Releasing a Friend but Keeping the Inspiration

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Hug a Friend

My last post was all about me releasing things that were just excess baggage in my life, literally. I had to say goodbye to things that I know I worked really hard for to buy and own, and used with love they were. (well cared for/preloved) Many of those things I’m throwing out had many wonderful memories for me, like my kids’ clothes, souvenirs from our family trips and other knick-knacks like birthday presents.

The day I wrote that post, the same afternoon, I received a tragic news. A dear friend who’s been battling with cancer for like the past ten years has finally blown her last breath that morning. I was just teary that morning from feeling sad but high, about making spiritual space in my life for new things and experiences when this email hit me like a ton of bricks.

I shouldn’t feel this sad, considering that she wasn’t like my best friend or close family member but I did. I felt my legs almost giving way in the middle of a busy riding stable and the tears just started flowing rapidly. Another close friend from my life in the UK, L.H, who was the bearer of that sad news, had sent out an email a few days earlier, informing all friends of her deteriorating health and if we wanted to visit, we might consider hurrying up. My heart so desperately wanted to fly over to the UK but with my DH already living in Basel, Switzerland and with 3 kids at home, 2 of whom are in school, my mind won over my heart. Practical Ar’nie won over Impractical, Spontaneous Ar’nie.

This friend’s name was A’isya Pellew, born Phoebe Sarah Pellew. She was a Muslim convert due to her marriage to an Arab but I understood that her faith deepened only after they were divorced when her 2 boys were a few years old. We met at a fair in Farnham Maltings, another Singaporean friend and I. I really can’t remember for the life of me the circumstances of how we met but more importantly was that the connection was made. She was ever so friendly, with life and energy in every single cell of her body.

I found out that she was a double breast cancer survivor and that she’s been given the ‘death sentence’ by the doctors a few times but she said, she’s not ready yet to go. She was still going for therapy to keep it in check but boy, you just cannot tell with this woman! She was writing a book on the history of Prophet Muhammad’s wife, her namesake. She was always out and about and she was still wisecracking! When I asked her what her secret was to keep her body and mind healthy, she told me that she will only eat fresh, organic meat and vegetables and always in season. Having enough rest but keeping the mind busy with learning new information was another tip.

I found out after I left the UK in 2008 that she was ill again. Over the next couple of years, cancer started spreading again. Despite her best effort, it spread to her lungs, stomach and towards the end, to her bones. When I last visited her 2 years ago, she was physically half the A’isya I remembered. Her hair was falling out and her body was looking weaker but her mind was still sharp. She gave me resource books and had printed out information to help with my dream of writing my own book one day. She was still encouraging me to get going despite her own situation in a stall.

I had to release…

A’isya left behind 2 handsome sons and a beautiful granddaughter but to me, she left me an inspiration and her own legacy. I may be quite upset that I didn’t get to visit and hug her one last time but her death has also made me realised that she has meant quite a lot to me. Just by being who she was and talking the way she did, I have gained from her! Isn’t that what friendship is all about? Without actually taking physically, I’m receiving so much.

A’isya has taught me, more importantly, that whatever negative things life throws at you, you got to keep fighting it and never to give up easily. Even in the face of death, stay strong and positive. Now that’s a lesson all of us can learn from, no?

I declare that I release her from my yearnings of her company and her friendship to the Heavens above. May she be free from the pain of cancer and finally find peace with angels surrounding her. May she finally be the Goddess I think she is. Amen!

 

A Releasing Exercise

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Throw it Away?

Now that the non-holiday cobwebs are slowly leaving my foggy lack-of-sleep brain, I have to get back to reality of life here in The Hague. That reality is that we are moving away from here to set up life in the Swiss/French border due to my DH’s new job.

I’ve been planning lunches with old friends, talking shop with business contacts and almost oblivious that moving day is coming closer. It took my friend Michelle to look me in the eye and say to me,

“Honey, you’re moving in 2 months! You have a big family so you have so much to go through! Now get going!”

