WARNING: DON'T FALL IN LOVE

A madly in love teenager is predisposed to defiance despite constant reminders. So it takes fervent prayer and sensitivity to counsel a client as this. “Love is stronger than a raging torrent!” elders in my time would always say to anyone who’s head over heels.

If this is a metaphor, then I’d still use it for comparison’s sake – a completely in love teenager and a writer who is too attached to his writing.

The tendency is that, if one is very much in love with his piece (an article for instance), he’s also vulnerable to defiance without being opened to any corrections. I was told once – Don’t fall in love with your own writing.

I took heed to this warning since then, without hesitation. If I didn’t, my life as a writer could have been stagnant - the worst mess could have happened.

For this important reason, I remind myself of this pitfall every so often. If I don’t, then I will not be able to see what others see or understand the perspective of others.

What’s the use of a peer?

Well, I leave it to you to think of the answers. For sure, we’re all aware of the existences of these words “edit” and “editor” in the dictionary – to counteract this defying gravity or to remind us simply the danger of one-sidedness.

No offense, but I do see a lot of writers on cloud nine – deeply, incredibly in love with his/her finished product, unpolished. Sad to say, no matter how I tried to be of help, it’s pointless – they are so defiant – not wanting to learn anything.

When people asked me to edit their write-ups, they wrestled with the idea of polishing. The worst, they are afraid of changes. Actually, I was not trying to change the structure, but I was only suggesting possibilities – from grammar to concept and to creativity.

So it’s like having someone around who is madly in love and so unreceptive to nuggets of wisdom. When I told them to do things differently, the next time they write one, it’s the same old thing. That’s the real challenge!

“What’s the point of coming to me anyway?” I asked in silence.

Some of these in-love-writers are great pretenders. They pretend to seek advice or a piece of idea, but actually not. No matter how much important things you laid down to share, at the end of the day, they’re just clanging cymbals.  It’s really crazy!

Sorry about that, but I give further elaboration no more – I only have one intention to bring – like those who told me once – a warning: Don’t fall in love with your own writing.

NOVEMBER TWENTY-THIRD

 “What’s with the date that it keeps coming in reminding?” I asked, and then asked.

Have thought of relevant occasions just to calm this wondering mind, but all these didn’t ring any bells with me. Then, in one last try – voila – it’s actually my father’s death anniversary.

I’m old, but not that old. And so it has nothing to do with agedness. My forgetfulness on this date is just the opposite of denial or anticipation – I had let go in years, and moved on.

That’s it!

Besides, I don’t really observe death anniversary although I treasure dead loved ones and friends for eternity. Sorry to say, this is just the way I perceive people who’ve gone before us.      

“So what’s this about?”

Have asked that myself as well.

So far, a single reason I could compose is the literal explanation aside from one personal revelation. That this date was unordinary day when the Creator took away the presence of an earthly Abba – to complete my orphan status; to be in total dependence on the Father of the fatherless; and to prune me becoming a grown up person above all.

I struggled to understand though, but life didn’t stop being an orphan. The most hurting scenario year after year was to celebrate Father’s Day. That’s when I had to sigh in pain, and in silent tears seated on the bench while others honor their fathers.

It took faith to believe that I still have the greatest Father. That’s when I understood the finiteness of an earthly ones – they couldn’t be around at all times to protect, to provide, to rescue, to comfort , to guide, and to know the deepest part of me – there’s One and only One -  the Father of the fatherless.    

And pruning was required to see each purpose along the way. It doesn’t take psychological analysis to understand a child’s longing of a father. For even animals I think are subject to that yearning. But it was in this pruning I learned to grow independently in human speaking.

Regarding that personal revelation – no thorough biblical scrutiny involves in fact– it is just an interpretation of my own – a sort of reminder to be grateful about to selfless individuals who were  there in the absence of a biological father.

Thank you very much for your examples!

God takes away, yet God gives more. When my real father was gone, He sent three special people dear to my heart – they fathered me in various ways – an adopted father who provided my financial needs most of the time; a foster father who welcomed me in when I was homeless and hungry; and a spiritual father who admonished me to walk in the likeness of God’s image.

They may have played major differences in my life, but they have got similarities in many ways to be honest – one, they’re all the Master’s servants called to serve the needy; two, all of them have compassion for the fatherless; three, each has a deeper perception of the true essence of a father.

Now, the twenty-third of November is just a date I’ve forgotten in many chances, but now I see it a different perspective.

   

STILL IN THE ALPHABET

For years, I really possessed a strong optimistic outlook on language learning beyond cautious optimism. That was always a good start – an attempt having no regret in the end for such spirit.

Getting hold of a positive stance, it pushed me over the limit. And no matter how time consuming each language learned; regardless how complicated the rules in frames; despite how tiring the demand of a tongue twister – I stood the test – it was just a matter of settling the heart and mind encouragingly.

But not on this overwhelming language, the Khmer, in which each character I come across is a strange creature. I am beginning to be pessimistic about it, not to count the numerous whining and complaints.

The alphabet itself is too much, left me annoyed for not being able to familiarize every stroke still. Sometimes, I am tempted to set aside this venture again since I speak the language enough.

“You really have to memorize them to remember well.” insisted a Caucasian friend, also a learner.

“Ah, OK.” I replied instead of defying such an idea.

