Businessman 'killed family'
I was, and still is, shocked about the latest news I have been following for days now. I guess truth is so much stranger than fiction.
The last several days, I have been following the story of a British millionaire, Chris Foster and how his estate in Shropshire was deliberately set on fire a week ago. By whom? Nobody knew until yesterday evening. It turned out that this guy, due to huge financial losses involving his business, snapped under the weight of his problems. He killed his wife and daughter, set his house on fire, before finally killing himself. Unbelievable.
I used to think that money was evil. That it's the source of all problems in the
world. But then of course that's naivette. It's when people let money rule their lives that things fall apart: from friendships to marriage, businesses to family life.
I would still want to earn a lot of money and live a comfortable life but I don't think it would be worth doing that if I end up ruining the lives of the very people who inspired me to achieve so much in life.
Read more about the story here and here.
Wednesday 3 September 2008
Thursday 31 July 2008
I Hope You Dance
I love songs which use the word 'dance' in their lyrics, associating it with exuberance and passion for life.
But this song by Lee Ann Womack seems to be my all-time figurative 'dance' song.
I hope you never lose your sense of wonder
You get your fill to eat
But always keep that hunger
May you never take one single breath for granted
God forbid love ever leave you empty handed
I hope you still feel small
When you stand by the ocean
Whenever one door closes, I hope one more opens
Promise me you'll give faith a fighting chance
And when you get the choice to sit it out or dance
I hope you dance
I hope you dance
I hope you never fear those mountains in the distance
Never settle for the path of least resistance
Leaving might mean taking chances
But they're worth taking
Lovin' might be a mistake
But it's worth making
Don't let some hell bent heart
Leave you bitter
When you come close to selling out
Reconsider
Give the heavens above
More than just a passing glance
And when you get the choice to sit it out or dance
I hope you dance
(Time is a real and constant motion always)
I hope you dance
(Rolling us along)
I hope you dance
(Tell me who)
I hope you dance
(Wants to look back on their youth and wonder)
(Where those years have gone)
I hope you still feel small
When you stand by the ocean
Whenever one door closes, I hope one more opens
Promise me you'll give faith a fighting chance
And when you get the choice to sit it out or dance
Dance
I hope you dance
I hope you dance
(Time is a real and constant motion always)
I hope you dance
(Rolling us along)
I hope you dance
(Tell me who)
(Wants to look back on their youth and wonder)
I hope you dance
(Where those years have gone)
(Tell me who)
I hope you dance
(Wants to look back on their youth and wonder)
(Where those years have gone)
But this song by Lee Ann Womack seems to be my all-time figurative 'dance' song.
I hope you never lose your sense of wonder
You get your fill to eat
But always keep that hunger
May you never take one single breath for granted
God forbid love ever leave you empty handed
I hope you still feel small
When you stand by the ocean
Whenever one door closes, I hope one more opens
Promise me you'll give faith a fighting chance
And when you get the choice to sit it out or dance
I hope you dance
I hope you dance
I hope you never fear those mountains in the distance
Never settle for the path of least resistance
Leaving might mean taking chances
But they're worth taking
Lovin' might be a mistake
But it's worth making
Don't let some hell bent heart
Leave you bitter
When you come close to selling out
Reconsider
Give the heavens above
More than just a passing glance
And when you get the choice to sit it out or dance
I hope you dance
(Time is a real and constant motion always)
I hope you dance
(Rolling us along)
I hope you dance
(Tell me who)
I hope you dance
(Wants to look back on their youth and wonder)
(Where those years have gone)
I hope you still feel small
When you stand by the ocean
Whenever one door closes, I hope one more opens
Promise me you'll give faith a fighting chance
And when you get the choice to sit it out or dance
Dance
I hope you dance
I hope you dance
(Time is a real and constant motion always)
I hope you dance
(Rolling us along)
I hope you dance
(Tell me who)
(Wants to look back on their youth and wonder)
I hope you dance
(Where those years have gone)
(Tell me who)
I hope you dance
(Wants to look back on their youth and wonder)
(Where those years have gone)
Friday 13 June 2008
Not -So-Flat Life
This is my last night here at Senghennydd Court. It doesn't really sadden me, except that I'm the only one left here. My four flatmates have either gone home or moved to their new rented houses. Early this evening, I helped Y, my Chinese flatmate, move her stuff to her new place at Minister Street, just two blocks away from Lidl.
