early retirement plan

Devi finally gets what life is all about

yes, believe it or not, i do now.

it doesn't matter how many books you've read, how many classes you've attended, how many profound films and other works of arts have shaken you to the core - nothing amounts to the act of doing.

i could literally feel the molecules inside me changing, restructuring. i could feel the unveiling of more layers of illusions than i thought i've been doing all this time.

it is no wonder the indians call it karma yoga: the yoga of act.

nothing amounts to the act of giving. no, not gifting.

GIVING.

nothing liberates you more than the act of creating a space for someone else's happiness - or helping someone else find the light out of the darkness they are in - and you not wanting to be a part of it. no glory, no compensation, no debts owed, no power trip, no bylines, no promotion, no nothing, just kindness.

loving kindness

that my friend, is what life is all about.

real world

i got an sms from a yoga friend in albania, she asked me how my transition to "the real world" had been. she said she wanted to keep sticking to early rising, but it's been hard.

i've had the same problem. though i manage to continue the early morning meditation, it's not everyday i could do it. one morning i woke up and found the better half occupying the living room - my practice room - watching the news. on weekend mornings i feel more prone to cuddling with him under the cover rather than waking up and showering for the practice. i figure maybe if i had been a commuter from jakarta's outskirt with a 9 to 5 job, i would have been more accustomed to waking up at the break of dawn. but what do i know?

what i know is that i feel my post-bali glow slowly fading. last night i had dinner in front of the tv again, watching Scrubs and browsing the net - multi-tasking like the good ol' day.

that's not a problem though. i am a realist and i acknowledge that life consists of inconsistencies and of ups and downs. it's just a matter of accepting and moving on.

the hardest is, however, going back to doing something you no longer believe in. in other word, work has been hard these days.

then it's possible that i've been working myself a bit too hard too, juggling my job, teaching, and practice everyday. it might have taken a toll on my health - i've been down with a cold for two days.

or maybe it's just my system finally breaking down from the shock of returning to such a polluted air. i think it's the latter. but anyway. 

the beginning of seeking

what a beautiful and perfectly fitting conclusion to a month of sweat, tears, joy and clarity.

i cannot but be thankful not only for having undergone such an organically transformative process, but also for finally grasping and having had a real taste of that warming feelings of "loving kindness" - and I LOVE IT!!

if there's anything i've learned from this experience is human capacity for it.

to be among people who are on a path of seeking like you, and who are so open to the experience and process is comforting. it takes away all the prejudice and distrusts, but without that fake politeness and guardedness. it makes for a beautiful experience, one i probably should not expect to repeat again for fear of disappointment.

saturday morning after our last meditation and pranayama, Emil told us to keep the silence (we always assembled in silence for meditation every morning), and take a few walks outside in the nature.

after walking through the rice field, I went back to the shala and started noticing the lotus flowers in the pond. lotus is a significant symbol in the eastern esoteric philosophies such as buddhism, hinduism and especially in yoga.

its beauty lies in the fact that lotus has roots that hangs all the way to the bottom of the water, touching the earth, yet it has no need for the soil.

in Emil's words: "it lives on the earth but not of the earth."

to me, this is what being a yogi is all about. you don't withdraw from your life but you no longer have to feed on it. let go of the attachments and you are one more step (one tiny step) towards liberation or emancipation.

i don't have to quit coffee if i'm not ready to give it up. but i'm no longer attached to it. these days i take my bali coffee with a certain amount of gratitude for another of earth's wonderful bounties - the coffee beans.

it was during the 15 minutes of this moving silence when i began to notice all the stone balinese statues of deities in the compound which all my life i had always taken for granted as garden ornaments.

they were all treated with respect by the balinese, who see them as a representation of their faith - wrapped in fabrics, adorned with flowers, or enshrouded with clouds from the constantly burning incense.   

it began to sink in me how enriched our individual life could be if we could just take smaller and slower steps in life and see a little more intentionally with a little more opennes and a lot less judgment.

