speaking of today, 2011

I am entering the last year of my twenties. A lot of my slightly younger friends perceive this as the last year they have before registering for geriatric wards, but age is gracious enough to prepare you for more age, if you get what I mean. It doesn't help that I'm a December kid. In Malaysia, everyone asks you for your age by the year, so it felt that I was twenty eight for all of one month, before being obliged to tell people that I was 'turning twenty nine this year'.

But I digress slightly.

Most of my friends know that I put in a birthday post as kind of a tradition. Part of me thinks how wankerly it is; another part considers it as a favor I do for myself, a checkpoint to reflect on my life, just in case I'm subconsciously slipping bribes to my synapses.

I think this year, I've been operating cleanly. Or could that be the 'donation' speaking?

Two thousand eleven was one big rush, and I have not sat down yet. Today is a day like any other. I got to work late because I got stuck at home trying to trace a misplaced phone; I slept 4 hours in distress of a damaged hard drive containing years of work and memories; tonight I am performing the preview for a brand new murder mystery called 'Klue Doh!', a Malaysian-Australian collaboration that will be staged until 17th December. As a no-downtime milestone, Klue Doh! will be the third and final theatre project I will be engaged in this year. Knowing me, there would have been a fourth if the year lasted a tad longer.

It's a huge leap from my humble 4-month recluse in Burma. In fact, I now do recall stepping fresh off the plane in February and heading straight into the first script reading of Klue Doh.

Burma was amazing. I can say without blinking that She Changed My Life. I wanted to write an epilogue of my stint there, but I could not find the right words. I haven't even shared all my pictures of Her, because it was that intimate of a relationship. Devastatingly, I might not ever will now that my hard drive is dead. But if any one of my friends have intentions of visiting, I say go. Now. Keep your your mind open to understand, your heart open to appreciate, and She will sweep you off your feet, rest your head on Her bountiful lap and need you with grapes. Or even better, the fermented liquid manifestation of it. (As a non-drinker, I confess I took a sip from a glass of cheap-as-chips local honey wine; it was humble and glorious.)

I've had many moments this year where I have had to swallow my pride, cry even, in fear that I was not able to accomplish what I had set myself up to do. Dancing next to trained dancers, conversing and singing in languages that don't come naturally to me, being treated unprofessionally, maintaining an LDR, loosening principles to save my ass in a foreign country, re-homing an animal... And still finding greatness in all of it. Making myself small has made life appear so much bigger.

"Should prosperity befall thee, rejoice not and should abasement come upon thee, grieve not, for both shall pass away and be no more."

- from The Hidden Words of Bahá'u'lláh

I started off my birthday passage last year with a Baha'i quote, which ever more represents what I have experienced this year. I've earned big jobs, I've lost big jobs. I've been sneered at, I've been cheered at. I've taken amazing pictures, I've lost an entire bank of memories. People have given birth; people have died. The cosmos has this amazing sense of balance, and I am constantly learning to honor that. A couple of weeks ago, I took a 2-day retreat to Bali. The evening before my flight home, I sat on the beach by myself, and watched the colors of the sky mingle and dim, and I remembered all this, and I took in the world, and I cried.

Sometimes it takes knowing someone else to know yourself better. I've spent the most part of the last three years on my own, constructing and de-constructing whenever, and I figured that self-accountability was something I could get used to. I have had moments where I've mistakenly assumed that my own principles ran the status quo. Thanks to friends and family, my joyrides to Doucheville have always been shortlived.

I've started hanging out with a guy. Our paths crossed in a peculiar way, but I think he's neat, he thinks I'm neat too, and together we have found a steady state of neatness. I haven't clicked so well with someone in a long time. Once I managed to translate my 'fear of commitment' to a 'fear of re-learning me', everything became so simple. Any opportunity to evolve is golden, and more so when it involves an utter stud muffin.

I have not felt so 'centred' in my life... it feels really dope. I'm itching to bloom and love and create. Growing 'old' is not a bane as much as it is the privilege of making each day as amazing as it can be, and as important as you are to yourself. Today I grieve my losses but I know I will be better. I am grateful and proud to be where, who and how I am. I am grateful for my ups, my downs, my body, my family, my dog, my work, my friends, my community, my partner, my dreams, my breath… on a day like any other.

Off to the theatre! Thank you for reading, thank you for your wishes, and may you continue to create this day.

Your fellow inventor,

Davina

The Road More Travelled

Originally written for Michelle Tan's The Love Culture (http://theloveculture.wordpress.com/). Thank you Mich for providing an avenue to share, and encouraging me to post up my piece in full.