Y kept telling me this evening as we walked to her new house that she feels really sad to leave the flat. The rest of us feel the same way. We were at the kitchen last week and all of us kept saying we will miss the kitchen, we will miss the flat. It has been nine fun months with four other people who come from different backgrounds, with their own particular quirks, and their own unique personalities. I'm impressed that we've bonded quite well despite the many barriers that we have had to hurdle, cultural, being the most important one. And so we had three separate Christmas dinners of British, Chinese and Filipino cuisine, and not to mention an Indian night just after the start of the semester. It had been truly a wonderful experience living with these women and men who have become good friends.
We've spent so much time together in the kitchen: cooking, eating, watching the telly, chatting, arguing. It was where we revealed who we are and where we come from. One evening many months ago, we were watching an animal program that featured a squirrel-like animal now considered an endangered species. P, my Chinese flatmate came in and asked what the show was about. H, my Welsh flatmate, explained that it's about this endangered species that can be found in Wales (I think). P suddenly said, 'Oh, I'm thinking of how to cook that animal just as I'm watching it now'. I nearly fell from my seat and laughed out loud. H then said that the Brits are rather fond of animals, especially those furry and cuddly ones. Talk about cultural differences!
While packing my stuff in the kitchen this evening, I noticed that the only surviving African Violet leaf that I got from Bute library has grown three new small leaves! I called Y and showed it to her and she got excited as well. I had been terribly busy the last few days I never noticed the new shoot of leaves. I never really thought I'd be able to nurture Vicky successfully because it is my first time to grow African violets, which are known to be a delicate species. Right, call me weird but I've decided to name my plants to amuse myself and just to have someone - something - to talk to in times of frustration or extreme joy. I have Pinky, my dark pink crab cactus, and Chicky, my yellow geranium (I'm not really sure if it's a geranium). They have brightened up our kitchen the last few months, cheerful listeners of our amusing conversations. Being delicate as she is, I have put Vicky in my room, making sure she was warm and dry enough to live long enough to bloom.
At 10:30 this evening, I saw off Y at the main door of our flat. We hugged each other and I saw she was fighting back tears. Away from home at 25, I knew how she felt at that moment. I promised to visit her tomorrow after I'm done moving my things to my new house.
Back in the kitchen, I packed Vicky, Pinky and Chicky in a wide carrier bag ready for tomorrow's move. I suddenly became keenly aware that I'm the only one in the flat: no sound of banging doors from P, no sound of Radio 4 from H, no sound of loud online chats from Y. But then I looked once more at Vicky's new leaves and I felt I had some company, albeit a silent one. Life is always about moving on: to a new place, to a new job, to a new relationship. It is certainly unsettling. But what gives me hope is the thought that in the end, the experience has enriched me. I can only choose to be grateful despite the pain of leaving, despite the fear of starting all over again.
Y kept telling me this evening as we walked to her new house that she feels really sad to leave the flat. The rest of us feel the same way. We were at the kitchen last week and all of us kept saying we will miss the kitchen, we will miss the flat. It has been nine fun months with four other people who come from different backgrounds, with their own particular quirks, and their own unique personalities. I'm impressed that we've bonded quite well despite the many barriers that we have had to hurdle, cultural, being the most important one. And so we had three separate Christmas dinners of British, Chinese and Filipino cuisine, and not to mention an Indian night just after the start of the semester. It had been truly a wonderful experience living with these women and men who have become good friends.