i'd spent a whole month in one of the most beautiful and serene part of the world not having done this. in fact, i've spent almost all of my grown up life post- college just getting from one point to another (even in times of leisure), seeing only what i allowed myself to see, eventhough i had the luxury, the privilege and the opportunity to do the opposite.

suddenly i was overcome with this revelation - for the first time in my life (not including some drug-induced moments in younger days when everything was actually pretty distorted) i was really seeing: the trees, the shrines, the ponds, the temple, people.

but the 15 minutes was quickly up - emil struck the gong for us to reassemble.

"let's quit all this silent business, shall we," he said, immediately reminding us to return to the ground through his gentle wit.

i have to tell you my admiration for this 60-something man is boundless.

his philosophy lesson wrapped up our month-long training. we have come full circle, we have travelled thousands of years passing through the periods of pre-vedic, the brahmins, the upanishads, the muslims, the tantrics, the british colonials, the 20th century gurus, the jaguar-driving copyrights-protected yogis; across india, china, persia, egypt, thailand bali, europe, america; all the way to where we are on our sticky mats: the modern day yogis.

the ones who will be going home soon with a whole set of new tools.

what are we going to do with them? will we come back a changed person? will we be able to live normally again in this "normal" world? will we be able to cope with the daily grind that is life? the works, the traffic jams, the relationships, the gossiping and cynical peers?

i know the answer to that already. it's only my second day at home and first day at work, and i still feel protected by the stillness that is in me. better still, i haven't even turned on my tv eventhough it's sitcom night.

later that night, hours after the emotionally charged graduation's "finishing circle", some of us had dinner at a nice restaurant, each with a bottle of beer or a glass of cocktail. it's nice to know that yogis can still have fun too. some even had burgers.

later, six of us decided to ditch the ghost town of ubud to a night club about 15 minutes away. we boogied like there's no tomorrow and Daniel, the sweet musclebound new zealander, even took the stage to belt out a couple of rock tunes.

we stumbled back to the village, reluctant to say our final parting words. Dan's was the coolest. before he went his way and disappeared into the darkness he said : "keep on seeking."

i slept at 3 that night after downloading pictures and videos into my camera and ripping julia's yoga music. i should leave the village by 9.30 a.m. the next day to catch my flight.

next thing i knew a rooster woke me up at 6:20 a.m., throat parched from the alcohol and hair reeking of cigarettes smoke in the club, i felt a longing for meditation already.

Dan's words made even more sense now - we will keep on seeking.

we have only just begun.

almost there

...but not quite.

we have three more days to go, and then graduation. Let met recap what has happened so far:

- marisol, 24, never went back to class - except for one session of practice teaching on monday, when she did okay teaching, but could not concentrate when other students in her group were teaching. she has been in the care of the teachers (mostly Caz, the archetypal cool yoga mom) for 24/7 since last week. the doctor prescribed her with sleeping meds so she could at least sleep these days. i met her and caz yesterday as i walked back in from the temple and they were walking out somewhere, she seemed ok. more beautiful than ever. she'd gone swimming over the weekend with the japanese girls and had a bit of a tan. i believe melancholy actually agrees with her, she looked so gorgeous.

we hugged and i told her i missed her. she said she missed everyone too. she seemed ok. someone said one of her relatives will pick her up and she would have to fly back to mexico city instead of going on her planned year of spiritual journey. and someone said that her family did not seem to be too surprised to hear about her episode. maybe she did have a history. anyway, bless her heart.

