One of the wonders of life is just that – the wonder of life. – Bill Copeland in Sarasota, Florida, Herald-Tribune 

It was a lovely morning.  The sun was just beginning to warm our earth, spilling golden yellow on our front lawn.  I looked forward to another sunny day.  

Daniel has gone to school. Simon was busy playing in his cot.  James and Brian were outside with me.  I was about to get into my car, but being outdoors was so lovely I lingered on at our porch to soak in the sun.

I needed the space.  Lately there have been many issues on my mind.

I took in a few deep breaths.  My eyes feasted on the myriad shades of green growing in our tiny garden.  My gaze fell upon our bougainvillea. Despite me diligently watering this plant, I had mentally written it off as a dying one.  It used to look pathetic with only one single withered branch. 

Today it tells a different story.  Its branch has leaves full and green, and blooming with bright orange flowers.  What a sight to behold!

I admired its will to live.  Given adequate water and sunshine, it has sprouted back to life. 

The boys’ shrill voices drew my attention.  I turned towards the direction of the commotion.

The sun warmed their backs as tiny hands did karate chops and legs kicked in all directions.  They were trying to wrestle each other to the ground. 

They were fighting, but they were not fighting.  Listening to bits and pieces of their conversation, they seemed to be playing a game of some sort. 

Engaged in their fantasy adventure, they were unaware of space and time.  There is no tomorrow, the moment is now.  Each must defend oneself from the other who is the enemy.

They locked arms and legs.  They chased each other across the lawn and unto that made believe sand hill. 

As I watched their lithe bodies in action, I too, lived in the present.  

Never have I seen play extended to be so real. 

Momentarily, I unloaded the baggage I was carrying in my mind. 

It was hard for me to believe that these were my boys.  It seemed only yesterday they were wriggling in my arms.  How strong and handsome they have grown!

That lovely morning, I took time to say grace.  I thanked God for my beautiful boys.  I thanked God for good health.  I thanked God for the sun.  I thanked God for my spouse and his wicked sense of humour.  I even thanked God for my fat thighs.  

My gaze fell upon my bougainvillea once more.  There it was, looking glorious in full bloom. 

As I got into my car, I knew that the day was going to turn out just fine. 

Wishing you and your family a lovely weekend.  Cheers!

We have a personal computer in our house.  The monitor screen is awfully bulky in its faded yellowish white casing.  My spouse tells me that these are on the way out.  Apparently, most users prefer the portable and trendier looking notebooks these days.

Anyhow, I am glad that I have this pc at my beck and call.  It performs the basic functions of type, cut and paste very well.  And that was enough to keep me happy.

One fine day, my spouse came back with a black screen.  It sure looked like a sexy siren to me compared to our current screen.  It was sleeker and slimmer.

I present to you the latest technology. This is the Samsung LCD flatscreen. 

In ten minutes flat that same night, my spouse had switched the monitors.   I was secretly ashamed of myself.  All I saw was a mass of entangled wires, the thick layer of dust and much cleaning up to do before the monitors could be changed.    

That same week, I started sending my children to piano classes. 

For years I’ve procrastinated.  The excuses were many and plausible; there was no piano at our home, the fees chargeable were too expensive, the boys were too young.
Even so, I had a deep desire for my children to embrace music as part of their lives.  But for reasons unexplainable, I felt much resistance and had never made piano lessons a reality until recently. 

I am sure the monitor- change prompted me to take a step forward. 

My spouse made the change look so easy. His easygoing approach towards changed prompted me to take action.  And I too, embraced change as a friend. 

Now, my two elder boys attend piano classes once a week. 

And I hope, you too, my friend will make the change you had always wanted to change today. 

Cheers! And have a good week ahead.  

Regardless of how you feel inside, always try to look like a winner.  Even if you are behind, a sustained look of control and confidence can give you a mental edge that results in victory. – Arthur Ashe on Tennis

I’ve had a long night.  The baby was cranky, causing me to get in and out of bed all night.  I woke up tired. 

The weather mirrored my attitude this morning.  It was gloomy and dull.  And my head hurt. 

In addition to my fatigue, my mind was muddled with unpleasant thoughts that were starting to wear me down.  I was not looking forward to having a good day. 

I love my children.  They are always cheerful and full of energy regardless.  Be it a sunny day or a gloomy one.  For them a new day is always filled with promises and adventures.

I looked into the mirror.  I was startled by its reflection. One’s hair was disheveled, her eyes lifeless and her skin colour tawny.  My only guess is that too much coffee is bad for the skin after downing 4 glasses the day before. 

I seriously needed to tap into the reservoir of my boys’ endless exuberance. 

Brian was, as usual, very noisy in my room.  I was too distracted to pay any attention at him.  I had too many problems in my head at the moment. 