As a full-time events manager and fuller-time performer, one of the constantly pressing issues is getting around to do work. For the past 7 years, I have been relying on public transport to get around the Klang Valley. This fact seems to trigger various strong responses from people, considering how the Malaysian public transport system is notorious for being inefficient and unreliable. For the past 7 years, an uncountable number of people have urged me to get myself a car. But no matter how many times I get myself into trouble for being tardy for rehearsals or appointments due to a late bus or train, no matter how persuasive friends can get in the perks of driving, I still end up making the choice of strolling, running, looking both ways, climbing, sweating, panting, slipping & falling... reaching my destination flustered, and apologetic if the occasion requires it.

Why? is what most ask me. Why do that to yourself? Why submit yourself to a lifestyle so impractical for the careers you have?

Because as perverse as it initially sounds, I find it worth the adventure.

Having spent the most recent couple of years learning a lot about myself than I ever have, I have begun practicing the art of voluntary simplicity. Back in 2004, I could get away with saying that I couldn't afford it, and by now I have indeed saved enough to invest in a set of wheels. But I have chosen not to... not because I am miserly. And the environmental benefits of not owning a car is just the tip of the iceberg.

Using a car offers a world of convenience; it allows for the most linear, straightforward journey from Point A to Point B. Urban culture takes pride in the concept of efficiency. Taking public transport is seen as a last resort... it consumes relatively generous amounts of time, compounded by unpredictable travel schedules.

For a very long time, I was very frustrated with this. But I then decided to not allow such conditions to be a 'waste of time' by reading books, writing, and letting myself get lost in thought - which, I realized, is actually quite a luxury for me these days.

Using my legs to get me around leaves me in awe of them. I've been taking morning runs to maintain my stamina and as I lather myself up in the shower, I feel the strength of my thighs and calves. It brings me joy that my legs are healthy and functional, and why not make the most of that? I will let them take me as far as they can until I age and one day can use them no more.

One of the most rewarding aspects of public transport is the sensory ambush. I have probably seen, heard, felt, smelled and tasted more of the city than the average car driver in KL. The the pathways, the back alleys, the street food, the sea of faces... they never cease to fascinate. I look up into the sky and observe how tree branches compete for sun, how streetlamps flicker, how clouds form. I sit in the bus and hear arguments, laughter, languages I have never heard before, conversations randomly struck between strangers. I watch a flurry of hands as deaf friends discuss a topic undoubtedly exciting. I listen intently to the life stories of cab drivers. I teach toddlers on the train how to give high fives to the amusement of their mothers. I hold the hands of blind people as they cross the street in Brickfields, I sense the gentleness of their palms and the gratitude in their voice. The smell of jasmine, exhaust fumes, incense, sweat, rain, sewage and keropok lekor waft through my hair, besiege my nostrils, and hurl my floating state of mind back into the unique Malaysian madness I choose to be present in. Eyes of passing strangers meet mine and imbue me with a sense of community.

Commuting does have its fair share of risks, but that goes for every mode of transportation. Dishonest cab service, pickpocketing and public sexual harassment do exist, as do road accidents, aggressive motorists, and carjacks. It's just a matter of staying alert in our mode of travel and handling ourselves in the most ideal way with the decisions we have made.

There have been moments I have found myself less than appreciative of my country's flawed public transport system, but never for too long. A couple of weeks ago, I was feeling exhausted after a long humid day of work and extensive commuting around the city. I was making my way to my last appointment of the evening in Bukit Bintang, when I happened to pass by a group of street percussionists. Their pounding rhythms compelled me to stay a couple of minutes. One of the drummers spotted me bouncing in the crowd, and pulled me into the centre of their circle. Turned out they were performing their last song. To the cheers of the spectators, I put down my bags and unleashed my inner monkey. I met my friend sticky but revitalized. He asked, "What happened to you?" I laughed, and forgave myself for ever feeling ungrateful.

General consensus is that public transport in Malaysia is impractical and a waste of time. But with a new adventure that awaits the moment I step out of my house, with the subtle whims of Kuala Lumpur I have witnessed and become a part of, and the deep breaths I must take whenever people ask me how my day was, perhaps being impractical and wasting time isn't too much of a bad thing.

Female Shih-tzu mix (3 yrs) for adoption

Hello Everyone,

My older sister is giving up one of her 3 dogs for adoption.

Unfortunately, the previous owner 'disappeared' from correspondence before my sister was able to get details of her medical history.

JLo is estimated to be 3 yrs old, and we don’t know if she has been spayed or vaccinated before. She appears to be a mixed breed Shih Tzu, beige in color. She is a little on the lean side, but is otherwise healthy.

She’s not exactly the brightest bulb in the box, which has been a huge obstacle in my sister’s attempts to train her, including simple commands and toilet training. She’s terrified of the sound of rain and will hide anywhere to get away from it. She is a generally quiet dog, but is attentive and will occasionally bark if alarmed.

