sing well, we are able to bring joy to the audience, they can feel the music. They will become inspired. When we are feeling under the weather, out of sorts, unhappy and disconnected, the audience will sense the dissonance. They will not be moved. Where music is concerned, I feel that one has to be passionate but not tensed. Tension will prevent the music from flowing and the sound will come out too hard or perhaps, even overbearing. Being too self-critical and having self-doubt or too high expectations of oneself are likely to create that tension in your voice and these aspects of yourself may hold back the music in you which you would like to convey to the world.

Good music is not about perfection but about true sincerity. That is what the audience want to experience - a heartfelt, sincere performance.

"Live to create love, art, music, peace and poetry. Bring to the world what no one else has and find passion in it." - Robert Tew

[This piece of writing is dedicated to my fellow choristers in ONE and of course our choral director, Ms Lim Ai Hooi. The music from the choir has touched me and the sincerity of each individual member has moved me. I must say that the past year with ONE has been an enriching and life-changing period of my life and the trip to Portugal is certainly a highlight of my life. Thank you to each and everyone of you!]