Past and Future

This morning I was thinking about my past and future. Not long term, just the immediate spans before and after now.

On the way to school I suddenly started thinking about NS. I think it was because we didn't have PE yesterday, and the fact that the Napfa results are going to be submitted to Mindef very soon, that got me thinking about it. Now, whenever I talk about the army, people expect me to launch into a barrage of angry attacks. They think I dislike the army so much because of the host of reasons I usually offer: It's a bloody waste of time, the regimentation sucks, I have no national pride, etc. That's only part of the story. My antagonism towards the army is only the corollary of something deeper. It is my fear.

I fear entering the army. It's a deep, primal fear that guts my system and sends my heart rate up. I avoid thinking about the army not because I can't stand it but because I'm afraid of it. Why? Because of everything it represents. Entering the army is a new environment. But it's different from any new environment. It is so fearful to me because it represents a new environment where I am completely cut off from everything I hold familiar and true. In the army, I am forced to rely upon the very thing that has never been my forte. My physical strength.

I am an academic, honestly speaking and without ego. I am an academic in that studying is my strength. Logical, rational debate is my weapon. Never in my life have I ever come close to possessing the physical strength or menace to actually pummel someone. But it has never mattered that much, save during the annual Napfa, because I have always relied on academic strength to get by. In the army however, my situation will be entirely different. For two whole years, I will be forced to constantly rely upon my physicality to survive. That scares the shit out of me because sometimes I honestly wonder if I can take all the physical training, the regimentation and the inane orders. I actually wonder if I'll physically survive BMT. I will be shuffled into a company of people I have never known, and what frightens me is that they might all be ah bengs or jocks conversing in hokkien, mandarin, every language except the one I use. There will be bullying and sabotage and teasing and embarrasment because the entire atmosphere of the army centres around brute strength, something I lack. For once in my life I will be close to helpless.

I will be stuck in an environment of constant machochism and male camaraderie. Now, I'm all for guy bonding, but when the bonding becomes all gritty and grimy and sweaty and involves soccer, something I hear army guys do very often, I freak out. Give me a library or a classroom or something that actually requires mental strength, and I'll bond all you want. There's something crass about male bonding that repells me if it involves nothing but physical puns.

So there, an early morning horror story to brighten my day. The reason I get pissed off by the SAF is because I fear entering it. For two years my mind will rot away, doing absolutely nothing mental. Even during the lectures that I hear they have they will be about assembling new ways to murder people. I wonder how many fresh faced conscripts that pass those gates each year consider the fact that they are being trained to kill. I wonder how many wives and girlfriends, no matter how proud they get on National Day as the parade marches past, consider the fact that their men are now skilled butchers.

Oh well, I guess if you can't fight them, join them. No doubt wise sages will soon enlighten me with the positive aspects of NS. The toughened body (of course), the stamina, discpline, perserverance. But having a bright outlook doesn't mean my fear will be any less.


The Past.

During Econs lecture today I chuckled to myself because I realised God has a sense of humour. One week from now will be the school's annual dance concert, Rapture, the next biggest thing on the college social calendar after Grad Night. Last year, around this time, I was in an emotional whirlwind. I think my companions through the lecture got me thinking about this again.

I shall enjoy Rapture much more this time round. Last year I sat through it with a pounding heart, my nerves on end. The smiles after were forced. My exit was as quick as possible.

Not long after I had a long sms conversation with a certain someone.

It was at this point in my thoughts that I realised, how ironically, that one year on, I sat between both of them, at ease and in peace.

God has a sense of humour, and it's at these moments that I thank Him for it.

Bring me through all my storms on eagles' wings, Father. Keep me in perfect peace.