- i spent a very restorative and soul satisfying weekend with the better half who flew in on friday night. he got in to the village around 12.30 am, walking up the steep stairs (70 something steps) with the flash light and the driver and balancing on the precariously narrow path along the rice field.

he loves my house - have i told you about my house? it's a big modern house in the middle of the rice field, one bedroom, two large patios in the front and back, a modern kitchen and dining room and spacious living room complete with a CD player and jazz cds. it's one of the closest houses to the shala also, about 2 minute walking distance. the house is surrounded by a carp pond where sometimes a group of ducks would go for a swim. i like to consider them my pet ducks. needless to say, it's a highly coveted property, and all my friends wished they had gotten their hands on the house first.

anyway, the better half spent much of his time, relaxing at the house while i went to my saturday classes. the rest of that day and sunday, we went out eating and for coffee, visited bookstores, had drinks at jazz bar (cool blues band), had plenty of massage, met and had conversations with interesting people (including my fellow yogis) and generally just winded down. i think three days in the village did him good - he sms-ed me later before taking off saying he wanted to retire young. i said "let's".

- we went to gunung kawi temple yesterday, one of the most sacred and ancient temples in bali, about 45 minutes drive from ubud. it's a gorgeous place tucked in the middle of rice terrace where water coming from a waterfall runs through. they said it might be about 1,000 years old. it is where a lot of people, including non balinese go to meditate or sometimes pray for prosperity. it is not to be mistaken with another sacred and ancient site in east java of the same name, though the two might be connected.

we had our philosophy lesson there on a natural stone ledge about the size of stage. on our right size was a huge stone wall divided into five different sections, each of which was carved into a deified ancestor. as emil was expounding on hatha yoga (he's finally gotten to the modern day yoga), a slim but long green snake fell from the top of the stone wall and was in erected pose fixing on a small frog. it was an incredible sight for a city girl like me. later we continued the class where the snake was, watched the balinese girl pradnya dance (sans music), and meditated. 

it was a lovely, lovely experience. we all had to wear a sarong(including the guys) - not the beach kind - and a sash or a traditional belt over the shirt. pradnya lend me her kebaya blouse, and dressed me up in a tight, tight corset. i couldn't do abdominal breathing in that thing. but it was cool, like a little dress up party.

- i am bonding with pradnya, i wish i had done it earlier, but she's such a lovely girl. i'm reading a book on the balinese people and everything clicks now. i feel so ashamed about being indonesian and coming here often but never really tried to get to know the balinese and its intricate way of life deeper. i realise now that my knowledge of bali and its people had been superficial and shallow and i feel ashamed of my fellow jakarta and java residents, who often looked down on the balinese. it is such a complex society and i'm so thankful that this pocket of heaven is still here during my lifetime. if bali were in java (which 15 century ago might have resembled bali) it would not have been able to preserve itself. 

anyway, next time i go to bali, i think i'll skip the beach.

the domino effect

im not sure what it is. maybe it's something cellullar within us, maybe it's all the intense female energy (20 women, 4 guys), or maybe this yoga stuff really is potent.

i believe in the latter, but also the combination of the other two.

we were long warned, even before we came down here, that this would be strenous both physically, mentally and emotionally. this week proved all this.

after the first week's initiation phase - when everything is still novel, and you are making efforts to fit in the social scene, internally processing who can be your friends and who won't be for the duration of the course - came the second week when everything was pretty joyful.

our energy level went up, our body was opening up, and we're spending time with people who strangely seemed so familiar by now that we feel as if we've known them all their lives, even though they were all stranger just a week ago.

third week: energy level drops, and emotions are bubbling up to the surface. by this time, we have no reservation about dropping onto our mat in the middle of practice and sobs in child pose.

first it was mardy, the gentle graphic designer from australia. just days before she was so ecstatic and full of joy, recalling her first ever profound meditative experience here (naturally drawing envies from some of us who still struggle with the busy mind every morning and afternoon meditation). then one day this week, she suddenly broke down after one of the teachers strongly adjusted her during the hip opening practice. then she started to become withdrawn, and even shunned julia, the german girl, with whom she had been attached at the hips.

within the next two days she came out of it, saying she just felt like she lost control of her mind. but more casualties have since followed like a domino effect.

