Sydney!!!

Bloody hell!
Sydney,

This morning I would be in Sydney. You know, Harbour Bridge, Opera House, a place with as many opportunities as redback (the spider)... it held a certain magical status in my mind. Sometimes I have to check myself. I never dreamed I would make it out here.

But first I had to get there, chauffeured to the airport that morning by, you guessed it, yet another relaxed, intelligent and friendly Aussie driver. We discussed all sorts on the forty-minute drive to Avalon airport, and he even got in the odd friendly dig about the Bloody Poms.

"The only reason Australia should stay in the Commonwealth is because they win all the medals at the Commonwealth Games," he quipped.
"Aiseh," I sneezed in reply.

A little kid wailing his lungs out throughout marred the flight. Poor little bugger; someone's not going to grow up wanting to be a pilot, I thought.

I arrived at 9am, and the airport was pretty much deserted. All the shuttle buses had packed up for the morning, so we begrudgingly set out to the taxi stand. Luckily as I approached and bumped into a couple of Belgian Flemish backpackers going our way, so we all jumped in and took a short ride to our area of choice, King's Cross.

It was a cheap backpacker area, mainly because it doubled up as the red light district, but conveniently located within fifteen minutes' walk of the centre. We grabbed a place to lay our heads in the Germanic-sounding Eva's Backpackers and prepared ourselves for the delectable harbour sights we'd be seeing tomorrow.

Stanly

Getting Kilda by Tram

Melbourne, Australia

When I arrived in Melbourne, I found it incredibly disturbing to be sharing the same road with those metal thundering beasts known as trams, and find it a miracle I never parked the hire car into one if I hired one. To avoid such unhappy marriages they have a special maneuver called a 'hook turn'. Completely contradicting all driving logic

So I was far happier to appreciate the trams on foot and as a passenger. Melbourne transport is integrated, so a day ticket allowed me to travel any bus, tram or train within the central zones. I took a tram today down to St Kilda, Melbourne's seaside resort. It was a pleasant sunny day, although a blustery cold wind was whipping off the sea as I walked the beachfront and passed Luna Park, a delightful 50's-style theme park complete with rickety rollercoaster.

As I walking along the beach, someone actually approached me kite surfing. At first I was not so sure and keen to take it up but then since I’m here with my bermuda pants and rush-guard so might as well. My initial plan was just swimming

Kite surfing or kiteboarding is a surface water sport that uses the wind to pull a rider through the water on a small surfboard or a kiteboard (similar to a wakeboard). It’s different concept between the real surfing and kitesurfing. Generally kiteboarding refers to a style of riding known as freestyle or wake-style, whereas kitesurfing is more "wave-riding" oriented.

For 75 Australia dollars, you simply get yourself an instructor to teach you how to surf. Approx 20-30min then you can enjoy kitesurfing on your own for 2 hours. Believe me it’s not hard and it’s not that easy to control your kite as well and the water is freaking cold!!

That evening I met Clarkson, a friend that I met along the way after work and we went for a drink with his other second cousin, Sarah, who was studying Art. Cue many obvious gags about Art Festivals,
Art Galleries and so on. She was a highly switched-on girl and the conversation turned to talk of the interpretation and meaning of Art. In a lighter moment, Sarah told me I was a dead ringer for her ex-flat mate.

I kept with the routine of meeting up with Clarkson after he'd finished feigning work the next day. Every time he would ask me what joyous things, I had been up to. Every time I would sheepishly tell him "nothing". Many hours today were spent writing my scrawling.

This travel log really is a labor of love at times - I had all but abandoned work on it when I reached here 2 days ago - but I was clawing my way back.

Stanly

Our Deepest Fear

 

I am. Being is. The Way is not an intellectual understanding.

