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I’ve put too many things aside. Things that needed to be done. Things that needed to be said.

I made excuses for them, I made excuses for others. I made excuses for myself.

I guess I was in a way still hiding from the consequences that I know might come. The fears that remain - of being ostracised, of losing what I have, of facing anger and disappointing others, of being misunderstood, of being unloved, of being alone. The fears all muddled up and combining into something that comes across as so much more than the sum of its parts.

But as I take time to be alone and dissect that dirty, black mass of coagulated and pulsing fear, as I break them into parts and stare at them directly, their powers dissipate. WTF. They are just stick men wrapped in smoke. Most of the fears are unjustified, demons made of paper rustling in the wind, and for those that remain real, I know I have to walk through them, I know I will not stay fallen should I fall, and I know I will be a better and stronger person when I do.

So there. I’m no longer putting the things that need to be said and done aside, I will no longer ignore the things that truly matter. I will not allow others to place their hopes, happiness and dreams on me without my permission, and I will not let their expectations and requirements define me and determine how I live the remaining years of my life.

It’s heavy I know, but damn, the clarity is fucking beautiful.

The Invisible Miracle

We’re surrounded by miracles - we live in an age of miracles. We can fly. We can talk to someone at the other side of the world. We can give. We are connected to the world in our hands. But that’s the thing with miracles - when they’re are all around us, we cease to see them as what they are. We want something we don’t already have. We want something more. And we forget, we ignore, what we already have around us. Maybe that’s the human condition - to never be satisfied, to never admit that what we have is more than enough. That we have been given this one life, and we should cherish and make the best out of it for ourselves and others who are sharing this life, this time and this world with us. To leave something that matters, that makes things better for those who will live their lives temporarily now and in the future, as we do. We become obsessed with giving our time and our lives to the concept and idea that the next life after this, which we tell ourselves exists and will be so much better, without any precedence or proof, and we forget the gift that is this life. And some of us will hurt others for this concept and this idea, and deprive them of the life given to them. Because what we think is just for ourselves, our faith, for an afterlife that we believe would be paradise, and that somehow makes it ok to make this life hell for others who don’t do, believe and live as we do. To me, that is the greatest tragedy of all of humanity. That we keep seeing what we don’t have, rather than what we already have, in abundance. We wilfully forget and ignore, the gift right in front of our eyes. May we all choose to live our lives, in recognition and appreciation, of what we already have.

#life

The Politics of Our Fears

I think whenever someone tells you something you should do, or tells you not to do something, it’s because they are unable to handle their own personal fears, and what they do instead is to impose their fears on others instead.

Fear, like misery, loves company. Doing so won’t address their own fears, but will allow them to feel better that they are not alone. As in if you do the same as I do, if you fear the same as I do, I will be less lonely. My fears are going nowhere, but it has another friend now.

So when someone screams you cannot be gay, it is their own fear that they could be gay.

If someone points out to you that you will go to hell if you don’t cover this or stop doing that, it is their own fear of going to hell talking.

If someone tells you what you are missing out by not being married or having kids, it’s their fear of missing out of what you have because you’re single and don’t have kids.

If someone tells you that you should not even try, it’s their own fear of failing if they tried.

And seeing you miserable with your choices, because it makes them feel better about themselves for their own choices.

The older I get, the clearer this is. We all fear-monger. Some just do it more than others. The more personal fears they have, the more epic will be their mongering.

So next time someone does that, try asking them “what is it that you fear?”

Sorry man, I ain’t go time to live based on other people’s fears - I have enough of my own and I would rather spend my time learning to overcome my fears myself.

And not impose them on someone else, thank you very much. 😎

Curiosity. Feed me.

One of the things that I believe has allowed me to do the things I’ve done, is that for me there is always something I can learn from others, regardless of their age, sex, background, beliefs, colour or nationality. I can learn from someone much younger, just the same as I can learn from someone much older. The only difference is what I learn. And if they think they can learn from me too, not because I’m smarter or better, but simply because of what I’ve gone through and experienced is different, I’m more than happy to share because good things go both ways.