How right is she! Now despite relocating every 2-4 years, I still own many things, collectibles like paintings and rugs, which to others are not conducive to this lifestyle. I have folders and folders of my 2 girls artwork for example, from my DD1’s childish doodles 10 years ago to current ‘masterpieces’. I have also kept books from school, more than 20 yrs ago. There’s something about perusing through Romeo and Juliet or Animal Farm with the numerous notations in the sidebars. And being a family of book lovers, we barely throw away books that we bought. I have also kept many things from DD1 that was passed on to DD2 and will soon go to DS3.

This is where opportunity for change can come in. I’ve always maintained that I don’t like waste and like recycling so hand-me-downs are great. Waiting until birth to find out the sex of our last child, I can finally set my mind what needs to be put away and what can stay. My children are very lucky to be blessed with many gifts of beautiful clothes and fancy toys that wherever we live, it’s always overflowing with them.

For someone who loves collecting, I also find it important to go through our possessions periodically to get a sense of what we own and throw away what aren’t necessary in our lives. I have been doing just that the last few days. Finally took Michelle’s advice and started with my kids clothes. There is something very cathartic about this exercise I must admit.

Picking up every single item of dress or pants or top, looking for stains, I thought about how much they cost originally, who gave or bought them, how much wear did they get out of it and other memories attached to it. It brought me tears as much as smiles. But we all know, those memories in our mind are worth more than keeping sacks of those ‘memories’ in our house.

It’s also liberating to give! I found out that a kindly and honest woman takes all your unwanted items to orphanages/children’s home in Romania. I’ve arranged for her to take those 5 black bin bags full of baby/children’s clothes, toys and other bits and bobs from various parts of my cavernous house. I feel peaceful to know that other unfortunate children will be able to create new memories with my children’s old belongings.

It’s not only giving that’s liberating. Just the act of periodically releasing ourselves of material possessions, possessions that we own for the sake of buying them, not for their intrinsic value, gives that peaceful feeling in your mind.

Oprah Winfrey once stated on her show that when it comes to many of our possessions, if you haven’t used it, remembered it or even looked at it in the past 3 years, then you don’t need it. It clicked in my head and I have tried to live by that adage since.

Have you been periodically releasing the shackles of material possessions? Was it just as liberating for you as it is for me? Share your experience with me!

Another Year, Another Ring Around the Sun

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Traditional Malay Archipelago Wedding Costume. Note my Indian Heritage Henna painted hands.

Wow! Time flies when you’re having fun they say, well ‘they’ are too right!

I felt like I’ve just professed my love for my perfect other half (significant other) just recently and today we’re crossing another milestone, another year of married life. Hmm…it’s so hard to believe that these ‘young at heart’ couple are parents to a 10-year and 4-year-old girls and a 9-month-old baby boy. We own our own home, live in a good street, have 2 cars and 3 cats, how domestic.

For those that read my story last year, you’ll know how much we had to fight the outside world to get to this level of love and commitment. People and circumstances have tried to pull us apart but what can’t break us can only make us stronger.

Today I’d like to announce to the world, I am in love!! Still in love!!

Today is Anders and my 10th wedding anniversary. Wow!! We’ve been married 10 yrs and together a bit more than that. In this modern age of quick marriages and even quicker divorces, I feel that what we have must be really awesome to withstand the test of time.

When we first met, we were with other partners. But deep inside, we both felt a connection. This connection was so deep that every time we bumped into each other, it just felt stronger and stronger. As the heavens would have it, we got together in the end after ending our own relationships with the exes.

We have been through 3 marriages i.e weddings in the space of a year. One, in the eyes of God, two, in the eyes of society and family and three, in the eyes of the law. Oh boy, was it hard to get there. I had to fight so hard to be with the man I love. One of them was with my own estranged dad who decided he wanted to sabotage our union. Then Anders’s visa was cancelled just before our Singapore wedding. That was just the tip of the iceberg.