Fortunately or unfortunately, I frequently feel very jailed within this body/mind and karmically conditioned self. All through childhood, I’ve been rather alone whether I realized it or not. I vaguely recall a moment of staring at my cousins laughing and being silly, and I was thinking “I can’t talk with them, because they can’t talk with me.” They were too young and unconscious. However, this is still my projection of most people in this world. I take my conscious awareness so very seriously, but cannot seem to share in such consciousness, nor open aware presence with nearly anyone. I am often aware, but still longing for very deep intimate connection with a significant other. I want an aware and open exploration of relationship, like an improvisational dance for a lifetime. The choreography is all ours. Sadly, lamentably, none of my relationships have gotten this deep. They got scared, they don’t dance like that.
There’s a massive conscious/unconscious gap that most people don’t seem to even see. This isn’t much of an assumption either! This gap is the difference between being giddy after seeing a movie you just enjoyed in the theater and experiencing the radiant energetic presence during and after resting in alive, aware, spacious being in meditation. If you’ve experienced both, then you know that not only are they so very different experiences, they are also “not two!” So, herein lies the typically non-understandable aspect: non-dual being is all being. The energy of living is within all our lives at every moment. We’re already dancing through our lives. Let’s be with one another, let’s lay here together, why are we missing this vital connection?

When I have conversations with others, I easily get caught up in (attached with) the things, thoughts, and stuff. At work, I may be grumbling and annoyed by the stifled workflow or pressures of expectation piled onto the situations. At home, trying to return to peaceful presence by letting go of and attending to the pained and suffering bodily, emotional, and mental bodies, I am often alone. This is healing work that most people in my life don’t understand and can’t seem to embrace with acceptance and peace. Often, what I hear from others is some version of “why aren’t you responding or attending to me or my concerns?” Maybe I need to reply with “I am working on healing myself so that I may attend to you too with authentic care.”

Life isn’t so much about doing, but about truly being in our living. I say “our” because there isn’t any separation. I emphasize “being” over doing because everything is changing (and clinging to action/activity is no different than any other egotistic stronghold) . And I use the word “truly” because everything is naturally empty. When we’ve gapped from identified borrowed consciousness to spacious conscious awareness, then we are truly seeing. As Krishnamurti said, “the seeing is the doing.” You do change (immeasurable by “time”) when you’ve seen and continue practicing seeing. This is the subtle, yet profound difference between common consciousness and conscious awareness. So, “I am healing with awareness bathing me in the truth.” I am changing, which means I am more Wayward. May egocentric karmic conditioning recede and fade away.

Thank you for your presence in reading, in “being with,” as I like to say.

I watched the movie, “Coach Carter” last night. There is a great quote near the end of the movie. I found it online on a site that talks about the movie. But I wondered where the quote came from. I did some more searching and found that the quote is from a book by a lady named, Marianne Williamson. I have not read her book, but the quote is terrific!

The quote in the movie was very inspiring

Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness, that most frightens us. Your playing small does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won’t feel insecure around you. We are all meant to shine as children do. It’s not just in some of us, it is in everyone. And as we let our own lights shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.

10 simple ways to save yourself from messing up your life

• Stop taking so much notice of how you feel. How you feel is how you feel. It’ll pass soon. What you’re thinking is what you’re thinking. It’ll go too. Tell yourself that whatever you feel, you feel; whatever you think, you think. Since you can’t stop yourself thinking, or prevent emotions from arising in your mind, it makes no sense to be proud or ashamed of either. You didn’t cause them. Only your actions are directly under your control. They’re the only proper cause of pleasure or shame.
• 
• Let go of worrying. It often makes things worse. The more you think about something bad, the more likely it is to happen. When you’re hair-trigger primed to notice the first sign of trouble, you’ll surely find something close enough to convince yourself it’s come.
•  

