i wonder whether despair is the right word...it creeps up on you sometimes...she's as faithful to me as my personal demons, sitting on both my shoulders. is it my time to weep, or wring my hands, hurling expletives at the sky? i don't know...
i just know that i'm small, looking out the window, beautiful grass being swayed by the wind...it reminds me of motion, at least...that life does not really stand still...
my eyes look ahead...now i see, a malaysian flag, frolicking in mid-air, protruding from a high-rise window... i think of my nation...how like this picture, suspended in mid-air, our possible futures still to be decided, to be experienced. malay, chinese, indian...how long? before we are truly family... is it history that taught me to cry? perhaps... i've never been hasty...
still we slouch, on our way...with life's troubles, both big and small... of these, we fashion our identities... my nietzschean self whispers:"see your life, as a work of art"...when i am dealt colours, grey and blue...the white, the purple...how to paint it true?... how to sculpture the broken?...your art may not see the light...
i see now, one beautiful coconut tree, its leaves are dancing...in a small little place...from my little room, at the heart of bangsar.
here i remain faithful to the earth...
posted by aPoReTiC @ 5:20 PM
3 comments
3 Comments:
hey dude.... bohtea.blogspot.com there's the stuff!! i hope i'm free to attend. job hunting is... improving...
... how to sculpture the broken?
My friend, I am not a flippant sojourner, neither am I an apathetic transient. I too often have despair sitting on my shoulder, and I often weep for the things I see in our nation.
But as I look up, I see the Potter's hand ... and I am indeed a "work of art" as you say. He fashions eagles who withstand the eye of the storm.
As each tear falls : injustices met just become the daily cross; the despair becomes a darkness to be conquered. Now I understand why we are often called to be soldiers of Christ. But beyond that, He calls us to flap our wings and look like the eagle upon the panoramic view ...
sculpting the broken happens in unlikely places. It happens when a radical dares to stand before His God and shout, "Do something". It happens when he refuses to throw in the towel. It happens when he just something that leaves behind the message, there is hope. It may be a small speck in the panoramic view ... but the sculpting has begun.
Malaysia needs dreamers who would lay down their lives, remain unknown, and live radically in this unjust, broken world, ... declaring with their lives the message of the Wounded Healer.
Have I been preaching? Maybe I needed to hear this for myself. Keep on raging the tempest! It will have to give.
Fellow Traveller Through The Valley of Despond!
Hey! the Cynic has stumbled on the most happening event in town, heheh
wish i could attend too...
http://christseminar.civiblog.org/
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