julia was sobbing after strong backbends in the ashtanga yesterday morning. sisse, the former actress from denmark, couldn't stop her tears since our intense afternoon asana session yesterday where louisa kept us in poses like samasana (sideway split) or hanumanasana (split) for what seemed like 10 minutes each.

like i said, it's cellullar, but it's not just physical. the hips are a pretty intense area in our body - maybe because of it being the site of procreational organs - where all tensions are stored and are probably kept there for most people's lifetime.

but different people are affected by different things. for me, it was the pranayama yesterday - when i felt my breath retention was much longer than usual which led to a beautiful meditation - and the standing balance this morning after garudasana (eagle pose), where i strangely felt like a massive burden had been lifted off my chest. yep, i dropped down on my mat and let it all out.

for others it could be really tight shoulders (where most of the tension is all bunched up, affecting your postures and generally making you all closed up), or anything.

but some people take longer time to get out of it. marisol, our lovely friend from mexico city, who always looks very trendy and composed, one day showed up late in philosophy all red eyes and gloomy looking.

we all provide as much support to each other - there is a lot of hugging and touching here - but marisol, although seemed to get better later that day, kind of went over the edge. rumour has it she had some kind of psychotic episode, and she had been in the care of Caz, one of the teachers, all day today.

maybe this is what emil, our philosophy teacher, said when he refered to a revolution - a spiritual path that goes back in reverse is never easy.

we are never taught to have so much deep awareness of ourselves and the energy within that when we actually are heading there, it is easy to feel as if we are losing control of ourselves.

emil is wonderful, he is so anti dogma, pragmatic, but is so intellectual, lucid, and just full of integrity. he never preaches, he never say we should do this or shouldn't do that. he teaches us the historical perspective of what we are getting into and gives socioreligious context to all this. then he turns the table on us and said, it's all just yoga, it's all up to us. for a philosophy that has been around for over two milleniums, it's beautiful, simple, modern and sophisticated,  but at the same time contradictory and often overlapping (which is what i love about it). just as i have suspected, there is no black and white - and emil made all of it is so clear.

i am of the same opinion with other students: that emil is one of the best teachers we've ever had.

anyway, i'm sure marisol will bounce back. all the emotional release has actually made me feel so joyful and appreciative of everything. and i felt that all the others are like that too. the energy we share is beautiful and is full of trust.

honestly, i've never felt more lucid than this.

your truly,

d

the village people

so let me just tell you what's going on.

i'm in the town of ubud again, having finished classes for the day. this afternoon left anatomy 45 minutes earlier so i can have an interview with one of the first yoga masters in bali. while it was getting pretty interesting in the class, i had to rush out of the shala, through the walking path and down the steep steps to catch a motorcycle ride to town. i can't believe i'm doing this again, working, juggling things, when i'm supposed to experience the sensation of "just be".

anyway, the interview wasn't so bad, and the woman who owns bali spirit, bali's yoga center, who arranged my interview with the guy offered me - again - a job in her studio. they need a good indonesian teacher, she said. teaching in ubud? hm.... very difficult offer to refuse. maybe we can work out some sort of part time arrangement or something.

back to the story: i'm in a village called penestanan, just about 20 minutes walking distance from the town of ubud.

when i say village, i mean village: rice field, no cars and no street lights, which is a good way to keep us from wandering into town to have a drink or two at night (that and the meditation practice in the wee hour of the day). no matter how powerful your torch is, it's just not an ideal place to be wandering around at night if you're afraid of the dark.

but i do anyway, i mean it gets dark at around 6:30 p.m. here and one has to have dinner, doesn't one? especially considering that we only have one other meal in the day after our morning practice.

anyway, so, there are 24 of us in here - a motley crew of people from various nationalities and backgrounds. i just love diversity, and diverse is the only way to describe our bunch.

let see there are:

- 2 indonesians, including me, and a balinese girl who is sponsored by her company so she can teach yoga for the balinese (a very noble goal, i thought)

- a 37 year old canadian who was born in israel but grew up in canada and has canadian passport. she's been living in albania and working for the unicef for the past 5 years.

