mostly earnest

Tag: reflections

  • The First Half Of 2023

    These events occurred between January and June 2023 and are not in chronological order. The reflections shared here are adapted from my journal.

    1. After two rounds of interviews, I got accepted for an internship. I enjoyed the work but the pay was pitiful. Guess it’s better than a non-paying internship or at least that’s what I told myself to feel better about my labour.

    2. I was admitted into hospital for ten days with vestibular neuritis. That was a scary time in my life. At the risk of sounding dramatic, I really thought I was going to die. But when you lose your ability to walk and can no longer control the movements in your eye (I didn’t even know that was possible) it truly feels like your time might be up.

    3. The experience of being in a hospital in Malta couldn’t have gone more smoothly. Barring the food of course but then again when have hospitals been known for their culinary flair? I spent a lot of time observing the Maltese people, how they communicated and interacted with one another. Along the way, I managed to pick up a few words/phrases that came in handy for extracting a laugh from the nurses.

    4. To our relief, my ten-day stay in the hospital, along with an MRI scan, came at absolutely no cost courtesy of the Maltese government and my being married to my wonderful EU passport-wielding wife. Never thought a marriage certificate would serve to be the second-most important document in our possession.

    5. My first trip to Geneva, Switzerland was quite an adventure. I flew there solo and navigated buses myself to meet Nine. Travelled with my walking stick and it allowed me to bypass the long airport queues. I couldn’t help to feel a little conflicted considering I was not as wobbly as just a couple months previously.

    6. Emma, Nine’s friend from Scotland, came to visit and we went to see some old rocks together.

    7. Then, Deens came to visit, and we enjoyed a wonderful week together, reconnecting, laughing, and simply sitting side by side, mindlessly crafting our IG stories and feeds. I had missed her immensely. Her visit couldn’t have come at a more perfect time. I was grappling with overwhelming loneliness after the move, and having someone who knows me, who has witnessed my growth over the years, and who feels like a living piece of home, was exactly what my weary soul needed.

    8. It took another two months before I could wean myself off the walking stick. My vision had mostly returned to normal. The lag or drag I’d felt for months was gradually disappearing.

    9. I lay low at home, waiting for summer to end. I did appreciate the longer daylight hours, but I’m not a fan of the heat. We bought an outdoor fan for our indoor home. It was noisier than I liked it to be but it saved us from turning the AC on all day. I spent my days practising calisthenics, reading, watching films, and hanging out with some new friends we’d made from showing up at migrant meet-ups and other events.

    10. In the last six months, I’ve attended a handful of protests which included a march advocating for refugees.

    11. Couldn’t find a good book shop in Malta but there is an art house cinema so I’m counting my blessings.

  • Unscrew The Nut

    Or Post-Episode Notes #3

    Couple of episodes ago on the Al & Al Podcast, we talked about the difficulty of navigating male friendships. I admitted to having trouble connecting with other men. If you listened to the episode, you can tell I was still untangling the knots, dissecting the possible causes but couldn’t quite nail down any solid conclusions.

    Then I saw an interview on Twitter with Jane Fonda and something clicked.

    1. “Women’s friendships are very different than men’s friendships.”
      She says that men sit side by side, watching sports or cars or women, whereas women sit facing each other, eye to eye, and they ask for help when they’re in trouble.

      The first thing that came to mind was how much male friendships operate on this level of utility or pleasure. It is either based on what one can do for the other or based on an enjoyment of a shared activity, usually in the pursuit of fleeting pleasures or emotions. In both of these friendships, it is a means to an end. The other person is not being valued because of who they are.

      Aristotle describes the greatest form of friendship as the friendship of virtue. These are the people you like for themselves, the people whose values you hope will rub off on you so as to inspire you to become a better person.

      It occurred to me that it is not that I have trouble connecting with other men, but it is hard to find men who make that cut of ‘virtuous’. Like I said in the podcast, most guys I’ve met only want to talk about stuff – stuff they owned, stuff they’ve seen, stuff they’ve done.

      Though I know it may not always be the case and we should be wary of sweeping statements like these, it did make me think about the women friends in my life and how they are generally more open in asking for and offering help, support, and encouragement, as well as talking about matters of the heart.
    2. Her favourite ex-husband believes you can’t make friends after 60.
      Studies have shown that men generally get lonelier the older they get, and this is not for want of friends to hang out with, but people to whom they can actually air feelings of vulnerability. Masculine norms coupled with the prevalence of homophobia teach men that vulnerability is weakness. Men are not taught to invest deeply in interdependent relationships with other men. And so this fear of judgement can make it hard for those who are struggling to share their challenges.

