Life as it is

 The boys have grown and are now teenagers. It’s a new space for us as a family - both the boys learning more about themselves and us as parents learning how to love them and provide the protection and guidance they need.

I can’t say everyday is rosy, but through the ups and downs over the years, I see the beauty of my children and hubby. Maybe I’ll explain in more detail in another post, when I manage to gather my thoughts into words.

I’m well along in years now, just a few years shy of the big 50. I can’t say I feel very different, but I do feel tired. Weary of life, but with the knowledge that I will somehow be able to manage it. I take it one day at a time and finish each week off, grateful for the weekends to rest. I allow myself the grace of not working over the weekend to make up for things yet undone at work, even though I know that completing things gives me more peace of mind. But from experience, this peace never lasts, because the next backlog list is hot on my heels. So I learn to sit with the discomfort and try to be at peace with it.

This morning, I had a random thought. What if… what if I’m already in retirement? I get to watch my children grow up each day, I get to spend time with them each evening(even if only for a couple of hours on weekdays), I spend weekends leisurely, I get to serve in church in a ministry I love, I get to work in a corporate setting where my main role is to coordinate and follow up on a few teams to deliver projects. I gym with a group of wonderful people. I meet up with friends every few weeks. 

Perhaps this is the life I’ve wanted, and if I don’t take myself too seriously, then maybe this is already semi-retirement. 

From the Middle

 My dear friend,

Once again, I don't know where to begin. So let's begin with the now. Forgive me if the timeline jumps back and forth as we speak.

Right now, I sit at my desk at home as I write this. My office is now at home, because I am now self-employed. It's been a really tough start and am still building my business. It's funny how I decided to leave the corporate world and all its complexities only to take on an entire new world of endless business-building responsibilities and complexities. 

In the past couple of months, as I'm kept awake with worries of not drawing a salary and having to always have enough cashflow to run and build the business, I realise I was never afraid of tough work. The difference is that now, the huge headaches I'm facing are mine. Prior to having a business of my own, I could never just focus on the subject matter at hand. It was always further complicated by what this manager wanted, which was the opposite of another manager's view or timeline or budget or X number of other factors that would block the work from progressing. Or if work could carry on, it would be temporary or a quick patch job just to meet the month's quota. 

I wish I could say I was angry or disillusioned.  But I'm not, I've become boring. Perhaps when I was deeply involved in corporate culture, I was angry and almost sceptical. However, having my own business now, I understand (not fully, but a little more) the different tensions that come with running a business. The bottom line is always critical, otherwise the business drowns. So profit - both current as well as continual profit. However, to ensure continual profit, people need to be kept happy - customers, suppliers, agents, the regulators, etc. Then this means that timing and approaches are important. Timing - too impatient and I get a bad deal, too slow and I miss a good opportunity. Approaches - being too eager, too hesitant, too aggressive, too slow in response could all kill a good deal or sour a good relationship. 

So why, after all this, is having my own headache to deal with still more fulfilling? Well, again, I cannot help but compare it to my own kids. Because it's mine to love, to build, to shed tears and blood and to agonize over. I'm not sure when I can ever say my business is stable, only having started it officially less than 18 months ago. I'm not sure when I can tell my mum that I have enough profit to start taking home some income. I'm not sure when I can stop worrying if I will run this into the ground. But I know that I am committed to see this through. That I will do all I can to make it work. If you believe in prayers my friend, please pray for me daily, hourly even. 

Love,

Yours.

8 Years

It's been sometime, my good friend. 8 years.

I would like to say that life got in the way and I just lacked the time. But that's not the case. 

The truth is that I have made time for a whole lot of other things and have sidelined my letters to you. No excuses. But I never committed to writing for the sake of writing. I think it got to a point when I started doing that, and it reached a point of burnout.

I never forgot about you. I just had nothing to say, literally. I was tired of narrating my activities or my throughts which just always came back to the same things - family, spouse, fitness. I was worded out and didn't feel there was any value rehashing what I thought about because I had already said it before. You already know me.

