Magical powers

I must admit that I am a Harry Potter fan. I diligently read all seven books - pre-ordered the books, but never resorted to queuing overnight to be the first ones to get my hands on the books. I watched all eight movies as well, and intend to get the entire movie series as part of my prized possessions.

I have always been intrigued by magic as a child. It is extremely fascinating to be able to magically transform objects, people, make things disappear, make them fly and so many other miraculous possibilities. I wished I had magical powers too. To use a little magic to help me with my work, to make me a better therapist, to give that extra special touch to take away my clients' emotional pain and hurt. Sigh... This only happens in storybooks and movies, not in real life.

Whenever I do not know what to do to help my clients, I secretly wish for a little help from a fairy godmother - yes, those childhood fairytale fantasies. I have high expectations of myself, just like the girls I work with. I try very hard with my cases, thinking of the best ways to engage my clients and to facilitate change. Thankfully, I get positive affirmations often and am assured that I am somewhat helpful and effective for my clients. Even when the sessions seem to go well, I may be hard on myself and wish that I could have done better, that I could have done more, that i should not have said certain things or that I was just not good enough as a counsellor.

I find it amusing when I think of myself this way - "not good enough", sounds just like the self-critic of the girls I work with. Perhaps this is my self-critic that I have to "battle" with from time to time as well. During my training in emotion-focused therapy, I dealt with my self-critic and learnt that I need more kindness and compassion towards myself. My clients need that too, more kindness and compassion towards themselves.

There was a case that I was rather distressed about because I wanted to be able to assist in some way but it became clear that I was not in the position to do so. I struggled with the sense of helplessness and many people around me felt helpless too. They could not help the client and they hoped that the counsellor would be able to help the client. You can imagine the tremendous pressure that I was under, to do something to help the client. In situations like these, I wish I had some wizardry powers, Harry Potter's wand or Hermione's fancy spells so that I can do something to make the emotional pain go away!

In actual fact, I do not think the people around have such expectations of me. They are my own, unreasonable expectations of my omnipotent ability, that I do not possess. After several consultations with other counsellors and psychiatrists about the case, I realised that I can only do this much to help my client with her problem. Whether she improves or not, it is really not within my control. I have done my best and the rest is up to her.

I am not the all-powerful. I am not omnipotent. I am only human. That's a good reminder for me. A very good reminder.

"Everyone has obstacles, and you're not going to have the right answer or do the right thing every single time." - Shannon Miller

The voice of an adolescent

When I was doing my counselling training in 2006, I was introduced to an interesting mode of therapy. Instead of the usual one-to-one sessions, we can work with a small group of clients in a group setting. The modality of this approach, known as group therapy, has its unique advantages and benefits, which cannot be achieved in individual therapy. Despite its usefulness, it is quite unheard of in this part of the world where I practice since our Asian clients tend to find it anxiety-provoking to share their innermost thoughts and feelings within a group setting. Actually, I feel that this is probably not very different from the hesitations and inhibitions of people from other countries and cultures as well. Generally, once a certain level of safety and trust is established within the group, the group will feel more comfortable about sharing and engaging each other.

I took the opportunity to propose setting up such groups among certain groups of girls in the school I work in. Since this was a new initiative, I was uncertain about its efficacy and whether the approach will be too strange or foreign for them. For a start, I did not call it a therapy group and I designed it to have a slightly more semi-structured approach, which I felt would be a better fit.

During the first session, a particular theme arose among the fifteen-year old girls within the group as they attempted to have a voice, to have their voice heard.

“Never be bullied into silence. Never allow yourself to be made a victim. Accept no one’s definition of your life; define yourself.”
– Harvey Fierstein

Initially, I wanted to use this quote to inspire the girls but I realised that it was extremely difficult for them to find their voice and how they would like to define themselves. I had apparently forgotten how difficult it was for me when I was that age. As they search out the meaning of their lives, to discover what they truly desire for themselves, they are bombarded by the voices of adults - through their parents, relatives, teachers, politicians, various other adults and even the media and numerous propaganda. I say bombarded because these voices are really loud, significant, distracting and possibly even jarring at times. The girls become confused and wonder if they can really be the person they choose to be. Do they have a choice? Do they have a say? Did I have a say when I was fifteen?

