missing options

a month ago i was on an island paradise, walking in the jungle, trying to work my way down the terraced hillside to see the river at the bottom of the valley. the manager of the resort had told us that the two local rivers came together a bit down stream and the male and female flows come together as one. he said this was a sacred place, because of the combined energy. i didn't know if the river below was male or female, and i wondered if i would be able tell when i saw it.

as i walked through the trees, there was an erie calm. this was real jungle, and i really had no reason to be out here. but i was in paradise, staying in a resort with all the amenities expected to accompany private villas, and here i was tromping along in running shoes and cargo shorts. walking through the jungle is not as easy as it looks. vines reach for your feet with each step, and the idea that a snake is underfoot never really goes away. focus needs to be kept down and forward, not natural for someone conditioned to looking up and scanning the horizon for coming issues.

i wondered how much harder this would be in a truly dangerous environment. i had gotten here by walking down a flight of stairs and past some tiki poles. i imaged other americans taking flights to jungles in asia, and being sent out to walk in the jungle near rice padis. in their case punji sticks were the wood carvings along the way. i took a beat and looked around, a beautiful valley with gender-ambiguous river below and smoke in the air.

the smoke was coming from a small hut in the woods ahead. the hut had a fire burning, and when i got closer i saw a woman sitting over the flames burning a pile of branches. rather than just passing, i went over to take a picture, we had a conversation in broken-bahasa and i learned she was there to keep the jungle clear. she burned some of what she cut, and feed the rest to pigs back in her village. as we spoke, i realized there were few guests at this zen resort who ever met this hidden member of the staff.

a month later, i keep flashing back to this encounter. as i go through my day, i wonder if she is there cutting and burning the jungle into submission. talk about a job that never ends, the jungle never stops growing. i wonder about her years before, making choices on career day. did she sit down and think, i want to work in the jungle and almost never talk to anyone? are there annual reviews with this role? does she have KPI that are measured with smart criteria?

this is clearly a career that comes from narrow options. i have been to this paradise before, there is work out there for someone who is mobile, has language skills and is willing to interact with visitors. this is probably true almost anywhere. if you are willing to move, can communicate and are willing to work, you have options. not having options... maybe that comes from inside. do we take options off the table because we do not want the choice?

my boss reminded me yesterday that i have a pretty good life. i was standing on my expat-balcony overlooking the swimming pool, the sun was shining and i was headed into work so i could run on the treadmill i have inside my office. things are pretty good, even with cobras next to my car, the literal rats-nest in the air-con over my desk and the strange costs of living here. i have to admit that most of the time i am very happy, even if i am missing opportunities.

i would like to be back in the US. i would like to drive down to venice beach, have a burrito and watch the performers. i would love to go to newport beach and eat dinner at flo's; maybe pj would show up and we could have a beer over clams. but what really makes me happy is that i have options. i look forward to finding a loft and being part of the gentrification of a less than perfect part of town; it will still be nicer than KL. i can do these things, or almost anything else i want. some options would take a visa, others i could just go and do. but not today, today i am just happy being busy and watching the growth around me.

some days might feel like i am cutting back a jungle, or avoiding punji sticks, but then i remember that a quick walk up the hill and i get to kick off those shorts and hop into the pool. taking a swim in the middle of the day is an option that most people do not have, but i have learned that if i focus i can. the best part is that there are people who i can swim with, or who will pass me a towel when i climb out.

having the pool is good, but sharing the swim is the real fun.

calling celibacy

people talk about the one that got away. that person that could have made them whole, could have brought happiness to their lives and given them the contentment they so deeply crave. i understand this, because we are our choices. what we experience in life is a direct result of the decisions we make the the directions we take. life is good if you allow it, but some people continue to carry regrets. someone just said, "we do what we are", and that made me think about a career choice i didn't make.

i went to college in a catholic school. a major part of the initial curriculum, were the religion/philosophy class requirements. the overall core was comprised of three philosophy, three theology, four humanities (code for religion-philosophy); with added english, foreign language and art credits. these are clearly all the skills needed for a teacher to coach american football, to helo-cast US marines into combat or to manage a software-engineering team. reading homer, cervantes and machiavelli were good, but not directly applicable to what i do now; machiavelli does have its lessons.

