my Death Sentence

so i must have had all these thoughts of the Death Penalty in my head because i spent one night living out the moments before my death.

i was sentenced to death and i had spent a day freely with my mum who was naturally grief-stricken. i consoled her and explained the tenets of our faith where Death is concerned. of course that can't take the pain of losing her daughter away but it did soothe her to a point of acceptance and possibly, even belief of my destination in Heaven.

the day is at hand and i make my way in thick chains to the gallows. there is fear but it is so deeply set within that it won't surface. i am taking much care to keep it there. and basking in the calm acceptance and peace that permeate my entire being.

it is dark but i am aglow with an inner light. everyone is either jeering at me or looking with pity. i want neither. i feel like a hero not because i am going to die a matyr but simply because i choose to do the right thing and can then meet God in a while.

suddenly, a door opens and in come my parents.

"What!" the alarm bells ring in my head. "NO!"

my mum comes in and she can barely stand up. someone has to help her in. next comes my dad who is a pale shadow of the man he is. he is ghastly white and just trudging along.

i feel the first stirrings of desperation. this is ridiculous. i don't want my parents to be here! they will not be able to survive watching their child be put to death!

no, i cannot die. i have to get out of these fucking chains. a part of me is fighting to restore the calm i felt just a while ago. i am reaching hard for that holiness but i cannot grasp it. i am sinking fast into the suffocating depths of desperation.

no. i am not fighting anymore. i just want to break free.

i look around me. can i punch the living daylights out of the guard who's holding onto me? i can take his gun and hold him hostage. i can ransom my way out! but where can i go? can i make my parents fugitives? i can't...

so i have to die. but that will break their hearts. i catch a glimpse of how their lives will be like from then on. they will slowly be engulfed by the sorrow of my death and never recover. they will sink into depression and oblivion of what goes on around them. for the next two to three decades, that is how their lives will be.

i am fully frightened now. what can i do? what should i do? like an animal that's caught and sensing imminent death, i am looking for a way out but cannot see any. i don't mind dying but i cannot put my parents through that!!! HELP ME!

*****

i don't know the ending to that story because i awoke. and thank god i did. it wasn't my life that would be snatched away. it was my parents'. how can i do that to them? what choice did i really have?

i felt immense relief that it was a dream but i returned to sleep with a twinge of deep sorrow at that person in my dream who had no choice but to be cornered no matter which way she turns.

Caleb Van

my job required me to attend Caleb Van's funeral mass a couple of months ago in 2005. he was 25 and i was 26. it was not the first funeral mass i attended and i am sure it won't be the last.

he was a Cambodian, arrested in Singapore 2-3 years ago while he was on transit. he had held drugs that he planned to traffick for his twin brother. in the course of his time in prison, he found God, was baptised, and went on to meet God way ahead of his time when his fate was sealed with the Death Penalty.

i had refrained from reading the generously distributed articles about him from various sources of both secular newspapers and Catholic ones. reason being that i felt strongly that there was too much political debate surrounding his case, none of which were really concerned about his situation.

so it was that i had to cover this story out of sheer coincidence and off i went to Marymount Convent Chapel, armed with my notepad, a camera that i did not plan to use for i was not about to aggravate the grieving family and friends just to get a story, and a baggage of fear and trepidation.

i don't take well to Death, despite my having come face to face with God's assurance many times. there is still a fear that i might fall over the edge in my bid to grasp this unfathomable concept of what-happens-after?

to say that the Funeral Mass was sorrowful is to put it mildly. i arrived at a scene where reporters and camera crew were not allowed to enter the gates of the Convent. there were australians (i presume they were Van's friends or fellow countrymen) waiting by the gates to greet him when his casket arrives. i hesitated, knowing that it will be great if i can get some comments from them but which my conscience prevents me from pursuing. well, i don't think the good angel won the bad one. more likely, my Devil Survival Instinct took over and i didn't approach any of them because i didn't want to be embroiled in a situation where i have to listen to angry lamentations or embittered emotions that i have no way of putting right.

i trudged my way up to the gate and explained where i came from. naturally, my paper is sympathetic to Van's plight and they quietly acknowledged that as they admitted me and kindly pointed out where i should head.

