It was evening and the sky was dark when I finally arrived at the foot of Kent Ridge park. The fact that it had just finished raining and the ridge was covered in a thick layer of mist meant that visibility is extremely bad. This situation was made worst by the terrible fogging over of my glasses which limited my vision to just 3 meters ahead of me. Somehow the lights within the park were few and far in between as compared to other parks in Singapore. Not wanting to risk a crash on these steep paths, I got of my cruise board and started on foot instead.
It was not long before I realized that I was going around in circles in this part of the park, a labyrinth. Somehow, I was having problems finding my way to the Hort Park from here. I soon heard the foot steps approach. An old man dressed in white approached, he had a crown of white locks. It was strange to see someone dressed totally in white in such a deserted street of the park where there were no lights at all. Is he man or ghost I questioned myself. Regardless I waved him down and asked him the direction to the Hort park.
“Up those flight of stairs” he said “turn right and then head straight down”.
Thus I did. What awaited me at the end of the flight of steps was a path that had no lamp lights at all, it headed straight into the vegetation shrouded thickly with mist.
“Perhaps this is the path leading to the netherworld and he was indeed a ghost, perhaps this is to be the last hour of my life” I thought to myself as I threaded further along this lonely path. So be it then, I thought to myself as I recollected the life I had till now. Though there are a few fundamental questions I have yet found answers to, it can be considered a life well lived.
I have always gone on walks or more generally wanderings when bothered by contradictions that I have found no answers to. Sometimes, these wanderings get so extensive they extend beyond the realms of the island of Singapore. To some who ask, I would term it backpacking, however on a personal level, it should instead be called pilgrimages. The purpose is less sight seeing than it is a search for a sign.
The first of such pilgrimages brought me to a valley in the heart of the golden triangle wherein a deserted church and a Buddhist temple resides on opposite sides of the hill while a museum dedicated to the opium residing between these two in the valleys.
The most extensive of such pilgrimages brought me from South East Asia, past the Tibetan plateau, across the central plains all the way to London where my search finally ended in front of a pagoda dedicated to a 12th century Buddhist monk from Japan. Along the way, I encountered the Tibetan high priests, the nomadic Kazakh muslims, the Turkish Mystics called Sufis, New Age hippies, the psychics from the Spiritualists churches. It is in fact karmic that the person I was to reside with during the last leg of this pilgrimage was a Sufi with a vast collection on doctrines from various religions, ranging from Laoism, Taoism, Buddhism to Christianity and Spiritualism.
If there was any similarities between these wanderings, it is the lack of material comfortable. One could in fact call it an ascetic way of life. The energy slowly drained from the body, devoid it of excess energy which causes unnecessary distraction to the mind. The mind is thus free to consider, ponder and question.
The central question remains as always the same. Why am I here? This was exactly the same question I posed to my dad when I was still 16 years of age. “The meaning you will have to find for yourself”, was his response. 13 years later right now walking alone in the park in this thick shroud of mist, I am still in the process of finding the answer to the reason of my existence.
Though I did manage to figure out some parts of the answer this question, intuition tells me I am still far from it. Last week during the very last leg of my journey from Clementi to Changi Village over land on my cruise board, when my body was almost drained to its last ounce of energy, this thought which originated from sub-conscious suddenly came to my awareness.
I came with nothing into the world of matter. Through exertion of will, that which is the truly me acquired control of the elements from the ether and thus created the physical body which I am right now at this very moment pushing to its limits to arrive at my intended goal.
This cycle could be repeated to whatever magnitude I desire to acquire further elements from the ether if necessary. My sub-conscious tells me the answer I seek lies not in the path of acquiring elements but in the realms of the spirit, a path of will and inner fortitude strengthening. However this path of growth which I now follow is not the goal itself but a means to an ends. This ends is the answer I seek and it remains a still mystery.
True education for me actually began much later in life when no longer distracted by the superficial curriculum of the public school systems. Ironically, this education which came from my Dad only started after I made it exceptionally clear beyond a doubt in the material world, I will be threading the path similar to him, as is similar to his dad, as is similar to his dad’s dad, of running my own operations. As my cousin Johnson once said, “bro, the blood of the Teh family runs true in you as well it seems…”
While the concept of money management has been pounded into my head since my adolescent days, the remaining set of rules were past on randomly during our lunch time conversations. When it happens, my dad would usually cite from his dad. Reflecting upon them, these rules seem to be a rather ancient and have been past down from one generation to the next. They must have been past down from beyond grand father’s generation it seems.
Over a recent issue which cropped up during my operations, I was quite agonized. The agony had nothing to do with emotions but from a supposedly unreasonable demand from a client. I was cracking my brains to think of a win win situation for both parties. I ended up deliberating over this matter with my parents tapping on their vast years of experience. Of course the tactic proposed by mum’s is as usual very ruthless, not something I will ever consider resorting to. I ended up formulating my own method to resolve this conflict amicably for both parties. However in the process of deliberation, I found out another legacy that runs within my blood.
“Son you, me and your grand father are the similar in this tendency” he said one day over lunch one day. “The need always to be fair to everyone and more often than not compromising materially for such the idealism.”
“The Cheks, the sub-ethnic race that old Mr Lee comes from do business by always attempting to gain an unfair in any negotiation is different from the style we Tehs do business”
“Your granddad always preach not to harm, but do not forget to defend your own interest. But the compromising nature of your granddad means more often than not, he losses some in the process. While he might not have been extremely rich in his social circles, he gained a very high standing among them and was very well respected.”
I asked him, if there was any way to break this legacy which is within our blood.
“Well, meditate… this too is karma” he replied pointing to the Buddhist altar situated in our living room.
