Something’s Brewing

Now, I know when I started sharing my writing here some moons ago, I kicked off with a few things in mind:
1. A less-tentative title for the blog.

2. A customized CSS-driven layout that would make this site pretty unique. You know, just so I can be part of the whole “I’m an individual” movement our century seems to be so crazy about.

Now here’s the truth- I’ve been thinking about these two things for a long time and to be honest, I doubt it’s of any significance compared to my scrawlings here, many of which have ranged from personal reminders to siren calls to the masses out there. I’ve decided to ditch the two items from Project Benyong.wordpress.com. It’s been far too long for me to be stuck at the drawing board with fancy layout and new page title. It’s going to stay “Something’s Brewing”, with the generic pre-packaged wordpress.com page style. Too little time; too many things on my mind to bother with the superfluous; so here’s to complete focus on content!

Next on the agenda, I’ve added a new friend to my list of links. Do check her out- raw, heartfelt, passionate stuff written from the  vulnerable core of a beautiful soul, like many of us learning to deal with the deep, murky swamps of the human condition. More links to come, but as it is the next draft is doing my head in!

Yours,

benyong.

Happy Birthday to The Amazing P (and Me).

Nothing ever turns out the way I plan them. Keeping with human character, I struggle with all my might to strengthen my vice-like grip on these plans and when things seem to go wrong, I go into a frenzy and take everything down in a big, grandiose crash. As we all do, all spirals into further disarray the more we try to catch Life as it falls.

I thought I’d never get mad at you, I even told you so with great bravado and promise; of course, I did.

I imagined myself rushing to the airport from my 9am-10pm weekend on-call back to back shifts to board a plane that would take me to the space under your desk with..

Okay, so I didn’t really think that part through. I would be holding something nice. Let’s just say oh, I don’t know- what’s nice? Got it- a packet of fudge. Guess I could swipe that off the nurses’ station on my way out.

A packet of fudge in one hand and uh well, I gotta keep my other hand free to block any (hopefully) unintended kicks in m’ gut while you pull your office chair up to your desk.

“But then what happened?”

Growing up happened. In a good way, mind you. I got pissy, you got pissy, you being more level-headed than I was, moved on and found joy, I threw myself into the challenges of work, had a smashing holiday and found my true self again, I was still pissy so I threw myself into gathering my thoughts and came out a focused, well-centered Man again- this time around, aged 24.

I’m contented, you’re happy and I’m beginning to be euphoric for you.

So I figured, hey why not give The Amazing P a call later? I’ll sneak a quick call in between patients during afternoon clinic just in time for the clock to strike midnight half the world away. The Birthday’s a good enough excuse.

Half the world away, a distance that seemed to wax and wane, ebb and flow to us didn’t it? When we were on top of the world, three continents felt like three feet away and when we weren’t, all the better for Europe, Africa and a good part of Asia.

We both know what happened to “sneaking a quick call in clinic”. I can’t go down as the post-take ward round eats well into my lunch hour. The Pager goes off and I have to run off to be a grown up. No longer am I P’s “Benji” (seriously, nobody calls me that here- don’t even think about it, guys) , I remind myself- it’s Dr. Yong now. The one who rushes off only to be stuck with a distressed, fed-up, sweaty, tired, breathless, feverish middle aged lady he barely knows. He’s never had long late night video conversations with this woman yet he attends to her for it really was a matter of Life and Death then, leaving behind a conversation he was looking forward to in a while.

Damn; I forgot to send a card, let alone a postcard.

A phone call to the on-call microbiologist ensues.

Blast! I totally forgot to check out the florist.

“We ran out of gentamicin in the ward cupboard? So there’s a Gentamicin monster roaming around saying, ‘Me wants renal failure. Mmm renal failure. Yum Yum!’ ”

“No Ben, let’s not forget you’ve been prescribing it all week.”

“Oh.”

Okay Ben, a phone call will have to do. But what if well, she’s with Mr Man? Pity the poor guy, don’t go and blow it for him Ben. Unless of course, he’s sharp enough to turn her phone off when she turns her back.

Ray-Man gives me a meaningful look as I wait for bright ideas on the way forward. A plan is formed and put into action.

What if she’s at work? You know, grumpy. Or tired and stressed. Or grumpy, stressed and tired. Don’t wanna touch that hot plate, buddy.

I unknowingly miss yet another train to my dinner appointment in Edinburgh.

Darn, I would’ve made her dinner if I actually did go home. “Tene nene tene tene.”

“Go home, Ben. It’s getting late and you sure look like you deserve a weekend. I’m on call so I’m stuck in this place till Nine. Oh wait, I farted. Now, get going!”

(Quoting said colleague verbatim!)

Find myself an hour or so later slouched, barely awake on my couch, staring blankly through my very opaque bedroom ceiling.

“Hey you, Happy Birthday.”

The first words we’ve exchanged in months were worth more to me than gold and I guess I can say,

Happy belated birthday to me.

(That sentence made my day.)

Thanks for picking up the phone.

Thanks for taking up your co-starring role in a conversation that played like the old times.

