Finding myself.

So... I spent most of the layover sleeping because I could barely get any with all the sounds of snoring, toilet flushing and knocking me (that is the last time I ever take that aisle seat at the back EVER again. EVER EVER NEVER again. I am totally a window seat leave-me-alone person).

Aaand, other than about an hour of Big Bang Theory, I spent most of my first day back in Singapore sleeping too. I'm not sure if it's jet lag or my new inefficient, unproductive, escapism strategy that's not going to help anyone or make a difference to the world in anyway. Aren't I the most positive person? :) And now at 12:30am Monday morning, I'm struggling to not sleep, because I don't want to wake up in the morning. Part of me is having some sort of anxiety attack of getting back to work and "real-life" I REALLY don't want to have to drive to the office. I don't want to have to meet my father for a management meeting in the morning. And I don't want to meet with the department heads for an update on what has happened these past two weeks and to make these big decisions on "Strategy 2016" and approve budgets and stuff like that.

I just don't want to.
And I don't understand it.

Thus the reason for my random writing at the wee hours in the morning... trying to figure out what in the world is going on with me.

I don't know what's wrong with me. I honestly don't know what's tripping me up. The first book I picked up this morning when I awoke was Strengthsfinder....and with what apparently are my top five strengths (1. Ideation, 2. Strategic, 3. Futuristic, 4. Competition, 5. Activator) it seems like I should be perfectly suited to do what I do. And yet I'm stuck... and I don't believe I can do it.

During my stay in London, I reread "Tuesdays with Morrie", one of my favourite books of all time..and many of his questions challenged me, as they always do when I take a peek in. This probably set the tone for a lot of introspection on the trip... during meals I would ask others questions like "What choice of basking would you do if you were a basker?" and "If you had no limits to time, money, or risk of any form, what would you do with your life? What would your dream career be?" It was always interesting to hear what others had to say... but I found it even more so that I often didn't have an answer of my own. I often spend more time listening and trying to guess what the answers of others would be, whilst having much less self-awareness or vision as I encourage others to have.

I suppose it may help going back to basics.

I remember a time when I was studying Early Childhood Education (yes, believe or not, I actually have a diploma in that with a Certificate of Merit), the basic developmental needs of a child was broken up into 5 main categories with the acronym SPICES - Social, Physical, Intellectual, Cognitive, Emotional, and Spiritual. I wonder how I fare on each of those categories... but a quick self-assessment feels like I'm not doing too well all round. Maybe that's probably why.

As I asked myself the hard questions... part of me felt like I needed to retrace my steps of human existence. I feel like I need to do some sort of archive of my life - year by year, photographs, notes, pictures...any type of historical artefact of my existence  - starting from the day I was born, to really understand why I'm having this sudden existential crisis at this point.

Okay, it's 2am. I really have to continue this conversation with myself a little later this week.

Where am I going?

Here I am on a plane headed back to Singapore and all I can think of is "Where am I going?" 

And the answer I'm looking for isn't "Singapore".

Two weeks ago, just two days before Christmas, I got up and left Singapore to come to this side of the world to spend time with my cousins and to see Finland whilst helping set up a proposal... But the overarching reason of my leaving was really because I felt like I had lost myself somewhere and I felt like I was on the brink of a totally epic emotional collapse. Thing is, I don't know if these two weeks helped any.

Don't get me wrong. I've had amazing experiences in a short two weeks. Coming back to London itself was momentous for me. It had been 8 years since I last saw some of my English friends and it was such a pleasure to see them again. And Finland - with learning to ski, hot saunas and ice-hole swimming in minus 17 degree weather - are memories that I will save for a long time to come.

So I went through the check list of goals I had for this trip. Getaway, check. Visit Finland, check. Help with cousin's proposal, check. Meet up with friends from a long time ago and catch up, check. Visit markets, check. But that one big thing on the list - on finding out what I want to do - remains a box still tugging at both my heart and mind.

In hopes of finding an answer, I brought up the quest and question with almost every single friend on this trip. The quest being that I had flown thousands of miles away from home to find some peace and direction in life, and the question being what peace would look like to me in my life and where I would be able to find it.

Interestingly, these past two weeks have been ironic as I struggled with these existential questions whilst trying to put out fires back in Singapore at work over hundreds of text messages... As well as worrying the hell out about my seemingly suicidal ex-boyfriend (whom is suicidal not from my doing, but from circumstantial pressures and a generally bleak and melancholic perspective on life.... And his choice of a bi-polar ex-girlfriend after me. Just putting it out there that his depression is not my doing... Just in case you were wondering. I have my views on  depression in general, and I would digress on how not knowing God really makes those life experiences far worse than they need to be... But this post isn't about that, or about him.).

But yes, isn't it ironic that the helpless is trying to help others? Haven't I listened to enough safety briefs to understand the concept of helping oneself first before attempting to help another? Apparently not.

So here I am, threatening the ruin of my 20/20 (or is it 6/6) perfect vision as I type in the dark on a plane en route to my stopover in Hong Kong. All this whilst hugging my down winter jacket for some comfort. Yes, humans sometimes subconsciously try to find empathy in inanimate objects. And honestly, whoever invented down-jackets - like deliciously wearable duvets - is definitely one of my favourite people.