Not quite deja vu

Yesterday I witnessed the demise of a team that was headed for destruction from the beginning. I wish my words weren't so harsh, nor so cynical, but no matter how far they've come, no matter how much they've improved, it has not been enough. They still cannot think fast enough, nor see fast enough, even hear fast enough. Next year Singapore will crash and burn in the World Schools Championships unless the potential team drastically improves. Owen and I predict they will be out by the octofinals. Given the time and amount of training they'll receive I'd revise that to maybe the quarters. But hey, miracles have been known to happen.

So it wasn't deja vu. I wonder if their seniors felt some sense of vindication as their juniors undid what we did to them last year. Dennis says they should be feeling insulted, that so bad a team won where they did not. I suppose there is logic in that. But a win's a win anyway.

Lousy debates aside, I look forward to getting into a good one myself soon. Nothing makes me feel like debating more than watching one, especially a lousy one. So, here's to the All Stars quadrangulars/tournament soon! (I hope Ms de Souza is reading this haha... Anyway give us a call and we'll book the rooms or something :) Ah, but everyone's so busy these days...

I realise that I quite like Boey Kim Cheng's style of poetry. I find the language very vivid and rich. It lacks the lyrical flowing style of classical poetry, but the free verse is strangely appealing to me. It has a strong flow in itself too.

Tomorrow will be a long day. But right now, I just feel like sleeping. Ngargh. If only we could return to a carefree life for a while. Or is there such a thing to return to in the first place?

A short and brilliant (considering how long it's been) spar made my day. Debating is like cycling, I guess. You never forget how to do it. And a dip into that pool once again is really refreshing, especially after a long day at school. I realise that everytime I watch some sporting match involving the school I somehow feel like debating after that. My own sport, haha.

So anyway, it's been a while since I blogged, and the events since then have just whizzed past me. It's all becoming a blur now, with nothing significant standing out. I enjoy the company of friends, getting over the boredom of the eternal tutorials, becoming slightly crazy in the absence of progress.

This morning I missed my stop for the second time in a month. I must stop this before it becomes habit. It annoys me, really, committing such silly mistakes.

Then later in the day I got back my Korean War script that gave me some reassurance that yes, I am making some progress, that my efforts are paying off. I musn't slacken now, nor lose pace, but the days are growing soo long, and the lessons so dreary. Our econs tutor, to put it blandly, is slowing down the class. It appears extremely ironic that a subject so concerned with productivity levels should be the one generating the least amount of it, or so it would seem. I've been daydreaming with Dai Wei about kidnapping Mr Nga and forcing him to teach our class instead. Oh for some clarity out of this mess!

I shall enjoy tomorrow. We shall be involved in hard labour, followed by PC, arguably still my favourite subject, then finally pizza. After all this I shall go off to YJ for the quarterfinals of the debating championships. I really hope they win. I want to see deja vu, and today's spar has whetted my appetite.

Anyway, this Sunday will be the More To This Life concert. I really like the dances, especially Why. It never fails to move me. And I particularly like one line in Vincent's poem.

Oh I bear the burden of a life of days

It seems really apt.


I still tremble, yet want to draw near to the fire. I think I have a phobia of the altar.

Catharsis

Today was thoroughly eventful. To begin with, it was the Council's stepping down ceremony. Now, everytime I blog or speak about the Council people expect negative things to come out of my mouth, but this time I won't say any of that. In spite of everything, if they did one thing really well, which I think is plainly obvious, it was in sheer effort and determination. So I think it was appropriate that Mrs Lim read the passage on the talents for the ceremony. So well done, thou good and faithful servants.

Derek posted the Olympic motto on the stepping down video, which ran something like, "The essential thing is not to have triumphed, but to have fought well." How typically diplomatic of the Olympics, but the battle-hardened cynic might reply, "No one remembers the first runner-up." Isn't that the beef about today's society? No matter how much we praise the effort, people still value the result at the end. Our meritocracy is not truly meritocratic in that it fails to recognise the merit in working hard, which does not always translate into good results, the one thing that the system really recognises. And I think living today really gets people down because of this basic flaw in the system: the absence of a clear link between effort and success.