Instead, my eyes fell upon the dark clouds heavy with rainwater at a distant.  My mood was as sombre as those black clouds. 

I heaved a sigh. 

Soon, it started to rain.  First softly, and then it got bigger and louder.  We had an awning erected on our front lawn to provide some shade from the scorching sun in the afternoons.  Now the rain beating on it had a rhythm going.
 
Tee ta tee ta tee ta tee… it went.

At first I took no notice of this, but because the beat was so consistent, the sound created music to my ears. 

“Let’s do the rain dance,” I told Brian. 

Although he didn’t know what to expect, he sportingly nodded his head. 

I stood facing him, and raised my hands in the air. 

“Now, let the rain fall,” I said, letting my arms fall while wriggling my fingers.  “Don’t forget to shake your head. Shake your bum as well.” 

I started a rain dance right in my room to the tempo of the falling rain.

Tee ta tee ta tee ta tee ta… it continued steadily on.  

The little boy quickly caught on.  He moved his arms up and down, shook his head left and right, and wriggled his fingers non stop.  

Soon, his whole body was in motion.  So was mine.

This rain dance was serious business.  

We performed the rain dance for ten minutes.  Then, the boy decided that he would change into a bird. 

Tweet tweet tweet tweet, he chirped while flapping his arms and running around the baby’s cot. 

And what was I?

I was a bald eagle.  Stretching my arms out fully on each side, I moved as if I was gliding in the air just like a powerful eagle. 

I glided behind the chirping bird while making the sound of the wind. 

Hmm… I liked being an eagle.  I think I’ll glide a few more rounds through the mountains.    

The baby cot suddenly had ridges, slopes and crevices.

I ran round and round the cot, and made more noises.  I must have looked so silly.

But not to the boy though.  On the contrary, he couldn’t be happier. 

He didn’t mind me gliding aimlessly round and round the mountains, I mean the cot.  He was being followed by an eagle.  He has found a playmate.

I love children!  They never say things like, “Don’t do that.  You look so ridiculous.”

A little pretend play did wonders for me.  It lifted my black mood that had blanketed me the whole morning. 

It was still raining when we went downstairs but what does it matter. The both of us were laughing and in high spirits despite of the bad weather.    

Try some pretend play today! Especially with your children.  You will be pleasantly surprised at the results. 

And here’s wishing you a great week ahead.

Cheers! 

A good book should leave you… slightly exhausted at the end.  You live several lives while reading it. -William Styron, interview, Writers at Work, 1958

Articles of enduring significance, in condensed permanent booklet form.  – Reader’s Digest, March 1987.

I’ve been reading lately.  Suddenly, I find myself having some pockets of free time here and there during the day.  I reckon the major attribution to these free moments is that the baby has grown somewhat and doesn’t need my fullest attention now.       

Some of us read for knowledge.  Others read to pass exams.  And I read for pleasure.  When I was a young woman I enjoyed reading Reader’s Digest immensely.  That was more than twenty years ago.

Then life distracted me. I met a handsome young man, got married, and had children.  Marriage and children kept me on my toes. There was never enough time in a day to simply read for pleasure until now.

I found a recent copy of RD lying in my mail basket.  After a brief chat with my spouse, I found out that upon trying to enter a RD sponsored contest, he had subscribed to the magazine for a year long.

May 2010 RD was delivered nice and thick. It looked more attractive than ever with vibrant colours splashed all over its front cover. 

At the first available moment, I curled up on my favourite couch for a read.      

I quickly discovered that inserted between the covers were one hundred over pages of trash.  I say trash, because nothing from those pages that I read fired up my brain cells.

I was merely bombarded with advertisements from so-called best voted brands. To name a few from a ridiculously endless list, RD featured their trusted brand family restaurant, lingerie and beer.

“Our meals are made from the best ingredients.” 

“Our most popular items come from our Maximiser push-up range.”

“Our products are exported to 60 markets around the world.”

Why would I want to fill my mind with brands and branding?  I honestly don’t know.

So many precious pages wasted!

Three months ago, RD organised a poll based on this totally frivolous question; “Would You Marry the Same Person Again?” 

“I don’t give two hoots on how the world responded!” I said to my spouse.  “Their results do not make me love you more or less.”

Why would I want to spend time analysing a survey like this? I honestly don’t know.

More precious space wasted!

RD today features a regular “Dear Abby” column. 

Reading this merely fills my already cluttered mind with more problems belonging to someone else. 

An appointed mysterious ‘Aunty’ from RD has the absolute advice and solutions. 

Who knows who this big A might be?  Another man on the street, a woman psychic, a budding psychologist or perhaps the editorial staff takes turns?  

I’ve read it all in the newspapers and gossip magazines; the nosy mother-in-law, the inconsiderate neighbour, the cheating partner etc.

