ambivalence

I take relief in agnostic views; I do not reject the existence of an almighty being nor support the notion of a God-less world, but neither can I vouch for such an existence. Certainly, religion provides an unshakable justification to the purpose and existence of mankind, injecting an undeniable meaning to life, but on the contrary, the concept of a being that arises out of nothingness is extremely confounding. Even the idea of how we even came up with the theory of God is equally overwhelming to me. I was rather amused to see a featured article in Time a few years ago that discusses the possibility of God being embedded in our genetic code because it seems to be answering one of the string of questions that intrigues me relentlessly. I once inquired a classmate in high school why and how is she so definite about an omnipotent presence in the Universe, and she nonchalantly replied that all you need is faith. I was taken aback and humbled by her answer, yet I couldn’t cultivate the same faith to believe without questioning. ( I was really expecting her to fumble at the question.) As much as I claim to be neutral in my views, I find myself thanking “God” for every blessings that occur in my life. The irony of it all!

In view of the recent book The God Delusion by Richard Dawkins, in which he proposes that the rise of religious fundamentalism is dividing people around the world, I somehow believe that the many disparate religions all lead to the same God, differing only in the routes to arrive at the common destination. We share a generally mutual view in ethical and moral conduct, and as a global community we strive to uphold good as opposed to evil. I don’t understand why we should allow differing views in religion to divide and cause a disparaging gap among mankind.

I lean towards the teaching of humanism, which advocates “the dignity and worth of all people, based on the ability to determine right and wrong by appeal to universal human qualities”, although I don’t fully embrace humanism’s “rejection of religion in favor of a belief in the advancement of humanity by its own efforts”.

It’s been exactly a year since the passing of my roommate of 3 years and friend of 15 years. We were never really close, but I felt her presence in major turning points of my life. We grew up in the same condominium grounds and entered the same primary and secondary school. I even followed her to Seattle just a few years after she enrolled in UW, and lived with her under the persuasion of her mother. She was like the elder sister I never had, and an academic role model who excelled in all areas, socially and everything else. She was an alluring beauty. She was close to perfection.

The phone call I received from my mother in October last year changed everything. My ears have never heard anything so foreign and my brains could not register the news. Until now, I don’t think I accepted the fact that she’s truly gone, because somehow I feel that she’s still alive out there somewhere. Or maybe I’m just in denial that someone who was here for as long as I can remember can suddenly vanish from the surface of this planet.

With the idea of death following me around, sometimes all problems become so frivolous and life too feels ever so insignificant. So what if I solve all my problems? I’ll never get out alive anyway. Maybe it is this harsh reality that instills in me a strong sense of belonging to life itself, makes me embrace living to the fullest and hold on to life like it is the last straw on earth. Because one day I’ll see my last sunrise.

When I was just a child, I used to think the world revolved around me, and that I was the lead character in that world. (But of course, now I know better.) Being the sheltered child I was, I guess it was inevitable that I grew ignorant to worldly things and started dwelling with the abstract, or perhaps one can easily pass that off as day-dreaming. And like any other inquisitive minds, I wondered about life and its purpose. And just like any other man that ever walked the earth, I am nowhere close to the answer.

A topic that intrigues me ceaselessly is ‘time’. Isn’t it amazing how “we can never step into the same river twice” (Plato), and that we can only experience one direction a moment at any one time? As intangible as it is orderly, time is just like any other remarkable product of nature, confounding us by the very necessity of its existence. It provides an additional depth to our 3-dimensional world and bestow us with a point of reference to our lives, acting as the marker to the beginning, the end, and everything in between. As time brings forth abundant opportunities to those who wait, it robs them off their lives and everything that they attained. Ever since I became aware of this cruel fact, I have always thought that time is a merciless creature that destroy mankind slowly but surely. And I cannot seem to get over the fact that our fleeting lives adds up to only an insignificant percentage of the present age of the planet, not to mention the whole baffling universe.