We've spent so much time together in the kitchen: cooking, eating, watching the telly, chatting, arguing. It was where we revealed who we are and where we come from. One evening many months ago, we were watching an animal program that featured a squirrel-like animal now considered an endangered species. P, my Chinese flatmate came in and asked what the show was about. H, my Welsh flatmate, explained that it's about this endangered species that can be found in Wales (I think). P suddenly said, 'Oh, I'm thinking of how to cook that animal just as I'm watching it now'. I nearly fell from my seat and laughed out loud. H then said that the Brits are rather fond of animals, especially those furry and cuddly ones. Talk about cultural differences!
While packing my stuff in the kitchen this evening, I noticed that the only surviving African Violet leaf that I got from Bute library has grown three new small leaves! I called Y and showed it to her and she got excited as well. I had been terribly busy the last few days I never noticed the new shoot of leaves. I never really thought I'd be able to nurture Vicky successfully because it is my first time to grow African violets, which are known to be a delicate species. Right, call me weird but I've decided to name my plants to amuse myself and just to have someone - something - to talk to in times of frustration or extreme joy. I have Pinky, my dark pink crab cactus, and Chicky, my yellow geranium (I'm not really sure if it's a geranium). They have brightened up our kitchen the last few months, cheerful listeners of our amusing conversations. Being delicate as she is, I have put Vicky in my room, making sure she was warm and dry enough to live long enough to bloom.
At 10:30 this evening, I saw off Y at the main door of our flat. We hugged each other and I saw she was fighting back tears. Away from home at 25, I knew how she felt at that moment. I promised to visit her tomorrow after I'm done moving my things to my new house.
Back in the kitchen, I packed Vicky, Pinky and Chicky in a wide carrier bag ready for tomorrow's move. I suddenly became keenly aware that I'm the only one in the flat: no sound of banging doors from P, no sound of Radio 4 from H, no sound of loud online chats from Y. But then I looked once more at Vicky's new leaves and I felt I had some company, albeit a silent one. Life is always about moving on: to a new place, to a new job, to a new relationship. It is certainly unsettling. But what gives me hope is the thought that in the end, the experience has enriched me. I can only choose to be grateful despite the pain of leaving, despite the fear of starting all over again.
A Sense of Wonder
This is my first summer here in the UK and although I miss family and friends back home, I must say this is one of most unforgettable summers of my life.
I have just learned how to ride the bike!
Yeah, it's a bit embarrassing to blog about it but I'm just ecstatic that at my age, I was still able to learn a new skill as basic as biking. I've made many attempts in the past to learn it but I guess I never followed it up. Or maybe I wasn't determined enough to want to do it. But just before I left for Cardiff, I made a resolution that yes, this time, no matter what it takes, I'm going to learn to ride the bike.
Perhaps it also helped that I shared this resolution with others. I attended a workshop at the Graduate Centre called 'Steps to Success', which was about being positive about yourself and moving towards your goals. There were only seven of us, all postgraduate students, in that workshop and despite our ages (ranging from 25 to 50) and interesting-sounding courses, I found out that all of us have many insecurities, fears, worries. There's Christine, a beautiful, accomplished architect from the Middle East on her third year of PhD talking about being afraid of failing. Except for one local, all of us were foreign students, all on our own, which probably explains why we're more vulnerable to negative thoughts.
Near the end of the two full-day workshop, we had to share personal goals that entailed moving out of our comfort zones or negative habits. One said 'I would learn to accept compliments more graciously' while, on my part - learn how to ride the bike! While my new friends were somewhat surprised that I didn't know this basic skill, they were all very encouraging and we promised to regularly meet and update each other on our progress.
