The Chap In The Chapel

The school chapel was somehow out of bounds for me, a self imposed rule. I peered into it once after catechism, an optional class in standard one. I remember I was scared, the fug in the dimly lit room, uninviting. The big statue of Virgin Mary did not calm my nerves. I bolted out after no more than five uneasy steps into the room. Why? I was a little boy, not quite seven. The lifesize Jesus was nailed to the crucifix, I could feel his immense pain, it was undeniable on his sad face. I wasn’t prepared to witness cruelty and death in a religious room, a place for contemplation and confession. The crucifix was as macabre as the gallows, both murder weapons that display their dead victims high up, a useful deterrent.

In 1976, the last year of my school life, a friend invited me to the chapel to pray with her. She was a beautiful girl with long slim legs and matching black long hair. An Asian version of Artemis. Sure! I wasn’t saying no to the girl of my dreams. After all, the other boys had behaved like cockroaches clamouring around a pot of honey for the past many months whenever she was present. It crossed my mind, why would she invite me? The me had a face riddled with acne, further detracted by the coconut hair cut. The me had gangly puny arms and a chipped front tooth which prevented me from flashing friendly smiles. I was not in those boys’ league, they paraded their cockiness and god-given confidence with panache. Not that I pigeon-holed myself as one of inferior caste, a son of a dhobi man, a Xiyi ren. What I had spades of was “Inner Strength”; I was grateful for the name given to me. I deduced my dad would have valued strength as a prerequisite for steadfast grit and unwavering loyalty. But, I never revealed my “Inner Strength”, it was always buried inside my shy and quiet shell. Praying is a deep personal experience with God, yet she invited me to pray with her. I did not tell her I wasn’t on talking terms with God anymore, he never answered me and so I gave up talking. Without any hesitation, I followed her into the chapel.

The fug in the room was still there. But, Jesus looked less in pain, as if he had grown used to the suffering as I grew up.Virgin Mary now looked more serene and at peace, they have been together all this while. They would have looked at me, the chap in the chapel and wondered why I was there. They would have remembered the urghhling who bolted out of that room.

Anzac Day, Not NZ Day

In 1977, as a new arrival to this great country that is Australia, I first heard about “NZ Day” and wondered why Aussies celebrate NZ Day. Why not leave that to the Kiwis? It is meant to be a solemn day, but for a school student, it was a happy day for me. A public holiday meant double time pay for me at the Chinese restaurant. Weekend work there financed my spartan life as an overseas student, the pay was enough to cover rent and basic necessities such as food and toilet paper.

Wind forward forty two years. It is Anzac Day again. But this time, I understand the real significance of today. It is the one day in the year when we commemorate those who served and died in all wars, conflicts, and peacekeeping operations. More than a century after the first Diggers were massacred in battles such as Gallipoli, this day is now embedded in the national psyche. For some though, it is mere tokenism to respect the sacrifice so many made “for us”. Once I overheard someone ask, did they really die for us? Those early Diggers could not have imagined who “us” have become. We are no longer just white settlers from their motherland, Great Britain or native aboriginals.

Forty two years on, I find myself still working on this solemn day. But, this time, I have the luxury of time and quietness to reflect and be thankful of the sacrifices so many fallen Diggers made. Did their deaths make a difference? Is the world a safer, better place? Many were just out of their teens, many died without having really lived. Would they agree with the reasons why they died, if they were here for me to ask them? In the US alone, the cost of war is $32 million per hour, since 2001. The true cost is immeasurable. How do we value loss of lives and destruction of property (especially of historical significance), opportunity costs, lost contributions in art, music, inventions, etc etc. Historians write about the causes of wars and they reason why those conflicts were necessary . Urghhlings are those who still incite us to go to war. In wars, there is no art. The ugly truth about wars is that the cost is unjustifiable.

Lest we forget.

Media, Mediation, Meditation Or Medication?

You want to sue me?! I sternly demanded a prompt answer from my customer. In those early days, manning the auto shop by myself was sometimes quite daunting. The only qualification I had about cars was that I had a driver’s licence to drive it. I knew very little about how the carburettor works, let’s not even talk about the car engine itself. Just the antenna section alone scared me, we had almost a hundred different ones!