      Jane Fonda’s suggestion and I think everyone should model after is…
    3. Be intentional with your friendships.
      What she means is that you need to pursue people you want to be friends with.

      There is a scene in this Swedish film, Together (2000), where an older guy confesses to purposely unscrewing his newly fixed pipe just so he could get the plumber to come again and they could talk some more. After a couple of shared beverages, he opens up about how lonely he has been feeling and expresses that it is better to eat porridge together than a pork cutlet alone.

      It is obvious from the way the plumber shifts in his seat that he is uncomfortable talking about such emotional matters. But as the viewer has been shown, the plumber himself is also struggling with loneliness and despair, after his wife’s departure due to his addiction with alcohol and the physical abuse that followed it.

      Eventually though, the plumber comes around and opens up about how much he misses his family. And the older guy ends up encouraging him to make amends and see his wife to ask for her forgiveness.

      This entire exchange is a powerful demonstration of what healthy male friendships can achieve.

      Mostly I related to the older guy who messed with his plumbing on purpose just so he could make a friend. This is not to say that all of us should start breaking things at home to make friends, but sometimes we do need to put in the effort if we want quality friendships. Friendships that don’t only make you a less lonely person, but that challenge you to be better.

      I myself have done several versions of this – I once joined a gym to make friends with a guy I thought had a great sense of humour and who I knew I would get along with. Then there was another time when a colleague with whom I’d never worked before asked if anyone from the company would join him in attending an exhibition abroad. I was always impressed with his work and he seemed like a sound guy so I said yes.

      These friendships are still solid and flourishing after all these years. I have learned from them how to be kinder, warmer, adaptable, and more confident. And they in turn have found our conversations to be liberating and free from judgement.

    It is a cycle. And in hindsight, I believe it was growing up with community, places like the church, where I met people who were great models of vulnerability that encouraged me to open up. It has been 10 years since I left, but the values have stayed with me.

    Outside the church, it is trickier to emotionally connect with men, especially men who were only taught to model stoic behaviours and knew no other modes of expressing themselves. But like Jane Fonda, I am optimistic that if I continue to say or show my intentions of wanting to be their friend, they will stick around.

  • Making Art

    I saw a film recently that I haven’t been able to stop thinking about.

    It’s called Paterson and it’s about a bus driver who shares the same name as the town he lives in and who devotes most of his time to writing poetry.

    What struck me about this film is how much value is placed in the quiet pursuit of creativity and art. It is an ode to making art for art sake even if it never sees the light of day.

    For someone who shares a lot of what I make, I think about the motivations behind the impulse to create. On one level, it is the rush of exhilaration from using my voice and wanting to be seen. But on another, it is about finding connection and seeing ourselves in others. It is about pointing at things and inviting others to wonder with you.

    Perhaps my motivation is closer to that of Kurt Vonnegut’s when he said:

    Practicing an art, no matter how well or badly, is a way to make your soul grow, for heaven’s sake. Sing in the shower. Dance to the radio. Tell stories. Write a poem to a friend, even a lousy poem. Do it as well as you possibly can. You will get an enormous reward. You will have created something.

    Writing, making photos, cutting hair, doing the things that I’m doing is not to show what I can do but to share what is here.

  • Leaving MY

    The question I get asked a lot lately is how do I feel about leaving Malaysia. The problem with the question is that it assumes I have an equal choice in the matter.

    In the day to day, the reasons for leaving are not obvious. We are a dual-income household living in a bougie part of town, we can afford food deliveries, buy nice things and go on holidays. We have good jobs and derive great fulfilment from the work we do. We have a tight group of friends — people we really enjoy spending time with — and also a strong sense of community. We are considered by all accounts, quite comfortable.

    Yet what people don’t see is the heightened anxiety of continuously living in a country that is run by a fascist, bigoted, police-state government. The fear that I am only one police roadblock away from harassment. The fear that the medical privilege I depend on to survive would suddenly be clamped down. The fear that at any moment we could be separated because her freedom of movement is tied to her employment. The fear that we will be denied ‘next of kin’ privileges because our union is unrecognised. The fear that any liberties we might enjoy now is short-lived and highly dependant on who is in power.

    If there is any chance for us to live a more dignified life not dictated by the whims and fancies of people in uniform, should we not take it? If it means I get to live my truth and have the state recognise my existence and our love, shouldn’t we go? Can I really say I don’t want to leave if my survival, our happiness, and our lives depended on it?

    The truth is I want to leave but I wish I didn’t have to.