The hardest thing you will ever do...

What is it? I've never been one to give up, in fact, I've never reached the point where I've said I would give up. But last Saturday at 7am in the morning, I sat on the rocks on the final stretch of Mt Rinjani and uttered the words, "guys, I don't think I can do this".

There is something very scary about looking inside and finding...nothing. Nothing but a gaping abyss where once your goals and hopes and dreams used to once upon a time sit. Nothing in the strength of motivation or that little niggling competitiveness that pushes you to want to even TRY. Nothing.

That stretch of Mt Rinjani could act as a metaphor for my work life currently, where sometimes I just sit back, look at what I'm doing and wonder whether there's anything more to this. I do not want to be 40 and be facing the same set of work. I really don't. That is what I'm so sure at this point, if of nothing else.

Anyway, Rinjani was a refreshing, albeit an out of character moment for me, normally I would be the person hauling everyone else up the mountain but this time I just felt. Tired. Mentally and physically. That being said, some of the best moments on this trip proved to me as it always happens to be, that when you put your mind to it, you can do anything. Absolutely anything. Even when you have nothing left to pull out.

Other moments like sitting by a firelight, finally feeling warm. There's something so elemental about a fire, after all we are reliant on aircons most of the time, but a fire? A fire for warmth and not for cooking...now that is a treat, and makes me marvel at how life can be so different by circumstance. I could be in a tent in the middle of a Sahara living a nomadic lifestyle, or at the top of the highest skyscraper on this earth. All because of where I am born, and maybe that's what is so interesting about life, that everyone lives it so, so differently, and yet we only catch but an inkling of what life is like for some people outside of the radius of our normal lives. And maybe this was always the case through history? That everyone lived so differently, settled across continents, lives taking shape and taking root until we all ended up with different languages, culture, skin colour, food.

Stories, stories of death. Of life. Of magical caves that deem you worthy of entering. Of seven mysterious deaths off a cliff. Of things within the crater lake. Things that you respect. Especially when being told in the dead of the night in a forest. Good god.

Sometimes you're faced with unexplained things, which you have to just accept as is. There are things in this world that cannot be explained. Reality is at best tenuous.

Stories

A lady stands encircled by the flickering lights of faux candles in a darkened box theatre past midnight. Third in line and following two named and known performers, she waits patiently as her mic stand is being fixed, barefoot, she is elegant, graceful, lithe and pixie looking. Long fingers, long neck. Sharp nose, delicate eyes and a delicate face. She is mesmerizing. A scarf gracefully encircles her black-clad frame much as theatre performers dress, with the goal of not distracting from expressions and voices.

Taking the time given, she raises all 10 fingers of her hand, telling us that we are going to make it rain. Intrigued my first thought is, voodoo? Rain dance? Before embarrassingly, begin to clap. One finger against a palm. Two fingers against a palm. Three and four fingers against a palm. The box theatre echoes to the rhythmically flawed pitter patter of fingers on palm much like the droplets of scattering rain and I begin to be aware and delight in the aural sounds emanating from such a simple exercise. The men are ordered to stomp their right feet and thunder is then produced before the dying droplets echo and we return to silence.

She follows the rain with an interlude of an old tale. That of a sick grandmother, a loaf of bread and a hunters daughter. Ending doesn’t quite follow the tales of yore though, a rather Maleficent twist-Game of Thrones ends up being the conclusion of this prelude before she launches into the final tale of the night. No reading from the sheets of paper or ipad for this one, no, everything in her mind. Hands fluttering to convey the sense of a Moghul’s palace bedecked for a wedding ceremony, hands slitting a throat and hands riding a horse. Hands graceful as a traditional Indian dancers, voice as elegant and expressions as beautiful.

I am intrigued and inspired, storytelling has been elevated to a level I have never seen before and reminds me yet again how intertwined the arts are, between visuals, aural, rhythm, imagination. Between stories, dance, music and writing. The arts may often be cast aside in favour of their less imaginative counterparts, the math, the sciences and the facts, but nothing can grab your imagination more than the beauty of a simple rhythm, the swoop of a silk clad, heel shod boleo or the sounds of a voice telling you a beautiful. Story.

