Chatty Lass

 

 

Those were the words I wrote for 2022 as the year before it drew to a close. It meant digging deep and looking hard (within). It meant saying no to certain projects, meetings, jobs offers, and people. It meant learning the importance of fallow time - resting and growing - to produce meaningful work and live a purposeful life.

 

A vase of blooming tulips to brighten the mood, instead of my sutured thumb.

 

 

Home for eight days, thanks to a week-long work shoot. One of my childhood best friends stayed with me throughout and it was probably the longest uninterrupted stretch of time we had together in a decade. We talked, shared, laughed, cried, giggled, dined, and explored - most of all, we created more memories together.

Quality time with one of the dearest persons in my life - my uncle - at a newly opened vegan establishment.

Early birthday lunch treat at one of Asia’s Best restaurants, Gen, by my lovely friend, T.

Years later, he still remembers my favourite baklava picks from my favourite store and had them delivered to my doorstep, even while we are oceans apart.

Made my own birthday cake and I loved every bite.

Birthday morning with the little terror sleeping ever so soundly.

Spoiled with birthday blooms and homemade lemon-blueberry cupcakes (not pictured), thanks to my sweet friend, R.

Perfectly done steak and champagne (fancy!) for Fridates at home (birthday edition) with one of my favourite persons of all time.

One final hurrah for my birthday month and (presciently scheduled) before another lockdown. What a treat it was to have spent it at Nadodi, who recently made the list as one of Asia’s Best restaurants. Three friends, three bottles of wine (and then some), more than three hours of laughter, and nine courses of epic degustations.

Many years ago, before the pandemic that is COVID-19, the poet Khalil Gibran wrote, “Let there be spaces in your togetherness, and let the winds of the heavens dance between you.” The title of the poem may have been On Marriage, but these exquisite words seemed fitting for 2020 and now, 2021.

From a year we felt robbed of and the beginning of another that does not look very much different from the last, may we take heart in knowing that the waiting does not last forever; whilst in the in-between, to “let the winds of heavens dance between [us]” and for those fortunate enough, to “let there be spaces in your togetherness.”

Tulips x Chanel. I cannot think of a better pairing.

A moment of respite after a game of Catch (he is still learning that the concept of the game is actually Fetch; for now, a ball tossed is a ball never returned, usually found tightly clenched between his adorable teeth).

For our first Christmas party at home, I made Garlic-Honey-Butter Roasted Chicken, a mouthful to enunciate but absolutely wonderful to partake (the eponymous marinade spiked with a thimble of white wine lovingly tenderised the meat just so); Caramelised Onions + Mushroom Galette, all of my favourite ingredients atop a pie (crumbly crust enveloped jammy onions and an umami mix of creamy Mascarpone and Parmigiano-Reggiano shavings); Double-Garlic Mashed Potatoes, cloud-like carbs that were as dreamy as can be (infusing the fluffy spuds with bulbs of slow-roasted garlic added a depth of flavour unlike any other, drizzled with ribbons of liquid gold from the roasted chicken just before serving).From ours to yours, we wish you a home overflowing with laughter and shining (ever brightly) with love. Have a very Merry (Early) Christmas!

Dream piece on the wall - a Rothko.

Simple, purposeful accents.

Adopting the philosophy for my workspace - "soulful simplicity" (Beth Kempton).

In his acclaimed show, Mister Rogers’ Neighbourhood, Fred Rogers asked two simple, weighty questions: “Who is my neighbour?” and “How can I care for my neighbour?” They were thought-provoking questions in a time where public kindness was rare, radical kindness unheard of.

For several weeks now, my friends and I have sent food gifts, care packages, and surprise pick-me-ups to each another via delivery services. Home-cooked food, handwritten notes, a Hallmark card, favourite drinks, vegan ice cream, baked and non-baked goodies, and even a whole pomelo arrived at my doorstep (the last one gave me a good laugh). Every single one a reminder that I am cared for and thought about.


Across continents and transcending time zones, communication platforms were utilised to their maximum capacity. Quality time meant FaceTiming over dinner, togetherness took on the form of tiled faces on a Zoom call, and love sounded like overlapping voices on a group WhatsApp call.