You want to sue me? You want Sixty Minutes to come and disgrace me? Over $79 for something you broke and now expect a full refund? I peered at the thuggish bloke through my gold rimmed frames. He was riddled with tattoos all over his face; I was merely riddled with acne scars. He wore a long pigtail and a cruel scowl; I couldn’t match him with my fake growl. Reminded me of a silverback; but without a silver back. Ok, call the media, we do not mind free publicity. Any PR is good PR, I emphasised with a higher pitch. The bikie (I assumed he was a bikie, the hints were there, his Hell’s Angels leather jacket, his burly mates with folded ape-size arms hanging in front of the shop counter like a bad smell.) sneered and hissed, Watch your back, we will wait for you to come out after work. After work meant after sweeping and mopping the shop floor. I managed to get home safely that night, otherwise, I wouldn’t be writing this today.

He was back the next day! At the front of the shop, even before I got there. If only paying customers were like that, no, it is always fickle customers that queue up before opening time so that they can get their refunds before the cash register rings its first greeting for the day. Why don’t we negotiate, he asked? I have a friend who will mediate without bias. By that, he meant his fellow thugs would bear-hug me with their ape-arms? Or we can go to Consumer Affairs. It will cost you more to pay for court fees, he quipped, obviously equipped with extra legal knowledge overnight. His bikie mates arrived, and from the corner of my eye, I saw the only customer browsing in the other corner of the shop leave. His mates were raucous, obnoxious and one was downright ridiculous, flicking cigarette ash onto my meticulously mopped floor. I couldn’t help but follow him with an ash tray, catching dirty ash before they dirty my floor. Ok, let’s be smart about this, I did not want to have to mop my floor again before the first sale. A quick easy way to mediate was to offer him a 50:50 settlement to which he accepted immediately.

Urghhlings. I went home that night to recuperate from the stress. Yes, it is very necessary for a shop-keeper to know meditation, to de-stress. That’s infinitely better than to resort to medication.

Bhikkhu’s Way Of Meditation

Last week, a friend sent me a translation of Thanissaro Bhikkhu’s advice on meditation. It was unsolicited, out of context, out of topic, out of the blue, outrageous, and I haven’t been able to keep it out of my mind. Why? About meditation? Coincidentally, my sons were discussing between themselves the merits of meditation just a few weeks ago. The young ones are quick to pick up new trends. New? Nah, these are many centuries old actually. Kombucha, Kimchi, Intermittent Fasting, Yoga and now Meditation.

Anyway, I’m glad to have been introduced to the Bhikkhu principles of meditation. I’ve lived most of my life in the West, it’s time that I open my horizon to Eastern teachings and wisdom.

Live a virtuous life and adopt an attitude of giving. This will lead us to a peaceful and stress-free existence which is conducive to effective meditation. I can do that. Giving is fine, I have no qualms about that but at the same time, I love freebies! I exude happiness and contentment after a free meal. I will need to tell Bhikkhu, having a propensity to receive graciously is as rewarding as giving generously.
Restrain our senses, garbage in garbage out. Be mindful of what we hear, see, taste, touch, and smell. If we are careless about what we absorb, how can we be careful of what we think? Bhikkhu teaches us to balance out the one-sided view. To look with both eyes. This will be more challenging for me. I’m accustomed to look at the bright side of life, look for positives. After the 2008 Global Financial Crisis, I learned it is less depressing if we look at the glass half full rather than half empty.
Create a pleasant environment, restraint in conversation. Idle chatter is a waste of energy and a dangerous source of conflict. Ducks are noisy, so shut the duck up, he urges us. If we can’t control our mouth we can’t control our mind, Bhikkhu went on to say. But Bhikkhu, isn’t it the other way round? If we can’t control our mind, we can’t control our everything.
Find solitude, go to the wilderness. A quiet environment facilitates self discovery. We have the opportunity to think deeply, without distractions. He is right. I have been too noisy of late. I was such a quiet person once upon a time. What happened to me? Social media changed me into this noisy barrel. But haven’t I been alone enough? An empty nester for some 15 years… I’ve done my time, quietly! I’m done being quiet.
Develop Right View. The belief in karma, what we do really does have results. It is an empowering belief, which carries with it responsibilities. What goes around comes around. Cause and Effect applies both in physics and metaphysics. Bhikkhu is right. When we meditate, we have to be careful about our mind, so that we can be careful about our actions.

