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• 不能沒有你導演

  Monday, Nov 30, 2009 3:58PM / Standard Entry

  
  Video: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vKSbLayHIzo
  

  
  
  
  

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• positive story

  Sunday, Nov 29, 2009 3:40PM / Standard Entry

  Yesterday I came across this inspiring story and I just thought I had to write it down. 
  
  Samuel Herschberger was just three days away before he celebrated his tenth birthday. The boy was however caught in a farm accident when his shirt sleeve got caught in a grinder attached to a tractor. HIs dad Oba was sure he was dead despite having sprinted to help the poor boy. He was pretty sure the mangled mess was not a sight he wanted to see and quite certain he had lost his son.
  
  
  But the sound of a tiny voice imploring for help filled Ola's ears. His son was still alive!
  
  For eighteen hours, eleven doctors worked conscientiously to save the child. No one dared to believe he would survive but the amazing thing was, the child did survive. As you can imagine, the medical bills were enormous and even with help from friends, relatives and the church, the family still struggled.
  
  The Herschbergers had an idea. They decided to host farm style dinners in their home to raise money and word got to the Chicago newspaper that reported on their fund raising efforts which further helped them to raise more money.
  
  
  At one point Ola had to ask the public to stop sending money. He had received so much more abundantly than he had prayed for, for the thirty seven operations that his son had to go through. With the blessings of strangers and people who had compassion, Samuel survived his terrible ordeal and is a fine young man today helping to raise champion draft horses on a farm. His grateful family still welcomes guests for country dinners.
  
  
  I believe it could have been nerve wrecking at every point for this family. To have their dear son embroiled in a bloodied mess was enough grief, but to have him go through operation after operation which they had no idea how they could afford was a second hurdle to overcome. They could have given up at any point but they did not. And it is true that often, we may be angered or provoked by people around us, or even strangers who may have been rude to us. But this is a story that showed compassion and love from people who were not the slightest related nor acquainted and yet, there was humanity and goodness.
  
  
  If someone has hurt you today or caused you to feel that you cannot trust people again, remember that there will always be kindness and compassion around, even in people we've never met. I still have walls but slowly, they are crumbling. Everyday now, I believe God planted the seeds of desire in my heart along with the passions and gifts He has blessed me with. This is the season of increase dear friends, may love and peace be with you!
  
  
  PS. There came a point in my life where I never thought I could trust another human being again. I would have much rather trusted my orange plastic mug than another actual breathing human being. And since I'm a walking barrel of sarcasm, I'd be shooting pellets as my armor and walling myself up with these protective symptoms. You have no idea how many people call me the "icy" chick. And that is ironic because I never used to be like that. I used to be miss friendly from the day I could walk. Haha.:):) As time passes, so we learn and thus the ice melts.
  
  
  Compassion is the basis of morality.-Arnold Schopenhauer
  
  
  
  

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• Amazing doctor.

  Monday, Nov 16, 2009 10:27AM / Standard Entry

  "The truth is ugly but lies aren't any prettier.And the ones in between are pretty ugly. Yes, i made this up, but I'm not dead yet, so quote me later."

  
  

  
  

  Erm yeah that was my facebook status this morning. It sounded like either I had poisoned rhubarb for breakfast or someone stole my hairclip. Honestly, I've had unclassified X files mysteries of missing hairclips since I was 8. Maybe there's a bermuda triangle in my head.

  
  

  
  

  Oh what was I going to say again before my creepy cryptic evil twin took over? Heh. OH. I wanted to tell you a positive story that's by the way true as well. See my mother's operating surgeon and doctor is one of the best doctors in this part of the world. My mother has colon cancer and when I heard about his story, I decided it was too good a chance to miss up on it. I bet you raised some eyebrows when I made this absolutist statement about someone being the "best". Which brings me to a cringeworthy point of wanting to be politically correct for the sakes and interests of missives who are hiding in the bushes and waiting to pelt me with pebbles. My mother's operating surgeon is one of the best in this part of the world. Tsk. 

  
  

  
  

  The man is admirable. Im sure all you Ivy League folks and recipients of post graduate degrees with accolades of praise worthy testimonials from hundreds of professors you've blackmailed are equally amazing. I mean, I have met numerous people who collect degrees as a fashionable hobby. But it's not everyday I meet a doctor who's lauded for having done multiple successful research into new discoveries and potential cures for this sort of cancer that's plaguing millions and robbing lives and happiness. Especially not when the doctor himself was diagnosed with a rarer form of the same disease at age 7. Yes, this dude was told he wouldn't be around to celebrate his 21st much less live to the great fifties in this day. And he IS a celebrated surgeon for intestines.

  
  

  The guy named himself after the ward he had lived in when he was a child. The guy is also a fierce spokesperson for optimism and positivity. His faith is pretty awe inspiring. I mean look if you and I were sick with that rare kind of disease at age 7, would we think decades later we would become presidents and scholarly surgeons? Okay, maybe you would since you are all immaculate and not as frisky as I am. But I'm a humpty dumpty, who got put together again by God.

  
  

  
  

  Oh no. Here comes her God theories.  Yes yes, it's here again. Wheeeeeeeeeeee. 

  
  

  
  

  The man's faith in God did not go untested many times and stages in his life. But his experiences with death and hospitals made him more encouraging,patient and more sympathetic to the fears of his patients. Ever wondered why disease stricken people are also known as "patients?" I used to ponder about that. It seemed most unlikely that patients would be the number one advocates of the virtue, "patience" but here we are calling sick people patients all day. Maybe the hardest thing to do is always the most correct thing to do. And I guess our lovely doctor made it through his dark ages relying on the faith and trust that God will see him through. 