When I was fifteen, I was studying in one of the elite girls’ school. My parents expected no less than that. My sisters and I studied in different high schools - all among the top all-girls’ schools in the nation. My father wished for us to be doctors, lawyers, engineers or accountants. These were considered reputable professional careers, which will give us a comfortable income and a respectable social status. At that time, I thought that my father would be proud if I became a doctor but when I failed to obtain the subject combination which included biology, I decided to give up the idea of pursuing a medical career. I was not sure if the other approved options fit my aspirations. I was interested in people, in human psychology. I talked about it from time to time, never sounding too adamant nor insistent because I was not sure if my voice would be heard, whether my father would approve of the pursuit of such an interest.

One girl in the group lamented that her mother insisted that she has to be a lawyer. “I don't really mind becoming a lawyer, but I wish my mum did not bug me so much.”

“My parents are the same,” another girl added. “I want to be a dancer but my parents don't think I can make much money that way. Sigh... I may not be able to make much money but I think I will be much happier since I will be doing something which I truly love.”

As adults, we think we know better. We think we know what is best for these young ladies. Besides, we have a wider range of lived experiences so we are in a much better position to give sound advices (or so we think). We think that it is our responsibility as custodians of their lives, to guide them to a bright and promising future where they will be successful and well-accomplished individuals in society. We prefer to encourage our youth to stick to careers, which are tried-and-tested while the artistic, literary or humanistic professions are often frown upon - not because they are less glamorous but they do not guarantee a stable and secure career.

“This is for your own good,” my father’s favourite line to his three daughters. I resented that dreaded well-sung phrase that kept playing in my ears as an adolescent. I wondered if I would be doing something wrong if I did not appreciate my parents’ well-meaning intentions to guide me to the right path in life. I wondered if I would regret not listening to them if I chose something radically different. What would be really good for me? As a teenager looking at my father, he was a successful engineer who earned enough to provide the family with a comfortable home and lifestyle. Surely, he knew what was good for me, “for your own good”.

“Why can’t my mother listen to me?”

“Why don’t my parents understand that I don’t like numbers and Maths is just not my subject?”

“Can you talk to my parents?”

The girls were frustrated. They felt stuck. They wanted to make their own decisions about their future. Studying felt so meaningless because whatever they were taught will not be relevant to their future career. It did not make sense to memorise all the terms and the lengthy passages just to obtain the perfect GPA of 4.0. Why bother?

When I was in school, life seemed less complicated. We did not question as much. We just studied what we were told to study. Our goal was to obtain as many ‘A’s as we possibly can, to the best of our ability. Then, scramble to collect the paper certifications and qualifications that were deemed valuable and marketable. That was the norm then. I did the norm. I excelled (did well enough, I guess) in Mathematics and Sciences, enrolled into one of the top junior colleges, did the correct thing to major in engineering and of course, became the engineer that my father approved of. I earned myself a nickname then, coined by my sisters – The Accidental Engineer, or AE for short. Engineering never quite resonated with me.

When I decided to make the career switch to become a counsellor, my father was cross. He was extremely angry with me. But he never quite told me directly. It was the old-fashioned Chinese father’s way of communicating to his daughter – convey the anger to the mother and expect that the mother will advise the daughter accordingly.

“Tell Michelle that she is very stupid, to give up her engineering job and get a pay-cut as a counsellor!”

During dinners with relatives and friends, my sisters were always mentioned and talked about. You see, one of them is a qualified medical doctor and the other is pursuing her medical degree. Ah, doctors! The prestigious career option! Counsellor? How much do counsellors get paid? Was this daughter not smart enough to get into medical school?

