I’ve been busy rehearsing with a bunch of fantastic musicians from church for the Anglican Diocese’s Centenary Inter-Generational Service (ie. A Big Thing) for the past four months. Everything culminates tomorrow, and today was our final dress rehearsal.
So I guess these are just some pictures from before the big day.
The empty exhibition hall, where we’re expecting more than 20,000 people for both services.
I’ve always loved the way an erhu sounds, and it was a privilege to play alongside a fabulous player. There was also a tabla drummer, and I love the unique layers of sound each of these traditional instruments bring.
Up close and personal with Daryl, one of the electric guitarists, and we’re backed by a choir too!
I’ve been thinking about this for some time, at least for the past day.
The correlation between figurative scars and original sin. Now, I guess original sin is metaphorised in the forbidden fruit, where the fruit, beneficial or not, was a direct instruction from God to “not eat”.
Now, I’ve been trying to cut down on some vice, how it’s classified as vice could well be a human construct or something else entirely, but that’s not the case right now.
What is the case, is that before it became a part of my life, I wouldn’t have thought about it, and now that I’m trying to get it out of my life, it’s all I can think about. It’s as though, the moment something “not from God” carves it’s way into my body, even if there’s a change of heart, the scars still remain, and they still remind.
I suppose all of us walk around with some form of scars, that will always be there unless they truly disappear, and cannot remind us of our mistake, folly, or simple unfortunate circumstance. And I suppose that when Christians talk about the transformed life, they also mean that the scarring has disappeared, and they are free to live life as God had intended.
But the reality, is that Christianity isn’t miracle cream.. though it could be. But more often than not, everything seems to need some sort of effort, and now I’m really wondering if effort gets rid of scars, or if it is that miracle cream that we need to make those scars disappear. So maybe that’s another scar right there, that the need to constantly better myself, is rooted in some scar, that I will ultimately have to keep scratching because it constantly itches.
I don’t think it’s as binary and simplistic as I’ve described, but I think the human condition is riddled with battle scars that we’ve obtained while fighting through life, I think we all have them. Even if we believe we’ve led a righteous life, we still have that “original sin” that’s sort of like a birthmark / scar we’re born with.
And maybe that’s why we all need some sort of divine intervention / miracle cream.. if we are to be unblemished. If that is what we’re called to be.
I take no credit for this awesome joke filled to the brim with sexist critique. If you can’t laugh, you probably didn’t find Mulan (Animated) racist.
So one day, a girl casually mentions to her group of friends, “Society’s full of double standards! I mean, if a guy sleeps with more than ten women in a month, he’s a STUD! But if a lady sleeps with more than two men in a year, she’s a SLUT!”
Everybody agrees with this widely regarded social truth.
Until the mild mannered bloke in the group retorts, “Think about it this way. If a Key can open any lock, it’s a MASTER KEY. But if a lock can be opened by any key, it’s a LOUSY LOCK!”
Can life really be simpler? Or rather, is contentment truly attainable in this day and age?
I ask myself this question a lot, because as I have equal number of people who do understand my desire to switch to teaching as opposed to continuing in the media industry (note: as of writing this, I am still waiting as to whether I will be granted an interview with the Ministry of Education), I probably have an equal number who express surprise when I tell them of my decision.
One of the biggest changes, is probably the glitz and glamour perpetuated by the media. The cars, the events, the fashion, the celebrities. If anything, I suppose that’s where I’ve never felt comfortable in my own skin, the need for things to be sexy. I try to be more practical in the way I choose to live my life, and with the constant trends and wants, you never really attain that. There’s always something that sells news, and I’m not comfortable with that. I know it’s paradoxical when I prefer things to work silently when I perform in a band, but I think working in public relations has showed me how much news is manufactured, or basically most things in the media are manufactured. The mechanics involved break down the illusion of the lifestyle.
I’m not trying to bad-mouth anything, I still have tremendous respect for my peers, who are making a living for themselves. We all have different callings in life, I suppose mine isn’t to live the life I left behind. The thing is that in the long run, I’ll still be making music, I’ll still be blogging, and I’ll probably still be excited about the same things, perpetuated by the media or not. I still like and dislike the media, but if there’s a difference in leaving the industry, is that the media isn’t my life anymore. It’s probably going to be something else.
That’s the problem with me, when it comes to pursuing a craft or profession, I tend to take on the role of a method actor, where I don’t do so well at compartmentalisng my life, separating personal from professional. I tend to integrate facets of both to create a unique product, that somehow becomes the life i live. It makes me give more than I should, and also receive less than expected. It’s not meant to be transactional, I don’t particularly excel at that, hence I’m not a shrewed businessman.
All in all, I’m also looking for personal satisfaction, and hence I’m willing to give up certain material things, at a shot at more intangible contentment. Perhaps I’m getting rid of peripheral distractions, and looking more into intrinsic factors.. will I live to regret anything? I hope not, afterall, life is too short for regrets, and maybe I don’t need much to be happy.
I really should not be staying up into the wee hours of my friend’s home playing Borderlands. It’s messing with my sleep cycle, and turning me into a vampire. But I pray it doesn’t take me over, fight the evils of nocturnalism!
