Yesterday, Today & Facenoting

Years ago, I thought about writing a book. A series of reflections to be exact. This book would be entitled: "Things I wish my father had taught me". It would detail the lessons I learnt in life...many the hard way. Even though I would dedicate this book to my children and their children, it would be insightful reading for all.

I still hold on to this ambition even though it has since taken a different shape.

See, like the rest of you, I have a story to tell. As Eminem had rapped in Not Afraid: "I guess I had to go to that place to get to this one ". We are all where we are today because of where we were yesterday.

Mathematically speaking, consider the following formula: F(X) = Y where X=Yesterday and Y=Today. Unravelling this function is helpful both for oneself and others. That which worked yesterday may be applied to ensure it continues to work today. That which failed yesterday may be avoided or adapted to ensure it works today.

Here's an instance of this function at play in my life:

Yesterday, I was a teeth-gnashing gangly boy, whose favourite colour was black, who walked with his nose in the air, chest pumped out, a quick gait, arms that swung wildly to the back, and haughty eyes that were constantly on the lookout for a confrontation. I loved heavy metal music from Bon Jovi, Def Leppard, Skid Row, Metallica, Iron Maiden. My all-time favourite band was Guns 'N' Roses and I idolised lead singer Axel. Always wearing oversized clothes, I felt the need to constantly convey the message that I will not fit in. I boldly proclaimed myself invincible, felt I was rarely at fault and thought that I knew everything.









Yesterday



Some time back, a secondary school friend posted the above photo on Facebook. I had long forgotten this photo, and I let out the average of a cringe, groan, gasp and a shudder when I saw this photo. Any wonder why Facebook still makes people nervous?

                       

Those were the days when I wore a size 44 shirt, sleeves falling past the elbow, hem tucked in but pulled out, back more than the front...But hang on! Not so much that it should cover the much cherished burnt-orange rat-tail comb, nesting securely in the back pocket. I ditched the standard straight-cut trousers sold at the school bookshop. I got mine tailored - pleated, hem width so narrow that the feet could barely manage through, and baggy enough so that they puffed in the wind. We used to joke that the ideal pair of trousers could fit 10 chickens. The only accessory I still find cool up to today was the pair of North Star high-cut canvas shoes. Of course, I would have preferred Converse, but that was beyond budget. A tie if worn, was always hung loosely around the neck. It had been a dream of mine to don the centre-parted curtain hairstyle that flopped over the eyes and that could be coolly flicked with a wave of the hand. Very very sadly, the hair that I had was as stubborn as the person that I was, and had refused to heed the commands of my rat-tail comb even with the assistance of Wella Straight.

               

If I were to tell you that the saying "Clothes Maketh a Man" holds water, it wouldn't be too difficult for you to imagine the man that I was then.

                                            

Today, while there are aspects of my person that have not changed, by and large, I have mellowed into a man who chooses to walk with a slight bow and keep his feet firmly implanted on the ground. A measured pace helps keep my spirit alert and my thoughts in control. My eyes are constantly on the lookout for the underdog. As far as possible, and as much as it depends on me, I work towards living in peace with all. With each day that passes, I am thankful that this fragile jar of clay gets to see another. When self-righteousness comes knocking at the door, I keep him out by reminding myself of the many flaws I had and still have to cope with. Before I even start to think that I have all the answers, I remind myself that this universe is just far too vast for me to ever comprehend all there is to know of it. All I seek for is a minuscule amount of this knowledge resting in the comfort of simply having known more today than what I knew yesterday, and using this knowledge to be better today than what I was yesterday. My favourite colour? Pink. Over the last 10 odd years, my hair has greyed so fast that I sometimes wonder if this phenomenon is a symbolic manifestation of the contrast between yesterday and today.

                                    

Today, there are still times when the less likable old man of yesterday takes over, but the divine warrior within makes the continual decision to return to the straight and narrow. If the enemy in the form of perfectionism, regret, remorse, guilt and shame threatens to overstay his welcome, I tell him that no prize was awarded to the man first off the starting blocks. But rather to the man first past the finishing line. The sorrow of a fallen man lasts only but a while. If the response is right, the morning brings back the joy and peace of restoration. Armed with a personal mantra that all adversity shall be turned to my advantage, I live to fight another day.

               

Yet let no man fool you into thinking that there is no advantage in starting well, and maintaining a steady pace throughout life's journey.

               

On my back, a bag is slung with a label that reads: "I could have done it better". This is not a bag of static content, but one that is daily being updated. Many would advise me to leave this backpack where they say it rightfully belongs - in the past. Live the moment! Forget the past! Live and let live! No, thank you. Yes, the past has been dealt with. I have let go. Still, this bag is accepted as a purposeful thorn in my flesh. I say: so be it. Let it forever serve as a stark reminder for me to never return to vomit as I would ascribe some of the mistakes I have made in my life. Yes, the journey would certainly be a lot lighter without this extra weight. But now that I have it, I take it in my stride. My mission from hence is to unload this backpack, to empty relevant knowledge that I have gleamed, when the time is ripe to those who welcome a perspective.

               

And so here's the thing. I realise that it's not just me, but all of us, who hop from one day to the next, learning many priceless lessons, gaining many valuable insights and growing in much wisdom and intellect. Our lives are so full of lessons that we could metaphorically pass off as walking lessons. Yet, these very lessons authored by our lives are either blatantly disregarded, hidden out of shame, or somehow become so internalised that we are not even conscious of the lessons learnt let alone be able to articulate them to a fellow pilgrim.

               

But in trying to draft a book of lessons learnt and unravel the Function, I chewed and chewed on my thoughts, and about what to put on paper. I came to a humble realisation that I would never be able to craft a single lesson on life that would be complete. My awareness of who I am inside this jar of clay, my understanding of human nature, and my knowledge of God and His universe is not only incomplete but ever-changing. How dare I try to sell a book full of half-baked lessons? And as long as I myself am not a finished product, I will never be able to finish this product.

               

One of my favourite quotations from George Bernard Shaw thus comes to mind: "I'm not a teacher: only a fellow-traveller of whom you asked the way. I pointed ahead- ahead of myself as well as you." This quote has set the direction for me. And the 21st century technologies of Blogger and Facebook have gifted me with the perfect platform for my ambition albeit a different shape.

               

Largely influenced by my 13 and 14-year-old pupils and inspired by their journal entries, I started blogging in 2004. I am not pressured to blog everyday. Just when I feel this burning sensation from deep within to put my thoughts in a form that is tangible. Selecting, deleting, inserting, replacing, arranging words, sentences and paragraphs give me a sense of power that helps me to mould my thoughts, make sense of memories and transform them into nuggets of lessons that if synthesized and applied, become wisdom...wisdom that must not be kept for personal reference, but shared. Quite recently, I decided to extend my writings to Facebook. Not that I have abandoned my blog. Six years as a computer scientist, and I have learnt how vital it is to never trust any one place for data storage.

               

Facenoting helps me to learn as I share and share as I learn. And in choosing to write for a larger audience, surely there must be an attempt to entertain, to inform, to persuade, to inspire, to enlighten, and to invite as I share.