Many people doubt that our union will last. Tongues were wagging even during our S’pore wedding amongst the invited guests. People were saying things like, “Ar’nie is the disco queen, loves partying, she’ll never make him happy”.. “Oh he’s white, he’s bound to leave her when the going gets rough, back to his homeland”.. Oh there’s just a few of the hurtful things people say when they are prejudiced. Even till today, I know a few family members still doubting our union. My late grannie said the best way to tell them off is to show otherwise. “Show them your love is pure and for eternity. I know you will stay together long after I’ve blown my last breath”.

Well, she has blown her last breath only months after Adeena was born almost 10 yrs ago and glory to God and the Universe, our love has grown only stronger. The things that we have had to go through as a couple, would only have made the weaker ones divorced a loooong time ago. From almost financial ruins, to global transitions to job changes to more financial difficulty to building and renovating our own houses and the birth of 2 children and more life experiences….

2010 is the beginning of a new era. We have grown older and wiser and thankfully we have grown TOGETHER. We have decided on new directions in our lives and a third child is being sent our way. In the words of many psychics whom I’ve had the pleasure of meeting, we were matched made in Heaven. And may Heaven too keep us going for another 10 or more years.

But I pray that after this 10 somewhat hard years, it will be more smooth sailing so that our laughters are not tinged with a little sadness. I still am so IN love with the man I met, the one who has never stopped making me laugh, the one I always enjoy waking up next too, the one I can never be angry for too long, the one I think is an undiscovered genius, the one I love making love to, the one who makes me want to be the best. HE IS THE BEST!! Father, husband, lover and son.

For those of you walking our path, if you know that your love is pure and true, never be afraid to walk on your own, just the two of you. For all you know, there are 2 angels walking alongside you and guiding you to your own happiness.

Anders Krogh, I will marry you all over again if I have to!

-note written in my Facebook profile 15/04/2010

Here are a few pictures of our weddings (the two in Singapore and Denmark).

Picture from Singapore Wedding, another traditional Malay Archipelago style made in Indian saree material.
I did my own hair, makeup and styling for this perfect wedding day in June in Denmark.
I feel truly beautiful and loved this day and every day…

With the baby finally here and another international move in the next few months for this nomadic family and a stressful time with yours truly in the hospital, you bet we are ready for another ring around the sun!

For those of you looking for a new direction on your love and relationships front, “The Goddess in Love” Coaching sessions will start again after summer 2011. Whether in person or through Skype, one to one sessions are the perfect way for you to learn my secrets of being passionately in love after more than 11 years with the same man. Contact me via goddesscoaching@gmail.com

My Life Changing Day

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By the time you read this blog, I’ll be down for the count so to say. Hopefully, I’m in the land of deep sleep, in a sterile condition, surrounded by an expert and his assisting team.

I’m finally going for an operation that is necessary and no matter how I’ve delayed it, the day will and has come. I am having a growth, a cyst, and my thyroid (throat) bone removed today.

For as long as I can remember from my youth, I’ve always been blighted by throat problems. Whether it was laryngitis or throat infection, there was always something affecting that area one way or another.

Some years back, I was going through severe emotional and financial upheaval, both as an entrepreneur and as a woman. When your mind is under such duress, it’s not surprising that my physical body finally succumbed to another infection in my throat.

When I finally saw an ENT (Ear, Nose, Throat) specialist, I had a small lump growing in the middle of my neck. He stuck a syringe in and instead of injecting, he aspirated a sizable amount of yellow fluid. He told me I had an infection in the sac that sits in front of my throat. This condition is not something that was caused by any ‘wrongdoing’ on my part but it happened at the embryonic stage. It is a remnant of what is now my thyroid glands.

To cut a story short, I was told that sooner or later, I’ll need to get it surgically removed or it can get infected more often and who knows what else will happen. The word surgery scared me straightaway and I told myself, who wants an ugly scar across the neck?!