So, now I have the newspapers, gossip magazines plus RD bringing the world’s problems right to my door steps.   

Why would I want to read about Jack’s and Jill’s problems, I asked myself.  I honestly don’t know.  Perhaps I should ask RD’s Aunty.  

Another page wasted on trash!

RD today dedicates one whole page to cooking recipes every  month. 

I now have four cooking recipes and no answer to how these can changed my life. 

By the way, where can I find paprika?

If I had wanted recipes, I would have gone out and bought myself a Women’s Weekly magazine. 

Oh, there goes another page wasted!   

RD today features guest writers in their monthly column Voice.   

Finally, let’s get down to some serious reading. 

These authors are well established in their respective profession.     Some have common names, others have so complicated ones that I can’t pronounce. Regardless, they are all followed by big titles. 

They write so well.  Even so, reading these required the mind, and not the heart. The topics discussed were befitting a classroom discussion or a thesis research.

Possibly the only difference between them and a student is that, these writers write flawless English.

A recent topic discussed was terrorism.  The writer categorised and explained his writings concisely in point form.  He broke down the meaning of Victory in three levels; Tactical victories, strategic victories and grand … yawn…  Where was I again? 

Reading RD these days is like reading an encyclopaedia.

April 2010 issue dedicated one full page on hotels having achieved the ‘-est’ factor, namely the tallest, the most expensive and the coldest.  

Why doesn’t RD feature also the flattest, the least expensive and the warmest hotel, I thought to myself.  By the way, does RD know that there is no ‘est’ in expensive?  

Perhaps RD ran out of space, or she ran out of ideas, or she second guessed that her current readers enjoy digesting mindless facts. 

My brains have gone shopping.

The hotel feature was on page 23.  The page before that, which happened to be page 22, RD tried to have some fun with the number 26.

It was reported that 26 million people got displaced because of climate change, 26 percent of Australians would like to get a tattoo, the longest human appendix measured 26cm etc.

You know what I mean. 

“Why not have fun with the number eleven, or ninety nine, or two hundred and twenty three?” I asked my spouse.  

He didn’t bother answering.  He is now getting used to my sudden outburst regarding the magazine. 

Why would I want to fill my head with the number 26?

 I honestly don’t know.

All I know is that my life had zero change after reading this. 

The current RD look so much more sleek with laser sharp graphics and pages printed in different shades compared to their older issues twenty years ago.  Even the editor gets to display a different self portrait each month in RD’s Editor’s Letter nowadays. 

And yet, RD today lacks.  It just lacks. 

RD today lacks the Ali-s ( an Indian elephant handler who fought fiercely and survived a tiger attack at India’s Corbett National Park ), Jutimitta-s ( a Police Major in Thailand who is uncompromising in a corrupted society and risked his life daily hunting down drug traffickers relentlessly ) and Gudlaugur-s ( a fisherman whose boat capsized at sea and he unbelievably survived seven hours in icy cold waters). 

Where is the presence of the resilient human spirit, the blood, the gore and the glory in today’s RD articles?

RD today is all about Super and famous.  She prefers to devote precious space interviewing and writing up on Hollywood superstars, Sports superstars, famous singers and famous chefs.  I read about these superstars and their relationship with their roles on TV, their fathers, their guitars and, their restaurants. 

I stifled another yawn.

My life remains unchanged still. 

Perhaps the most disturbing trend I discovered reading RD today is that she is peppered with sarcasm. 

I’ve come across offensive put-down quotes by superstars (not them again!) as if these were words of wisdom.   

RD today prefers to highlight Paris Hilton look-alikes and making fun of another person’s ignorance.  Even her jokes bordered cynicism.  

I was a great advocate of RD but now, I am not so sure.

I shudder to think of the influence this will have on RD’s young readers.  Would they willingly accept sarcasm as part of life?  

I felt a twinge of sadness.

Somehow, somewhere along the years, RD changed its core concept. 

I continued flipping the pages listlessly, looking for an article of interest.  I found a write up on Toy Story 3.

Not this again.

Their merchandise started selling before the movie premiered in the cinemas.  I’ve already seen their over publicised trailer countless of times on TV.  My spouse, my children, my friends and their children already know the existence of this movie.  And they didn’t need to read RD to find this out.    
    
Another precious page wasted!

I flipped the pages some more.  There were more reviews; book reviews and phone reviews. 

I skimmed through a write up on Google’s Android.  It was a review of comments and, statements and, more comments, written in that order. 

My brain, it has gone to sleep!  Is there not an article for the serious reader today?

At that point I felt that reading nothing was better.   

In an instant, I shut RD up.  I’ve had enough thrash reading for the day.  

So many wasted pages!

Two days ago, by sheer coincidence, an issue of March 1987 RD lay on my reading table.  I picked it up, planning only to read for a few minutes. 