I felt like the outcast, somewhat a disgrace to the family. I desired affirmation from my parents, which I could not get. I was in a difficult place and I felt very alone in this new endeavour. I yearned for their support and encouragement. I realised that my parents struggled too. On one hand, they wanted to see me happy doing what I enjoy. On the other hand, since it deviated from what they are familiar with, they were unsure if I would be risking too much by forgoing a stable career as an engineer.

My father no longer chides me for quitting my engineering job. My parents have come to terms with my decision. But from time to time, my father would still ask me, “When are you going to do your PhD?” That is my father.

Many parents unknowingly and unwittingly impose their hopes, wishes, dreams, desires and aspirations on their children. They want their children to tread on territories, which they have never been before and attain remarkable and spectacular achievements, which they failed to accomplish as a child. We think that by setting the bar as high as possible, we may be able to stretch them to their fullest potential and be exceptional in anything and everything.

How realistic are our expectations? How much of what we do as adults is really a tussle with our own anxieties? If the adolescent does not do well, we may be seen as a parent who has failed, a lousy teacher, an irresponsible adult who did not do what we should do or can do. We are afraid that our children will struggle to make ends meet or not have a good job if they faired poorly in school. We are worried that they will blame us for not giving them the right advice when they needed it. We fear that society will mock us for not doing our duty if we did not show our children the correct path to take in life.

At the end of the day, each of us is and can only be responsible for our own lives. By the time the child becomes an adolescent, she (also applicable to “he”) needs to develop the skills required as an adult to learn to make her own decisions and decide what she desires for herself and how she wants to live her life. We are here to support and encourage her in her journey of discovery and adventure of life. We are here to facilitate the process, to show her the options and the possibilities. Not to restrict her, nor to stifle her, nor to tell her what to do.

I am not suggesting that the adults let go completely. I am not suggesting that the adolescents defy and disregard everything that the adults say.

This is more like a dance, a tango of sorts.

We play our respective parts.

Then, we allow these youth the autonomy to be the architects and fashioners of their own desired future.

There is no absolute right or wrong in the journey of life because life is not static but a dynamic evolution of the choices and decisions we make. It is how we live our life, which makes it meaningful.

Boys don't cry

“I’m not sure how effective emotion-focused therapy is for working with men since men seem to be less in touch with their emotions during therapy.”

“Yes, I wonder about that too. I was able to get my female client to talk about her emotions but when I asked my male client what he felt, he said that he didn’t know and I was stuck. I found it very difficult to proceed.”

For the past year, I was attending a series of workshops by Dr Leslie Greenberg to learn more about Emotion-Focused Therapy and most of my coursemates shared similar sentiments about the difficulty of working with the emotions of male clients. However, during the past half of decade of working with predominantly male population, I certainly had a different experience of the commonly-held belief about men’s inability to express emotions.

“I tried emotion-focused therapy with some of my male clients and they were able to emote during the sessions. I think that once the rapport is built and there is enough trust in the therapeutic relationship, they will feel comfortable about expressing their emotions and their vulnerabilities.”

Just as Una Stannard, author of “Mrs Man”, said, “Men are no more immune from emotions than women; we think women are more emotional because the culture lets them give free vent to certain feelings, “feminine” ones, that is, no anger please, but it’s okay to turn on the waterworks.”

I remember seeing a little boy playing in the playground and when he accidentally fell down, he started to cry. An adult, presumably his mother, attended to him promptly and instead of comforting him, rebuked him sternly.

“Why are you crying? Stop crying now! Boys don’t cry. Shame, shame.”

It is shameful for boys to cry, apparently. Many people believe so. Generations after generations, parents socialise their sons into believing that boys don’t cry and that it is shameful to cry. Boys should never be seen crying in school because their friends will laugh at them and ridicule them, “What a sissy! Just like a girl!” How humiliating it must be!

