We are all heros and we are gold inside. That’s what this video said.
Here are a few “take away” from the video:
You need to go into the dark to come out into the light.
Push yourself because your life is the fruit of your own doing.
Most people live in a kind of a hynopsis. If there is no death, there is no life, there will be no transformation. If you want new insights in life, you will learn to keep dying.
Our life is not what happens to us but whatt we do with it so go and explore for yourself and follow your bliss – not being selfish and heinous. Go back and find out what made you different when you were younger, the thing that made you “lost in your own world”
Find a place where there is joy
and the joy will burn out the pain
Do the things that scare you, stop fighting yourself but love yourself and face your fears and overcome them.
We are all guests on this earth. No one knew when we were coming here and definitely no one knows when we are leaving.
This morning, my colleague told me that her husband passed away a day ago. He was only 63 years old. She is barely 50.
It wasn’t a sudden death as such. He has been in “semi” coma for about 6 months now. He never really woke up from his operation.
I’m not sure what it was but years ago when I had an atroscopy on my knee, it was the first time in my life where I had to sign a waiver form to receive a general anesthesia (GA) before the atroscopy. The anesthesiologist wanted to waive off her liability should something happen to me like not waking up?!
Lethal. I remember having that fear.
A few years later, true enough, my late brother never woke up from a series of operations. I suspect it was the GA that killed him ultimately.
Same with my colleague’s husband. He was healthy but went through a series of back/spinal problem, wrist, hip i.e. he went from one operation to another. And he never woken up again.
While medicine prolong our lives, does it shorten our lives too by a “prick” of an injection?
At the end of the day, we are only guests on this earth. We should live well and live without regrets.
It was all over the news last night and this morning. Someone picking mushrooms in the forest came across a bone that could be that of the 9 year girl Peggy K who went missing 15 years ago.
I don’t have a child(ren) of my own. I won’t ever know how it’d feel when your child failed to come home. Years ago, as a child myself, a couple of boys went missing. Never found. Rumours had it that those boys were used as “beam supports” for the highways our government was building. Superstition. Black magic. Still couldn’t comprehend why anyone would do this to a child(ren), why a child(ren) didn’t come home. Over the years, police came up with sketches to show, if the boys are still alive, how they could look like.
When I was a child myself, I had thoughts of running away and never come home. My mother always said she picked me up from the garbage and she used to hit me (not abuse but I got hit for not doing well at school or just because I didn’t help her do household chores or something). I also watched a lot of TVs where e.g. a grown up woman only found out that her own mother gave her away when she was born and the family she grew up with was never her real parents etc. When my mother constantly saying such things like I’m not her child and being strict with me, I wanted to go and find my “real parents”. I told my neighbour children whom I play with. I can’t remember how often I said that but it must be often enough that my neighbours told her mother and her mother told my mother. Well, the good thing was, my mother stopped saying those things to me.
There was another time when I wanted to go away. My grades were OK but I struggled with Science. The modern day parent would have sat me down and go through the books with me but all my mother did was said that she will not sign my test papers the next time I get a bad grade. As a 10 year old child, I didn’t know what to do. I could only study that much on my own. Our school teachers weren’t the nurturing sort. You just go to school, keep your eyes and ears open, scribble as fast as you can while they talk and regurgitate what the teachers said back at tests. Children these days do not know what my generation had endured.
Anyway, my grades didn’t improve at the next test. All I could think of is my mother is going to bash me up and I didn’t want to go home. Imagine if I hadn’t, would I still be around today?
Fast forward back to now, when I heard the news today, my mind was filled with all sorts of questions. Who did it? Why? But I also have a question for her mother: How does she feel now that she “found” her daughter? Over the years, it must have been a torture not knowing if your child is still dead, or she could still be alive. The hope. The expectation. Now if the bone belongs to Peggy, will there be closure?