I've just had the most fulfilling weekend attending the City District Vocation Retreat led by Fr. Ignatius Huan. I signed up for the retreat more for Fr. Ignatius, for he is such an excellent teacher/preacher that I knew I would learn something even if he recited the phone book.
The topic was an introduction to Ignatian spirituality and while I have read books and attended previous talks on St. Ignatius and his spiritual exercises, there was more to learn and many new insights (on a very personal level) given to me.
I was also reminded of God's wicked sense of humour and prescient timing for He knows exactly how to get me. I suppose I should be grateful that He still talks to me and I can hear Him.
Oh yeah, the retreat theme was: "Speak Lord, your servant is listening,", doubly ironic for lately I have been more like the feckless Israelites than Samuel.
Anyway it got interesting when we were discussing desolation. St. Ignatius stated that desolation is never from God although He does permit it to happen, using it as a means of purification and drawing the suffering person closer to Him. It can also serve as a reminder to us that genuine consolation is pure gift.
The Ignatian definition of desolation goes beyond the affective state and relates more to "a diminution of faith, of hope, of love"* that draws us towards opting for mediocrity in our lives, giving into distractions where our souls become "wholly slothful".
One of his guiding principles is to never make a change (that is go back on a decision made in a time of consolation) in the midst of desolation but to stay the course, be firm and resolute.
When tragedy strikes and grief take over, a natural reaction is to look for answers or solutions. Not an unreasonable response. But what if there are no easy answers or solutions? What then?
Here is where the Ignatian principle above holds as well. Instead of fixating on unearthing an answer or becoming disillusioned or bitter, Fr. Ignatius proposes that we, as people of faith, endeavour to live the question.
Stay the course of true faith. Pray for the grace and gift of a persevering faith to buoy us over the raging waters of grief and inner chaos.
Ask for the consolation of a grateful heart, to be able to accept, in a conscious manner, what has happened and to actively work on finding one's way through the minefield of desolation without constantly clamouring for answers.
In What is the Point of Being Christian, Timothy Radcliffe notes that waiting is very much a part of being Christian for God is not a "powerful, celestial superman" who comes charging in to rescue us, but "God comes from within, inside our deepest interiority".
This is something that takes time, and much contemplation. So we are called to have courage, a courage that is all about endurance. As Aquinas believed "patience consists in not letting adversity crush one's joy".
It was affirming for me to discover that I have been living the question these last seven years, the question of my vocation that I discerned then, which was marriage and motherhood all along.
I initially kept asking the when, how, why, who and what does He mean by this plan for me?
With no clear, immediate answers, I could only live out my questions by trusting and believing in His will for me, and waiting on Him to unfold His plan; allowing the mystery of His very gradual revelation to bind me closer to Him.
This has not been a passive waiting for the apple to drop from the tree, but cultivating a discipline of patience and perseverance as I grow in faith.
Saying yes to love (giving and receiving) and communion.
Attempting to bear good fruit by living a life that glorifies God and sanctifies the people around me.
After seven years, I have stopped demanding for answers for living my questions have enabled me to mostly arrive at a state of "indifference" which in Ignatian speak means that I have no preference for either outcome: marriage or singlehood. Never thought I'd be this happy to be indifferent.
In the Whiteheads' book Seasons of Strength: New Visions of Adult Christian Maturing, they define a Christian vocation as "a gradual revelation of me to myself by God" and that it is "our own religious identity, it is who we are, trying to happen".
In good times and bad, in desolation or consolation, one thing never changes, I am called to be me, a me who has been called by name.
And in choosing to respond, there is only one way to walk: one step at a time, taking my lead from God.
It is, after all, a question of living out my faith.
* http://www.isecp.org/chapt_10.html
Sunday, August 29, 2010
Sunday, August 22, 2010
Congee love
It's been a busy Sunday. I made Dad's (it was originally my grandmother who created it and passed down to my father) special rice porridge or congee which involves lots of prep work as a minimum of eight ingredients go into it.
I outdid myself by making it 10, and even made the chicken stock from scratch the night before in order to make the congee more flavourful.
The extra effort was worth it and I think my creative twists could be a start to a new, improved version.