As it happens, more infections did come! Coupled with the stress of having a third baby, made the lump noticeably bigger. I even had someone asked me if I was a ladyboy! That, I could take with a laugh but the low-grade pain every day was not something I cherish.

Despite the pain and slight embarrassment of awkward questioning, I thought of many reasons why I was resistant to the idea of surgery. I’ve never had to be in a hospital for any surgery of any kind. Besides childbirth (gynaecological) reasons, I’ve managed to stay away from hospitals as I’ve been relatively healthy most of my life.

I also worry about the fact that with the surgery, I’ll be away from my kids especially my baby, who turns 9 months yesterday. I’ve never been away, not even for 1 night, from my two eldest girls as I was a fully breastfeeding mum for the full 24 months I nursed them. Now I feel guilty that Asger will not have the comfort of my bosoms for 2 nights. I know he’ll survive but will my bosoms understand the lack of a tiny pair of hands caressing it, looking for love and nourishment?

I joked to the surgeon about being scared of the pain after the surgery. But as a holistic therapist and coach, I’ve helped many clients through their own pain by teaching them techniques to manage the pain. So what exactly was stopping or delaying my decision to go for surgery?

I searched myself and I found the answer. That answer is: I was afraid of giving up my power. Power over my own body. After incidences in my past, I’ve taught myself to be the real boss of my own body and mind.

I am it’s only caretaker as I only have this one to look after. The idea that I will be totally unconscious while ‘strangers’ fiddle around with my body, cutting my skin open, does give me a slight chill.

It doesn’t help that I’m a bit of a perfectionist and I do wonder if the surgeon will have a good sewing skill. My DH joked that if I could suture up myself, I would.

Yes, I’ve finally plucked up the courage to change my life today. Today is a day of many first but I hope a surgery on my body will also be the last. The memory and scar will serve to remind me that I was strong enough to give up my power.

May God give me strength. Have you had to give up your power for the greater good?

My last pic of my lovely neck before a scalpel cuts it open. 🙂

Lessons You Can Learn From Horse Riding

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Lessons from Horses

Today I wanted to share what I have suddenly realized after weeks and months and years of sending my DD1 to her horse riding lessons. Giving my mummy’s encouragement and sharing lessons I’ve learnt as a rider myself. I mean, week in, week out seeing similar things, you’re bound to pick up a thing or two. I want to share lessons about horses and horse riding and how you can benefit from it.

You have to bear with me, keep reading; all will be revealed at the end.

Let me tell you first about a horse’s typical character. A horse is a pack animal, therefore, it needs a clear leader. It can sense very well its rider’s feelings and also subtle differences in the surroundings that many people say they are psychic. Horses are very quick learners and therefore respond just as quick to changes to its habits and surroundings.

When you first get on a horse, you may feel a bit scared, worried, a bit wobbly maybe, but there are others who just get excited at the prospect of riding- the feeling of being free. You take the reins, put your boots into the stirrups and grip the horse’s flanks with your thighs. You take a deep breath, loosen up your shoulders, and straighten up your spine and then, what?

What happens next could be up to you or up to the horse. Scenario 1 is that you click your tongue to the horse, tighten up your reins, give a little snap of your crop to its shoulder, and encourage your horse to move forward. You let the horse walk slowly while you get comfortable. Then, you think, I can go a little bit faster. You encourage the horse to go faster by clicking your tongue some more, another snap of your crop and you press your heels into his flanks. The horse goes into a canter whereby you have to do some work yourself. You need to periodically straighten up your knees i.e almost standing up and down working with the horse’s rhythm.

The slight up and down movement of cantering

Once in a while, you slightly lurch forward. At that moment you think, oh am I going to fall forward? No, it’s just the horse having to scratch an itch on its knee or lower shoulder. As long as you keep a good hold of the reins, your horse will keep going forward despite those slight setbacks.