The last two months have been unprecedented. Life as we know it seems to have vaporised and our new normal is far from comforting. Pay cuts burgeoning, job losses proliferating. Births and deaths mingle within an inch of the other. Businesses tanking, markets crashing. Racism and xenophobia remain ubiquitous. The most frightening of all? We do not know when this will come to an end. Not how, when. It is humanity’s race against time.

Understandably, in this season, questions abound. Yet, only few are pertinent and relevant. For you reading this, if we do have to ask questions, why not they be the following - “Who is my neighbour?” and “How can I care for my neighbour?” Because, these questions, we have and can be the answers to.

While the questions felt different depending on the circumstances, Rogers’ answers never wavered. “His definition of ‘neighbour’ was whomever you happen to be with at the moment, especially if they are in need,” Amy Hollingsworth, author of The Simple Faith of Mister Rogers, said.

The equation is pretty much foolproof - if somebody cares about you, it is possible that you will care about others (your neighbours). The more people know they are cared for, the less isolated they feel.

May we always remember - our entire existence should be predicated on more than just ourselves, but the measure by which we give of ourselves.

What we choose to put on our plates impacts the world around us. Since last November, I made a conscious decision to adopt a mostly vegetarian lifestyle (ovo-vegetarian at least five days a week; meat only during travels, special occasions, and work events) by consuming primarily plant-based food after reading a book review with these galvanising lines - “We cannot keep the kind of meals we have known and also keep the planet we have known. We must either let some eating habits go or let the planet go. It is as straightforward and as fraught as that.”

Reports from The New York Times Climate desk showed that meat and dairy production alone account for 14.5% of the world’s greenhouse gas emissions - as much each year as from cars, trucks, airplanes, and ships combined; a staggering and deeply concerning statistic. Eventually, my next trip to the bookstore resulted in a search-and-purchase and Jonathan Safran Foer’s compelling We Are The Weather: Saving The Planet Begins At Breakfast changed my view on food forever and reinforced my choice, all the more in the wake of our global environmental crisis.

However, my choice did not come without its set of worries, topping the list are “Will food taste as good with the absence of its meaty counterparts?” and “How will I meet the required daily protein intake?” While I also pondered on my willpower to stick to the cause, something wonderful happened.

Cutting down on meat, seafood, and dairy became a catalyst for newfound creativity in the kitchen. Every Friday night in PJs with a glass of wine in hand, I looked forward to the entire process of scouring the Internet for vegetables-only recipes, tweaking the recipes to suit my tastebuds, curating the coming week’s grocery list, prepping ingredients, cooking, and even cleaning (okay, that might be slightly honeyed - I am still learning to accept, let alone like, washing the dishes). Watching the gradual simmer of dry beans and legumes into hearty stews was surprisingly cathartic; slow-roasting pumpkin cubes doused with olive oil and flecked with sea salt reminded me to slow down and breathe; sautéing onions till they melt into a luscious jammy texture was profoundly simple yet insanely delicious, much like how life can sometimes be.


Whenever I ate out, every bite became meditative - beginning with a studious examination of how each component is arranged, followed by a slow savour of flavours and textures, and finally, a heartfelt appreciation for the hands that prepared the food. As the weeks went by, knowing exactly what I put into my body became a form of self-love, a crucial realisation as I age (in what I can only hope will be gracefully).

Far from being a proselyte of healthy eating - I still love my sugary treats (fruits are never quite enough to stave off cravings for ice cream or chocolates) - what I know and believe is this: if we can all do a little something to make the planet a little better, then we must. As the book’s sub-headline suggests, saving the planet begins at breakfast.

What a year it has been... I knew, going in, it would hold plenty, but never would I have imagined it would be this much.

In the span of twelve months - I turned 30, celebrated my third anniversary as a freelance travel writer, clocked in a promotion at my day job, fielded several enticing job offers, and eventually decided on one just several weeks ago. In the midst of the hustle and bustle from juggling two wholly consuming yet incredibly rewarding careers, I also racked up some 30,000 miles of travel, which included fulfilling a dream ten years in the making - by way of a solo trip to Morocco and across the Sahara.