Today's lunch brought back memories of Sunday lunches past, when my grandparents were still alive and my aunts, uncles and cousins would converge for lunch at our house. Dad would make bowl after bowl of congee, catering to each person's individual taste.
As I washed, cut, boiled, sliced and sauteed endlessly, I gained a newfound respect for my father's previous efforts and a deep appreciation for his not inconsiderable labours of love.
It's one of those perennial lines that parents throw their children in frustration when the child displays an immature, narcissistic selfishness: "Wait until you become a parent then you will realize how selfish you were!"
I used to wonder when my father said it if indeed I was, as he accused, selfish, for I could not quite see it. As an adult, I can admit that there was truth in what he pronounced many moons ago.
Until we engage in acts of service for our loved ones, we can never fully appreciate the sacrifice that these acts of love involve when we are on the receiving end.
And that is why family traditions (especially those born out of love) should be passed down, generation after generation, so we know where we come from and how we can become active participants in perpetuating the chain of love, honouring the past in small gestures loaded with a wealth of meaning.
As we have received, so we in turn give back. As we have been loved, so we in turn do love.
There is something mystical about family traditions, especially the ones involving food. For cooking is not only the most accessible and visible gift of love but it is an alchemy that can transform humble ingredients into a sumptuous meal that captivates all the senses, nourishes the body and even brings about healing.
A bowl of congee is my way of remembering my father and his loving hospitality, of saying thank you for all his past efforts, and to say I love you to the people I cook for (especially baby bro who is back for a visit).
It is also a fitting way to pay tribute to Dad, who has gone ahead, seven years to the day come this Saturday.
I outdid myself by making it 10, and even made the chicken stock from scratch the night before in order to make the congee more flavourful.
The extra effort was worth it and I think my creative twists could be a start to a new, improved version.
Today's lunch brought back memories of Sunday lunches past, when my grandparents were still alive and my aunts, uncles and cousins would converge for lunch at our house. Dad would make bowl after bowl of congee, catering to each person's individual taste.
As I washed, cut, boiled, sliced and sauteed endlessly, I gained a newfound respect for my father's previous efforts and a deep appreciation for his not inconsiderable labours of love.
It's one of those perennial lines that parents throw their children in frustration when the child displays an immature, narcissistic selfishness: "Wait until you become a parent then you will realize how selfish you were!"
I used to wonder when my father said it if indeed I was, as he accused, selfish, for I could not quite see it. As an adult, I can admit that there was truth in what he pronounced many moons ago.
Until we engage in acts of service for our loved ones, we can never fully appreciate the sacrifice that these acts of love involve when we are on the receiving end.
And that is why family traditions (especially those born out of love) should be passed down, generation after generation, so we know where we come from and how we can become active participants in perpetuating the chain of love, honouring the past in small gestures loaded with a wealth of meaning.
As we have received, so we in turn give back. As we have been loved, so we in turn do love.
There is something mystical about family traditions, especially the ones involving food. For cooking is not only the most accessible and visible gift of love but it is an alchemy that can transform humble ingredients into a sumptuous meal that captivates all the senses, nourishes the body and even brings about healing.
A bowl of congee is my way of remembering my father and his loving hospitality, of saying thank you for all his past efforts, and to say I love you to the people I cook for (especially baby bro who is back for a visit).
It is also a fitting way to pay tribute to Dad, who has gone ahead, seven years to the day come this Saturday.
Sunday, August 15, 2010
Brotherly perspective
My baby bro is back for a visit and it's been good hanging out with him to see how his choice of vocation and location have shaped his belief system and personality.
C. lives in Taichung, a Taiwanese city with a very laid back vibe. He loves it there and it looks as if he will stay a while yet.
Singapore holds no attraction for him for he is not enamoured of its sophisticated city living and widespread material-driven superficiality.
During this trip, he has encountered kiasu kiasi* Singaporeans who would not lift a finger to help him as it did not benefit them financially and an almost belligerent "everyone's out to get me" attitude towards strangers.
Used to hardworking, friendly Taiwanese with no other agenda that a native curiosity to get better acquainted, he was put off by their rude and ungracious behaviour.
I have to admit I have been brought up to treat all strangers with caution. And growing up in a rather sheltered and insular environment did not help at all.