I usually stay up late, but even this is getting a bit ridiculous. In fact, I think one of my goals is to sleep earlier and wake up earlier, if I’m going to get the hang of the teacher thing in the future.
Oh yeah, by next weekend, I’ll find out if I’ve been given an interview to try out for Teaching. It’s a big step and change for me if I get it. But I think it’s a positive change, it’s a career I see myself in, and I’m motivated to go far, even as a civil servant. I suppose there’s a sort of stigma with civil service vs. private sector work, but I don’t think I’m a particularly profit driven individual and I welcome the change if I get it. That at least is my thought process.
Tomorrow, I will do the things I need to do. Send out my transcripts to MOE, start bringing my other blog to life, pay my bills and maybe spring clean my macbook and install my recording software.
Tonight, before I sleep, I will stretch my aching arms and listen to music as it lulls me to sleep.
Posted: November 16th, 2009
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Why am I still awake at two in the morning when I decided that I would sleep at midnight and wake up seven hours later?
Originally, I wanted to type something reflective in here, but I got distracted leaving facebook messages to people that matter but are too far away, listened to the new Jadiid album and now having Yukimi Nagano’s music recommendation play in the background.
I’ve forgotten nights like these. Music and writing, where the words pulse along to the flow of the scanting melodies in the background. Well, maybe just for once, I’m indulging myself again.
In my increased free time, there are so many things I want to do, so many half finished endeavors, I’m beginning to wonder about the mantra “It’s the journey that matters”, and more concerned about “It’s not how you start, but how you finish.”
But I suppose I got distracted with all my entertainment utilities, they really are a productivity buster. Forty two level increments on Borderlands, and a couple of UFC fights and various movies, TV shows, etc.. and I am more knowledgeable about various pop culture that will not aid me if I ever needed to perform the Heilmlich Maneuver.
Well, here I am indulging my typing/writing again. Isn’t it funny that most writers today, actually type when they need to publish? Oh, I’m not really a writer, it doesn’t make me any money, so let’s not make that comparison.
So I guess there’s always tomorrow to continue with blog designing, learning to use recording software/hardware and practicing more music. Increasingly, I find it very important to have some sort of a craft, just so I can define myself better, so that I fit into a genre at the music store.
One of the best experiences I’ve gotten out of my (f)unemployment phase, is growing closer to my family. By staying home more often, I’m allowed by default to spend more time with the people that matter to me, and as I’ve come to learn, blood is thicker than water, and there’s no place like home.
I fully understand, that having a family that loves is truly a blessing, and that there are pockets of abuse, of any kind that go on in various homes, but I’m just thankful mine isn’t one of them, though it breaks my heart that as human beings, we really hurt the ones closest to us.
We can’t choose our families, we’re born into it, and we all have our idiosyncrasies as individuals. I always thought that I could reshape certain things about my family members that irked me, but I think that when you realise the small and big things that family will do for each other, you reshape your own perspective, to accommodate the uniqueness of each family individual.
For example, I’ve always thought my mother a bit of a nagger, but her intention isn’t out of hurt or spite, but in love. And I’ve had to learn patience to see certain things from her perspective. That’s just how she shows it, and when somebody’s intention is pure, you don’t really fault them, though you could if you wanted to. But that’s the beauty of it, by opening a channel of communication and not being irked at first instinct, we talk about what rubs us the wrong way, and two people can take positive steps to understanding people better.
People talk about how you can’t help with who you fall in love with, and I wonder, if by default we’re just supposed to love our families, regardless of shortcomings.
I don’t know, but love unconditional, even in the face of personal self doubt, failures, roadblocks, pain, anguish.. is not simply a ‘happy’ feeling. Sometimes, love hurts, but in the end, if the intent is to love, and better someone else, I hope it finds a way to pull through. Love is not a four-letter word, or simply an emotion.. it’s life, thought and deed. Slowly I’m learning, what it means to love in this day and age.
So before I lull myself into stagnation, various things are happening so that I stay on my tippy toes. I sent in my application to join the Ministry of Education about two days back, and I suppose I am serious about becoming a teacher.
Trust me, this decision wasn’t an easy or popular one, but it sits well with my soul.. which I suppose makes it that much easier. Free market capitalism isn’t for everyone, and it isn’t for me. I think with my world views, personality, and hopefully my workable strengths, I’m more suited for a career in service to the public. I know there are plenty of teachers around, but in my social circle, I seem to be a bit of an exception, much less intending to move from private sector work into the public sector. Intending to move from the media industry into the educational industry.
But apart from sending my application in, it’s beyond me now. I’m just waiting to see if the other side will reciprocate my intentions.. relationship advice from day 1.
I’m running out of money and my little sojourn to settle my traffic offence from August will finally take place at the end of November, one day after I play for the Anglican Diocese’s Centenary Service. On top of that, I’m doing remedial training, because I’m not in ripe physical condition, and the Army thinks I could be doing better. Conscription woes. Well, this is still a pretty worrying and busy November even without a job, so maybe I’m glad I don’t have one for the moment.
I just hope something shows me that I’m on the path I’m supposed to be taking. Is that too much to ask for?
