5 January 2013


I walked around a bit this morning. Snail paced. People were colliding with each other. Pedestrians randomly stopping in thoroughfares. There were very few people smiling. Bespectacled faces everywhere. Crowds. Everywhere. 


I am definitely back in Singapore. 


What a bummer. 

I guess I have had too much of a good thing. My carefree three weeks back in Oz are gone gone gone. The thought of returning to work on Monday appalls me. It really does. I feel Flat. Listless. Glum. Where's my empty beach gone? It's still there actually. It is me that's left. I think I feel this way every year after returning from holidays. I am sure I will get over it. I just need to get me some direction. Establish a purpose. Click myself into gear. 

Like most things of substance, this is easier said than done. 

What the hell happened to my dreams? I do remember pondering deeply about the infinite possibilities that each new day holds. It excited me. It got me out of bed. The sheer volume of experiences I could have seemed infinite. The potential in each new day were as breathtaking as they were limitless. Yet here I am clicking away at my keyboard. I feel that much of the time my life seems trapped in a loop. It is like I am reliving a few days over and over again. Is it my lack of imagination that I can envision only a handful of paths laid out ahead of me? 

It seems to me - in my post-holiday doldrums - that we typically see the same things every day. We normally respond the same way too. With few exceptions we think the same thoughts, perhaps each day a slight variation on the last. Sometimes it seems that our every moment smoothly follows the gentle curves of societal norms. We do what is expected of us. We act like if we just get through today then perhaps tomorrow our dreams will return to us. 

And no, I don't have all the answers. I don't have any of them actually. I don't exactly know how to jolt myself into seeing what each moment could become. But I do know this: the solution does not involve diluting my every little idea and creative impulse for the sake of one day easing my fit into a mold. It does not involve tempering my life to better fit someone's expectations. It does not involve constantly holding any part of me back for fear of stirring things up. It will never involve me not speaking my mind. 

This is is important stuff so I want to write a reminder down as a personal point of reference: 




I am pretty sure that the purpose of life is not just to be happy. That is way too ideal. I think the purpose of my life then is to be Useful. It is to be Responsible. To be Compassionate. Above all it is to Matter. To Count. To stand for something. For me it is to have made some difference that I lived at all. 

I need to make sure that what I am living for is the same thing as what I am dying for. 

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