2019 has been a year of grateful gains, but also one of painful losses. It was 12 months of resolute strength and absolute courage. It was 365 days of daily decisions to love and care, hope and dream, stand and soar. Safe to say, it has been a whirlwind of adventures and challenges.

Reflecting, journaling, and writing has always been a form of liturgy for me; a way to make peace, practice gratitude, and plan ahead. Here are some of the lessons gleaned from the year that was:

• Change. Or, stay the same.

It is one or the other. You can’t have both. I hope you have the courage to change - to live the life you have always dreamed of, to live the life you are proud of. Adventure is a currency we can all trade in, so long as we are willing to get uncomfortable every now and again.

• Creativity is contagious. 

In a world dominated by distrust and disconnect, creativity matters now, more than ever. Choose the right environment to be in. Surround yourself with the right people. Create new work daily, even if it will never see the light of day. Most importantly, create for you. It could save you, and in that, change the world.

• Everything is urgent. Not everything is important.

There were days when my eyes were fixed and my fingers glued to my MacBook, up to 30 minutes before take-off. There were days when I went to bed at 3:00am and woke up less than three hours later to catch a flight, zipping to the office the second I landed. Everyone wants something right now, precisely at this moment. Learning to distinguish what is important and what is not has been one of the most pivotal lessons. It is the difference between being busy and having purpose.

• Experiences are hard-earned.

Never despise them. Never belittle their value. Never stop craving for them. Adversities will strengthen your base. Challenges will test your foundation. Don’t shun it, embrace it. They define a person and add depth to one’s character. Over and again, people whom I have met with interesting stories and meaningful careers never had a linear path. Which stands as a reminder to us all - if things are ever easy, then they are not worth having in the very first place.

• Not everyone has the same heart as you.

Thirty years on, I am still learning this, most of the time (unfortunately) through hard lessons.

Like you, there is still much I yearn for. Like you, I am also in a season of waiting. Like you, I do not know how much longer I have to wait for my miracle.

The meantime, the in-between, the if-it-ever-will... The restlessness and the anxiousness... How I know them, all too well. Just remember, in all of it, you are not alone. As one door closes, another will open. And just maybe, when it does, everything else will make sense.

Here's to a new decade of fulfilled dreams, large-than-life adventures, and extraordinary joy. Happy New Year!

I am writing this piece inside a lovely cafe in Zurich; tucked away from the biting cold, while my eyes rivet to the foggy lake every so often. It is the most wonderful place to write from and it seemed right to reflect on all the year has been.

2018 has been a year of embracing the new (job promotion in a different industry) and strengthening the old (ideas are still king, only the methods to demonstrate them have enlarged). A year of growing fresh and going deeper.

Naturally, the wildly amazing 2018 came with a few lessons and here are the invaluable ones:

Make change your best friend.

Show up. And, be durable.

Your story will only be as interesting as you.

Write when you have something to say.

It's a bad day, not a bad life.

Learn to tune out the noise.

Be thankful, always.

He knows how much I love stories and graciously endows me with an affinity for words to craft them, which I first treated as a hobby. I never expected it to be anything more. As it turns out, my pastime blossomed to become my profession, my passion, and in recent days, my calling. I pursue it relentlessly; sometimes failing, but ever forward.

Beyond sharing the stories of others (which, in itself, already evokes so much joy), He then gives me my own. Every work promotion came with a God-weaved story, each more wonderful than before. This most recent, straight-out-of-heaven one is a dear favourite.

Here I am, catching a breather and incredibly excited for the next chapter to unfold. He writes the most beautiful stories, and I know, without a shred of doubt, He is writing mine.

Dear 19-Year-Old Me,

ON SELF-IMAGE

ON CAREER

ON LOVE

ON DREAMS

The year has been far from perfect, but it is (to date) the best year I’ve had in a long time.

The leap of faith I boldly took at the end of last year led me on a journey from fearful to fearless this year. What made the year exceptional isn’t imputed to the happenstances; amazing as they were, were only icing on the cake. Rather, it was the choice I made from the onset of the year - to come back to me, for me, and not anyone else.