That is, until I realised that you didn't, not fully. Because I change, I grow and when I start to sense that life is predictable, I tend to switch things up, perhaps sometimes overthrow the beliefs I once held on to so tightly.

No disaster has taken place, don't worry. My family is still intact and we have grown together. 

I won't make this a long rambling post, just wanted to check in with you, to let you know that I still hold you very dearly in my heart. I've just become less chatty, not neccessarily less joyful. I hope you understand that.

I hope to continue my letters again. Letters to no one in particular. Letters just to help me make sense of things again. These days, I'm often told what I should be thinking and how I should be living life to make it successful. Alot of it is good advice. However, I guess my writing these letters frees me from having to conform all the time. In my letters to you, I'm not expected to share about any topics, make any decisions or act on anything. So they won't be prettily worded or edited. I don't have drafts waiting to be published, I'll just open up the app and start writing. No schedule, not focused themes, no advice to impart. 

I actually have loads to share, my friend. I don't dare share it on platforms where I hope people will read, because they will judge me. Hopefully I will share it in my letters here. 

Signing off,
Your old friend

The house with the Lego

After visiting a few houses over the Chinese New Year holidays, I asked J:

Me: Did you enjoy going to different houses to play? 

J: yes! 

Me: Which one did you like?

J: the one with the Lego 😀

Me: of course! Good choice!

I hope my children never lose sight of the truly important things in life. Never get way laid by materials that impress the eyes. Only be surrounded by people who truly love and who are filled with love.

Mundane

The ordinary, seemingly boring things that we do day after day. The mundane.

In my teens and twenties, I would scoff at   writing and thinking about them. Who would be interested in reading about them. Why would anyone bother?

Well in my thirties now, the mundane things that my children and husband do are what I want never to end. Watching them sleeping peacefully, having them clambour onto me in the morning, the boys singing loudly together in the shower, goofily laughing at silly things, Chris running up to me with his mouth full of his Nutella sandwich, J dressed up in his self-designed superhero costume.. J eating his apple and looking like a chipmunk.. My hubby.. Everything he does is strange and hilarious! His constant Garfield-like demeanor poses a stark contrast to his quickstep, lightning speed actions when he is actually in motion. Until he settles back into a chair again, that is! His clumsiness, his pockets jingling and jangling when he walks due to his mints and coins and keys. His kangaroo pouch that never disappears even when he's lost some weight. His awkwardness in expressing his love, yet how proud he is of himself when he does manage to express himself😀 - childlike behavior that beats a suave guy anytime.

Who would be interested in reading about these mundane descriptions? It doesn't matter. In fact, the less people know, the more precious these memories are. They are memories only my little family will be able to appreciate fully because we are what make them. 

Not yet

Monday... Not yet..

I recall spending the entire weekend with the kids. No Saturday church class and we didn't attend mass as J and I aren't feeling well.... Especially J.

Chris is on the tail end of his viral fever and almost completely healed. Vader is somewhat well but I suspect not fully recovered. 

So we slept in, went out for a late breakfast or brunch. Grocery shopping, then headed home to read. The kids wanted early naps so we slept through lunch time on both Saturday and Sunday. 

We woke up for an early dinner, close to 5.30pm, which seems to work really really well. Then earlier showers and much more time for reading and even some tv! 

Then I realise... That I've lost track of time. I wake up at 1am, feeling wonderful and thinking about what we would doing the following morning with the kids. Then the heart stabbing pain of reality registers and I know I have to be at work in a few hours. I want to kick and cry and scream.

But I turn and look at my kids and I think it's ok. We have time. Not much left, but still time, yes. 

Wool

Pulled over my eyes 

In limbo, yet more settled

Nomadic, yet grounded

Distant, but more attached

Ageing, still sprouting

Fewer words, yet growing in understanding

Speeding forward, yet seeing in slow motion

My hand releases, my heart envelopes

My exterior, my inner self

My rock

My cushions

My parts and my whole.

My present and my future.

Overwhelmed, yet never tiring of it.