It must be tormenting for a male to go through life, suppressing one of the primary emotions of a human being, that is, sadness and pain. He deliberately obliterates this emotion from his vocabulary and instinctively disguises and camouflages it with a more acceptable emotion of anger. This makes him emotionally handicapped although he often perceives himself as being more in control by keeping his sadness in check. In reality, he is in great suffering.

I like the way Antoine de Saint-Exupéry (more popularly known for his book entitled “The Little Prince”) wrote in his novel, Southern Mail, “One’s suffering disappears when one lets oneself go, when one yields – even to sadness.”

Is this just a difficulty experienced by one half of the world’s population?

“Crying is a sign of weakness.”

Karen proclaimed during a recent group session. I was taken aback to hear that from her because I assumed that it is more acceptable for girls to cry. As I was very confident about my assumption, I turned to the other girls in the group, in hope that they may support me to say that they did not agree with Karen.

“What do you think about what Karen just said, that crying is a sign of weakness.”

“I agree with her,” Shuyi responded. When Karen cried in the previous session, Shuyi empathised with her sadness and she started to cry but she could not verbalise the reasons for feeling so affected by Karen’s sharing. She talked about how embarrassing it was that she cried in the previous session.

“How about the others? Do you have a different view?” I was still hoping that someone might just disagree and I will have an opportunity to intervene elegantly. What happened next was a chorus of exchanges from the girls, all in agreement with Karen and Shuyi. I was completely stumped. What next? How was I to intervene? Surely this meant something to the group – that sadness is a bad emotion and that crying is certainly a sign of weakness.

Struggling to think on my feet, I offered an observation, “Since you regard crying as a sign of weakness and that it is embarrassing, it is no wonder that you feel uncomfortable whenever anyone breaks down in tears. You found it extremely difficult to attend to Karen when she cried, just as how it was in the first session when Dee cried. Everyone looked down and was very silent.”

The group felt that they were not allowed to express their emotions and they had to put on a strong front in front of their peers and teachers. This reminded me of the little boy who cried when he fell in the playground – he was verbally chastised for doing something so shameful as to cry. The opinion and belief transcended the world of boys and entered the realm of girls as well – girls don’t cry.

You have to be strong, an outstanding performer, a top-notch achiever, and most importantly, you cannot wear your emotions on your sleeves. You have to hide and conceal your vulnerabilities because a strong person has no vulnerabilities. By revealing your vulnerabilities, you give others a chance to discover your Achilles heel and that is when you will be defeated. God forbid that you should ever shed a tear and cry!

I looked at the girls and felt a wave of sadness waft over me. They must each be carrying a carefully-packed load of emotions which they were afraid that anyone would ever notice. I needed to create a therapeutic environment, which was safe and secure so that the girls will feel safe enough to express themselves during the sessions. Safety with me as well as with each other, that they will not feel judged by each other as they attempt to be genuine and authentic in the sessions.

Mark Twain described very aptly, “Any emotion, if it is sincere, is involuntary.”

This is how I view emotions – that emotions are normal; that they are our natural responses to our moment-to-moment experiences; that they are real and they remind us of our basic humanity. Our emotions inform us of our unconscious realities, our vulnerabilities and our triggers in response to various aspects of life. I have been told that some emotions are bad and should be avoided, or better, never be expressed. There is no such thing as a good or bad emotion, contrary to what most people think. What is more important is to be able to recognise our emotions, identify them and appreciate why we feel the way we do, attend to our emotions and express them appropriately. If we view certain emotions as being bad or undesirable, we end up denying those feelings and that part of us which experiences such emotions. This means that we will be unable to acknowledge a part of who we are and what we are made up of.

The problem is that many of us are afraid of painful and difficult emotions, those of our own and of others around us. They may seem overwhelming and even overbearing so we avoid facing those emotions and sitting in the same room as those who are experiencing them. Whatever we cannot deal with, we will try to stop it, as if we can put an imaginary cap over an overflowing bottle of fluid to stop it from overflowing. We are worried that by allowing our emotions to flow, we may lose control and fall apart, into pieces.