With my secret out in the world, I knew I just had to do it. Last April, I bought a used bike with the help of my Welsh flatmate. And about two weeks after that, I got biking lessons from Y and H, two of my flatmates. 'Don't mind them' they kept telling me as they held the seat of the bike as I carefully balanced myself. 'I think it's amazing that you're doing this', H told me during one of our practices at Bute Park. The good thing about learning it here was that, people gave you space to do your thing. The Brits at the park would just look at us practising and they would just smile or walk past us. I'm thankful I had everything I needed for my 'project': I had time, friends who were willing to teach me, and an environment that gave me emotional space to learn.
Last Sunday, exactly one month from my last biking lesson, I learned to go off by myself, without no one pushing or holding the seat of my bike. I felt like I was flying! For the first two minutes after I took off, I was so overwhelmed I called out to J, another Pinay student who joined me that afternoon at the park. So this was how it feels like to finally learn what I've always wanted to do. I felt so alive - with all the colours and scents around me so vivid and strong.
I guess learning new skills, and learning new things in general, give you a sense of wonder that can't be captured by words. And so I've decided to create a new blog to mark a new sense of awakening in me. I can only be fully alive to the extent that I allow myself to embrace life. I know I will continue to have fears, but I will not be held prisoner by it. Beginning today, I will try to live life to the fullest, under all circumstances.
I have just learned how to ride the bike!
Yeah, it's a bit embarrassing to blog about it but I'm just ecstatic that at my age, I was still able to learn a new skill as basic as biking. I've made many attempts in the past to learn it but I guess I never followed it up. Or maybe I wasn't determined enough to want to do it. But just before I left for Cardiff, I made a resolution that yes, this time, no matter what it takes, I'm going to learn to ride the bike.
Perhaps it also helped that I shared this resolution with others. I attended a workshop at the Graduate Centre called 'Steps to Success', which was about being positive about yourself and moving towards your goals. There were only seven of us, all postgraduate students, in that workshop and despite our ages (ranging from 25 to 50) and interesting-sounding courses, I found out that all of us have many insecurities, fears, worries. There's Christine, a beautiful, accomplished architect from the Middle East on her third year of PhD talking about being afraid of failing. Except for one local, all of us were foreign students, all on our own, which probably explains why we're more vulnerable to negative thoughts.
Near the end of the two full-day workshop, we had to share personal goals that entailed moving out of our comfort zones or negative habits. One said 'I would learn to accept compliments more graciously' while, on my part - learn how to ride the bike! While my new friends were somewhat surprised that I didn't know this basic skill, they were all very encouraging and we promised to regularly meet and update each other on our progress.
With my secret out in the world, I knew I just had to do it. Last April, I bought a used bike with the help of my Welsh flatmate. And about two weeks after that, I got biking lessons from Y and H, two of my flatmates. 'Don't mind them' they kept telling me as they held the seat of the bike as I carefully balanced myself. 'I think it's amazing that you're doing this', H told me during one of our practices at Bute Park. The good thing about learning it here was that, people gave you space to do your thing. The Brits at the park would just look at us practising and they would just smile or walk past us. I'm thankful I had everything I needed for my 'project': I had time, friends who were willing to teach me, and an environment that gave me emotional space to learn.
Last Sunday, exactly one month from my last biking lesson, I learned to go off by myself, without no one pushing or holding the seat of my bike. I felt like I was flying! For the first two minutes after I took off, I was so overwhelmed I called out to J, another Pinay student who joined me that afternoon at the park. So this was how it feels like to finally learn what I've always wanted to do. I felt so alive - with all the colours and scents around me so vivid and strong.
I guess learning new skills, and learning new things in general, give you a sense of wonder that can't be captured by words. And so I've decided to create a new blog to mark a new sense of awakening in me. I can only be fully alive to the extent that I allow myself to embrace life. I know I will continue to have fears, but I will not be held prisoner by it. Beginning today, I will try to live life to the fullest, under all circumstances.
"Dance like nobody's watching; love like you've never been hurt. Sing like nobody's listening; live like it's heaven on earth." - Mark Twain
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