The one thing I can guarantee that she is good at is Love. She greets you in the morning and approaches people without hesitation the moment her name is called.

I am looking for a compassionate, responsible owner who will have the time and patience to look after her. My sister intends to surrender JLo to SPCA but I believe the pooch deserves another chance.

If you are interested or know anyone who might be, please email me at da_vina@graffiti.net, or drop me a line via my Twitter handle: @duuuhvina.

Please spread the word!

Sincere thanks and warmest wishes,

Davina

On Love

Last weekend, my older sister got married to her partner of ten years.

The night before, I had received news that a man I met in Scotland last year had passed away suddenly, leaving behind his partner of eleven years.

I was going to just write about how these two incidents have affected me, then along came the deaths in Norway, China, and of Amy Winehouse.

I shall continue to share what I had been meaning to share, but now with a concession that emotional fragility is now being shared between many around the world.

I feel like I have been living out one really long day since arriving back in Kuala Lumpur on Thursday night. I have barely been sleeping, partially because a part of me is still in another timezone, partially due to the anxiety and frustration of a freshly reconsidered relationship, amongst other things I can’t really put my finger on. I have surprised myself with this, knowing that everything that I do is my own doing… I have the power to put my own self at ease, yet I have decided not to. Perhaps it is because I know that these days, I don’t give myself time to give in to my humanness. So for the past few days, my excuse has been jetlag. Pretty crazy to see how much you can get away with when you tell people that. Today onwards, I get back into my busy mode. And I’m expected to pull my head out of my arse and get going again.

Saturday was a great day, obviously. My sister Melanie was all nervous and giggly. I’ve never seen her like that, well not in a long time at least. She grew up very fast, being the oldest in the family. She’s had a reputation for being a headstrong woman, occasionally excessively so. But she revealed a rarely seen side to her that was deservedly advertised. I remember the day I introduced her to my mentor at work – a popular announcer on Malaysian radio whom I had known as Johnboy. It was at an extreme sports event. At the end of the day, Johnboy sent me a text confessing that he thought Mel was cute, or hot, or some other generic pop term used to describe attractiveness. Despite the unconventional difference in age, he easily convinced my family that he was a keeper. Mel and John grew to be the sort of couple that you just knew would last through the ages, with or without marriage.

Claire and Frankie had been together for eleven years, definitely had the same vibe going. So finding a message from Claire on Friday night, informing me of Frankie’s sudden demise a few weeks ago, left me shocked and extraordinarily sad. I went to Frankie’s Facebook page, and saw the flood of wall posts from friends and family… dedications, video posts of his performances, news of a tribute gig, and most notably, Claire’s messages of love and longing. I cried uncontrollably.

Strangely enough, I had only met Frankie and Claire once, when my then-partner Stuart and I visited Scotland last year. Stuart’s friend Kyle heard of my coming to London, and invited us both to stay with him in his humble hometown of Dundee. It was quite a culture shock, a teetotaler being taken on day-long pub crawls, trying to interact with people who spoke an English I could barely understand. Kyle’s uncle Frankie turned up with Claire on a pub quiz night and after the game invited a bunch of us to their nearby apartment for some lounging and random jamming. Their place was small and inviting, filled with an amber glow. We brought up food and drinks and ate, laughed, sang, and I’m certain at some point I fell asleep but without offending anyone’s company. Frankie and Claire’s warmth and hospitality were one of my great memories of Dundee.

Knowing about the paths of two similarly long-term relationships going through two completely contrasting journeys is what has been shaking me up. To be frank, I was initially unfazed by news of my sister’s engagement. Now, I am terribly grateful for them. Fueling this appreciation is an incredible new fear, a fear of this neverknowing of where destiny will lead each set of lovers to, irregardless of the benefits of time or strength of a relationship.

I have yet to experience a long-term relationship with someone, or at least one that has been physically tangible. And I marvel at the courage and determination two individuals have when they decide to go the distance together. I am inspired by randomness but now realizing its magnitude, and how serious a business it can be, is making me feel more vulnerable than I’ve ever been.

My events managing work recently led to the staging of The Sound Of Music in Kuala Lumpur. I managed to catch some parts of it, including the scene where Maria, frightened of her growing feelings towards Captain Von Trapp, confides in Mother Abbess. Mother Abbess tells Maria that God has given her the capacity to love, but whether that love is manifested in living a pious life, or falling for someone, is Maria’s own prerogative that she must acknowledge. Or something like that. I’m crap at paraphrasing. But whatever I got from that scene, I took it to heart: this aptitude approach to love and our implementation of that.