Hence I have been accused of being unfriendly and dao** when what I really was was reserved and socially inept.
What has changed for me in recent years is due in part to my W2W community. It is truly here that I have had the opportunity to rub shoulders, on a regular basis, and consequently bond with a group of women who come from diverse walks and stages of life.
Within this serendipitous sorority, I have learnt to communicate my thoughts and feelings, my strengths and weaknesses; to share my faith walk with its ups and downs - something that does not come naturally to me, the uber introvert that I am.
Combined with a sustained effort to "love my neighbour", I find myself nurturing an increased respect for the dignity of every person I meet.
More and more I can look at another person and see God's image in him or her, regardless of race, age, religion, beliefs, culture and (the state of) my relationship with that person, withholding judgement when differences or divisions are uncovered.
It isn't easy to overcome my prejudices and innate reserve, but having role models like C. help.
I admire his natural friendliness and openness, his genuine love of humanity.
I like how he challenges me to look at things, at people, from new perspectives.
I will miss him when he leaves next Monday.
* Hokkien for afraid of losing (out), afraid of death (or getting involved)
** Arrogant or standoffish
C. lives in Taichung, a Taiwanese city with a very laid back vibe. He loves it there and it looks as if he will stay a while yet.
Singapore holds no attraction for him for he is not enamoured of its sophisticated city living and widespread material-driven superficiality.
During this trip, he has encountered kiasu kiasi* Singaporeans who would not lift a finger to help him as it did not benefit them financially and an almost belligerent "everyone's out to get me" attitude towards strangers.
Used to hardworking, friendly Taiwanese with no other agenda that a native curiosity to get better acquainted, he was put off by their rude and ungracious behaviour.
I have to admit I have been brought up to treat all strangers with caution. And growing up in a rather sheltered and insular environment did not help at all.
Hence I have been accused of being unfriendly and dao** when what I really was was reserved and socially inept.
What has changed for me in recent years is due in part to my W2W community. It is truly here that I have had the opportunity to rub shoulders, on a regular basis, and consequently bond with a group of women who come from diverse walks and stages of life.
Within this serendipitous sorority, I have learnt to communicate my thoughts and feelings, my strengths and weaknesses; to share my faith walk with its ups and downs - something that does not come naturally to me, the uber introvert that I am.
Combined with a sustained effort to "love my neighbour", I find myself nurturing an increased respect for the dignity of every person I meet.
More and more I can look at another person and see God's image in him or her, regardless of race, age, religion, beliefs, culture and (the state of) my relationship with that person, withholding judgement when differences or divisions are uncovered.
It isn't easy to overcome my prejudices and innate reserve, but having role models like C. help.
I admire his natural friendliness and openness, his genuine love of humanity.
I like how he challenges me to look at things, at people, from new perspectives.
I will miss him when he leaves next Monday.
* Hokkien for afraid of losing (out), afraid of death (or getting involved)
** Arrogant or standoffish
Sunday, August 08, 2010
Faith and wisdom
Thanks to S. I got to watch December Rains, a Mandarin musical staged by Toy Factory this afternoon and thoroughly enjoyed myself, especially since there were supertitles (else I'd be lost).
It is a love story set in the fifties, a time in Singapore's history where there were anti-colonial riots by the bus workers' union and Chinese middle school students; a tale of youthful idealism, first loves, life choices and the sacrifices that ensue.
My afternoon somehow rounded up this morning's homily in a lyrical way in that the theme of love and sacrifice is something that each of us is familiar with, being human.
We love. We choose. All the time.
In choosing one love, we invariably sacrifice another. Therefore it's crucial to make wise choices.
In accepting God's love and call in my life, do I in turn love Him and thereby subscribe to a way of life that demonstrates my love for Him?
If I call myself Christian, do I live a life of faith and faithfulness by being a good steward, one who is faithful and wise?
Fr.Vaz reminded me that wisdom is not a string of degrees or well-grounded literacy, but rather wisdom is to know God intimately and to let him reign and rule in my life.
In the Book of Wisdom, wisdom is personified as a woman, someone I can be good girlfriends with, or not. The choice is mine.
Wisdom is indeed a gift of the Spirit that I have always asked for, having made colossal mistakes in the past.