“You have to control your emotions!”

Don’t we often hear that said to us? Or we may be the ones saying this phrase to others. But is this really possible? To control our emotions? All we will be doing is to bottle up our emotions, almost literally, bottled up – putting that imaginary cap over your bottle of overflowing fluid of emotions. Imagine what happens to you, the turmoil you will feel and the injuries you are inflicting on your body. Emotions are felt in the body and that explains the ailments that we sometimes experience when we do not feel good about what’s going on in our lives. Some people term it as psychosomatic symptoms but it does not really matter what term we use to describe our experience. When you are in touch with your bodily experience, you will be able to sense the discomfort or unsettling feeling. This is when you take a step back and reflect and ponder what your body is trying to tell you and where the discomfort is coming from. This may give you a sense of what you are experiencing and why you feel the way you do.

Every human being has a range of feelings and emotions that he or she will feel from time to time. Give yourself the permission to feel them and validate your emotions as you experience them because this is what makes you uniquely human.

“Feelings or emotions are the universal language and are to be honored. They are the authentic expression of who you are at your deepest place.” – Judith Wright

The gems within

During a conversation over a meal, I was asked by a friend (let's call him "D") where I get my inspiration for the blog entries. Well, since I started writing, I have been more mindful and present in my daily encounters and experiences. I reflect a lot more deeply about life, relationships, my felt sense, feelings and emotions.

"Are you going to write about this meal?" D asked curiously.

"Err, no." I thought briefly about the food I was eating. No, nothing came to mind at that moment.

* * * * * * * * * *

The next time I spoke with D again, we chatted about a variety of topics. It was rather random, but I asked him what he thought his strengths are.

D laughed, "This sounds like a job interview!"

I thought about the sessions I had with my clients during the week. Sometimes, this can indeed be an occupational hazard when I bring my counsellor stance into my social interactions! Anyhow, D thought for a very long time but could not think of anything. Well, he did think of one, just one.

Whenever my clients have difficulties thinking of any of their strengths, I would whip out my pack of strength cards, and get them to select a couple of cards for themselves. Without these cards at hand, I was not sure how I could prompt D, so I started to list as many strengths as I could recall. Even with that list, D struggled to find anything to represent his good qualities.

We are often highly critical of ourselves and we tend to find much more faults in ourselves than anything commendable or positive. It is not even humility. We are afraid that our subjective experience of who we feel we are may not be absolutely true and that it would be too presumptuous to think that we really have any virtues to show forth.

I came across this meaningful passage yesterday morning as I was pondering about this topic:

"We are builders of our own characters. We have different positions, spheres, capacities, privileges, different work to do in the world, different temporal fabrics to raise; but we are all alike in this, all are architects of fate." - John Fothergill Waterhouse Ware

Life is a journey. Daily living is a process. Absolute truth does not really exist and who is to judge us for who we are (except God, or whichever Great Being you believe in). We carry with us different qualities and different aspects of ourselves in our everyday lives and interact with different people who cross our paths. We may not be aware of it, but our influence and the effects of our words and actions will inevitably affect another human being, and maybe even multitudes of people out there in the world. We are no doubt "architects of fate", as the passage describes so aptly.


Look within yourself and discover the gems within. Having an awareness and consciousness of ourselves and the qualities that we possess or do not possess (usually, we think we do not possess them because we tend not to recognise our qualities nor give credit for who we are), will give us a sense of our abilities and capabilities. This will help us grow and develop our capacities and potentialities to touch the heart of another human being.

Reflect on your gems within.

Man's distinction lieth not in ornaments or wealth, but rather in virtuous behavior and true understanding." - Baha'u'llah

The voice of an adolescent

It has been a while since I have run therapy groups. It is quite unheard of in this part of the world and clients often find it anxiety-provoking to share their thoughts and feelings within a group setting. Actually I feel that this is probably not very different from the hesitations and inhibitions of people from other countries as well. Generally, once a certain level of safety and trust is established, the group will feel more comfortable about sharing and engaging others within the group.