I turned to page 45.

Jessica. This article was condensed from “People” by Susan Hill.  I’ve read Jessica many times over the past years.  Even so, every read of Jessica is like a first read.  Ms Hill wrote lively descriptions of her nine year old Jessica.  The author also wrote of how her daughter’s birth transformed her.

I loved how the author captured the essence of motherhood and childhood in a timeless manner.  This article was written more than twenty years ago, but her recorded experiences are just as relevant to me today. 

Reading Jessica years ago inspired me to write about my newest baby then.  His name was Brian.  After my current reading of Jessica, I am once again inspired to write.  This time the child’s name is Simon. 

I turned to page 99. 

The last Rainbow, condensed from Outdoor Life, Jim Berlin had a colourful title.  The rainbow was not the seven coloured striped one I had expected it to be though.  Instead it was fish, a trout.

The author wrote warmly of the last time he went fishing with his dying dad.  He wrote of baby loons, the bridge and stream they both knew so well, and fishing for the best rainbows under the bridge.  It was a beautifully written poignant final precious moments shared between a son and his father.  The story timeless, the emotions evoked bitter sweet. 

I was pleased with myself for picking up this particular issue of RD.  On its front cover in capital bright red letters, it printed for all to see ‘Unforgettable DeWitt Wallace’.   He was the genius behind RD. 

It has been almost an hour since I started reading.  The children are beginning to get rowdy, and the baby is fretful.  Even then, I couldn’t resist reading once more, despite the countless of times I had read, of DeWitt Wallace’s rise to success with RD.
 
He founded RD in 1922.  In those early years, he would condense articles of interest, writing in long hand on yellow sheets of paper.  All articles published were compressed and condensed for straight to the point easy reading.  His relentless search for good articles to condense benefited me tremendously.

DeWitt Wallace is truly unforgettable. He changed my life.  RD changed my life. 

His condensed little magazine taught me most about living.  RD constantly reminded me of the dangers of smoking.  Thanks to RD I don’t perceive the Marlboro man to be cool. Now, I tell my children the same message RD taught me repeatedly years ago. Cigarettes kill.  

RD taught me the importance of writing thank-you notes.  She taught me the importance of marriage.  She taught me about good manners, humanity, exercise and having fun. 

No wonder this little booklet is the World’s Most-Read Magazine.

Time ceased to exist as I burrowed myself deeper into the story of DeWitt Wallace.  Nothing else mattered except for the printed pages I held in my hands.   

I was finally reading for pleasure!   

My baby was wailing too loudly to be ignored by now. I reluctantly parted company with DeWitt Wallace. 

I have been thinking.

When I read RD of the yesteryears, her articles resonated in my life. 

I read of a child’s battle with AIDS in Go Toward The Light by Chris Oyler.  Ben was seven years old when he discovered he was dying of AIDS.  I held my breath.  I have a seven year old child myself.  After reading this, I thought of Ben constantly for days after.  His mother wrote of the pain and helplessness they had to endure watching their child slowly waste away.  My heart ached for his parents.  I thought deeply of death. 

I read of the ordeal of a Chinese mother who at 8 months pregnant, was forced to have an abortion by the Chinese government.

I felt for this young mother.  After reading this, I am grateful  to be able to bear four babies with no major consequences. 

I read of one family’s relocation from England to Spain in Happy Valley by Chris Stewart.  Chris and Ana Stewart gave up their old life in England to run a farm in a remote location in Spain.  They relocated anyway despite the many challenges, one being the lack of funds.   I like reading this piece of work. The author cleverly injected a wicked sense of humour in the right places.
 
Follow one’s dream, the story suggested. 

I read of Sabeer Bhatia.  Chances are you might never have heard of him. Neither have I.  He was a Stanford University graduate.  With a friend they launched a company called Hotmail in Silicon Valley.  They later sold the company to Microsoft in exchange for shares worth a whooping $400million.  He was only 27 years old at that time. Unbelievable!   

I wished I had his idea and guts to make it happen!

There are countless more stories I can tell you; stories that brought tears to my eyes, stories that changed the way I lived, stories that sang a song in my heart.

Here is one of my absolute favourites; Why a Man Needs a Woman by Herbert Stein in RD’s March 2000 issue.  

It is two pages long, and written simply for easy understanding. 

The before and after effects of reading this piece of work was remarkable.  I was plain Jane transformed to Cinderella.

A work of science and art interwoven intricately to produce a masterpiece, this is a great read.  The highlight though, belongs to its brilliant ending.  I had such a thrill reading the ending given its unexpected twist.

You are never an average man, or woman to the one who loves you. 

RD yesterday created waves, RD today merely makes statements.

Wishing you a good day today!  And make a book, not just any book but a good one, your companion today.