When it comes to love, the heart has a way of making decisions that may not be so politic or salubrious, especially if one hasn't had the benefit of time and experience to temper a youthful idealism or a still maturing value system as evinced by Li Qing's willingness to leave her beloved parents for the love of one man and Ying Xiong's going back on his word to Li Qing for the love of his ideals.
Although wisdom is also the uncertain child of suffering, as believers of Christ, the simplest way to acquire wisdom is to live out the will of God as espoused by Fr. Vaz.
Just take the example of the slip of a girl Mary, who said yes to being a mother although she was as yet unwed, braving the very likely prospect of death and future heartbreak.
She displayed a wisdom beyond her years for she was living in close relationship with God, and thus was given a grace-filled faith to say yes to seemingly crazy, impossible and scary situations.
While there will always be rainy seasons in our lives, periods of great loss and sacrifice, wisdom will always guide us through the heaviest storms.
All it takes is a little faith.
It is a love story set in the fifties, a time in Singapore's history where there were anti-colonial riots by the bus workers' union and Chinese middle school students; a tale of youthful idealism, first loves, life choices and the sacrifices that ensue.
My afternoon somehow rounded up this morning's homily in a lyrical way in that the theme of love and sacrifice is something that each of us is familiar with, being human.
We love. We choose. All the time.
In choosing one love, we invariably sacrifice another. Therefore it's crucial to make wise choices.
In accepting God's love and call in my life, do I in turn love Him and thereby subscribe to a way of life that demonstrates my love for Him?
If I call myself Christian, do I live a life of faith and faithfulness by being a good steward, one who is faithful and wise?
Fr.Vaz reminded me that wisdom is not a string of degrees or well-grounded literacy, but rather wisdom is to know God intimately and to let him reign and rule in my life.
In the Book of Wisdom, wisdom is personified as a woman, someone I can be good girlfriends with, or not. The choice is mine.
Wisdom is indeed a gift of the Spirit that I have always asked for, having made colossal mistakes in the past.
When it comes to love, the heart has a way of making decisions that may not be so politic or salubrious, especially if one hasn't had the benefit of time and experience to temper a youthful idealism or a still maturing value system as evinced by Li Qing's willingness to leave her beloved parents for the love of one man and Ying Xiong's going back on his word to Li Qing for the love of his ideals.
Although wisdom is also the uncertain child of suffering, as believers of Christ, the simplest way to acquire wisdom is to live out the will of God as espoused by Fr. Vaz.
Just take the example of the slip of a girl Mary, who said yes to being a mother although she was as yet unwed, braving the very likely prospect of death and future heartbreak.
She displayed a wisdom beyond her years for she was living in close relationship with God, and thus was given a grace-filled faith to say yes to seemingly crazy, impossible and scary situations.
While there will always be rainy seasons in our lives, periods of great loss and sacrifice, wisdom will always guide us through the heaviest storms.
All it takes is a little faith.
Friday, August 06, 2010
True to type
I have been coasting. Partly due to the incredible busyness of the first five months of the year, followed by a quarter of quiescence recuperating from surgery and trying to get back to work to make up for my loss of income for the seven weeks of inactivity.
As I regain some equilibrium in my life, it is time to get back into the spiritual saddle.
I have let slide all my disciplines of prayer and have consequently hit a few roadblocks in doing what I know I am to do.
Okay, it may not be as bad as I make it out to be but I am certainly deviating from the trajectory I am supposed to be on and it comes from a combination of laziness and fear.
The perfectionist in me refuses to embark on a project that involves a lot of effort and could spell failure.
D. went for MBTI training a couple of weeks ago and it piqued my interest again. I know what I am, having completed the psychometric questionnaire years before, but reading more about my psychological type recently just blew me away.
It was pretty spot on and I felt less crazy as I realized what my "negative" tendencies were. I also think that all parents should MBTI themselves and their children in order to have them understand their children a little better and to therefore improve the dynamics of their relationship, as well as assist their children in realizing their potential fully.
M., my client who does MBTI training told me this, that we cannot change our type, especially if we answered the questionnaire honestly and not given aspirational answers.