Yesterday, I had the opportunity to set up such groups among the girls I am working with. I did not call it a therapy group because that is too foreign and I felt that for a start, a slightly more semi-structured approach will fit better. Anyway, I am not about to launch into a full-length essay and discussion about what a therapy group entails. Instead, I would like to dwell on some of my thoughts about my attempts to help these 15 year-olds have a voice, and let their voice be heard.

While I was preparing for this group, I came across a powerful quote:

“Never be bullied into silence. Never allow yourself to be made a victim. Accept no one’s definition of your life; define yourself.” – Harvey Fierstein

I sat in the groups (I ran two groups, with seven girls each) and listened to their struggles. I realised that it is extremely difficult for them to find their voice and how they would like to define themselves. As they search out the meaning of their lives, to discover what they truly desire for themselves, they are bombarded by the voices of adults - through their parents, relatives, teachers, politicians, various other adults and even the media and numerous propaganda. I say "bombarded" because these voices are really loud, significant, distracting and possibly even jarring at times. The girls become confused and wonder if they can really be the person they choose to be. Do they have a choice? Do they have a say?

As adults, we think we know better. We think we know what is best for these young ladies. Besides, we have a wider range of lived experiences so we would be in a much better position to give sound advices (or so we think). We think that it is our responsibility as the custodians of their lives, to guide them to a bright and promising future where they will be successful and well-accomplished individuals in society. As parents, we tend to expect a lot from our children. Many parents unknowingly and unwittingly impose their hopes, wishes, dreams, desires and aspirations on their children. They want their children to tread on territories which they have never been before and attain remarkable and spectacular achievements which they failed to accomplish as a child. We think that by setting the bar as high as possible, we may be able to stretch them to their fullest potential and be exceptional in anything and everything.


The question is, "How realistic are our expectations?" How much of what we do as adults is really a tussle with our own anxieties? If the adolescent does not do well, we may be seen as a parent who has failed, a lousy teacher, an irresponsible adult who did not do what we should do or can do.

At the end of the day, each of us is and can only be responsible for our own lives. By the time the child becomes an adolescent, she (also applicable to "he") needs to develop the skills required as an adult to learn to make her own decisions and decide what she desires for herself and how she wants to live her life. We are here to support and encourage her in her journey of discovery and adventure of life. We are here to facilitate the process, to show her the options and the possibilities. Not to restrict her, nor to stifle her, nor to tell her what to do.

Let us now take the time to listen to the voices of our adolescents, rather than to have them repeat after us.

The birthright of a child

The past week has been a time of adjustment for me, trying out different travelling routes to work and establishing a new routine for my daily commuting ritual. This was a perfect reason, or excuse (sheepish look) I used to take a break from my regular runs. This evening, I finally conquered my procrastination and went for my long-overdue run. To my clients and former clients who are reading this, yes, I suffer from the "disease" of procrastination from time to time as well! Looks like we have something in common!

During my run this evening, I listened to a recording of one of David Whyte's workshops on my iPod nano. David Whyte is a faithful companion of mine on my runs and great company too. Below is a small segment of his workshop:

"...one of the marvelous thing about children is they're made to be loved and appreciated. And a child only thinks something is wrong in the world when they are not loved. And the child looking for appreciation and love and to feel special, that's the birthright of a child. To feel as if they're seen and held and understood as this particular form of incarnation, which is not found anywhere else. And if the child can't get it in their own family, they'll get it from a neighbour, they'll get it from a person they just see once a day that they get a kind word from, they'll get it from a teacher. A child is hungry to be loved and to be seen...

You could say that for a human being, it's so natural to us in our growing that when you are feeling unloved, you could say that you are not quite feeling yourself. You are not quite feeling what you are actually born with as a natural faculty."