that in itself, was humbling. i had come on a job and the guardians of that gate had extended their hand to me. in that one gesture, i was bonded in unity with the rest of my Catholic family, those whom i know and those whom i know not of their existence.

i stepped into such an emotionally-charged atmosphere that i instantly felt like breaking into tears. there was so much grief. above all, there was so much solidarity in the people who knew him personally and those who knew him only from the many reports in the news, but who all had come to stand in support for his family and to bid him a final farewell.

his mum arrived hugging her stomach as she prepared to say another goodbye. to leave the memories of when she cradled him in her arms as he was born, the memories of his first crawl, first word, first walk, first fall... their first fight, first tears... so many firsts that she had to let go of in the same way that she let go of him.

does that remind you of anyone else?

Father Paul Pang did remind her and the congregation that Mary would understand, having stood at the foot of the cross and watched her son's life snuffed out... and for what? for a whole world of sinners that was and is to come. little sense that made and much pain it caused. who, other than her, would be able to understand that piercing sorrow?

i cried many tears throughout the mass. every kind word that was uttered was like a soft tissue being tenderly rubbed against an open wound. yes, it was a caress but painful nevertheless. every song that was sung just brought a giant lump into my throat that i had to ease by letting the tears flow.

Caleb Van's favourite song is "Better Man" by Robbie Williams. the significance was not lost on me and i hope, on others as well. as the words echoed through the hall, "send someone to love me, i need to rest in arms... Lord, i'm doing all i can to be a better man..." the sobs came heavy. yes Lord, your servant had done all he could to be a better man. he did not resist the Death Penalty in the end. rather, he embraced it as a just punishment and he walked to the gallows as you did to your cross, with surrender to the Father's will and with the glowing face of a man who knows he is soon to receive his reward just by being with your Father.

as i made my way to bid him farewell and i saw him lying there in the coffin, it hit me that this man was one year younger than me. a handsome, young man whose life isn't to be anymore. if i were in his position, would i have done the same? most of all, i knew, with twinges of regret for him, that he never had the opportunities i have in my life and he never will have them ever again.

so goodbye, Brother Caleb... i hope to see you sometime in our Father's house. and then, we can spend part of eternity sharing our life stories and you can tell me all about your life that i never got to know about.

to hell with politicians. to hell with them using your life as a means for them to attain their personal ambitions. to hell with the endless debates on the Death Penalty that stemmed from selfish desires to pit one government against another.

but thank you for giving us this story to share with others, for bringing to light the debate on the Death Penalty that Catholics will begin to arrive at a just stand.

Father Paul said that it is a mystery of our faith that we can mourn and rejoice at the same time. we mourn in the flesh at our brother's departure and we rejoice that he has gone home. indeed, indeed.

i left that funeral mass with swollen eyes and a throbbing head, with unresolved questions and more that had arisen. at the same time, i left with a feeling that the world is as it should be, that there can be beauty amidst ugliness and light radiating through the shadows.

and i thank God that i felt as much as i did. and i prayed that never will a day come when i attend a funeral mass and come out with dry eyes and an unfeeling heart.

Forever Young

i am 27 this year and i remember when i went to Madam Wong's just last year and how that made me one of the oldest in the crowd there. for a female, i was definitely over the average age that makes you still eligible and desirable! nevertheless, it was a night of giving onself up to drink and dance - temporal freedom.

being older does have its advantages. i feel more liberated these days to fully enjoy myself without surrendering myself to the insecurity that used to hold me back from letting myself go.

and when the song 'Forever Young' came on, it was the older ones who sang it with more abandonment. the young ones enjoyed the song, probably as a celebration of their youth while the older ones really gave voice to the song that arose from deep within. it wasn't sung with regret but 'Forever Young' here connotes something different for us. we want to be forever youthful and we will be that. we can't celebrate youth anymore. neither can we claim to be young. and this is what spurs us on to sing.

because we choose to live forever-young.