I believe that is true. We are, each of us, like a figure encased in a marble block, that the Creator gazes upon and see a form that in Michelangelo's words is "shaped and perfect in attitude and action".
And all that is needed is our co-operation with Him so that He can chisel away all the extraneous, unwanted bits to reveal to the world the beauty He sees within.
Despite my unchangeable psychological type, I am uniquely gifted and shaped by my experiences. If I allow the Creator to fashion me as He would, in a spirit of receptivity and accountability, then I would come to life fully, in all my being.
E. gave me a rather pointed postcard that says Only You Can Choose the Right Direction.
As one of the few people who has known me and loved me (for who I am) my entire life, I know she knows I am coasting and it's time to change.
Despite the various milestones and accomplishments through these last seven years, I could be more and do more for I could answer more convincingly my fiat, instead of a tepid "Wait a while".
I love her for pushing me and encouraging me to go further for it's so easy to rest on my laurels having attained a certain level of emotional/spiritual maturity and the head knowledge to give the right answers and maybe even choose the "better portion", but not quite yet the "best".
It's easy to not focus my limited and finite energy and resources on the right things (things that I have discerned are part of my vocation) by doing a million "good deeds" that are the low-hanging fruit and so within my reach
As it says in Matthew 7:21, only the one who does the will of the Father will enter the kingdom of heaven. Forget mighty works.
So I have my work cut out for the remainder of this year: to go beyond my "type" and develop both my greater and my lesser traits to the extent I can say I did my utmost to be true to the best of myself.
I pray today for my Mount Tabor experience - to be transfigured so that I will be given new heart and a fresh, glowing demeanour to be more like Him.
As I regain some equilibrium in my life, it is time to get back into the spiritual saddle.
I have let slide all my disciplines of prayer and have consequently hit a few roadblocks in doing what I know I am to do.
Okay, it may not be as bad as I make it out to be but I am certainly deviating from the trajectory I am supposed to be on and it comes from a combination of laziness and fear.
The perfectionist in me refuses to embark on a project that involves a lot of effort and could spell failure.
D. went for MBTI training a couple of weeks ago and it piqued my interest again. I know what I am, having completed the psychometric questionnaire years before, but reading more about my psychological type recently just blew me away.
It was pretty spot on and I felt less crazy as I realized what my "negative" tendencies were. I also think that all parents should MBTI themselves and their children in order to have them understand their children a little better and to therefore improve the dynamics of their relationship, as well as assist their children in realizing their potential fully.
M., my client who does MBTI training told me this, that we cannot change our type, especially if we answered the questionnaire honestly and not given aspirational answers.
I believe that is true. We are, each of us, like a figure encased in a marble block, that the Creator gazes upon and see a form that in Michelangelo's words is "shaped and perfect in attitude and action".
And all that is needed is our co-operation with Him so that He can chisel away all the extraneous, unwanted bits to reveal to the world the beauty He sees within.
Despite my unchangeable psychological type, I am uniquely gifted and shaped by my experiences. If I allow the Creator to fashion me as He would, in a spirit of receptivity and accountability, then I would come to life fully, in all my being.
E. gave me a rather pointed postcard that says Only You Can Choose the Right Direction.
As one of the few people who has known me and loved me (for who I am) my entire life, I know she knows I am coasting and it's time to change.
Despite the various milestones and accomplishments through these last seven years, I could be more and do more for I could answer more convincingly my fiat, instead of a tepid "Wait a while".
I love her for pushing me and encouraging me to go further for it's so easy to rest on my laurels having attained a certain level of emotional/spiritual maturity and the head knowledge to give the right answers and maybe even choose the "better portion", but not quite yet the "best".
It's easy to not focus my limited and finite energy and resources on the right things (things that I have discerned are part of my vocation) by doing a million "good deeds" that are the low-hanging fruit and so within my reach
As it says in Matthew 7:21, only the one who does the will of the Father will enter the kingdom of heaven. Forget mighty works.
So I have my work cut out for the remainder of this year: to go beyond my "type" and develop both my greater and my lesser traits to the extent I can say I did my utmost to be true to the best of myself.
I pray today for my Mount Tabor experience - to be transfigured so that I will be given new heart and a fresh, glowing demeanour to be more like Him.
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