  
  

  
  

  Being a doctor of the same ailment he had suffered is such a typical yet untypical rags to riches story. Except the rags and riches here are not determined by dollars and cents. Not a nickel will save you another breath even if you were an arabian prince. Believing is toughest when the circumstances shake their heads at you. Conceding defeat is ever so much simpler since with zero or minus expectations, no delirious accumulated well of hopes would come crashing down when you don't hope,don't dream don't want.

  
  

  
  

  I was like that. Except my cancer was depression. Only God and my long suffering friends and family knew how difficult it was to rise from the ashes. But as you hear it, you have it. Believing and having faith in a turnaround is always possible. This doctor's story is quite unbelievable. He really commands respect and his engaging ways and cheerful disposition is a relief off that sweaty brow of mine. Knowing my dearest mum-ty dumpty, (sorry mum, couldn't resist) is in safe hands and that is God's hands and further more said doctor's hands is such a safe load off the chest. 

  
  

  
  

  OH it is. Surely now, you forgive me for my unrelenting sarcasm? Oh C'mon. I say "Whirl Peas!"  Ok I mean world peace. Have a great week you Oscar the grouches. What is this resentment towards Mondays anyway? It's Monday uh... say Woo Hoo ....!

  
  

  Doubt is a pain too lonely to know that faith is his twin brother. 
  Kahlil Gibran 
  

  
  

  
  

  
  

  
  

  XOXO
  
  

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• Fleet Foxes rock.

  Saturday, Nov 14, 2009 10:46AM / Standard Entry

  
  

  I like Fleet Foxes. Some music just gets u like that.

  
  

  
  

  There's another band I love, Leader cheetah, they are awesome too.

  
  

  
  

  
  

  I wonder if it comes with each growing day. Sometimes u look back and wonder who u really were, and the "looking back" stage is ALSO part of it. If I could jump into a time machine and change or edit things, I'd never.

  
  

   It's interesting how life pans out for us. I've always been a piano girl, and I played and wrote how I felt about things. But always painfully shy so I could never imagine myself singing. And I realize it was because I feared judgment. To really let go and to be free was something my teacher taught me. Her first lesson with me wasn't about pitch. I scored fullmarks for pitch in a singing competition once years ago. She didn't ask me to start singing a chain of songs ranging in octaves to examine my skill. All she did was say, girl, Let Go. Don't be afraid.

  
  

  
  

  That night she said I had to be honest. When she asked me to turn the lights off to do songwriting, I kindda knew what she was about to do. And I just screamed. I really literally screamed. And screamed. And screamed. And when I was done, I wrote. I realized something. The energy I had pent up within me, the shyness I had was the exact explosiveness she wanted from me.

  
  

  
  

  She kept saying, let the poison out. 

  
  

  
  

  Then the world really started to burst into color. Then it really became possible to be yourself and own yourself. Then it was permissible to dream. And dreams come true. 

  
  

  
  

  
  

  I'm just going to work hard for this record. Thank you Jesus.

  
  

  
  

  
  

  
  

  
  

  
  

  
  Video: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=brZTvGIzeGg&feature=related
  

  
  
  
  

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• patience

  Thursday, Oct 15, 2009 10:38AM / Standard Entry

  t gets terribly confusing at times and very trying. I honestly cannot really justify myself as much as I would like to.
  
  
  Guilty guilty guilty. As charged.
  
  
  She was/ is sick and extremely volatile, but she has never ever been that easy to get along with anyways. Yet, I fell for it. The inability to be more tolerant, more patient, more understanding, more compassionate, less reactive, less angry, less volatile led me on a path of curt, caustic retorts.
  
  
  You see, not just am I splitting image of my mother, I resemble her in other areas. It is almost like a leaf out of another cheesy chick flick movie or another greek tragedy. The mother-daughter tirade.
  
  
  And almost as automatic as always I feel deep remorse, guilt and sorry for having retaliated.
  
  
  I was devastated when she said I caused her to become ill. Amongst many things which I have been responsible for, and cancer being my specialty, I supposed 9/11 was my fault too as well as the forest fires in California, the problems of global warming or human trafficking. Yeah right, I wish I was THAT important.
  
  
  But I know deep down those were taboo lines that had been crossed. It would sink deep heavily into my soul every time I thought of my mother suffering, or her being in pain. I would cringe just knowing it was me who might have erected the memory of irritation,hurt or annoyance to some level that had ledl to her stress in turn leading to her writhing in pain. At times like these, I want to take a cold shower and breathe in logic. I have to be calm to deal with problems especially since people who are sick have every right to be grumpy or unhappy.
  
  But every choice not to be too. I just have to try harder.
  
  
  
  Close your eyes. Pray. Breathe to the calmness and peace within your soul. No matter how tough it is to swallow your pride, it can be done. Your positivity will cheer her up, not your anger.
  
  
  I know at the very core, she was elated for the things that I had worked for. I know that no matter what she was always on my side not against me. I know it would really sadden her if I stopped talking to her. I know I have to dig deep to find genuine sincerity to communicate again. I know I need to improve on being an improvement.
  
  
  
  I need to be more patient.
  
  
  "Have courage for the great sorrows of life and patience for the small ones; and when you have laboriously accomplished your daily task, go to sleep in peace. God is awake."
  -Victor Hugo
  
  
  
  

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