I will not hesitate to meditate tomorrow. Why tomorrow, you may ask? Because today, I am reluctant to empty my mind. It is very hard earned knowledge accumulated over a very long time and there isn’t enough in there as it is!

PS I would be a terrible urghhling if I am remiss in thanking my friend for his outstretched hand to guide me through the voluminous library of eastern philosophies. He has been outstanding!

From Mass To Massacre

The Sri Lanka tragedy still pervades my whole senses today, even invades my mind despite attempts at meditation using the ideas recently introduced by a friend who follows the Theravada principles.

Why do animals kill? Usually for food. But, there are some that kill their own, be it from cannibalism, infanticide or simply aggression. Urghhlings are violent, but how do we compare with other animals? About 8% of hyenas are devoured by their own species, mongoose 10%, and the cute lemurs are the worst killers of their own, at 17%, according to National Geographic.

Humans however are the only species I know that commit the extermination of a group of its own species. Genocide, the deliberate massacre of a particular group of people, be it race, culture or religion. The Sri Lanka Easter Sunday terror attacks were waged on high-end hotel guests who were having their breakfast, and on Christian worshippers celebrating mass. Massacred whilst praying in three houses of God, in the name of religion against another religion. The Islamist militant group National Thowfeek Jamaath has been accused although at the time of writing, the Sri Lanka government has not produced any evidence. Refrain from looking at the photos, you’d spew at the blood-spattered pews and unrecognisable body parts. We ought to respect the dead.

Are humans the only animals that torture their victims, before killing them? Unfortunately, we cannot measure emotions of other animals to decide on whether they have sadistic tendencies and we cannot know if they derive sexual pleasure from inflicting pain on others.

I contend there are no other species in the animal kingdom can surpass Urghhlings as the most vile, indiscriminate and effective in “mass killings” to which I include a war as one. Our history is littered with many horrendous examples. Citing highest estimates, the European invasion of the Americas top the list at 138 million dead, WW2 at 118 million dead. China, during the Taiping Rebellion, lost 100 million lives. Mao’s Great Leap Forward cost 56 million lives. Pause a bit. These are not just numbers. These were once upon a time people who breathed, worked, had personal goals, had places they called home, people who loved and were loved.

Urghhlings still rule the world. There is therefore still a great disturbance out there…….

The Nanjing Judge

A friend posted a short video today about the beauty of “mindfulness of others”. Japan is amazing for countless reasons, but its society displays the rare value of social consideration. They are thoughtful of other people’s needs.

You could nap in a train or bus because people are quiet. You could leave your phone, laptop, bicycle, scooter anywhere, and they won’t be stolen. Life is better for everyone if you cultivate a society to care for everyone, or be mindful of others. The world was in awe of the Japanese during the recent World Cup in Russia. Their football fans did not hurriedly stream out of the stadiums after each match. They stayed back to pick up all the rubbish and left the place clean and litter-free!

It was only two nights ago at a party when I posed the question: Would China be a better country today had they lost the Sino-Japanese War in 1937-45? It was estimated that over 25 million Chinese died in that war, from violence or famine. A civil war then ensued during which 2 million troops died and 5 million residents perished. A big price to pay to herald in the reign of the Communists in 1949.

The Japanese lost the war, but I think China lost a great deal too. Apart from the loss of millions of lives, Communism wiped out the moral fabric of the Confucian society. There is still a moral crisis forty three years after the Cultural Revolution. Marxism is both a political and economic philosophy but it is void of any moral teachings. It was a system of destroying the upper class to free the poor from tyranny. It also saw the abolition of religion and with it, the moral teachings. An amoral society empty of civility and civic ethos is perhaps the biggest price paid.

In 2006, a young Nanjing man, Peng Yu helped a woman to hospital, she had fallen and injured herself on a street. Later the woman and her family sued the good samaritan for causing her the fall. The Nanjing judge decided in her favour, ruling that Peng must be at fault, otherwise why would he “act against common sense” and help her? Only money is king. The monkey king is dead.

Shaoguanshienshi. Leave it, this is not our business. Urghhlings.