but just the other day, a colleague played that song in the office. and he looked downright depressed. he is 33 and he thinks that he is old. he mourns his age daily. he actually looks much younger than his age but constantly bemoans both the facts that he looks younger and that he is old. he prefers not to be thought of as so young and at the same time, gets himself all depressed over all of his 33 years of life.

and he played the song 'Forever Young' and simply sat there, staring into space. then he turned around to sigh to me, "I'm 33..."

it's the same song.

i guess it's a matter of the glass being half-full to me and half-empty to him.

a fork in the road

when i was a catechumen, all i cared about was to find out where God is in my life. i had to learn how to do His will because i like to do my own but i sometimes get confused as to what exactly should be the next step to take in life's troubling decisions that had to be made. i was terribly sheltered but even as the journey progressed and i caught glimpses of the uglier side of politics in Church, they mattered little to me. my heart was set on God and to do the right thing. if i knew what that was!

my lenten retreat was a good one. i had felt the calling to be a sponsor for a while but it only managed to break free of my fears and grew full-fledged at the retreat when i encountered Jesus in my ponderings. still, there was a part of me that kept me from saying 'yes'. a sponsor on that journey said on one of the nights when we were in the pantry sipping hot milo. i remember thinking, "this retreat is full of abstinence. no sleep, no food..." i was tired and hungry, trying to complete the reflection that we were told to jot down in our journal. this sponsor said that he was sure i would return as a sponsor the next year. i felt like God was deliberately and playfully teasing me, since He already knew what i was pondering. my immediate response was "No!"

on the third day, we returned to Church... by then, i was sure i would say 'yes' so i tried to look for Tony as i wanted to find out more about it. i hardly knew him then. except that he was our co-ordinator and that he was always involved and probably personally cared since he does cry with us from time to time!

i couldn't find a chance to talk to him. i left Church thinking, maybe this isn't meant to be.

across the road, my boyfriend called to say he got the family car and that he was coming to pick me up. so i jaywalked my way across the two busy roads and made my way back to Church. i don't know why i preferred to wait in Church. probably it is a place of comfort and solace. i was physically exhausted but had all these thoughts of discipleship in my head.

on my way in, i ran into Tony on his way out. we stopped to say hello and he apologised for crying at the retreat. (shhh....) i said something to the effect of how he crying made us cry too. and before i knew it, i said, "Tony, i want to be a sponsor next year". my exact words.

if the time had not elapsed for me to walk across Church and head back in, i might not have run into him. i probably would have gone back wondering if i should still pursue being a sponsor. most likely, i would think i shouldn't. from then till the next journey, i had many doubts. i wanted to pull out, especially after realising how difficult a period Lent can be. but i didn't want to go back on my word. even then, i knew, God paved the way for me not to back out.

on my second journey, i grew a hundred times more. i learnt Humility, above everything else. i learnt how i can try so hard to convince the catechumens that baptism is the way to go and they will not change their minds. but when God calls, they respond the very minute. HUMILITY. it isn't what we do. sometimes, it isn't even how much we do. we just do out best and God will take care of the rest.

i saw more ugly sides to ministerial work. but i believed with all my heart and soul in the RCIA. and all i wanted was to serve, to give something back to God in gratitude of the immense love and peace he gave me.

things happened along the course of the journey. very difficult twists and turns. i hurt people and i got hurt in return. i made friends when i didn't expect to and i lost friends that i would have loved to cherish for life. the joys i experienced gave me glimpses of what Heaven must be like. the pits i fell into showed me glimpses of what Hell must be like too. in my young life, heartbreak from broken relationships and forced farewells from deaths are the two most painful experiences i have encountered. but in the lowest of my times on the journey, it surpassed all that in DESPAIR. i think i understand what Hell is, when you are separated from God. it isn't the same as when you haven't found God. at least then, ignorance is bliss. but having been with God and then unable to reach Him gives you a deep despair that it cuts right through your gut every minute, every breath, ever waking moment.

but i survived with more friends eventually. a new found family. deeper bonds... new perspective. a little bruised, a little more fragile... all of which makes me that little bit more humbled.

i started my third journey trying to make up for the mistakes made from the previous. trying to give more to repay the love that has been given to me. wanting to give more for the undeserved forgiveness i received from so many and from God.