But my heart is telling me the irony of how I learned things – not memorization or by route. I prefer familiarization or learn it by heart, and then I’d remember them for the rest of my life.

Yet, as I devour myself daily mastering the alphabet, that’s when challenges come disturbing– to name – laziness, less motivation, forgetfulness, less focus, short attention, and all sort of negativism a body could ever feel.  

“I think my friend has a point on this one.” my defiant heart is agreeing.

Now, I am so tempted to give a shot and see what his idea has in stored. After all, no one dies in giving a try.

Still in the alphabet - in my fourth attempt – at least I didn’t give up.

Happy to know, it took years for the locals to master it. And that’s an excuse for not thriving very fast – if only I could.

Sad to say, there are locals still that couldn’t write and read such Khmer alphabet. Fortunately I am beginning to recognize things here – that’s another comfort.

“How old were you when you started learning Khmer formally?” I asked a veteran friend on this particular language.

“Forty plus something” he answered back.

In his super duper accomplishment embracing the language itself, speaking like a local is an eye-opener in fact. So I can still do it.

Today, I will be obedient enough memorizing each letter to prove me wrong. Hopefully, this will help me get through it. I could not wait to master the alphabet and be able to read Khmer words.

Wish me the best!

   

THE SIXTIETH

Like those who keep track of their journals – driven by inspiration amidst lethargy - they pursue their desire to conceive their thoughts into writing, as anything goes – and so am I.

Candidly, one thing I never neglect before a year is over is jotting down every goal both short and long terms. This reminds me so often rather than putting them in my memory which is impossible. At the end of the year, I could look back and evaluate what I have accomplished so far.

Speaking of goals, this year is a blast – I have to post five to ten articles a month in my blog to beat the numbers I had last year. But sixty articles are nothing compared to other blogger(s) that I know who maintain a hundred or more.

Irrefutably, I’m solely convinced that a writer can do more than just twenty-seven posts. So my intention is to beat last year’s; I say it again. 

“How about writing thirty articles this year?” I told myself while putting this specific goal into blue print, in my journal.

And so I gave a try.

Believe it or not, in just less than a half year’s time, I’ve accomplished my goal totaling thirty-two posts. Then I revised my goal making it to sixty ambitiously.

Now, I’m in reality – no more, no less, but in the sixtieth piece of writing - proving my doubt or someone else’s the possibility of it all.

Then, I can sit and relax as if this is my last post for the year.

 I don’t think so.

No, not yet, for as long as I have something to share before this year culminates, then my goal extends and my writing goes on and on and on.

With this, I only have a message, my intention per se for my readers or to other blogger(s) or to people with goals: “If one is only true to whatever goal, then it can be achieved regardless of the taunting haunt of obstacles. Not only one can simply achieve it, but it can be exceeded exceedingly. I hope you’ll achieve your goals this year - great and small!”  

God bless! 

  

BACK IN THE HABIT

The fact is, no matter how prominent or elite or famous a person in his/her own world, and then begins to learn other languages, he or she is always classified as beginner. At least, that’s what I have understood in language learning – where age is not the issue or a threat.

And so I am a beginner - but no prominent or famous or considered elite.

In other words, this guy is just a language learner who’s back in the habit – an old habit which I had set aside for so long – and now pulling me back, tangled, enticed.

If you have followed my old posts, then you’d know those languages I’ve spent time burning eyebrows. But I wasn’t challenged as crazy as learning “Khmer” or Cambodian’s mother tongue. The alphabet for instance, it gives me a hard nut – really a tough one to learn.

When I first worked in the country nine years back, my busyness didn’t give me opportunity to learn the language formally. So I learned a survival way using a phrase book I bought in the market. It helped a bit.

When I left the country, I had ventured another language (Vietnamese) without necessarily forgotten my Khmer because had crossed through these borders a lot. So I still had means of practicing my Khmer.

Surprisingly, I went back to Cambodia to work till this day. Now, I have been learning Khmer for three years – on and off.

This is my fourth attempt actually on learning how to read – like a beginner struggling to recognize each character or like an old man in Alzheimer’s disease. But I’m glad back in the habit.

My first attempt was three years ago – spent three months just for the alphabet – those times just learning the characters by heart night and day. Then I started recognizing letters and then words and then phrase. I wish I didn’t stop, but I did. And when I came back in the habit, I could not recognize any letters…as in back to zero.

The second attempt I‘d say the same scenario when I thought no more history-repeats-itself- case, but it did unfortunately. When I browsed the same book, I was already halfway to the reality yet was very surprised for such total blackout.

Again, I could not recognize almost every letter except for few ones – the R, the K, the Zero, and the E. I could not believe it myself.

That’s when I stopped trying for more than two years.

That’s when I decided to focus in speaking.

That’s when I changed my learning habit – to learn two words a day despite not able to read it, but it was quite challenging. And when I learned words, I had to ask someone to spell them for me to get the correct pronunciation. So I was able to learn by mimicking the sound or simply recognizing the letter’s equivalence.

But not now…I’m back in the habit. Had enough for two long years without motivation already. Trust me, it’s no easy, but I’m ready to face what it takes – the headache and confusion, the laziness and procrastination – have to fight it.

It’s been few weeks now burning eyebrows in the name of learning Khmer.  The fourth time feeling fulfilled as a learner aside from being able to read again. So glad I did. Now, I am simply back in the habit.