Verbalizing my thoughts and listening to different views almost always sharpen them, and hearing my own words either makes me understand my own views better, or it makes me realize damn, I’m actually mistaken.

One thing I’ve realized, very clearly, is that the physical age of the other party has next to no impact on what I can learn from them. It’s their mindset first and foremost. Are they kind? Are they open minded? Are they quick to judge? Are they insecure? Are they haunted by the ghosts of their past? Are they generally a good person or an asshole?

Even with assholes, there is something to learn - most useful of all is how not to be one, and how to stay calm in their presence.

There are always things others know and understand differently and more than us, simply because each one of us have different experiences in our lives. No two lives are the same, and therefore no two experiences and thoughts can ever be the same.

I can never be a millennial, but I can learn from them. I can never be a husband who married at 25 and who has 3 kids now, but I can learn from them. I can never be a woman or a single mother, but I can learn from them. I can never be a grandfather who worked his fingers to the bone so that his grandkids now have what he never had before, but I can learn from them. I’m not a Muslim, Christian, Buddhist or Hindu, but I can learn from them.

If each of us is a book that is still being written, then the entire planet is one humongous library of books. It would be a damn shame to only read a few, or ours and ours alone.

The Rules of Engagement

I realize one of the reasons I have been doing things differently is that I started to define the rules of engagement differently since I left being employed full time, heartbroken without any concrete plans. I followed what my heart told me, I found the courage to share things I believed in with myself and others, and I stood my ground as I was judged, by my peers, by strangers, by friends.

Looking back, I could have been more subtle, kinder, but when you’re dealing with your own demons to conform and not disappoint others who don’t see what you do, the only thing I could do was react is self-preservation and arrogance. I was much more opinionated back then, and I still am in a lot of ways (but I try my best to tamper it with listening more and telling myself “Hey James, you could be wrong so shut the fuck up and listen” as much as I can, and say sorry without reservation when I am wrong).

This path I take is both joyous and understandably melancholic sometimes, because sometimes I feel joy that I can’t share, and it gets just a tad lonely when I can’t. I see things I’m no longer a part of willingly, and I’m doing things that others can’t see too, except for a select few, at home and spread out across.

And I know the only thing I can do, to keep others at ease, is to keep my thoughts and experiences to myself. As a consequence I find myself keeping to myself more and more, knowing that I am not alone because I am loved in a lot of ways, and yet time alone has become necessary therapy for me. To think, to write, to feel, to absorb, to see. Usually over a cigarette , a cup of coffee or a beer.

The times I was an asshole never leaves me, when my pride and ego took centerstage, and it guides me. It’s a reference point for myself to see how much better I can be as a person.

Being decent is often seen as letting others step on you. But if that’s the case, it just means we’re surrounding ourselves not with others who are decent, but those who need to step on you to make themselves feel better. We’re surrounding ourselves with the toxic, and people with large-ass holes in their hearts - walking, breathing shells full of hidden hate, hurt, anger and pain that they cannot overcome themselves.

I don’t want to be in a place where being a decent human being is seen as a weakness or betrayal, and I don’t want to be made to feel dumb for being kind.

I may not know exactly what I want still, but I know without a doubt what I don’t. It’s a simple process of elimination, and it’s becoming much easier to eliminate, and to be eliminated. And this scares and excites me at the same time, that I’m seeing things much clearer than before, and that I’m willing to walk away without fear or regret.

I guess it means I’m growing up still. I hope I never stop doing so.

Stop. Listen

When we stop listening to others and we listen just to ourselves, when we stop seeing from other perspectives and we just see from ours, and when we stop thinking for others and we just think for ourselves - regardless of age, gender, beliefs, colour, background or nationality - we stop learning, we stop growing and we start dying, even as we keep on breathing.

The saddest part of all, is that it’s a path chosen by our fears, our pride and our ego, and not our hearts and minds. And we willingly allow them to kill us, slowly but surely.