I spend a lot of time trying to be a lot of things for others. Happy, joyful, courageous, strong, wise, decisive... But the truth is, that when I'm alone, I'm often not what I strive so hard to be. The truth is, I'm sad. I'm sad because I don't know where I'm at and what I'm doing with my life and whether it's going anywhere. I'm sad because I'm still hurting from my stupid breakup 3 years ago because my silly heart still chooses to love this man who hurt me so deeply. I'm sad because I feel so far away from the person that I want to be physically, emotionally, intellectually, and spiritually. The truth is I'm not strong nor courageous at all. In fact, if anything, I'd think I'm a bigger coward than people know. I often run from problems and when I don't know what to do, and perhaps - if I were to be so honest - somewhere in my mind I sometimes blame others for the person I am now. (Lame, isn't it? I really dislike it when I find myself responding to life with such irresponsibility.) The truth is, I'm afraid. Afraid of failure, afraid of rejection.  The truth is I'm far from qualified to possess true wisdom... There are simple social protocols that I have yet to understand... And so much that I really don't. 

Call it "imposter syndrome" if you will, but honestly, I am not who you or others think I am. If anything, I'm this sad, lost girl wearily trying to figure out her way in life.

Have you ever had a feeling like part of you inside wished that you could just scream out loud at the top of your lungs and bawl your eyes out at the world for a very long time? I often do.

But I don't.

I don't because I don't know what use that would be. Nor do I know what I would do after that.

I suppose reflecting on these two weeks, I was most thankful for the questions I encountered during my random introspective moments with myself.... Questions like:

Would I want to live in a house like that?

Do I even have a dream house?

How in the world do certain types of girls find life partners so easily?

How are these entrepreneurs so passionate?

How can I emulate such discipline and passion?

What am I going to go with my personal life that seems to be going no where?

What would I be happy with?

What are the things that are truly important to me as well as to the world?

And at this moment, as I struggle to type in the dark, currently more about... 

Why is it bothering me so much that these people next to me are coughing without covering their mouths... And that they look so unkempt?

Why do I feel like punching this guy who's bothering me so much? I have rarely considered punching anyone, or anything, in my life...ever.

Stuff like that.

It feels really unkind, but I guess questions that randomly present themselves to a person don't necessarily go through a "kindness filter". I suppose questions that come to us come from a feeling of imbalance when the world presents itself differently to ones ideals - including that of morals and values. And for that, they are very telling. For one, this current struggle with myself not to punch the person snoring away next to me as he's sleeping - I was upset because I value harmony and being considerate to others, and him keeping me awake throughout the night wasn't any of that. But the punching would have undone my own values.

As I spend a good 6 hour layover in Hong Kong, hopefully I'll find some answers before I get to Singapore. Otherwise I'll have to make a point to get out again without any tech on me sometime in the next few weeks to figure this all out.

No punching in the meantime. I promise.

Remembering to be grateful

So after 8 years, here I am back in London, England, pondering about what to do with my life. It's a little strange to think about it - after all, I am supposed to be at an age where I should be pretty much settled into life and building on it.

At a nice old-ish age of 32, I suppose part of me feels a little...under-accomplished. After all, I have peers who are pretty much popping their second or third child and are in a totally different phase from where I'm at (I mean, not that I'm too enthralled by the tremendous amount of time and thought they spend into talk about things like breast pumps). On the other hand though, their transition into this phase of motherhood and wifeivities (if that's a word) is also quite captivating in how selfless their new roles can be... and thinking about it makes me feel a little juvenile, or even selfish, about where I'm at. But I suppose all humans have their stories to tell and rates of "growth" perhaps? I wonder how God chooses for some 32 year olds to be married, some to have children, some to be divorced, some to have crazy adventures in life, some to have boring day jobs (and happily contented with them), and some to be sitting in an apartment in the middle of the night in Central London thinking about what the hell to do with their lives by writing on their blogs.

Interesting fact of the day: There actually is a website devoted to people in such situations which is hilariously at www.wtfshouldidowithmylife.com. Yes, I stumbled upon it as a tried to summon the powers of the internet to tell me what to do with my life. Yes, it's pathetic. No, you don't have to chide me about it - I've already done that in depth to myself in the past few hours. I am quite self-managing like that.

But yes, back to feeling under-accomplished.
Aaaand...now we're stress eating clementines and salted popcorn from Tesco's.
Oh life, why are you so hard to deal with?
*cue sad depressing music which is irritating me just thinking about it*

I think part of the problem with me is possibly my bouts of forgetting to be grateful.
Looking back at just the past two weeks, I actually have SO much to be grateful for.

For one, I just got back from a week-long trip to Finland yesterday. It was pretty much a "mission" holiday as I was helping with my cousin's surprise proposal to his now-fiancee (success!). Still, beyond the mission, it was a pretty amazing time. I skiied for the first time (crashed so many times, but still loved it). I drove a Husky sled on a 3km route in the snow (and I now have a cute Husky mushing license to prove it). I went polar bear diving (is that what it's called?) in an ice hole in sub-zero temps. Bonus that I am still alive after all that crazy stuff I did. Who knew that I'd get to spend both Christmas and the New Years of 2015 in Finland? And now, I'm back in London for a week.

I should be grateful.

I should be grateful that I still have my dad. I think I would have died if I lost him to the heart attack. My father is very precious to me.
I should be grateful for my family. There are so many people without, or with troubled ones... and it really puts a strain on managing life.
I should be grateful that I even can be in this position where I am stressed over not knowing what I want to do with my life - as it comes with the luxury of having choices.

Looking back over Facebook and Instagram in the past year surprised me quite a bit. For one, all the travelling that happened - including Malaysia, Hawaii, Chicago, New York, China, and now Finland and England. How did all that happen in 2015? And with all that travelling came with it reunions, conversations, experiences, and memories.

I should be grateful.

It doesn't belittle the question of what I should do with my life. But, if anything, I suppose it helps me have some perspective into being a little more patient as I tackle the question. Hopefully, by the end of my stay here, I'd have some perspective in what I should do... and how I should get there.

In the meantime, I shall strive to enjoy the English tea and cookies in what little time I have left here.