You know that being an animal that needs a clear leader, you pull your rein to the left and you decide that you’d quite like your horse to take you for a tour of the dunes and beach nearby. You tell your horse to keep going by giving it the same consistent signals you’ve been giving it before. You are quite liking this feeling of being high above the ground and seeing the beauty around you. As you see the dunes coming nearby (you know too that the expanse of the beach is just beyond) you whisper to your horse to go faster. You don’t know whether your horse can understand English, Dutch, Spanish, Malay or whatever language you speak. But as I mentioned, they’re psychic, they can sense what you want if your body language is clear enough.

You go into an even faster canter; you have to move up and down more than you did before. As you move faster, you start to feel a little scared, will I fall off the horse, you ask yourself. But you have to trust the horse to get you to that beautiful beach you know is just yonder. You see, riding a horse is all about trust. If your instructions to your horse are clear, you have to trust it to take you there.

You can feel the sea breeze and hear the waves lapping at the shore, as you get closer. Your heart is leaping in your ribcage at the prospect of getting to be at the water’s edge. As you get there, you see the long expanse of white sands, glistening under the sun’s rays. You finally decide that this is it; you have to take the chance.

At full gallop, the rider hardly sits on the saddle.

You crop your horse 2 or 3 times more, you click your tongue twice more to let your horse know you want it to go full speed, the gallop! You are still a little bit scared but the prospect of letting the wind throw your hair round at speed and finally seeing that trusting relationship to the max is just very exciting. Only this time at full gallop, your horse is doing 90% of the hard work. All you need to do is sit tight, slightly higher above your saddle and hold on tight to that reins. Your horse will now gallop at full speed right on the water’s edge, splashing some cool drops onto your face. Both your hair/mane are flying wild in the wind, both of you completely feeling the freedom of those moments, high above the ground.

You realized that this is the pinnacle of horse riding itself. Being able to build that trust with your horse to look after you just as that horse trust you to be an able leader/horseman.

Wow! Wasn’t that an exciting scenario? Now, what about scenario 2? It can happen this way. You get on the saddle, put your boots into the stirrups, hold the reins and then you wait around. Your horse just stands still. You kick it hard in its flanks, it walks a few steps forward then stops. You pull the reins towards you thinking you’re jerking its head to let it know you want it to move, not knowing what that means to stop.

Your horse starts to get confused. It’s thinking, does my rider want me to go forward or stay still? You keep telling your horse to move. It moves forward, then to the left, making a circle after, then to the right. You are thinking, what is this horse doing, where is it taking me? Your horse now wants to go into the woods and starts cantering in that direction. When you get near, you start thinking, I don’t really want to go into this dark forest but you’ve forgotten that you are the leader of your horse.

All this while your horse is thinking, I fancy taking myself here and since my rider hasn’t given me any clear directions where I’m supposed to go, I’ll decide for myself. It stops periodically to scratch its knee and chews on some grass. You realize now it’s getting even darker and you are not where you think you want to be. But do you even know where you want to go? You start to get more panicky and scream at the horse to move along. In it’s scared state, it bucks and almost thrash you on the ground. Phew, you are lucky.

You are still on the horse and now it knows that you are not getting off its back. It accepts that you’re going to stay there. Now you have to learn really quickly how to calmly lead it out of the forest with the right instructions and body language. You know you can make it out as you begin to trust that your horse too wants you safe.

But don’t you wish you had given it much more thought earlier?

So what is the point of my story?

If you have been reading carefully, slowly start to ‘substitute’ horse for LIFE itself. For me, I am the horseman/woman of my own life and if I don’t have clear directions, how can I expect life to take me where I think I want to go. Like in scenario 1, when you have done the hard work, life will take care of you and itself. It rewards your hard work with beauty: in your mind, in your eyes, all around you. You just have to know how you want to get there.

The sun, sea, waves and wind all around you…Beauty in it’s purest form

So where do you want your horse to take you?

What Label Am I- An Expat or Nomad?