Not Pressing Repeat

Why things happen the way they do, sometimes.

The same thing will keep happening until we learn the lesson it's meant to teach us. I'm glad I'm still learning. This is more about myself than anyone else.

I am at ease with myself, but I'm not completely at ease with the effect that I might have on others by being myself yet. And a lot of that is because I don't want to hurt people who care for me and that I care for, to the point I compromise who I am and that eats me up slowly inside. That includes hurting them by not living up to their expectations or doing what they want me to do, and who they want me to be for them. I have to accept I can't change what they expect, and if they expect more than I have already shared honestly and they get hurt because I can't change for them, I have to let them hurt. It's the only way they can grow, and for me to be at peace and happy.

Between knowing it and doing what I must is a long journey, but I'm starting to see the finish point now. I don't want to take shortcuts by running away, complaining and blaming. I know it's me, and I let it happen because of my fear of hurting the ones I love and who love me, by being true to myself.

It goes back to my childhood I think, when I saw how my Dad hurt my mom, who loved him, and I told myself I will never do that. But he hurt her intentionally through lies, deception, not caring and arrogance.

I see that difference now, and I am not him.

Want and Have.

What we want may not necessarily be what we will get. What we will get is never certain. The only thing that is certain, is what we have been given.

And it’s what we choose to do with what we have been given, that defines us.

Before home

One more day before home, and as much as a paradise this island of a thousand puras can be, I’m looking forward to heading home and hitting the ground running on all the things I want to get done this year.

All the signs around me tell me that this is the year of fundamental shifts and changes. Of taking things to the next level. Of letting go. Of starting anew. Of being. Of realisation and actualisation. Less talking and more doing. Less social media and being more present. Less f**ks given to what don’t matter, and more f**ks given to the things and people that really do.

To accept and learn to love more that which I cannot change, and to lovingly change that which I can, especially myself.

To do more for others, as even though I may not have all that I want still, I already have much more than I need. Most of us having the luxury of smartphones, broadband, Netflix, air-conditioning, a roof over our heads and the ability to choose what we would like to have for our next meal already do. We just forget sometimes because we are told almost every single moment in our lives, through advertisements, through Instagram, on Facebook, on TV and in magazines etc that we don’t. And because we believe the bullsh*t, we tell others they don’t too. That they’re not pretty enough, they’re not good enough, they’re not thin enough, they’re not rich enough, they’re not fashionable enough etc, when in fact those are simply our own fears. Fears that come from believing the bullsh*t, fears we chose to live with.

Yeah this sounds like a bunch of new age mumbo jumbo crap, but the fact that I can sit here and put my thoughts down is a gift. To wake up this morning with what I have (not just the material things) already blows my mind how fortunate I am. Nope, I’m not religious, I’m not vegan, I’m not vegetarian, I don’t do yoga, I don’t say namaste in place of “hey, how you doing?” and I don’t think hell is a place we head to after we die if we don’t believe. #babiguling #bacon and #eggssunnysideup rock my world still, and I think hell is a place we make for ourselves and for others before we die, if we choose to do so.

Alright. Just finished a Bintang writing this. Should I order another? Hell yeah.

Permissi mbak, Bintang satu lagi terima kasih! :D Bali, Jan 2018

Something. Not everything.

One thing that kinda takes people by surprise and sometimes pisses them off, is that when I am told “it can’t be helped” or “this is how it is, and we can’t do anything about it”, I think it can be helped, and we can at least do something about it. Not everything, but something.

The difference I think is because we tend to think in all or nothing, and micro-improvements and smaller steps are therefore not worth the time nor effort. If we’re gonna work on something, we want it to give us 100% of the results we want. And if it won’t, we won’t. The idea of requiring an immediate and consistent ROI or nothing. The idea of guarantees that we won’t be wasting our effort and time in failing in order to find ways to make something work. That there is little or no value in trying and learning one more way how something won’t work so we can eventually find what does. We want immediate wins or else there is no point, and our efforts become limited to complaining, criticizing and making excuses.

