On destiny and choice

I'm not sure if it's because my life has been so far reasonably smooth or I've got a strong sense of destiny, I don't believe in a wrong choice. I mean, if there's a master plan for each one of us (though not a Christian version of master plan I'm referring to), there's not much room for free will and thus a wrong decision. I know it's irrational, coz somehow I do believe in free will as well (what's the point of living if we're just acting out what's prescribed). It's one of the irrationalities that lies within me that I don't want to challenge.

At one point, the sense of destiny pulls me through adversities and cushions my ego against failures. At another, I want to believe that I do choose my life to protect my dignity and superiority of having a free will. Afterall, I myself construct my own religion and I don't mind the contrast or imperfection embedded in it.

Like everyone else, sometimes I do ponder on the alternative track of life. I mean, the if-version of a parallel life. But deep down I know I don't believe in that: something is meant to happen; something isn't.

That's why human desicion-making can be a science - even making a choice between CocaCola and Pepsi at a supermarket involves complicated information processing activates different areas of the brain pre-wired with past experience and beliefs.

Very often, choices come as packages like those gift bags in a cosmetics shop, just that you can't buy each item separately at a higher price (all or nothing!) and that you can only buy one package. And a package choice is more difficult to make. You have to weigh the packages both item by item and as a whole. And when affection intertwines with aspiration and materials, it's even harder.

The stupid thing is, even though I don't believe in a wrong choice, I am afraid of making one. When I detach myself and view my life from a distance, I can see the plan. But now that I'm at the crossroads, the fear and frustration is so real.

There're both destiny and choice, and one leads to the other. Together they form an upward spiral of life.

At this moment I'm lingering at the crossroads, at the same time weighing packages and waiting for signs of a turning point.

A dish of random thoughts

RSPCA Open Day

It looks so silly!

A late afternoon at St Kilda

The sea was sparkling blue.

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Is it cool to claim oneself less of what they are? Or is it a better way to belittle others by belittling oneself?

There are more and more extroverts or sociable people announcing to me that they’re actually sorta loners and quiet and not being able to handle social situations and people very well. And, did I mention that they say it to me?

It’s like a size 0 telling a size 8 that she’s too fat for that pair of skinny jeans, that her thighs look huge, and that she no doubt has to be on diet despite the fact that she pecks on her food.

Does it make people feel more superior to be the most sociable among those social handicaps? It’s the category of personality I find shelter in and now those extroverts and the sociable retreat themselves there and drive me to the peripheral of that shelter. So what am I now?

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I’ve long passed the phase of life in which new social ties blossom and entered a socially dormant phase in which the rate of coming across familiar faces surpasses the rate of meeting new people. To put it simply, I’m now recycling people in my life. And the interesting thing is, those who somehow pop into my life again are always those who sorta pursue me. It happens so often that I'm convinced it's hardly coincidence. I’m not being cynical but just a bit curious: did they not see me when we first met? Or we’re now the remaining singletons in the ever-shrinking dating game and so I’m more visible?

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The more I’m in a hospital setting, the more I feel blessed for being physically, mentally and intellectually normal. There’re just so many things that can go wrong.

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I experienced the first earthquake here in Melbourne just a week ago. It measured 4.6 on the Richter scale though there’re no reports of damage or causalities. The house wobbled for seconds while my mind was still comprehending the situation. Never did I expect an earthquake in Australia. My post-hoc shock has shown me how unprepared I, a city dweller who has been living a blessed life in the middle of the Eurasian plate, am to this sort of natural disaster. Luckily, it came no more than a rocking sensation.

oh...just when I'm blogging on this, another aftershock struck. The house rocked for a couple of seconds. A 4.5 this time...

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I've never imagined that my limited Mandarin has come in handy to me in my placement. With quite a number of Mandarin-speaking clients who speak limited English, I've sorta become a language aid (not really an interpreter as there's interpreter service at the hospital but then I can still help here and there) when it comes to assessment, diagnostic interviews and feedback to caregivers. My supervisor came to believe that I'm a fluent Mandarin speaker but deep down I just know how crappy my Mandarin is. Now I'll try to work on my Mandarin when I know a Mandarin-speaking client is coming in.