Where's Your Flag? [Introduction]

Yes, I know it has been AGES since I blogged. It has just been a crazy quarter of the year for me this 2010. As you would have probably realized by now (due to the sad lack of updates), I was in National Service for the first 2 months and 1 week of the year. Then I had my SPM results and working stint in a hospital for a week. So NOW, I’m finally, finally free to update this to prove that, ‘NO, THIS BLOG IS NOT DEAD’.

The problem with going away for so long is that I just have too much to write. I have just too much to say because I experienced so much. That was partly also the reason why I procrastinated blogging about my NS experience until now. It was information overload that whenever I start typing, I end up pressing the backspace button and the little red ‘X’ at the top right hand corner.

But the again, I realize if I don’t get moving on it, I’ll NEVER do it. So here goes.

One of the defining moments of NS is this – OUR COMPANY FLAG ALWAYS WENT MISSING. No, seriously. The thing is, we’re supposed to keep our flag with us at all times. Yes, even when we’re sleeping. Under no circumstances were we to ask someone else to take care of it for us. It was our responsibility and we were not even allowed to pass it to our Officer-in-Charge of our company.

But in a typical funny-now-but-not-so-funny-then moment, we handed it over to a trainer. That’s right. We HANDED IT OVER. You would think we learnt our lesson after writing 50 lines on how we will take care of our flag the same way we take care of out life but I beg to differ. The second time we lost it, it was because it was left in the guys’ dorm. This time, we had 125 lines. We felt like we were in pre-school again. The third time was classic, we just walked off and left it there in the hall. This time, the trainers hid our flag and we had to hunt for it while everyone else were collecting their handphones for the last time of camp. That’s right. WE LOST OUR FLAG WHEN THERE WAS ONLY 2 DAYS LEFT OF CAMP!!!

Even though I was frustrated beyond belief due to this, looking back, there are a lot of lessons to be drawn from these incidents. And a lot of parallels can be drawn to our character and life as a whole.

What is a flag?

A flag is a piece of fabric, often flown from a pole or mast, generally used symbolically for signaling or identification.

The key word here is this – IDENTIFICATION.

Throughout camp, I came to realize that our flag wasn’t just a piece of cloth. It was more than that. It symbolized our unity, our spirit, our determination, our character and our core values. It represented who we are and whenever anyone saw it, they knew that this flag was Alpha’s.

In the same way, we carry a flag with us in life too. Well, obviously we don’t lug around a piece of cloth and wave it wherever we go. The flag we carry about is not physically visible, but it is apparent in the way we lead our lives. After all, what it that people will remember us by?

It’s our CHARACTER.

That’s the flag we bring around. It represents who we are and whenever anyone sees it, they know whom it belongs to.

So from the three incidents where we lost our flags, I could draw three lessons.

First, that there are always people around and circumstances that will arise to steal your identity and corrupt your character. And sometimes, they don’t need to do it by force. We will willingly give in.

Second, there are also times when it is a collective responsibility to uphold what we believe in. One individual’s action will affect the whole team.

And third, if we are not careful, we will make the same mistake over and over again and compromising ourselves for the same vice.

So yes, I’ll divide this post into three sections because it will kill my eyes (and yours) if I were to put this in one MEGA post.

And Sarah-Ann, I will finish what I start. =)

Triple P's - Priorities, Principles, Perspective (Part 4)

It certainly has been a long time since I’ve updated my blog. I meant to write as soon as I finished SPM (Note, I finished on the 15^th of December, not on the 8^th like the majority of the other SPM-ers) but church events rolled one after another and the next thing I knew, it’s 2010!

Which then made me think, what do I write as the first post of the year? I was having a serious case of writer’s block (try writing Christmas cards, it drains the lust for writing out of anyone) and so decided to look through my old posts to see if I left anything unfinished. And guess what? I did! So this is my last one to finish up the Triple P’s – Priorities, Principles and Perspective series.

But then again, I didn’t really have anything to write about perspective. Until just now when I was sitting in my dad’s car on my way to my grandma’s.

There are two kinds of people in a moving car – drivers and passengers. Up till now, I am STILL a passenger because of the sad lack of driving license. I love being a passenger though. I get to daydream, blast my ipod and block all other noises out and laugh at funny shaped cars on the road. I get to sleep when I’m bored; sms because I have both hands free, play the PSP if my brother allows me too.... Basically, I’m just there to have fun – I’m there to go for a ride.