Which to me is really strange and silly, and severely limits our potential and the possibilities in all that we do. Babies never asked for guarantees when they’re trying to walk. Kids never asked for guarantees when they play. They just do. But slowly and surely, as we grow up, we start asking, we start comparing, we start expecting and we start seeking guarantees even as we know deep inside that there can be no such thing.

So the next time someone says “grow up”, ask them - do they mean to grow as a person, or to grow old as a person?

They are very different things.

Siem Reap, Nov 2017

Salt

#storiesfromsiemreap

The town is cooling down.

I can feel it in the air. This is the small window of time before the crowd comes again, when the rain stops and the temperature drops. The closest it would get to an Asian winter. The sun remains relentless, but softer, slightly more gentle. There are fewer who pass through at this time of the year, over cups of coffee, or lost in their thoughts as their laundry tumble in the machines washing the dust, sweat and dirt away. Some are in love, some wear a weariness in their faces that speaks through their silence as the music plays softly in the background. Some just escaping the heat after a day in the sun before they get cleaned up and head out to the stalls, restaurants and bars to welcome the night.

Moments play out in front of me between strangers who were divided before this moment by thousands of miles, different times and different lives, connected for a brief moment here through a desire to see what was majestically built by the hands of men centuries ago, slowly and unavoidably fading away.

Perhaps what draws all of us here is not only a sense of wonder, but also a quieter sense of loss that we know would be inevitable in time. A silent acceptance that we too shall pass, same as the kings and queens who once ruled this land, leaving their massive, crumbling temples as their legacy. That the only thing we have is this moment, a mote of dust drfiting briefly in the sun light, swept along in the unending ocean of time. That it is up to us to find our place, our meaning, our purpose and what makes our hearts sing. To take the chances that we have been given, that may never come again.

I witnessed instances of serendipity between strangers who stepped into this town over the last few days, with none seized. I see how uncertainty and fear repeatedly won, and the safety of not reaching out and risking embarrassment, hurt and disappointment overwhelmed the heart. The rational risk-averse logical mind telling the heart to not hope and to not consider the possibilities that have been offered. That tinge and shadow of unspoken regret that will surely follow as they head elsewhere and eventually home. The “what if” that will never truly leave their minds, the stories and chapters that could have been but will not be written now.

The heart wants what it wants. But most times, the heart would rather feel safe with what it doesn’t really want, but have gotten used to.

I watch silently through the clouds over my coffee, and the cigarette smoke exhaled from my battered lungs as I take my breaks and pause. The place where so much is shown, with so little spoken.

“Where were you?

You taste like salt

I remember the time we first said hi

And when we rode on the first bus out of here

And we both drank cheaper beer

Now we're too pampered to see

Now we're too pampered to say

Do you wanna run?

Do you wanna ride?

And I'll be waiting for you tonight

And I'll be waiting in fading light”

- Fether, “Truly Yours”

31 October 2017

The Moment

#anunexpectedmomentofclarity

This morning as I was putting down some ideas and notes, I realized something. It’s pretty amazing that after all this time, I’m still discovering and learning new things, and (hopefully) new ways to be less of an asshole. Especially when by comparison to many, I’m privileged as f*ck.

If we are the best piece of equipment we will ever own - our minds, our bodies, our heart, our personalities and our relationships - we should always look after it and improve it the best we can. After all, it has a finite lifespan.

I would like to believe that I can be a better man than 10 years ago, than a year ago or a month ago, and I hope I will be.

It's been a long day, and it feels like I'm digging myself slowly through an avalanche. It's cold, the ice on my fingers bites, the warmth of the sun seems just out of reach, and there are boulders in the way. I see the destination, but that doesn't make it any less exhausting. But heck, this is what I chose. This is what I do. Ain't nothing special and worth doing is easy. I seem to be constantly at wild. Breathe.