• Ease up on the internal life commentary. If you want to be happy, stop telling yourself you’re miserable. People are always telling themselves how they feel, what they’re thinking, what others feel about them, what this or that event really means. Most of it’s imagination. The rest is equal parts lies and misunderstandings. You have only the most limited understanding of what others feel about you. Usually they’re no better informed on the subject; and they care about it far less than you do. You have no way of knowing what this or that event really means. Whatever you tell yourself will be make-believe.
•  
• Take no notice of your inner critic. Judging yourself is pointless. Judging others is half-witted. Whatever you achieve, someone else will always do better. However bad you are, others are worse. Since you can tell neither what’s best nor what’s worst, how can you place yourself correctly between them? Judging others is foolish since you cannot know all the facts, cannot create a reliable or objective scale, have no means of knowing whether your criteria match anyone else’s, and cannot have more than a limited and extremely partial view of the other person. Who cares about your opinion anyway?
•  
• Give up on feeling guilty. Guilt changes nothing. It may make you feel you’re accepting responsibility, but it can’t produce anything new in your life. If you feel guilty about something you’ve done, either do something to put it right or accept you screwed up and try not to do so again. Then let it go. If you’re feeling guilty about what someone else did, see a psychiatrist. That’s insane.
• 
• Stop being concerned what the rest of the world says about you. Nasty people can’t make you mad. Nice people can’t make you happy. Events or people are simply events or people. They can’t make you anything. You have to do that for yourself. Whatever emotions arise in you as a result of external events, they’re powerless until you pick them up and decide to act on them. Besides, most people are far too busy thinking about themselves (and worry what you are are thinking and saying about them) to be concerned about you.
•  
• Stop keeping score. Numbers are just numbers. They don’t have mystical powers. Because something is expressed as a number, a ratio or any other numerical pattern doesn’t mean it’s true. Plenty of lovingly calculated business indicators are irrelevant, gibberish, nonsensical, or just plain wrong. If you don’t understand it, or it’s telling you something bizarre, ignore it. There’s nothing scientific about relying on false data. Nor anything useful about charting your life by numbers that were silly in the first place.
•  
• Don’t be concerned that your life and career aren’t working out the way you planned. The closer you stick to any plan, the quicker you’ll go wrong. The world changes constantly. However carefully you analyzed the situation when you made the plan, if it’s more than a few days old, things will already be different. After a month, they’ll be very different. After a year, virtually nothing will be the same as it was when you started. Planning is only useful as a discipline to force people to think carefully about what they know and what they don’t. Once you start, throw the plan away and keep your eyes on reality.
•  
• Don’t let others use you to avoid being responsible for their own decisions. To hold yourself responsible for someone else’s success and happiness demeans them and proves you’ve lost the plot. It’s their life. They have to live it. You can’t do it for them; nor can you stop them from messing it up if they’re determined to do so. The job of a supervisor is to help and supervise. Only control-freaks and some others with a less serious mental disability fail to understand this.
• 
• Don’t worry about about your personality. You don’t really have one. Personality, like ego, is a concept invented by your mind. It doesn’t exist in the real world. Personality is a word for the general impression that you give through your words and actions. If your personality isn’t likeable today, don’t worry. You can always change it, so long as you allow yourself to do so. What fixes someone’s personality in one place is a determined effort on their part—usually through continually telling themselves they’re this or that kind of person and acting on what they say. If you don’t like the way you are, make yourself different. You’re the only person who’s standing in your way.

What if…

 

What if I forget the words when I stand up there? What if I go completely blank? What if I totally suck? What if I look or sound stupid?  What if they hate me? What if I’m not pretty enough? Cool enough? Smart enough? Qualified enough? Experienced enough? Talented enough? Thin enough? What if they see through my act? What if they discover what I’m really like? What if they find out about my issues? Or my history? What if the course is too difficult for me? What if I do what Craig suggests and it doesn’t work? Or what if it does work and then I lose motivation and focus? Surely I’m too old to start something new anyway? Or too inexperienced to establish my own business? Perhaps I’m past learning new things and developing new skills? Surely I won’t fit in, will I? What if I get all excited like I always do and then fail again? What if I disappoint people again? Hmm, perhaps I need a little more time to plan and think about this.

Which is code for “I’m too scared to do anything, so I’ll do nothing”.

Again.

Self doubt it’s a disease that doesn’t discriminate. It affects our mind, our emotions and even our physiology. It’s multi-dimensional and if you let it, it will destroy your opportunities, waste your potential, ruin your relationships, infect your thinking, crush your hope and at its worst, ruin your life. It’s not concerned with race, religion, age, skin colour, past achievements, social standing, sex, talent, IQ or bank balance and it knows where you live.

For many of us, self doubt comes knocking on our door every day. Sometimes it will give an apologetic, sorry-to-bother-you kind of tap, and on other occasions it will almost smash the door down with it’s incessant and violent banging. More often than not, it will arrive disguised as something much more noble like concern, logic or reason but in reality, it’s none of those things. It’s just fear in a different outfit. Self-doubt with a little make-up and a pretty dress. Don’t be fooled, she’s a bitch and despite the charade, she doesn’t care about you at all.