The other day, I read through some of the case notes to have a better understanding of the background of some of the cases which I will be handling. I found myself reaching for tissue paper a few times when I read about the amount of pain some of them had to carry with them through the innocence of their childhood. I also thought about some of my former clients who grew up feeling unloved by their parents.

The subjective experience of feeling unloved as a child is crucial, whether or not he or she was in actual fact unloved is a completely different matter. As a result of this pain, the child attempts to please the parents in hope for some remote hint of affection to reduce the feeling of being unloved, or strive to do well with the desire of receiving some form of affirmation to boost the positive sense of self. It tends to become a pattern in other relationships where the child becomes fearful of rejection and abandonment, highly critical of self, and doubtful that there is anything lovable about himself or herself.

If the birthright of a child is to be loved, what happens if the birthright is not fulfilled?

We cannot go back in time to alter the interactions between the parents and the child. Besides, the child is now grown up and has a deep emotional memory of the hurt of not being loved. You have now grown up, with the deep emotional memory of the hurt of not being loved etched in your heart.

The process of picking up the pieces of your broken self and mending your broken heart is going to take time. Rather than trying to find someone to love you for who you are, you will have to first learn to love yourself. When you are able to love yourself and accept your own shortcomings and see the goodness within you, you give yourself the permission to be loved and in turn, to be able to love another for who they are.

The courage to live out our dreams

During the recent school holidays, I went to Universal Studios with my sons. I am not a big fan of roller coaster rides - I concluded from a very early time in my life that I am not courageous enough to subject myself to the heart-pumping speeds or the heart-stopping freefall feeling. I am glad that my older son, Junnoske, does not take after me in that regard. He wanted to ride on a junior roller coaster and that meant I had to accompany him on the ride. I went on it and was screaming my lungs out, half amused at the sounds of Junnoske's laughter beside me, clearly enjoying himself.

I may never have the courage to go on the Battlestar Galactica ('the' roller coaster in Universal Studios Singapore), nor bungee-jump, nor parachute off thousands of miles. Neither would many of us. But there is one form of courage that we need in life, which is to have the courage to live out our dreams.

We hear of stories of courage of great people and even simple folks through the news, read them in autobiographies, self-help books, fictional stories of heroes or heroines, attend organisation-sponsored talks and workshops by highly-paid speakers and facilitators and so on. Of course for those who have become jaded in the world will be untouched by such courage and will express their cynicism overtly or covertly. For the rest of us, we are likely to be touched, moved, inspired, motivated and the desire to act and do something is stirred up within us.

However, what I have noticed is that this spark that is ignited is often just a momentary one, one that glows a little, fades off for a bit and brightens yet again for a brief period before it finally disappears. It is usually unlikely that the flicker of light develops into a sustainable flame or fire to warm up the eagerness and enthusiasm to carry through something deep within you, something which you long to be able to embark on and fulfill in your life. I wonder why it is so challenging, so demanding. Is it because the story was not inspiring enough? Is it because the speaker is not charismatic enough? Is it because we do not believe we will ever be able to accomplish something big in our lives?

I feel that the inertia comes mostly from within, whatever reason or excuse you may have. Outwardly, life seems to beckon us, whether it is the homework that needs to be completed, the household chores that cannot be left till tomorrow or the enormous amount of work that our boss has piled up on our desk. We pay attention to a certain part of our lives, tending to the mundane daily requirements and missing the big picture of our lives. I will probably dwell a little more on this theme in another blog entry. But for now, take a little time to reflect on your life, your dreams, your aspirations, your longings and yearnings. Who do you want to be? What do you want to achieve? Where do you want to be? Whom would you like to have beside you on this journey?

Take the first step and embark on this wonderful and beautiful journey of the life that you dreamed it to be.

I'll end this with a passage from David Whyte, a poet whom I have great admiration for:

‎"It sets one to dream, to think about being called out to greater things..., but at the end of it all, when we put any book down, no matter how inspiring, we are left facing ourselves in the mirror and the need to get up each morning, walk out the door and live our own lives." - David Whyte, "The Three Marriages"