Do the Walter Mitty

I forgot about this. But yeah.

I've been keeping for the past 2 years progressively more and more to myself. I haven't met up with friends and people as much as I used to, I spend more time working on things, reading and planning rather than nights over wine and in bars and parties. I have lost touch with friends who remain in my heart and mind, even as I don't see their faces and enjoy the laughter and smiles in their company.

Sometimes I ask myself why. But I know it's a choice I made, it's me and no one else. Why do I want to do so much with the time that I have, why am I still glued to my computer and keyboard on weekends?

Maybe it's because there's so much I want to learn and get done, and there is really so little time. Maybe it's because it gives me joy when I create something that gives, and sometimes it's hard to share this joy. Maybe the path I find myself on doesn't make sense to most.

Maybe this is a journey into the wilderness can only be taken running with the Wilderpeople, especially when the Walter Mitty moments call out and drown out everything else.

Whatever the reason, the balance will always be elusive. And grasping for it keeps my mind and my heart on their toes, ready to do what I've never done before.

OK, let's do this, James. Let's launch ZafigoX, the first Asian Conference on Women Empowerment & Travel, and make it the best experience for everyone that you can. Make it better, make it more, and make it something we haven't seen before.

The Missing Socks is in good hands, and OLFAC3 has started to make waves.

Then, after it's done, we do the Walter Mitty for a bit til the next. :)

KEEPING BUSY

Published on September 12, 2016 on LinkedIn

"You're always busy, James!"

"Haha, yes. I'm a sucker for punishment!" is my usual response.

But it's punishment I gladly inflict on myself, because it isn't really punishment when you actually look forward to it, crave it even. I keep myself busy simply because there is so much I want to learn, to do, to experience and to see happen. And I know there is only so much time that I can still do it.

A friend recently tried to explain to his girlfriend what I do, and he said I'm like a "midwife" for businesses - I launch and deliver new products and services for clients that hire me to do what needs to be done.

I thought wow, that's a pretty good description, but then I replied "Actually...I'm more like a surrogate mom than a midwife :D "

I help conceive the baby, carry and look after it, give birth to it and I hand the baby back to the real parents. That's why a part of me will alway care for the people I worked with (we made this!), the product we built together and made real, and I always want the best for it, even when I'm no longer looking after it.

I've been reading on the concept of MTP - the Massive Transformative Purpose that drives the best of businesses to stand out, out-perform, out-deliver and solve big human problems. People come first, solving problems is the goal, and profits are always the result, not the purpose.

I think each of us have that same thing inside us too; it's a matter of listening to the murmurs of our hearts when we are in a place of silence by ourselves, not hijacked nor swayed by our fear of what others think, when we are clothed yet naked to ourselves.

And the more I listen, the more it speaks. It's a beautiful lament for what we could be, yet uplifting in that it makes us see what was lost, but at the same time, what can still be. We cannot see one without seeing the other, for both makes us whole.

Man, this flat white is pretty awesome. I'm caffeine stoked. :D

Retaliation and the infinite loop

One of the most difficult challenges to overcome for me was the thrill of instant gratification by being rude to someone who is rude to me, and to give them back the same treatment I received so they could feel what I do, and get what they give. To retaliate and feed the infinite loop. #Ouroboros into da house yo!

I mean, don’t they realise what they are saying, how they are treating others, and what assholes they are? Don’t they think of the consequences of their words and actions? Don’t they think beyond themselves?

And the truth I’ve come to realise is, they don’t. Most of us don’t.

We have different backgrounds, we are brought up differently, we are taught differently, and our exposure, knowledge and experience are different. We live in a bubble of nature and nurture, and we are slaves to the rhythm and the beat created for us and we create for ourselves.

So why do I insist others should feel the way I do, see the way I do and do what I would have done, when who we are today came about so differently, and we continue to evolve (at least some of us anyway) every day? That would be so bloody presumptuous and self-servingly arrogant of me wouldn’t it, to expect others to be like me, and in that same thought process, imply that I am a better person and they NEED to be more like me?