Sometimes I marvel at the orderliness of our universe. The sun and moon in their uninterrupted cycle of day and night assure us of a new dawn and providing us a closure for today. The seasonal changes endow us with an excitement of a new cycle of beginnings and ends. A cascade of stars that glisten in the heavens imbues us with the mystery of our existence. And then, there’s the Physics and Mathematical laws that govern the realms of reality, that is the very fundamental cause for our existence. Life might not even be possible without gravity to begin with. Nature signs on its creations with the Golden ratio , which permeates the foundations of our observable environment.

The orderliness of the universe fascinates me as much as when I observed the locals in Japan standing on the left side of the escalator, all cases without exceptions. The proof to that is I still recall it so vividly even after 5 years. Order in society…something we cannot do without, although I’d say that with the case of the escalator, that would make us quite a rigid and inflexible bunch.

Beneath this seemingly pristine facade lies an intricate web of complexity, woven into the very blueprint of our existence.

And of course , underneath it all is the orderliness of my own life, which I sometimes describe as mundane and routine, except with the unpredictable occasional changes which soon enough become inevitably prosaic. I crave for order, the safety net I can fall back to, especially when life gets a little too messy for my liking.

For the first time, I am encountering a broken water heater at my apartment. Before that is replaced, the apartment manager suggested we use Apt 411′s bathroom, since it’s still vacant. Now that is definitely not a common occurrence in my ordinal life, is it? Tomorrow morning I’ll feel a wave of freshness sweep over me as I waltz into the vacant Apt 411 just to use the shower.

I almost fainted this morning, literally. I should have been forewarned that an empty stomach and a hot shower is a deadly recipe for hypotension. Maybe I’m still jet-lagging, maybe I was missing home food badly, maybe these are just excuses. When I arrived in Seattle a few days ago, I was still caught up in a delusion that I was back home with my family. I woke up on my bed thinking how I hope my alarm clock didn’t wake my sisters up as well, only to realize that I’m all alone in Seattle. I was sleeping in abnormal hours and missing meals these last few days. Before I showered, I was rather surprised to see my weight hit a record low of slightly below 50kg?which never occur for the last5 years.

And trust me, during that bout of almost losing consciousness was a smothering feeling uncalled for, to the extent that I briefly thought that a quick death would free me from that episode of miserable torture. It’s not as simple as faint and be done with it. I was engaged in a mental and physical battle to defend my consciousness.

The only other time I ever came close to fainting was in 2002 during the SARS epidemic. I couldn’t make it out of bed one morning without losing my sight, feeling chilly all over, and losing my balance as a result. I stumbled clumsily back to bed 4-5 times in an hour, each time hoping that my next attempt would let me breeze my way out of the room, an everyday mindless routine much taken granted of. I regained my sight only when I was lying on bed.

Actually I contracted SARS a few months before it was made official to the public but I found out that I had similar symptoms as those diagnosed with SARS later on. My little brother was the first victim in the family, who got it from his friend who returned from HK with what the doctors passed off as hay fever at that time. From what I recall that didn’t seem like any regular fever…he was getting chills, breathing difficulties, and body aches… my parents were by his bedside every night, an unlikely sight if it were a regular fever. My little brother recovered, but passed the baton on to my sister who shares the room with me, and her “fever” temperature was slightly lower than my little brother, and it got only lower by the time it reached me, albeit still >38C. I read that Sars-induced fevers decrease in temperature as it is passed on to another.

I thought I was going to die that morning in 2002. I was finally able to walk after our home helper massaged me, letting my blood flow better, as my mom suggested. A trip to the doctor ended up with daily antibiotics for a week or so, which left a disgusting plastic taste in my mouth. Even the pills smelled bad.

And of course, after my very close shave with unconsciousness this morning, I was again reminded how wonderful it is to be healthy. I escaped fainting once again by stumbling back to bed, fortunately this time round I could walk to get breakfast and reclaim my lost energy. At least I know this isn’t SARS. And for the rest of today, I was overwhelmed with the thought that I was lucky to be alive and well. Funny how a close encounter with unconsciousness (other than sleep) can do that to me. With that said, I’ll be stocking up my fridge tomorrow.