A friend reminded me of the Nanjing massacre and how the Japanese looted the occupied land. I declared the Great Leap Forward was worse. The failed grandiose ideas of Mao resulted in the deaths of some eighteen to fifty six million Chinese ( depending on which data you rely on). Irrespective of the actual number, it is beyond my imagination and comprehension that so many lives were lost or destroyed in the pursuit of an ideal.

Would China be better off under Japanese rule? At least the Japanese observe the many valued Shinto and Buddhist tenets. They have a pleasant demeanour of being “mindful of others”. More recently, many stories of good samaritans have surfaced in modern China. Many heart-tugging stories of heroes helping the distressed especially in rescue efforts after natural disasters. It is no longer true that China is experiencing moral decay. We cannot use individual incidents such as The Nanjing Judge to tarnish the whole society. In every barrel, there will be a few rotten apples.

To quote Mohandras Gandhi, You must not lose faith in humanity. Humanity is an ocean; if a few drops of the ocean are dirty, the ocean does not become dirty.

Resurrection, Then Insurrection

Happy Easter! Joy to the world, Jesus rose from the dead, and mankind’s salvation is assured. As long as we believe. I woke up with renewed vigour from this beautiful message of hope and redemption. Why would anyone not want to believe?

Early morning news came in. I was not having breakfast. For an Intermittent Fasting follower, break-fast does not happen till almost noon. News of insurrection in Libya, Tripoli was under heavy rocket fire. Fighting on Tripoli’s outskirts has killed at least 220 people and wounded more than 1,000 others, 25,000 residents have been displaced. A lot of deaths. Too much misery.

My mood was soured after reading the headlines in Aljazeera News. Suicide bombers and fighters attacked the communications ministry in the centre of Afghanistan’s capital, Kabul, killing two people in an hours-long assault that destroyed weeks of relative calm. Today has become just another ordinary day. Hopes of a new beginning dashed. Deceiving, despairing, numbing.

Later in the day, there was more bad news. More than a hundred and fifty people are dead and four hundred injured after eight separate bombings at three Catholic churches and four hotels in Sri Lanka on Easter Sunday. There will be many prayers, for those grieving for their loss and for the injured. Jesus’ Resurrection to me again seems in vain, many today have not remembered the significance of his miracle, instead choosing today to maim and kill. These attacks on religious buildings come only 38 days after the Christchurch mosques shootings by a white supremacist. The urghhling live-streamed his massacre of fifty Muslim devotees and injured fifty more, on Facebook.

A friend asked, was today’s massacre tit for tat, in retaliation for the Christchurch shootings? Another religious war? Or a continuation of the first religious war? The Crusades started it all, in 1095. Pope Urban II militarily supported the Byzantine Empire and its Emperor, Alexios I, who needed reinforcements against the Turks over the control of the Holy Land. Were there no religious wars before the creation of monotheistic religions? Did polytheistic civilisations wage wars on other religious beliefs? Or were they more accepting and tolerant, the more gods the better for them?

As the day becomes night, darkness sets in. So has my mood. The wonders of the miracle of Resurrection have long disappeared with the sun.

Destroyed by urghhlings.

Life Is Too Short

This phrase gathers momentum in this phase of my life. In my forties, I may have heard it once or twice. Now, it resonates loudly almost weekly.

On my 60th birthday, a party guest said to me. Life is too short, time you stop working and go smell the roses.

Today, a friend sent us a message. Life is too short to argue and fight. Count your blessings and value your friends. Walk with your head held high and smile while you have teeth.

Whenever someone says Life is too short, they will follow it with some advice, to do something else, anything but what you’re doing.

Life is too short. Do Intermittent Fasting and buy yourself some nice clothes. Why fast, you’re so skinny!

Life is too short, why don’t you read the Bible. The Holy Spirit will guide you. No, read the Precepts of Buddhism!

Life is short, stop dreaming your life away. Life is short, time to follow your dreams.

Do this do that, do something else, but don’t do what you’re doing now.

They mean well I suppose. They must think I am wasting my life away. They have a better appreciation of life, they think they know what’s more important for me.

Life is short. Don’t worry, be happy. Be grateful. Be generous, think happy things. Be yourself.

What does it mean? They think I’m not happy? I’m ungrateful? I’m a Scrooge? I’m being someone else? Urghhlings, life is short. Don’t make mine shorter. Leave me alone!