As a young girl I used to believe, like many young girls, I would find the man of my life by the time I hit my late teens, then stay with him for several years, then get married at an age young enough to keep up with the life and times of our brood. I can’t imagine how different my life would be if that really happened! Pregnancy is an experience I would embrace if it happens, but my idea of motherhood has now, more than anything, evolved more into the idea of the passing on of human responsibility. I yearn to nurture tiny people, from my own womb or otherwise, and learn things from them too. I want them to celebrate compassion with me, and use it to change the world.

But in the meantime, I will give my love to the best of my capability, to people, creatures, places and things that nourish me and keep me whole.

Mourning is born from Love. May the rest of us live on ever stronger in faith, purpose, righteous energy, and as warriors of Love.

Yours in arms,

Davina

PS Dear Claire, if you are reading this, I never got round to telling you that Stuart and I absolutely loved your singing that night… Stu said you had a Joni Mitchell kind of quality! I am thankful that you shared your talent with us, and I do hope that you will carry on creating greatness with your voice and guitar. I think it is something you will always owe to yourself. Hang in there and stay amazing.

On Unity

Unity has nothing to do with race, age or religion. Unity happens with the collective realization that we are all made of badassery.

Oh Look!

From my office balcony this wet morning, I spotted a man and his toddler walking hand in hand down the back alley.

He was looking straight ahead. His daughter kept on slowing down, looking up at the buildings, at the back alley behind her and all around. The father was egging her on to keep his pace.

Age and routine takes the fun out of seeing. May we all wake up each day with a child's eyes.

At your service

This afternoon, I saw my colleague and two temporary staff come into the office after packing lunch, carrying styrofoam boxes in plastic bags. A few minutes later, before I stepped out for my own lunch, I decided to do something about my frustrations, and called for everyone's attention. I requested that if there was a need to pack lunch, then if it could be done using the re-usable plastic food boxes that have been accumulating in the utensil cupboard.

"Can they still be used? They're so old!" my colleague said. I told her I use them all the time, and they're clean.

She said that packing food in old plastic wasn't any more better than packing it in styrofoam. She didn't elaborate on why. Perhaps it was the questionable heat-releasing-toxins-from-plastic argument? Isn't it alright to pack hot food in plastic that shows a 'microwaveable' sign?

Regardless, I didn't probe into her statement and asked straight out, if everyone could switch to just taking out the empty containers, or if there was an issue with it, then I could buy proper lunchboxes for everyone from the supermarket, and if anyone found washing up to be a bother, then I would do the washing for them.

Everyone just kept quiet. It was as if I offended them.

I apologized for the strange request. "I'm just an environmental Nazi like that, you know how I am..." I gushed.

Silence.

"...Well, if you prefer styrofoam, then of course I can't really stop you," I added.

My colleague said, "Well, you've said your piece then." And went back to typing.

A little stunned, I turned to the temp staff. The two girls looked at each other, and one of them said, "I think we're okay like this."

I said okay, and quietly walked out to meet my friend for lunch.

I know it is not my place to change mindsets, but I still couldn't help but feel overwhelmed with anger and defeat. Urbanites are bombarded by the media about eco-everything, so I am certain that they were not ignorant of the intentions I was trying to convey. I did not vent and I did not preach. I offered an option and offered to absorb as much of the efforts involved in the change. And yet there it was... the (dare I say, Malaysian) flat-out attitude of not caring, not even a dedicating a second of consideration of the consequences of their actions as consumers.

It is, however, difficult to not offend anyone in that situation. No matter how sensitive one can be in tackling environmental awareness, you're always going to be painted out to be someone who goes out of their way to seem better than everyone else.

People always tell me, "It's good to have people like you around," and to be honest, I really don't like that. I don't want to be another person's excuse to slack off on doing the right thing. I don't want people telling me that I inspire them if they personally don't prove to themselves that I do.

I'm not a crusader, and I am not your social superior. I am a worker ant and I am executing my duties on autopilot.

Now, can you help me lift this branch up? It's mighty heavy!

What is Duh-vana?

"People have sought knowledge and to be wise
Climbing hills for better meditation
Say people are bits in a bowl of rice
Or like drops of water in an ocean
The world's full of worries, so don't add yours
Your own troubles are enough for yourself
Noone cares what happens behind closed doors
Noone else needs to think deeply and dwelve
Do not seek eternal enlightenment
Just let it all loose and let it all free
Do not pick at it; do not argument
Leave questions unanswered as they should be
When your head starts to float, you feel lighter
Then you'ld have reached the stage of Duh-vana."

- Albert Ng, April 2002.

Once upon a time, my friend wrote this sonnet as a light-hearted tribute to my own quest for enlightenment. Re-visiting it almost a decade later, it bears more significance than it ever did!

Welcome to my new journey towards Duh-vana.