i remember a night during my freshman year, reading in the dorm, when i was presented with a choice. i was reading about saint augustine and the situations of desire that were presented to highlight his begotten youth were familiar. anyone who had been in the van from the beach to the fenway, with the side trip to boston's combat-zone, could envision what the father of celibacy had experienced. being brought up catholic was just enough to feel the guilt and want to escape the pleasures.

this was the moment when it happened. for the first time i considered joining the priesthood. this was the moment of "calling" that i had been warned of, a gift that i was expected to embrace. i was being given a vocation, i was being invited into the fold. it felt as though i being called up from double-A ball and was being given a shot at the show; a very long shot with my arm. a chance was presenting itself that i had never considered, that i never thought i would be allowed. i had avoided all the predecessor conditioning steps, while my best friends were ringing the bells at mass, i was still on the beach and here i was, getting the nod.

i took a breath and considered it; rather than be overcome with the chance, i did the math. i was at a benedictine school, i didn't see myself as a parrish priest, but i felt more like a dominican (a hound of god), than living the "ordered life" of a benedictine. would i need to live the monastic life? what if the abbot role was filled, would i need to travel to move up? celibacy, was that complete or was there a hall-pass available? could i still have children? maybe the eastern orthodox church had more flexibility, but those robes and hats....

the entire process took no more than a minute or two, and i passed. augustine made his case, but i had always thought it went a little to far. a few days later while talking to the future abbot of the local order, i told him i had received an offer but had passed. i asked what he thought, he was unable to stifle the laugh that escaped. brother was a sensible man, and is trusted by the order to lead now, so i am sure i made the right choice. but since there have been times, when i wonder.

i look good in black, i have the ability to enforce rules that i do not agree with and i feel the best when helping someone through a situation. the fact that i get bored and go out and find projects to keep myself occupied, especially ones that don't focus on the party line, could be an issue. my libertarian hedonism and agnosticism could be another. but times are tough, maybe there is room for us both to reconsider this. i am too old to join the military, and i heard someone in his 60s became a priest. so there is time, but some of the rules will need to be bent; i come with a personal angel.

if you are really serious, you can call me again and we can discuss the specifics.

avoiding balik

it is hari raya weekend. this is time is equivalent to the thanksgiving of the malaysian community. a time when seemingly everyone exits the city and goes home to kampong. it is time to celebrate the end of fasting and beginning of the month of feast. years ago, my first raya was an experience of KL emptiness, as though a dystopian event had descended and driven the population into the hillside. it was actually the cultural bias to return and spend time with the family who had not transitioned into the emerging-modern world of KL. so why is it different this time, the city is full, the cafe is loud. where is the desire to go home?

the downside to having the city full the coming week is not severe; it's just not what was hoped for. KL is a place that ebbs and flows with the holiday calendar. this weekend is the combined holidays of medeka and hari raya. merdeka is a semi-secular holiday of independence from british colonial rule. hari raya is the two day festival that marks the end of the fasting month of ramadan. they are overlapping this year, making for a holiday week, because of the islamic lunar calendar which moves ramadan forward a month each year. given the length and importance of the break, it has been expected to provide space for those of us who are without kampong.

in prior years, balik kampong would empty the city. the streets would be clear, the restaurants would be empty. i should have seen the signs of this not happening this year, over the past few weeks i have asked if places would be closed, and each said they would be open. the person saying they would be open normally said it with a tone of disapproval. they appeared to want to be closed, but some owner was forcing them to be open. they are not yet comfortable to openly condem the decision, this stage of maturity only gives them the teenager angst and glare.

these were fully expat locations, coffee shops owned by kiwis and weak-copies of US hamburger or pizza places. the latter owned by mysterious malays who happily sell beer while restricting pork, but who also recognize that the economic opportunity of selling pizza to a chinese family out weighs the need of their staff to go home to mom's house and enjoy the feast of thanksgiving. actually as i think of this, this does seen like progress. economy over imaginary friends and time with mom.

on the demand side of this, there are more people who appear to have nowhere to balik. i have overheard conversations about this by locals, those who never returned on these breaks have been wondering why so many people are making the choice not to go. the common thread seems to be that family back in the hills have either died off, or have moved to KL to be cared for by the younger generations. there is no reason to go back if mom is already here.

maybe this is the right time to stipulate a few points. i have not been home is almost a year. the two homes i have in the US are both sitting unvisited, long flights away. emotionally i do not feel the need to go home for this holiday, i probably would not have gone to my isolated island family this weekend if i were there. there was a drop-off that needed to be done in the mountains, driving hours through a depressively overrated tropical storm. but i just spent the summer with 2/3 of the people i needed to celebrate, and the flights are literally a pain in my ass.