Foodie trips

Had a quick getaway this past weekend to Ipoh and Penang with the Ethos bunch before the workload starts for the next 3 months. I foresee no holidays until Rinjani, but at least the dry-spell of no public holidays gets broken next Thursday, woot!

Went to Ipoh, ate brekkie stuff, waited eons for the chicken hor fun at Thean Chun before wondering around the Kong Heng/Plan B around the corner. Left for Penang, stopped by Jalan Penang for Cendol and Assam Laksa, then got into the hotel and promptly ended up by the poolside sipping cocktails. Seafood dinner finally arrived at 9:30pm and was gone in 10 mins flat before we went for a foot massage and realised that some of us are super sensitive to pain.

Woke up at 8 to play tennis with the boys before walloping a huge breakfast and floated dugong like in the pool...sat around for awhile more since checkout got extended to 2pm. Drove into town and past Karpal Singh's house, found Ayer Itam Assam Laksa, Mua Chee and amazing sugarcane juice which I promptly spilled all over myself. Also the cleanest public toilets in Malaysia.

Passed out on the way back to KL, before ending up eating dinner in TTDI-yet again, hungry.

Was a good trip! Off to Sg for more project work in the upcoming weeks, ah the travelling life of a consultant, airports need to be closer to home!!!

Strangers

There are these moments in life where you find yourself sitting with an acquaintance, and for some reason or another you end the day knowing just about everything in their life.

For some people I find this process takes a long time and constant contact to occur, but for others, it really is that simple, honest, open conversation that dips into memories past to retrieve events and construct dates and emotions- where stories are weaved through time so you see the tiniest glimpse of the threads of their life tapestry.

It's kind of nice because in this cynical jaded world of ours, you find someone who trusts you with their information, who trusts you to listen and who feels comfortable around you, and in return you sometimes reciprocate with the same degree of openness and honesty. It's rare, but when it happens, it's memorable.

In other news, performed my first Tango Solo and it was a blast. Also conducted my first tango class and boy was it exhausting, but so rewarding. I understand why maestros are so tired after a full day now and barely want to dance at milongas!

Under a starry sky

Sipadan Jan 2014

I am facing a dotted night sky, as clear as only island skies can be. Free from smog and light pollution that blanket a city skyline, the stars come out to play, sparkling lights on a black canvas, irreplaceable by the flashing bulbs of the tallest tower.

Waves lap back and forth, surging, rippling sounds as they crash into the stilts below me and the band plays on with a screech, Coldplay's Yellow suits the mood to a tee. One of their many hodgepodge covers ranging from Richie Ren's "Dui Mian de Nu Hai" to Italian songs such as "La Bamba". Around me the village folks have come to their Saturday night Zouk aka Uncle Chang's, half drunk off cheap alcohol and dancing to Gangnam Style. You know you've made it when a village in the middle of the ocean knows how to dance your dance.

Shoulders acheing from hauling friggin heavy equipment, BCD's and the whole gamut of equipment, oh and my own fats and weightbelt obviously. Putting on flippers with equipment hanging half off the side of the boat and your butt balancing precariously on the edge while wielding your spit filled goggles and shoving your regulator in your mouth before entering the water upsidedown counts as an intense workout in its own right. So does exiting to get onto the boat and trying to put your tank into the right hole.

Other than that, pretty decent dives, but still didn't live up to expectations. I was expecting barracuda's by the thousands and big whales or something, but obviously life doesn't work like that. Got acquainted with tons of turtles and white tip reef sharks though, and a lot of beautiful wall coral. Stunning stuff, like hovering above a garden. 7 dives in, and back into the groove! Also staring into the vast unknown below and around you is totally scary. Utterly out of elements. Human's are so useless in water.

Good company, decent room, toilet and food and this was a fun trip. Relaxing tanning times and no sun burns, woohoo. Deep conversations under night skies and acquaintances become the people who know more about you than some of your lifelong buddies do. Life is often such a mixture of circumstances. Interactions as we trundle along on the tracks that overlap briefly back and forth, forward and back. 

Chase

I. Am. Quite. Exhausted.

Just a little. This year has been a disjoint and draining on a level that I've never quite experienced before. Bipolar too. Next time I'll just count my blessings and be done with it. If there's anything that this year has taught me, is that it has pushed to the forefront the realities that life is never going to be always the same and status quos always change.