This week has not been a very good week, because all the BT2 results came out. There have been great disappointments. But thank God for the little joys planted here and there: a grade better than expected, a friend to take comfort in, etc. Before I entered JC, I never truly understood the power of catharsis, but now I do. I think for me the best catharsis comes through speaking or crying. There is comfort in pouring out your woes to a friend who understands. There is comfort in collapsing into a heaving wrack of tears. But the ultimate comfort is that we are not of this world, though we be in it, and that we belong to a society higher than this, one where effort is recognised, every tear is noted, every triumphed celebrated, every valley walked with, every mountain scaled with.

And in the final analysis, there is more to this life than just grades, and even the paper chase takes on a new meaning when you know who you're chasing it for.

The morning after

This morning I woke up with a profound (should I use profound? perhaps strong would be better) sense of emptiness. There was absolutely nothing to look forward to, nothing to get excited about, nothing left to do. I said last night that I'd done my last service to the school, but I only felt it this morning. College Day was the last big event for me. I have nothing left to do but study. All the weeks in front of me now are just filled with days upon days of studying and getting back results that I don't want to get. My History is screwed, I don't know what to expect for Econs, and there's an immense amount of revision to do. On top of this, my mind blackens whenever I consider the fact that every minute that passes brings me closer to NS.

But I want to talk about the emptiness for a while, because it occupied me for some time this morning (how ironic). It gave me the realisation that for a long time, my life has just been a series of events to look forward to. So the minute I have nothing left to do, I'm done for. But this is not how it's meant to be. Where does God come into the picture then? I was wondering, because am I not supposed to find complete and utter satisfaction and joy in Christ? Of course, I think inexpressible joy cannot be found on Earth, because then no one would bother going to Heaven. But if I can feel so empty on a Saturday morning, then it makes me wonder if the focus of my life has been wrong. I don't have to wonder, really. Deep down I know. I've been very preoccupied by just living from day to day, looking forward to one event after another, that I've neglected the things that really matter. And right now, the struggle for me is to find that right balance of living for God in the midst of my daily routine.

Ah well, I don't feel so bad anymore, but I still dread going back to school on Monday morning, and settling back (settling back? or starting?) into revision mode. Well, at least there ARE some bright sparks along the way. Rapture, the band concert (during which Vicks plans to abandon me), Brendon's still-to-come dinner treat, friends. But there, see, what happens when these all pass?

There is a saying: The man who has God and the whole world has no more than the man who has nothing but God.
That gives me tremendous comfort.

The Disembodied Voice

Finally, College Day is over. No more rehearsals, no more blazers, no more standing up for long hours. All the pomp and pageantry is done, and I've completed my last service to the school. My oratorical career in SA has come full circle. I kind of like the fact that I became a disembodied voice at the end. Always wanted to try that, haha.

So, now, I can focus on my studies. I'm not satisfied with the results I've gotten thus far, and I frankly feel as though I'm stagnating or deproving in fact. I have to try harder or work smarter to move on, move higher. Ah well, to work.

Last night I had dinner with the debate alumni. We learned some interesting stuff, at length though, thanks to the story telling skills of Ms de Souza. Incidentally, If you're reading this Adrienne, you and Candice can still manage make noise at College Day two years after you've left.

So yeah, I'm very tired now. Going to bed.

Chris was talking today about how God wants us in that place where we feel that we absolutely cannot do anymore, anything without Him, and how that in that moment, that should be the kind of attitude we should have in relying on Him. Total faith, total dependence, Peter on water, a child in her father's hands.

It didn't really strike me till I just read someone's blog and was thinking to myself, well, he wants to do well, good for him, but take it easy boy. And something really disgusting came into my mind that made me realise how true it is, that the rich will always find it hardest to inherit the kingdom, because they don't know what it feels like to be utterly dependent upon one person for their life. And once again, my old enemy, Pride, rears its ugly head.