Life is too short. I would say find work that you really enjoy. The luxury of vocation, the opportunity to follow our dreams, as my son said, is the legacy of our ancestors’ toil and sacrifice.

Happy Wife Happy Life

A friend showed us a photo of him and his young bride. It attracted many positive comments. He looked compatible with his beautiful wife, as attractive as Adonis and Artemis. Amazingly, he is still able to fit into his cadet shirt from 40 odd years ago. What a remarkable achievement! I imagine I can’t even squeeze into my old pants from 10 years ago, let alone zip it up. He proudly chirped…. Happy Wife Happy Life.

Wow. There goes that saying again. Men can only find happiness by pleasing their wives, make them happy! What does that say about men? And perhaps more importantly, what does that say about their wives?! What happened to the idea of Unconditional Love?

It all started in the beginning….. of course! When the serpent sweet talked Eve to bite the sweet apple, why did Adam not confront her? Why did he stand and watch silently? No argument, no attempt to dissuade her? He stood by her, and made her happy. Wife, you want the apple, yes, you can have it. Here, let me pluck it for you. Let me rub it clean before you take that first bite. Yes, I will keep you happy. Urghhling, what a price we earthlings have to pay ever since! (Genesis 3:1)

Happy wife, happy life. I refuse to accept this. I refuse to accept The Mrs’s love is conditional upon me providing her with happiness first. If she is not happy, my life will be miserable? I might as well leave my fate in her hands. I might as well let my mood be manipulated by her mood swings. Is that really happiness? It can’t be right? It’s a barter system. I will give you whatever it takes to make you happy, so that I can be happy too.

Nah, The Mrs is better than that! She does not barter with me. She will let me be happy even if she is unhappy! Yaaaayy!

Seriously, for me, I would say Happy Life, Happy Wife. We can’t spread happiness unless we have happiness within.

Celebrate Blessed Good Friday?

A good friend wished me a Happy Good Friday. Let’s celebrate this day.

Celebrate? It suddenly occurred to me that it feels strange to celebrate someone’s immense suffering, that of Jesus’s crucifixion and eventual horrible death on the cross. Today is the day he died for us. The day God sacrificed his only son to save us. Is that cause for celebrations? Urghhlings tortured him. Hoisted him high up, bled him, mocked him. Killed him. What’s so good about that Friday? Later I find out Good means Holy. Holy Friday? Why is the execution of Jesus holy? There is nothing holy about the killing of a human being, right? My friends inform me it’s good because mankind is redeemed by his death. And has mankind been redeemed? If so, that’s really good. In ancient times urghhlings needed sacrificial killings. It’s awful that 1500 years after Buddha, there were still civilisations that saw a need for sacrifice. For God to also see the necessity to sacrifice his son is especially numbing.

But, how do we know today is the day? It can’t be, right? My dad passed away on 10th April 2007. It was a Tuesday. Since then the 10th April has fallen once on a Monday and a Saturday and twice on the other days. Yet, Good Friday is always on a Friday, and his resurrection therefore is always on a Sunday. How can that be? When exactly is the day he died on the cross? Which day of 2019 is the actual day to observe his death? Googling for the answer did not help. He who determined that the lunisolar calendar be used to determine when Easter is would have been a rather determined fella. How else would he have convinced the authorities to accept it let alone understand it?!

We have different calendars, the Gregorian one dominates in the west, and Easter must fall on a Sunday. Eastern Christianity follows the Julian calendar, their “full moon” is later than the astronomical full moon, and their Easter is therefore often later. How many moons are there in this world? I was later to be more confused to learn that there is another full moon, the ecclesiastical moon!

Why is it called Easter? God sacrificed his son, yet Easter is derived from the name of an old English goddess called Eostre as mentioned by the 7th century monk Bede. Why not call it in God’s name instead? Abba, the old hebrew term for God. Yeah, Abba’s Day. The resurrection of Jesus is a huge event, a miracle that much of the world still believes and celebrates. But, I still admire David Copperfield though. At least he always reappeared after disappearing into thin air. Jesus rose from the dead, but no one has seen him since.

Anyway, we all should appreciate the sacrifice God made. It is no easy thing to sacrifice one’s only son for the salvation of humankind. That is ultimate love. I am always glad the sacrifice was for 3 days, and not forever.