As much as I look forward to being able to drive, being a driver is very different from being a passenger. It’s not that the ride won’t be fun (FREEDOM OF MOVEMENT!!!) – it’s just that ‘fun’ isn’t the goal anymore. I’m going to have to think about where I’m going and about the safety of the passengers in the car with me. It may mean I can’t do whatever I want at any moment. Especially since my brother just looked over my shoulder and said, “Yeah jie, sms-ing while driving makes you six times as likely to crash”. Yes ah boi, I know. I’m responsible for getting to the destination. After all, I’m a driver now.

In life, we can choose to have the perspective of a Passenger or of a Driver. Being a driver is all about responsibility, of ownership. Unfortunately, many of us prefer to remain as passengers. When things go wrong, we go tend to point on fingers on everyone but ourselves. Example….

I wasn’t supposed to fail! It’s that darn teacher who failed me on purpose!

If only my parents…

If only my friends did this instead of that…

I’M NOT SHORT. IT’S JUST THAT EVERYONE’S TALLER THAN ME!

Ok, I’m joking about the last one. =)

The fact is, how will you see 2010? As a passenger, out to just ‘enjoy yet another year’ and refusing to take responsibility for anything and everything? Or as a driver, to realize that this year is entrusted to us to make the best out of it?

When we start taking responsibility for our life, that’s when we truly start living. When we start realizing that if it has to be, it has to be me, that’s when our life will start to count for something. Let’s not play the Cookie Jar game. You know, where we say, ‘Who stole the cookie from the cookie jar? Who me? Yes you! Couldn’t be! Then who?!’ Exactly, then who?

Take responsibility for our actions.

*Few things disturb other people more than someone who fails to take responsibility for their actions. This explains the feeling most Americans had during the Monica Lewinski scandal 1998. President Clinton had told everyone that he had not had sex with the White House intern. In August of 1998, he was forced to admit that he had engaged in sexual activity with her. This was enough to trouble some. However, the alarming point came when he gave his five-minute speech, confessing the whole thing. The majority of people were disappointed in the speech. A reporter examined the speech and uncovered why they felt the way they did:

Total number of words he used in the speech: 549 words

Number of words devoted to self-justification: 134 words

Number of words devoted to regret for actions: 4 words

Number of words devoted to attack the prosecutor: 180 words

Number of words devoted to saying it’s time to move on: 137 words

Number of words devoted to apology: NONE

It’s not about the mistakes we make this year, it’s about the integrity we exhibit when we take responsibility for them.

And that’s one of my challenge for the year. Will you make it yours too?

*Taken from Habitudes by Tim Elmore

Strength Training

So yes, this is the promised post. And although I had a lot of time to think of what to write, I only got a proper idea about an hour ago while cleaning my room. But hey, Archimedes got his epiphany in the bath (Eureka! I got it!) so mine pales in comparison.

Anyway, I’m standing in the calm of the storm now. It’s one of those rare moments nowadays where I am strangely serene and feeling at peace. Of course, these lucid flashes will promptly end in an hour or so and I shall be reduced to a bumbling mess once again. So, I shall quickly grab this opportunity before I forget what I wanted to write.

I was flipping through my literature notes just now and was looking back at some of the ‘insights’ I got from the novel, Holes. I think most of those in the same boat as I am are feeling particularly nostalgic towards the beckoning of exams. I know I did, because you never really know what you have until it’s gone.

Take for example, my brother. I see him, still in Form 2 (actually, it doesn’t really count anymore as the school term is ending) and for him, school is still a long process which seems to have no end. There is next year, and the year after next and then yet another year. And for him, it doesn’t really matter if he didn’t remember everything good about his school because it is not going to end ‘anytime soon’.

‘Anytime soon’.

That was our catch phrase for years. It never mattered if we didn’t appreciate what we have then because we always had tomorrow. But now, my tomorrows are limited. Yet, I’m not here to reminisce about my years in secondary school. I’d do that, but only when school is really over for me. Now, I’m just thinking about a conversation I had with my dad just a few days before starting Form Four.

Me: What if I can’t do well? I mean, it’s a totally different ball game; it’s going to be a lot tougher. It’s not PMR. What if I can’t keep up?

Dad: The thing about growth is that it allows expand and do things we feel we cannot do. Like now, you feel like you can’t because you haven’t started! But just as you age, your capacity in life will and should increase. Likewise, your capacity to learn will increase. I’m sure you can do it.