That’s all self doubt is by the way, one of the many faces of fear. Fear of failure, fear of rejection, fear of public humiliation, fear of getting uncomfortable, fear of the unknown, fear of poverty, fear of isolation and even fear of success. Like all forms of fear, self-doubt is essentially self-created and perpetuated because it can only exist in our head. In order for it to survive, we must give it a place to live. And we do.

In the pursuit of our best life, our challenge is not to overcome self-doubt but rather, to manage it. To recognise it for what it is (a form of fear), to feel it, acknowledge it and then do what we need to do (to reach our goals), DESPITE it.

“Recognising, feeling and acknowledging self-doubt, does not mean being controlled or determined by it.”

Of course, over time we will find a way to turn down the volume (of the banging on the door), but a life totally devoid of self-doubt is an unrealistic goal. People who succeed (no matter what the endeavour) invariably find a way to do what they need to do, despite their self-doubt. They are aware of it and they are challenged by it, but they are not controlled or determined by it. Self doubt is universal and it is an unavoidable part of the human experience. For life. None of us are exempt. If you doubt yourself often, don’t feel weak or flawed, feel human. Feel alive. Feel normal. If self-doubt is a sign of weakness then I’m a big pussy.

The questions we should ask ourselves in relation to this chat are not:

“Do I ever experience self-doubt?”

But rather:

1. “What impact do I allow self-doubt to have on my decisions, behaviours and results?”

and…

2. “Do I manage it, or does it manage me?”

If you came here today looking for a solution, then walk to the bathroom and look in the mirror there’s your solution. Even if you don’t know it or feel like it, let me tell you that no book, blog, idea, program, CD, DVD or guru will change you. No, that’s your job. Those resources (that’s all they are) can stimulate, inspire, educate, challenge, provoke and encourage you, but only you can change your current reality and only you can build your best life. That’s why this my write up is not a solution but rather a humble resource.

Do what you need to and stop looking for the magic pill.

My breast tumours

By LUKE TEOH (TheStar)

A man recalls his traumatic experience of having growths in both breasts.

I RETURNED home from an extremely cold, wintry holiday in Melbourne in July. A few days later, I had some pain on my right breast. I thought nothing of it as I felt the pain might have been brought on due to a change of weather from the extreme cold in Melbourne to the stifling heat back home.

However, the pain persisted for a week, so I went to the doctor’s. The GP examined my breast and told me not to worry about it. He told me that a course of antibiotics would clear it off.

After the antibiotics had run its course, there was still the persistent, gnawing pain, but I continued to think nothing of it as it was bearable and I felt fine. I was able to continue playing tennis.

However, one evening when I web-searched the Internet for “pain in the breast of men”, two words, “cancer” and “carcinoma” came popping up frequently in my search. The words really struck fear in me. That really got me petrified and worried. I had a terrible, restless night.

Before Teoh underwent the operation.

The next day, I could not wait to go to another doctor where I knew the GP had a scanner. When he scanned my right breast, he said that there was a small growth in it. He further said that he did not like the look of the growth as it had cilia-like protuberances. He advised me that I should have a biopsy done by a surgeon. I immediately agreed to his advice as the terrifying words “cancer” and “carcinoma” popped in my mind, again.

The doctor measured the size of the mysterious growth on the monitor and then had the picture printed out. He then wrote out the referral letter to a surgeon and attached the picture on it.

I left the doctor in a state of shock. How could it happen to me? A man, with the possibility of having breast cancer? I imagined I had it already and felt like a dead man walking!

On reaching home, however, I began to go into a state of denial. I imagined that the cyst had shrunk and the pain was subsiding. I kept postponing going to the surgeon’s for the next three weeks. I was still able to play tennis but with a heavy load on my mind.

A day after the operation.

My moods began to fluctuate. One moment, I felt terrible, and the next, all right. One of my darkest moments occured when I searched the web for “breast cancer in men”. I came across this sentence: “Men usually ignore the early signs of breast cancer and leave it too late before seeking medical treatment”, which immediately got me scooting to the surgeon’s.

After waiting for some time with much trepidation at the surgeon’s, as there were a lot of patients, it was finally my turn to be seen by the specialist. He examined and then scanned my right breast.