That’s absolutely rubbish. Just because someone lacks decency, lacks good manners or is uncouth, there is no reason for me to be the same. Just because someone condescends and acts all superior, doesn’t mean it becomes my mission to take them down as hard as I can. Just because someone acts like a dick, it doesn’t mean I have to be one. Why allow myself to be drawn into their insecurities, their fears, their hate and their self-inflicted pain? Why would I want to let my state of heart and mind to be controlled and dictated by others and circumstances beyond my control? And it boils down to what is often quoted but so damn hard to practice sometimes – “The problem is not the problem, the problem is how WE DEAL with the problem” Especially when we have no control over the problem, the circumstances or the person. The only thing we truly have control over, are ourselves. So yeah, take control. Sir yes sir!

Skinny jeans: Between freedom and oppression

I was asked about this recently and I thought I’d share.

I have a pair of skinny jeans.

Freedom is when I can choose to wear skinny jeans whenever I like.

Discrimination is when people treat me differently just because I wear skinny jeans.

Peer pressure is when my friends and people around me think I’m a loser and not good enough unless I wear skinny jeans.

Condescension is when people laugh and tell me I look stupid in skinny jeans and I shouldn’t be wearing them.

Hypocrisy is when the same people who laugh at me are wearing skinny jeans.

Oppression is when I am forced to wear skinny jeans all the time, or else I will be fined, punished or sent to jail.

Religious oppression is when religious people in skinny jeans tell me I will go to hell for not wearing skinny jeans and I must be punished for insulting religion.

So skinny jeans can be a sign of personal choice, peer pressure or oppression, depending on why I’m wearing them in the first place. It doesn’t automatically mean I’m being oppressed when I wear skinny jeans because some countries in the world force people to wear skinny jeans, punish them and justify violence against those who don’t.

Sometimes, we just like to wear skinny jeans.

Skinny jeans are not the enemy. Discrimination, peer pressure and oppression are.

Same thing with headscarves worn by Muslim women.

#skinnyjeans

The Burkini and the Bikini

I believe every woman has the right to dress as she pleases - covered or uncovered.

So a woman has the same right to wear a Burkini, as she has to wear a bikini.

That is my belief and opinion. And the same goes with men. There are cultural norms to take into account of course, and when we are in another country or culture, we need to respect that culture and it would be wrong for us to impose our own unto them.

Therefore when in Saudi, cover up. When we visit a mosque, church or temple, cover up. It's respect.

But what I find strange is this.

The uproar over France imposing a ban on the Burkini is met with equal deafening silence of no reference at all of countries that impose a ban on women NOT covering up.

Why are some of us so loud and angry at France insisting that women cannot wear a Burkini to the beach or risk getting fined, and the same people are silent on Middle Eastern countries that insist that women must cover up from head to toe, where the punishment is much more severe?

If we are outraged and say women should have the right to wear a Burkini in France, why aren't we outraged and saying that women should have the right not to wear the Burqa in some Middle East countries?

If we say we must respect Saudi culture and laws that do not allow women to drive and Iranian laws that state women cannot watch a sports event in the Stadium, because it is their country, why aren't we saying that we must respect French culture and laws the same, because it is their country?

If some argue that banning the hijab or Burkini is an attack on a woman's religion and personal rights, why is insisting what women should wear or not wear in other countries (including Malaysia) not considered an attack on their personal beliefs and rights?

How is it that we insist that women should have the right to wear what she wants, but only selectively? Only when it suits and fits our personal beliefs and agenda?

I'm curious about this selective condemnation. Am I wrong?

Personally, I think this ban directly infringes on a woman's fundamental right to wear as she pleases, and is no different from countries that forces women to wear legally and religiously sanctioned clothes. The only difference is in the degree of punishment.

http://www.nytimes.com/2016/08/23/world/europe/france-veil-burkini-hijab.html?_r=0

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