That seemed so long ago but I still remember it. And I’ve got a lot to thank God for in this whole journey. And it seems apt that the ‘insight’ I was reading from Holes was this:

Elya Yelnats was supposed to carry Madame Zeroni up a mountain. However, he wasn’t physically strong to carry her immediately. He had to undergo ‘training’, by carrying a growing pig up the mountain every day. As the pig grew heavier, Elya became stronger.

In the same way, Stanley Yelnats, the great-great grandson of Elya Yelnats was supposed to carry Hector Zeroni, the great grandson of Madame Zeroni up Big Thumb, a mountain. However, Stanley too wasn’t strong enough to carry him. He had to undergo training by digging holes every day. The longer he dug, the stronger he became. At last, he was finally strong enough to carry Hector up the mountain.

In both scenarios, we see that enthusiasm is not enough to get the job done. Effort and hard work is needed as well.

In the same way, this exam is going to not just going to be an end point for my school life, it’s also a training process for more to come. After all, what doesn't kill us makes us stronger!

The horse is made ready for the day of battle, but victory rests with the Lord. Proverbs 21:31

Ultimately, I’m leaving it in God’s hands. And of course, there’s a note in front of me now saying, ‘Lord, help me remember that nothing is going to happen today that You and I can’t handle’.

All the best to all of us SPM-ers and we’ll see each other at the finish line!

This Would Be So Cool at KTM

Hiatus

This isn't a post. It's a line to say, I'm so sorry I haven't posted anything up. Partly because I'm busy doing what every normal seventeen-year-olds-sitting-for-SPM-in-less-than-a-month's-time do. And I'm out of ideas. Wait, no that was yesterday. I have a good idea now (since I squandered an hour on the phone talking to JASMINE yesterday) but I lack motivation to get it done nicely.

So, I'll make sure that post comes up before SPM starts and that'll probably be my last one for a long, long time (BECAUSE I FINISH A WHOLE WEEK LATER THAN EVERYONE ELSE).

So, don't scold me because my blog's dead! It's not dead... It's... Hibernating. =)

But a big thank you for those who constantly remind me to keep writing! I will, I will. =)

P.S I just realised this is nowhere close to 'a line'. Well, anyone who know's anything about me know I can't stop at one line. Haha!

Endless Potential

Photo courtesy of Sammy Liew

********************

“Where are you headed next year?"

Sigh.

When you’re a senior in high school, it’s a given that everyone you come in contact with is going to ask you a variation of the Question within thirty seconds of saying “Hey.” So you’d better have a fast answer.

Jessica Darling from Second Helpings by Megan McCafferty

I can identify with this actually, considering that I’m hearing the Question almost everywhere I go. As of yet, I usually just go, ‘National Service (yes, I got selected)’. Sometimes, the questioner laughs and I change the topic. Sometimes however, that’s not enough. I’m still working out the kinks to the perfect less-than-thirty-seconds answer.

But it’s getting increasingly difficult to remain nonchalant about this.

I realised this yesterday.

Then again, I get most of my epiphanies during English 2.

This is a chronological sequence of events.

I started the paper. I stopped after half an hour and day dreamed for 15 minutes. I continued the paper for another half an hour and day dreamed another 15 minutes. I had ONE HOUR for the literature component so I sat back and day dreamed for yet another 30 minutes. All in all, I wasted one hour out of a two and a half hour paper day dreaming.

But hey, at least I didn’t sleep!

While I was day dreaming, I was doodling loop-d-loops on my spare piece of paper. In pen, mind you. As it is, this was a risky thing because I only had 2 pieces of paper. So if I don’t have enough, I either have to shrink my writing to microscopic size OR whisper conspiratorially to the person behind me for paper.

But after I handed in my exam paper, I saw the loop-d-loops and they looked like a fancy string of zero’s.

ZERO.

I like the number zero; it holds endless potential to be anything.

Likewise, I’m at the crossroads and there’s just so much I want to do, to achieve. And you have everyone around us saying, nobody can predict the future, nobody can determine the outcome of your potential.

I’m dreaming big – as big as I can. The number ‘Zero’ for me represents just that, dreams and potential.

But the thing about zero is, on its own, it’s pretty much useless. The number zero alone is not even a significant figure. Only when it is paired with something else other than another zero will it be significant.

Stanley watched him write it over and over again.

Zero Zero Zero Zero Zero Zero Zero …

In a way, it made him sad. He couldn’t help but think that a hundred times zero was still nothing.

Holes by Louis Sachar

As the saying goes, passion without action is merely an emotion. The same here, dreams and potential without effort will remain just that – dreams.