It may sound romanticised and pollyannaish, but I assure you, it took more courage than anything else I’ve ever done. Because, for the first time in forever, I sought to put myself first - my dreams, my heart, my soul.

I discovered that a few practical decisions tremendously changed the way I journeyed, for the better. Like all good things, they are meant to be shared. Here’s hoping that in one way or another, they might help you too.

1. Learn to embrace every season.

Choose to see the good in every day, regardless of what the day was like.

It is a conscious decision to find joy in the midst of deadlines, drama, and daily duties. It is a pledged commitment to choose to keep that joy when days are long, gritty, and hard.

It didn’t take me long to realise that having an attitude of gratitude in any circumstance is what changes the circumstance.

2. Have a daily ‘Me’ time

This is directly linked to #1. Often times, we miss out on the wins (however small they might seem to be) in life because we are always caught in a flurry of things. There will always be something which needs your attention - a WhatsApp message, an email, a phone call, a Facebook notification, so on and so forth.

In your busy-ness, remember you. You are important. You are not defined by what you do. Most importantly, you only have one soul - stop to listen to it, be kind to it, love it well.

I was resolute in having a daily ‘Me’ time, so I resorted to switching off my phone at an allotted time and in that silence, I journaled. It soon became one of my most cherished parts of the day.

3. Know when to hold on, and when to let go.  

How He has enlarged my heart to have radical faith in Him is one of His most precious gifts to me in this season. In my walk with Him, I've inexplicably learned to hold on to faith, and to let go in faith; knowing full well that He will work all things out together for good for those who love Him.

4. Release yourself from ‘their’ expectations.

Their = Society, your circle of friends, a curious relative who loves to boast about his poster child, the aunty across the road, and at times, your parents.

It’s amazing how some people function - thinking it’s acceptable to send me a barrage of questions for the purposes of prying my life apart (which apparently makes good gossip material) and expect a full report on it from me. Unbelievable.

Know that “No” is a complete answer, and no explanation is owed regarding your personal or professional life choices to any person, other than God.

5. Build your life, inside out.

Create a life that feels good on the inside, instead of a life that looks good on the outside.

The admiration (or envy) of others will do nothing in making you feel good. Life is good when you feel good about it.

Coming to terms with the truth that I do not require validation from anyone else, except my Saviour’s, was enormously freeing. It changed how I did life, for the better.

6. Be intentional.

One of my greatest takeaways from high school is my alma mater’s motto, Aut Viam Inveniam Aut Faciam, Latin for if there is a will, there is always a way.

Now, years later, the line I grudgingly recited and sang every Monday at assembly became a banner over my life.

I discovered the power of intent when I was on a month’s break from a full-time job. My days were without a rigid schedule; which meant that I had the luxury of meandering and doing absolutely nothing, or pick up passion projects and immerse in them. I chose the latter and I couldn’t be more thankful for my decision.

Look at the words of King Solomon, the wisest man who ever lived:

Because of it, I embarked on a journey to my most fulfilling season in life (thus far). More on that in #7.

7. Do what you love, love what you do.

I am a firm believer in having a job that fills your pockets, and taking on passion projects that fill your soul. It takes both to produce a well-rounded, wholesome individual with a healthy outlook on life.

As someone who considers herself as a creative person (with a 1.5 year stint in the ad industry), but also has bills to pay, I know I can't realistically abandon my 9-7 job in order to write full-time right now, even though writing is something I love.

So, I did the next best thing - I made it happen by doing what I love after hours.

I poured myself into creating and crafting when I got home, on weekends, whenever there was any free time. And, it paid off. My little space is one of my proudest achievements, and I haven’t looked back since. From writing and photographing my own travel pieces, to designing artworks, and editing a book (!!!), all while giving 200% to my career, this year has been one which has creatively stretched me beyond my wildest dreams, and I’ve loved every moment of it.

1. It teaches me about life, in the flesh.  

2. It makes me feel alive. 

3. It never is about me.

Waited patiently for more than 10 mins in the sweltering heat to get an unobstructed shot of the White Temple.

4. It adds to my value as a person.

5. It keeps me in childlike wonder. 

• Wander Woman - 5 Things My First Solo Trip Taught Me