I swear by the silver rule — Do not do unto others what you do not want others to do unto you — or at least I hope I have lived up to it. Ten years ago, a friend wrote me a poem which has been embedded in me ever since — The world is like a mirror, reflecting what you do, good to the others, the same they do to you — but life has taught me that it doesn’t pay to be too nice all the time. And you get taken advantage of now and then. I had a doormat personality right until a few years ago until I met someone who changed me. When I look back I can’t help wondering if being nice was just a facade to please everybody around me, and whether beneath the surface I actually had a mean streak. Eventually, one realizes that it’s impossible to please everyone. But it’s not as if I was trying hard to be nice, i just felt uneasy if I didn’t comply with another’s wish, to the extent that I would brood over it for many hours to come. A few people have told me that nice people don’t usually get any higher on the corporate ladder, and one cannot afford to be soft and obliging all the time. Even if you feel awkward about turning down a friend’s request sometimes, you have to say “no” if you truly cannot fulfill the request.

I’d like to think that pure altruism still exists but it is increasingly difficult to give selflessly without expecting a return or gaining a sense of satisfaction from a deed. The undeniable truth is that as humans we feel good when we give. Whatever the case is, I still advocate the silver rule over other rules such as the ever popular brass rule which translates to a tooth for a tooth.

I’ve always lamented on how vulnerable we are and how dreadful of the human condition to be entirely at the mercy of the environment. An unfortunate cut slicing deep into my skin while making dinner that is now a healing scar has always served as a reminder about the fragility of humankind. Although a minute scar now, I can remember distinctly the swift infliction of the knife, and how the blood gushed out of the 1cmx1cm v-shaped wedge, as if threatening to drain the life out of me. At that moment, I was even deluded into thinking that I was going to lose the portion of my flesh. And as I stared at my blood blending with the tap water, how I panicked and agonized over whether I’d need stitches or whether the wound would be infected if I didn’t get them; and to think that it didn’t even hurt.
Often while watching movie trailers, I catch myself commenting on how I dislike certain movies because they amplify our vulnerability (mostly slasher flicks and sci-fi ones that revolve around the extinction of mankind) and I hate to be reminded of this fact since I mull over it now and then.
The last time I found myself making such a comment, my sister shared her insight with me. But it’s rather strange for someone like her whose flavor in movies is of guns and violence to be saying this. “If we are not vulnerable at all, then we wouldn’t think that our lives are at the least precious” – which reminds me of another similar concept…if we’re never sick, we wouldn’t know what it’s like to be healthy…

I’m confined in a state of uncertainty, hence the blog name “Ambivalence”, which is an inevitable outcome from being in an inert state of ambiguity. Doubt is my loyal companion, cruising along with me along the dim highway. Voltaire claims that “doubt is not a pleasant condition, but certainty is absurd”, and how I embrace that piece of his mind. Indeed I’m not alone in my doubtful journey, as I found many quotes on doubt uttered by great figures of the past.

Beliefs are what divide people. Doubt unites them. -Peter Ustinov (1921-2004)

If you would be a real seeker after truth, it is necessary that at least once in your life you doubt, as far as possible, all things. -Rene Descartes (1596-1650)

I show you doubt, to prove that faith exists.-Robert Browning (1812-1889)

To believe with certainty we must begin with doubting.-Stanislaw Leszczynski (1677-1766)

I respect faith, but doubt is what gets you an education. -Wilson Mizner (1876-1933)

The whole problem with the world is that fools and fanatics are always so certain of themselves, but wiser people so full of doubts. -Bertrand Russell (1872-1970)

I find it wearisome to believe in a faith because of my doubtful nature and insatiable thirst to seek out a truth that is nothing but elusive. Yes, I agree that “the believer is happy; [but] the doubter is wise.” (Hungarian Proverb) But it is in uncertainty I seek refuge in and found assurance in, and it is doubt that drives me forward in life filling me with hope and anticipation.