We all have our zero’s, some have whole string of them, some have just one. But then again, are we putting other numbers into them to make that dream a reality?

0000 or 1000?

Big difference.

What are you going to do about your dream?

Don’t let those zero’s remain just that – zero’s.

P.S At the same time, this zero reminded me of my walk with God. About how me alone is just a string of zero’s. Only when God comes into the picture as a totally different number, will my life count for something. Well, the number may not be huge or prominent, but it’ll be significant. And that’s what counts.

P.S 2 If you were wondering, I managed to fit everything into one page in the exam. =)

Triple P's - Priorities, Principles, Perspective (Part 3)

But take heart.

And read what does happen when you take a stand for what is right.

In the fourth century there lived an Asiatic monk who had spent most of his life in a remote prayer community, raising vegetables for the cloister kitchen. When he was not tending his garden spot, he was fulfilling his vocation of study and prayer.

Then one day, this monk, named Telemachus, felt that God wanted him to go to Rome, the capital of the world - the busiest, wealthiest, biggest city in the world. Telemachus had no idea why he shoud go there, and he was terrified at the thought. But as he prayed, God's directive became clear.

How bewildered the little monk must have been as he set out on the long journey, on foot, over dusty roads westward, everything he owned on his back! Why was he going? He didn't know. What would he find there? He had no idea. But obediently, he went.

Telemachus arrived in Rome during the holiday festival. You may know that the Roman rulers kept the ghettos in those days by providing free bread and special entertainment called circuses. At the time Telemachus arrived, the city was also bustling with excitement over the recent Roman victory over the Goths. In the midst of this jubilant commotion, the monk looked for clues as to why God had brought him there, for he had no guidance, not even a superior in a religious order to contact.

Perhaps, he thought, it is not sheer coincidence that I have arrived at this festival time. Perhaps God has some special role for me to play.

So Telemachus let the crowds guide him, and the stream of humanity soon led him into the Coliseum, where the gladiator contests were to be staged. He could hear the cries of the animals in their caves beneath the floor of the great arena and the clamour of the contestants preparing to do battle.

The gladiators marched into the arena, saluted the emperor, and shouted, "We who are about to die salute thee." Telemachus shuddered. He had never heard of gladiator games before, but had a premonition of awful violence.

The crowd had come to cheer man who, for no reason other than amusement, would murder each other. Human lives were offered for entertainment. As the monk realized what was going to happen, he realized he could not sit still and watch such savagery. Neither could he leave and forget. He jumped to the top of the perimeter wall and cried, "In the name of Christ, forbear! Stop!"

The fighting began, of course. No one paid the slightest heed to the puny voice. So Telemachus pattered down the stone steps and leapt onto the sandy floor of the arena. He made a comic figure - a scrawny man in a monk's habit dashing back and forth between muscular, armed athletes. One gladiator sent him sprawling with a blow from his shield, directing him back to his seat. It was a rough gesture, though almost a kind one. The crowd roared.

But Telemachus refused to stop. He rushed into the way of those trying to fight, shouting again, "In the name of Christ, forbear!" The crowd began laughing and cheer him on, perhaps thinking him part of the entertainment.

Then his movement blocked the vision of one of the contestants; the gladiator saw a blow coming just in time. Furious now, the crowd began to cry for the interloper's blood. They started burying him under a hailstone of projectiles and stones.

"Run him through!" they screamed.

The gladiator he had blocked raised his sword and with a flash of steel struck Telemachus, slashing down across his chest and into his stomach. The little monk gasped once more, "In the name of Christ, forbear."

Then a strange thing occured. As the two gladiators and the crowd focused on the still form on the suddenly crimson sand, the arena fell deathly quiet. In the silence, someone in the top tier got up and walked out. Another followed. All over the arena, spectators began to leave, until the huge stadium was emptied.

There were other forces at work, of course, but that innocent figure lying in the pool of blood crystallized the opposition, and that was the last gladiatorial contest in the Roman Coliseum. Never again did men kill each other for the crowds' entertainment in the Roman arena.*

There are several versions to this story but the fact remains that Telemachus stood by his convictions and change ensured.

So now, how will you respond? Will you say, "Good story, but no big deal"? Or will you consider, what shall you live by?

It's your call now.

P.S And for us who know, it is not just about What Will Jesus Do but What Will You Do about What Will Jesus Do? I know, it's a mouthful and it won't into a wristband nicely. However, that's a more pertinent question to ask, isn't it?

*Taken from No Compromise, Day 49.