these days, i seem to have lost faith in RCIA. did i make too many friends and forget the one i should treasure above all? did i allow human inspirations to overshadow the light from God? do i work to serve God or because it is work i had said i will do? if the journey adopts a different method, will i still be faithful to what the RCIA stands for? if my friends are not on this journey, will i be here? i feel slightly disillusioned. a lot of disappointment with the way people are, including myself. is this a little obstacle in my path or have i steered the wrong course? did i lose sight of why i loved the RCIA? without the RCIA, will we be friends? will we care enough to care?

i seem to have come full circle. back to my catechumenate days when i was afraid to let go.

Lord, help me to do your will. Help me to let go of damaging relationships, painful as they may be. Help me to serve you... remember your presence in my life. Not anyone else's.

hell, i will not take

a shared vision
lost
a complete picture
fragmented
where is the truth i believed in
where is the light that didn't extinguish
have the flames been doused
or the dream forgotten

a silent cry to God
unheard
a stifled scream
unnoticed
where has the bubbling joy within gone
where is the endless pool of fire
has winter stolen the sunshine in my heart
or darkness crept its way in quietly

a much desired kindness
a welcome reprieve
engaged me in a long-drawn out game of hide-and-seek
eluding me and escaping my grasp
where is my anchor now?

has it started -
the hell that descends this time of year
or is heaven just around the corner
and strength i have not to turn that bend

but till i see heaven's glory appear before my eyes again
hell, i will not take
though its briberies are many and rich
for i know heaven's gates are
just one more step, just one more wall
away
bring them on then for i will take them down
one by one

empath, not necessarily empathetic

like to clear up a simple technicality. an empath does not necessarily mean that one is naturally empathetic as well.
an empath is merely someone who's able to feel a lot, to be able to completely understand what someone else is feeling in a particular situation.

i don't boast to know for sure that i am an empath. i just like the term, the word, the wiccan image.
and for sure, i FEEL way too much. but it was something i asked for.

long, long time ago, back when i was a kid, i used to think that i wouldn't want to end up like the adults - whom i saw as being too cynical and too sensible, too rational and too logical. i wanted to FEEL. i wanted to base my decisions on what i FEEL for. i wanted to follow my heart. to lose the unnecessary 'better' options so that i can experience the wonderful world filled with the array of colourful emotions. i'll take them all! i said. i wanted to always be able to feel the pain so that i can feel ultimate joy too.

well, at least i knew i was a smart kid.

so i asked God, though not knowing who He actually is then, to always let me FEEL. i have never stopped since.

as for empathy... well, i seem to have adopted selective-empathy these days. it's not that difficult to imagine why, when i am also able to feel the self-pity and pride that reside in the other.

i'm not proud of myself. it's just the way it is.

i was at work yesterday and wondering where my compassion has gone to when God sneaked a little voice into my head. He said, "What you did to the least of your brothers, you did it to me." Shucks.

i guess collecting a ticket to heaven with my name engraved on it isn't such a certainty anymore. i had better buck up on my level of empathy. after all, do not expect me to give up on revelling in complete bliss, joy and the high moments in life. not anyimte soon. not when i can get a taste of heaven from them.

so bring on whatever emotions may rack my being. i'll take them one by one, chew them up bit by bit and spit them out! i'm holding on to my "birthright" to being an empath. whatever it takes.

An Initiation into my Realm

welcome to my personal heaven and hell.

a place where you'll receive compassion, comfort and a companion to cry with. except that half the time, you ARE the compassionate comforter and companion who's crying away too.

here, emotions will flow freely. there is no absolute state to remain comfortably in.

be prepared to break free of all your restrains. you'll soar to the skies. touch the stars, take one with you. or not. you'll visit soon again anyway and you can pluck another one from the sky the next time.

but get ready for the fall too. you won't be able to claw your way out even if you tried. sometimes, it helps to hold your breath. cos breathing hurts. so stop breathing for a little while then. and suffocate. either way, you'll be getting smothered so you might as well not feel the pain in your chest.

come ride with me.