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Labels! Labels! Labels! From birth to death, we are given titles and labels to define who we are. Whether it is self-given or put on by society at large, at one time or another, a label is named after our name unofficially.
I am at another stage in my life now where another international move is inevitable and I’m questioning my label again- that of the title expat or nomad. Yes, after quite a blissful 3.5 years in the Netherlands, DH has accepted another job offer in another country and we have again to ‘up sticks’.
But let me start from the beginning about the title expat or nomad, which one do I choose? As young as I could remember, the term expat has always meant to me ‘the rich white family that came to Singapore’ under the guidance of a huge Western Bank like ABN Amro or some gas/oil company like BP or Shell. They get given a huge kick a** bungalow in District 10 in Singapore (kind of like Kensington in London or Beverly Hills in California), they get a nice car with a Malay driver, an Indonesian or Chinese live-in housekeeper and a big pay package with the ability to go home for one month a year. They socialize only with other expats in the same echelons as them and they look down on us poor locals. (I got that impression as a 6-year old that faced her first discrimination when an Aussie lady threw water and eggs at me for daring to sit near her mansion gate).

Then when I became a working adult, the term expat shifted to younger white males (predominantly) coming to Singapore to take on upper middle management jobs in either foreign or local companies. They may not have as good perks as their forebears but still higher salary than locals in similar positions. They still hang around amongst themselves in expat enclaves. But then, what I didn’t realise then was I myself became an expat when I accepted a job as a DJ/Entertainer in Beijing, China at the young age of 17.

I was working for a very big hotel (Shangri La) and hung around with other expats though I always enjoyed sneaking around hanging out with the local Chinese staff. (we were not really encouraged). That was the beginning of my foreign job attachment. Since then, I went to a few more countries working as an entertainer. But I never did think of myself as an expat as the term has a ‘dirty’ connotation to me- that of an overpaid underworked foreign person who doesn’t really interact with locals.

When I met DH, he himself was a foreign guy in Singapore but he doesn’t think of himself as an expat either. He was living a local life after he moved there from his university in Australia to be with his Singapore girlfriend, who then became his first wife. He lived in an HDB (‘government issued apartment’), ate and drank in a local ‘kopitiam’ (coffee shop) and earned a pittance (compared to his expat compatriots) despite his degree.

A few years after we met (and a few short terms placements after), he decided that he wanted to work in Europe (after being away for almost half his life) and took a job offer in England. Living in rural Surrey, there was no such thing as being an expat. You’re either English or you’re not, we felt. People there didn’t understand the concept of moving for a job overseas, certainly not the mums at the local school, who didn’t know how to deal with my situation.

It was there that I met a psychic who told me, “You and your husband are a match made in Heaven. You both love travelling and cannot stay in one place too long. You are like Gypsies.”

Almost 4 years in England, another exciting job offer in the Netherlands beckoned us over. Moved here we did January 2008. It was here then that the term expat was attached to us again. We knew the term expat here in the Netherlands has become to mean non-Dutch citizens who move here as an economic migrant. But still, DH and I don’t really feel we suit the term. There are other expats who get given a much higher salary for their jobs, who get all-inclusive deals like housing, car and international schools all paid for. We are then semi-expats in our minds.

I’ve also heard of the term nomads. According to http://www.globalnomads-dc.org/A global nomad is anyone of any nationality who has lived outside their parents’ country of origin (or their “passport country”) before adulthood because of a parent’s occupation. Then it that case, that refers to my 3 children, all conceived in 3 different countries and have lived in 3.5 different countries collectively. They are also labelled ‘Third Culture Kids’ as they are a product of a mixed marriage (maybe a Fourth or Fifth Culture Kid as I myself am already a TCK!).

Whatever happens and where we go next, I think I know the term I feel I am most comfortable with. Funny enough, I heard DH telling someone on the phone when asked why he ‘loves’ moving countries for his job. His answer?

Because I am a Gypsy at heart!

Whatever the connotations are with that word, yes, I like it! Call me a Gypsy next time you see me!

I know where I’d like to move to retire! Southern France!

p.s. When and where we’re moving to will be the next post in this theme.

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