- three americans (all in self-imposed exile)  including a really cool woman in her late 40s who has been living in nepal with her husband for the last three decades, a kookie guy who teaches yoga in hong kong and has been living for 11 years and whose mom founded The franchise "California Fitness", and a rich american girl who has been living abroad by herself (Spain and now Paris) since she was 16.

- three new zealanders, including a woman who was 11 weeks pregnant and who had a miscarriage the moment she arrived in bali (poor woman had to do restorative poses for the first 11 days, her hips must be really opened by now), a really laidback muscular guy who has traveled all over the world and had just gotten married three months ago, and a 27-yr old neuropsychologist who had just gone back from doing volunteer works in burma.

- three australian women including a really, really  advanced ashtanga practitioner who teaches yoga 6 times a day in a hong kong studio (she's really not happy about the hours and is leaving to work with the california fitness founder in macao), a very gentle and slim 36-year old graphic designer who is on a serious spiritual quest, and a very blonde and leggy 23-year old who just had a baby and would sometimes breastfeed her during our class. she makes her own yoga clothes.

- three danish girls, including a former actress-turned yoga teacher with a killer body (who, during our self-inquiry group discussion, admitted she was a "sober alcoholic"), a blonde girl who has been to bali 6 times because her uncle has businesses there (she stays in his newly-built resort that hasn't been opened.); and a rapid-talking korean-born who will run for denmark's left leaning party in the legislative election when she gets back.

- an irish woman who is working in riyadh.

- two very hardworking japanese women(a music teacher and an office worker turned serious yogini).

- a woman from Hong Kong who just started to teach yoga at a local gym (she said hong kongers are really into hot yoga because they like to stay slim, even though they are all slim).

- a swedish guy who is a musician but owns a farm that he plans to sell and of which he will keep a part for yoga retreats. he was an emotional wreck on the first week because a rooster kept him awake all night and even after the rooster was taken away, he still couldn't sleep (my first time meeting him, every other words he said is inserted with the word "fuck"). but it turned out that he was having severe withdrawal from quitting his medication and all the strong pranayama practice magnified his emotion and state of mental agitation. finally he went to a doctor in denpasar and was prescribed the meds again.

- a former balerina for the british royal ballet (or something like that). she injured herself one too many times and couldn't dance anymore.

- a really driven german yoga teacher, who annoyed some people because of her continuous comments in class, but who turns to be a pretty sweet woman.

- a really pretty girl from mexico city, who had a degree in communication. she was gymnast until 14, and is now a yoga teacher. she is also on  spiritual quest.

- and last but not least - i'm not even sure what his nationality is - one of those international kids - an 18 year old guy who just finished high school. he has a US passport, but has been living in singapore for the last eight years, and grew up in Japan, Hong Kong and New Zealand. i really, realy admire him. when i was his age, i was experimenting with drugs, and was stupidly obssessed with my boyfriend. then again, my mom is not a yoga teacher. 

let's see i think i've got everyone covered. i'm gonna have to leave at that for now. have to meet people for dinner and going to dive tomorrow. precious one day weekend is going to pass by so quickly before i even know it :(.

yours truly

d

week 2

so here i am again, rushing between practice and class.

it's interesting this concept of being adjusted to one place. normally you put someone in a situation where there is intensive learning or socializing, where they are sort of forced to  immerse in a place full of people of different background, personalities and quirks, and it would take about a week before someone breaks down.

at least that is the way it is in the real world.

in the yoga world, someone breaks down too - but they don't have to feel so crappy and ashamed because they are around people who expect some sort of revolution to happen in their life - a spiritual revolution. that revolution could be so overpowering, that they are not completely ready for it - hence the breakdown.