Turning to me, he said, “I’d be worried if the growth is seen in a woman,” which gave me a bit of hope and I felt a tinge of relief.

He continued: “We better check the left breast, too.”

After doing the examination and scanning of the left breast, he said “There’ a smaller growth here. We’ll do a small-needle biopsy on the left breast and a large-needle one on the right. Could you wait outside while we prepare everything in the treatment room?”

Surprisingly, I was quite calm while I waited for the biopsies to be done, as the surgeon had given me the confidence that he knew what he was doing compared to the first GP I had consulted.

The procedure to extract a few pieces of the growth from my right breast was extremely painful. I had to grit my teeth and clench my hands tightly to the sides of the operating table to withstand the excruciating pain as the anaesthetic was being injected into my breast through the nipple each time. With tears in my eyes, I forced myself to see the liquid slowly spreading into the tumour on the monitor. Then the surgeon told me to turn away from the monitor as he did the actual apposition of the bits of the tumour for biopsy.

Everything was repeated with the left breast, too.

I was told to return for the result of the biopsies in five days. I came away from the surgeon’s feeling quite relaxed as the surgeon had a fantastic, reassuring bedside manner.

As I was being driven to the clinic on the appointed day for the result of the biopsies, I was extremely quiet as I felt I was leaving on a hearse for my funeral. When it was my turn to see the specialist at the surgeon’s, my walk into the consultation room felt like the steps of a condemned man walking to his execution.

A week after the operation.

I broke out in a cold sweat as I sat by the side of, and, then facing the surgeon. When he uttered the magical words, “Benign, non-maglignant”, I could feel relief and happiness instantly oozing through every part of my body and spontaneously, I could not help but grasp his left hand for bringing me the great, comforting news.

He then told me that the growths needed to be taken out. I readily agreed and I was scheduled to be operated on under general anaesthetics at a private hospital in a week’s time. I came from the surgeon’s feeling like a man being given a new lease of life. I felt like having been resurrected, rescued from sure-death.

A week later, I underwent the operation. I had a subcutaneous mastectomy done on me and I was discharged from the private hospital after a day-stay.

I received the histology report a few days’ later. It says: Trucut right benign. No other pathology or evidence of malignancy is seen. Bilateral gynaecomastia.

Well, it turned out that the first GP that I had consulted, was correct after all. He had said that there was nothing to be worried about.

However, from the onset of the problem, I was worried sick. I suffered bouts of depression and sudden short spells of weeping when I was alone. I told no one about the problem. Neither my wife nor my children knew anything about it at the beginning. I did not wish them to suffer my pain as my wife had first endured the suffering and eventual death of her mother from breast cancer and then later saw her step-mother suffering the same fate, too. I decided to tell my loved ones only after the result of the biopsies was known.

However, I wrote about it, but in the third person, and emailed to my email groups. I found that by doing it this way – telling the whole world in cyberspace – anonymously in the third person – had been rather cathartic to me. I was comforted when a few members of my e-groups wrote in to comfort or offer prayers for “my friend” who was suffering pain.

After removal of the bandages

Unfortunately, one of my e-group members from Canada told my elder daughter about my impending operation. She immediately phoned frantically home but I was out. She got her mother, instead, who knew practically nothing about it as I had decided earlier only to tell her everything only after the operation.

I got a real shelling from my wife for keeping quiet when I returned home. I immediately pacified and reassurred her. I told her to keep mum about it to her brother and her younger sister as I would wait two days before the operation to tell them about it. I did not want them to worry and come rushing home.

I am relieved and thank the Lord for helping me survive this terrible problem. I was most fortunate to have found a great surgeon who gave me peace of mind while I was being treated. I am thankful to my email friends who knew about “my friend’s problem” for their prayers and good wishes for a speedy recovery.

I feel blessed to have a strong, supportive wife and three wonderful, filial children. I am humbled by the traumatic experience and am now able to look at life with a better and clearer perspective.

The experience has made me stronger and more caring.

I was totally and completely traumatised by the experience. I felt stigmatised as I imagined I was a possible sufferer of an ailment mostly suffered by women. The stigma of having breast cancer haunted me for more than two months.

I can now tell the whole world as I am now alright.

My breast tumours

My breast tumours

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