as i sit with my espresso roma, i am thinking of jodie foster's movie "home for the holidays". it is a celebration towards the sadly-average american family. through the haze of turkey, you feel the dysfunctional loving embrace of people who drive each other completely crazy, and from whom they cannot escape. in this clip you will see a strong resemblance of my father saying a thanksgiving blessing. for a more painful image, watch the infamous turkey scene; carving much to close to the bone. there are painful images, but they represent the peril of spending time with people who know the complete truth, even as the truth comes out; or returns from days long past.

this is what spending time with close family is all about. being able to remember the good old days, embracing your childhood, and dropping the pretension of adulthood. but it can come with a painfulness that you hoped you left behind. the awkwardness of youth can creep back to the surface and if you are not careful you might get hosed down on the front lawn. i don't see the local family being as honest, or is it brutal, with themselves as is jodie's purely american story.

KL is normally a crowded, but empty, city. this week we hoped for a simply empty city, but it's not happening. the crowds remain, which could be indicative of the weight that the city continues to gain on the population. if there is no other place to go, it could be that the villages are no longer holding a rural attraction, or it could be that people just want to stay home and be out of the rush. either way its another sign of change here. the people of KL are less kampong-centric, the emptiness is not what it used to be.

i need to watch for the next ebb, and may need to balik with the flow.

wanting air

i am sitting in a cafe, trying to waste time while work i could have done is being done by someone who didn't want to do it. i need to stay out of the way, so i am taking up space in a crowded cafe. a friend of mine walked in about an hour ago, when he sat down he said, "i thought i would find you here." he didn't expect me to be out on my bike, or showering after a run, he thought i would be here with my laptop, book and a coffee in front of me.

i am a creature of habit, i find routines that allow me to control the quality of my day. my basic wardrobe of jeans, polo and running shoes has been comfortably mine ever since i walked into the preppie haven of potter & co as a teen. i have replaced the alligator with a polo player, and i no longer feel the need to cut the branding away. the teenaged false-rebellion of creating holes to highlight my "conspicuous consumption" has faded away into enjoyment of simple and consistent quality.

i also have a strong drive to search for new and shiny toys to play with. the friend sitting next to me asked if i could be any more apple-branded. macbook pro, iphone and ipad splayed across the table, i smiled and turned the computer so he could see that i was shopping for a replacement air to fill the gap of the one going off to college this weekend. a purchase that i definitely do not "need", but that i might want; it's an ongoing debate. i am using the weight of 17 inches to justify the want of air. the extra-ness of the pro makes it less than portable, but is that enough to excuse the cost of going light.

i have been exercising every day this month. this is in stark contrast to the many months before when exercise was an afterthought of missed regret. for over a year, i have tried to get into the groove needed to sustain this effort, but was not emotionally tied to the benefits. i didn't want it enough to invest in making it happen. this was a purchase that just missed the cut of desire. i would have needed to pull away from the desk, or spin away at home, and that was too much for the perceived gain; gain through loss is a hard sell.

what tipped the logical analysis into the negative was the lower near-term benefit. many people are driven by fear-induced choices that go along the lines of -- if you don't do "x", bad things will happen, so hurry up and do "y". the y here for purchasing the lesser weight and lowering the drag of age and size could have won. being lighter is a good thing, i was never debating that, but having the biggest screen is a good thing too. the weight reinforces the existential substance, like driving the swedish engineered sports-wagon, rather than the italian designed sports-coupe. i have always been more wagon than coupe guy, i love the sound of the heavy doors closing around me.

this still leaves me with a decision, do i go to see my chinese apple guy and walk away with the light as air toy, or do i carry the full-sized wagon that i love; considering the weight every time i heft my messager bag onto my shoulder. the newly jobless apple has recently upgraded the line, there is a new processor and a new lion inside the box. but it feels like a waste to have another box to play with, my repressed catholic-protestant guilt is shining through and questioning the "need" to go light.

what if i wait another month or two? there are rumors that a larger air is on the way. i should be considering if another two inches will be sexy enough to cause regret after the smaller purchase i can make now. but bigger is not always better. thin can be a goal of its own, for myself and for the shiny curved cases i crave. i am going to go for a run, and think about the unbearable lightness of being attracted to air.

the act of burning loss may help me decide if losing my air is reason enough to invest in lightness.