people descend to this place with a hope of becoming a better version of themselves, to get a bit of light shone into their path, their consciousness - simply put, they make an effort NOT to become an asshole.

i like it here, i'm dying to writing at full length about my story and the life here, but there's just not enough time.

the schedule is full, six days a week, with sunday free. we start at 6.30 a.m. for meditation and pranayama everyday. then at 8 a.m. we have our asana practice of the day: which varies from day to day. tuesdays and thursdays are ashtanga day. today i did my first second series. i felt like a new person. seriously!

on most days, we only have two or 2.5 hour break after our practice before the next class, which could be either adjustment/prop skills, sequencing, teaching practice, anatomy, philosophy or self inquiry. twice a week we have meditation and pranayama at the end of the day. our day ended normally at around 6 or 6.30 p.m., except for saturday, which ends around 3 p.m.

last night we watched a movie on quantum physics. interesting stuff, but i have to watch it again to really get it.

everything except for the asanas is pretty new to me. but even in poses i'm used to, like some ashtanga/vinyasha poses, i have to be re-educated. which is good, that's what i came here for, to learn.

each of us have to make up our own personal practice for friday morning (or for those who don't want to do ashtanga on tuesdays and thursdays).

we have to look at our own body types and practice and see where we are lacking or weak, then make up a two-hour practice sequence based on our own assessment. this way, when we teach we can tailor the practice according to the needs of the individual students.

for me, we (the teachers and me) decide i'm pretty strong and flexible generally, except for the lowerback and the abdominal department. so my personal practice consists of a lot of abdominal exercises and lowerback opening.

i gotta tell you, it's pretty tough doing abdominal and backbends. but i'm just consoled by the thought that by the end of the month, i'm going to have a flat tummy, and a pretty damn strong lower back.

goal-oriented - very modern, but i'm applying the yogic way that puts emphasis on the process or tapas.

so far i have had no problems waking up at 5:30 in the morning for the meditation. but i'm still having problems with concentrating. as soon as i go into the meditating posture, my mind goes haywire.

but that's alright, human beings are not born to be meditators. we have hundreds of radio stations inside our head, and when we stop moving, and our breath become still, the radio stations become very active, at least that's what emil, our meditation teacher said.

the key, again, is tapas.

yours truly

d 

settling in

i am sitting at an internet cafe at the town of ubud on our first real break since monday.

it's a four hour break before the philosophy class at two, and within a blink everyone one rushed out of the shala, dispersing out of the village into town to visit the internet cafes, eat out at restaurants that have more than ten items on their maincourse menus, and - as for me earlier - shopping for yoga stuff.

i know it doesn't sound very yogi-like to shop on your day off, is it? but i can't help it: my new mat is falling apart, scattering blue rubbery bits to those unfortunate enough to plant themselves near me, and i seriously thought my yoga clothings need some improvement. since we wear yoga clothes for about ten hours a day, why not do justice to my sense of style by upgrading the yogi closet?

so there: Day Three of my month-long training. consumerism - again - had its way with the self content warrior.   

the practice was really tough today. it wasn't at all like the first day, when it was prety much manageable for most of us.

yesterday was ashtanga day, so i nailed that one pretty well since ashtanga has been my main practice this year.

but today is my moon day (meaning meanstruation day) and i was feeling a bit low last night. we had a monstrous three and a half hour anatomy class after adjustment class, and my stomach was swimming in acid; my head felt like it was going to explode.

someone gave me a paracetamol after dinner. it helped, but the energy level was still not at the level it should be.

even this morning's meditation and pranayama felt more strenous. and my right leg still fall asleep as soon as i go into "comfortable sitting position".

that's so oxymoronic: any cross leg seated position is only comfortable for about three minutes, not one hour fifteen minutes.

but then again, as much as i love yoga, it is full of contradiction and oxymorons. this morning, as we struggled to maintain our warrior poses for what seemed to be an eternity, Louisa said: "feel light, rest on your pose".