So, hold on, because life is and has always been a bumpy ride, but really, make your choices and do your best with whatever you choose.

This weekend came off a high of wrapping up a busy piece at work and started out on a Friday with KFC, two cakes, satay and plenty of booze, finishing off with champagne in the pool, boisterous chicken fights-where I almost drowned- and a rambunctious game of Marco Polo which basically wiped all us 20 something's out. Man, what happened to playing in the pool for hours at a time?

This was followed up with a bridal party on saturday with spa dates and hi-tea at Carcosa, then a 12 hours tango marathon where we smashed the last record of 7am, finishing at 8am with pancakes and bacon (which I did not get any of). Passed out for 6 hours before heading to La Boca and DJ-ing at Radius where by that time I was totally uninspired to dance. It's true! Too much of a good thing isn't really good either...

Anyway, December. Jeezus, this year has just gone and disappeared down some black hole again.

Of Stag nights and Superman

Awesomely drunken night that I haven't reached the levels of, since Cancun 2010. When the world doesn't stop spinning after a couple of retchings, then you know you're truly fucked.

Pub golf 2/3 done, to be fair the bars were shutting already by the time we wanted to attempt #7 and not wearing heels was a good call on my part. Earlier that day did a 3 hour trek on Bukit Apek, 6 km and incredibly hilly slopes to a quiet, decent waterfall where we bumped into more people separated by 2 degrees of separation. Following that a hearty bowl of pork, pork, pork at Kui Lam after travelling through serai, durian, bawang lanes in Cheras. Awesome stuff man, the soup is extremely addictive.

As much as my time with Ethos has ended, it gave me awesome friends, that's for sure. Friends that started off as colleagues but soon became family really, seeing how they are the people I spent the most time with in the past 2 years.

To be alive. This is what it means.

Mentally & Physically Exhausted

Marathon of interviews and so, so, so close to the finish line. But unless I take the next few steps everything that was previously done was for naught so fight on!

Viper challenge today, sunburnt face and arms, bruised knees and thighs, acheing knees and probably sore everything tomorrow. But we persevered. No one will come and get you, so what is your choice but to soldier on? Good teamwork, good effort, climbing 10 feet boards is a bitch and so is climbing hills without water. This is what I live for. Moments like these. 6 hours of chaos.

Now for a well deserved rest tomorrow.

Writers Block

The only outlet that seems to have any words flowing unceasingly nowadays seems to be my Tango blog. Neglecting this recently because, well, I frankly have not been inspired to write much, even though life has been fully activated this month and my sleep quota is ever-shrinking, even without bootcamp this month.

Off to Singapore tonight for a bit of RnR with the Michigan travel crew, but also battling a creeping sore-throat for the past 3 days. Urgh. Hopefully the heat won't fry too badly. In other news, the cruise package just came, I am looking forward to finishing my stash of GoT on a very relaxing cruise poolside. Can't wait! Also must remember to pack Tango shoes for London. Summer, here I come!

Purgatory

I'm fighting a lot of inner demons recently but I'm sure I'll come out the stronger of it eventually.

Just to keep stock of what's going on:

1) Tango weekend next weekend with Wesak day+Tangoblitz starting on Thursday + Chinese Tea Ceremony on Saturday!
2) Skytrex + Wedding
3) Singapore with Lulu!
4) 2 week Europe Vacay
5) Stanchart Marathon
6) Melaka Wedding
7) Shanghai

This will last me the next 2 months. Chaos & Fun, here I come!

Hmmm

Random thought, but it's worrying when someone has to self-promote how happy they are. Seems a bit strained and...scary really, like delusional scary. Know what I mean?

Kind of how I had to convince myself I was happy and didn't care until one day I realize that the way to reach that wasn't by acting it out, but actually letting time make it a reality. Which it kind of has. Hmm.

Anyway, good girly weekend (after a psycho week of matching lands and delayed dinners), Saturday early morning runs around Bukit Tunku, Banana Leaf Rice + HnM shopping-Sephora rained in-makeup trying-perfume spritzing-blusher streaking-coffee n pastries-shisha St Patty's Eve, Sunday Briyani-nutella roti overload-subsequent comotose state-Genting Oldies and back to a Monday Bootcamp sesh. Phew.

WANTS WANTS WANTS. Too many wants huhuhu. =.="