i'm sure i wasn't the only one mentally protesting: um... light? my thighs felt like they were about 20 kilos, and ... rest? that is that farthest thing from what we were doing.

but anyway, i'm not complaining, i'm strangely happy and settling in to the life here. the slow pace of life in the village, sans tv but with a bunch of jazz cds someone left at my place. i'm bonding again with Miles Davis. this is like the old time.

i have to wrap this up because i need to stop by the grocery to get vitamins and some meds, and most importantly, umbrella. it's been raining on and off since yesterday. the weather can be weird, but nice. cool, and very pure at the village. 

no time to go into details about things for now. maybe this sunday, when we finally have our first day off.

yours truly

d

scuba yogini

This, i'm afraid, is what happens when you combine two favorite pastimes into one hybrid sport: underwater yoga.

On the second thought, i may be able to patent this as a new brand of yoga. That is, if someone hasn't already done it.  

Maybe i'll name it bubbly yoga or aquasana or scuba om or immersion yoga.

Check out the hair-rising poses, which i performed for the better half last weekend, as we tested out our new gear: my bcd and D6, and his new camera and housing.

                                                                               

from the bottom of the 3m-deep body of water at Aquasports Jakarta, NAMASTE.

an unfinished thought

Lately, I couldn’t sleep as well as I have been for the past year or so.
When I say I couldn’t sleep well that means it takes more than ten minutes after my head touches the pillow before I actually fall asleep. It’s not much, I know, but that means waking up fifteen minutes later, and if you really treasure those early morning hours sitting at the dining table, collecting your spirit while sipping on hot milk before preparing for morning yoga practice, 15 minutes can be eternity.
Maybe it’s the coffee. I’ve recently gone back to coffee after an unwanted 6 a.m. flight to earthquake site in West Sumatra forced me to end a two-month hiatus and order my first cuppa from the flight attendant. The coffee tasted industrial, of course, like the liquid version of Styrofoam, but it was the best thing I’d had in months.
While I can assure you those hazy nights of intoxications are way behind me, and while I can’t even remotely remember the taste of a Marlboro light, I still need a form of drugs in my body.

And that, my friends, is caffeine.
So I blame it on caffeine, as I lay awake at nights, thoughts flashing at a speed and patterns too erratic to rein in. Often they cross path and linger for a while, forming a sort of sub-theme that feels as if it’s drilling a hole in me in ways that I cannot describe. An understated sadness about everything and everyone, about how the world operates in general, about how we will all end up in the scheme of things, about how the line often blurs between the victims and the victimisers.
The latter did not come out of nowhere. I’ve been thinking about this after the Virginia Tech shooting. I thought about it after the death of IPDN students in the hands of their seniors. I think about it every time I read just about any child molestation reports. I think about it a lot these days.

***

Something happened to me when I was young - something so horrible that no child should ever go through. And it happened repeatedly.
It was only years later when I realised that that was not supposed to happen to a little girl. But it did, and unless you hail from the planet Krypton and wear spandex body suit that spells "S" on the chest (or unless you "teleporto" yourself like Hiro Nakamura) there is no way to turn back the clock.

Hence regret, my friends, is a sentiment I rarely indulge in.

***

I am a person of my time. We are one bunch of narcissists, often too readily succumb to the act of self-watching. A generation not yet lost to the tradition of humanistic values, our umbilical cords remain uncut, pulling us in when we try to make the leap, keeping us grounded if not through a load of guilt trip.
We make precious of things that have no value to others. But we do it quietly, for fear of being spotted. We fancy ourselves greater than we really are. In front of the mirror, however, the flatness of our reflection shocks us, making us wonder whether it truly reflects us.

***

My childhood experience did not consume me and turn me into an angry monster or a latent (or dormant, for that matter) "victimiser". It made me who I am today. And if I weren’t who I am today, god knows what I would’ve been.

Frankly, my friends, I wouldn't want to entertain that thought.