For crying out loud, you’re not old.

Cause seriously, what does that make me?

And I’m back!

Well, this post is nearly a week late but I’ve been hurrying about on my feet and heart for the past five days and I’ve finally had a chance to catch my breath- this morning, at least. Here I am poking my head out of the seas of exam preparation, working late shifts, recovery from post-holiday fatigue and the other 998 things I have to sort out on my proverbial list of 1001.

How were the holidays?

Pretty darn good and boy, am I grateful to God for taking control of my holiday plans since the beginning. I initially intended to be home for the past two weeks but that melted down quickly and morphed into an apparent tour around europe then finally into what turned out to be a quiet, refreshing personal retreat of sorts after spending a weekend with good friends and a week alone hillwalking all over an island off the West Coast of Scotland.

Manchester/Rochdale was good. I would go out on a limb and say that if I didn’t have as much dim sum as I had (Look, it was good, on many levels), the trip would have been just as good. Sith Lord MRCP/FRCR and I were up to our old antics again- hiking all over a national park with five hours of sleep and two cans’ worth of Red Bull coursing through our veins between us (I really have a caffeine addiction problem, don’t I?) , shooting terrorists in full Source: Engine glory, gorging on dim sum, manly window shopping (mostly me, for suits and outdoor equipment- manly, see!) and much needed laid back male conversation. Of course, we were pretty grown up and spent just as much time talking about professional exams, career development, mutual funds and other investment vehicles, commercialized debt and well, grown up stuff.

The weekend with our friendly neighbourhood radiologist was immediately followed by the Isle of Bute off the coast of Wemyss Bay in Argylle and (wait for it..) Bute. Hotel room was pretty amazing, two walls (windows weren’t tiny, they weren’t) gave me the opportunity to take in the view of the coastline which was not a mere hundred yards away from my bedroom door. Yes, bedroom door, not hotel entrance.

Oh but of course, I was in Scotland. Where it is custom to rain at the most inconvenient of times (usually all times, but it was early autumn then). The daily early morning rain came without fail to scupper my West Island Way plans- or so it thought. I managed to do half the 25 mile walk over two afternoons through mud and swamp; which due to the rain, was what was left of the marked official trails. Imagine my disappointment when I climb a ridge 80 feet above sea level, eagerly anticipating the apparently serene Loch Na Leugh, an oasis of wildlife and lush surrounding greenery, only to be greeted by an overflowing dark green stagnant pool of what I was only just convinced to be water. The rest of the walk was pretty darn amazing- photos on flickr soon as I get them all post-processed from RAW! It was good to be outdoors again after too long and I’m pretty chuffed about managing this entire walk alone in such poor weather conditions.

Birthday celebrations were quiet- an average steak, a glass of pretty decent red wine and a long walk along the coast made for good company while I turned twenty four.

All in all, it was a good break from the humdrum of the World. As time slowed down a little, I’ve managed to recoup my Focus and centre my heart and eyes on the small but important things. Things that cannot be covered in this post, I’m afraid.

So I’m back, refreshed in more ways than one. (Still) Happily covered in mud but glowing inside with a sickening cheerful disposition, content with the way Life has turned out over the past few months, grateful to a God who made the effort to stake His claim in my life and heart again. Now to shake off the post-holiday fatigue and get through this 12-day shift!

Snake Oil (Oh Look, Neat!)

Ladies and gents, it’s the best thing ever; that’s right, the best, it is!

Nothing compares to its infinite beauty, the sheer powers of it, oh the amazing wonders that befuddle and bemuse all mankind since the beginning of time.

Think of it as falling in love- but only better!

Entwine your heart around the rapture of its purity, splint your eyelids open in watch, press your ears hard against the air for a Thief’s furtive footsteps for this is the Treasure of them all! (2 Cor 4:7)

Why, do you ask? Oh, but what could be so special about this Abstract you speak of?

Mi’dames and Mi’lords, it is this:

For in every time of joy or sadness; turmoil, sangfroid or tranquility; the green of disease or the pink of health; the drought of poverty or the floods of prosperity; the folly of wisdom or the clarity of lunacy- He is there, oh, He will always be!

He? Don’t interrupt a man when he speaks well of his goods, it’s for your benefit and yours only; don’t you know?

Those who have partaken in Him sing songs of joy and those who have also partaken in Him dance along to these songs of joy in sheer euphoria! What of the lame and deaf, you say? Well, they can but only write long letters or stand in street corners to tell the mute and the blind to come and partake in Him!

Oh, can you not see how great He is!

Oh, but nobody else has done what He has done and does what He still and will forever do!

Why, doesn’t that sound all too familiar!

Don’t you ever wonder if all you’re saying about God is ever enough to win a soul over?

Doesn’t it get frustrating when the concepts of Original Sin, Reconciliation, Redemption and Covenant after being so carefully released from the cusps of our lips like prize white doves fail to capture the many hearts of Man?

Maybe we’re way over our heads with this one. After all, we’re trying to sell an abstract religious philosophical concept to hearts and minds yet to be attuned to it. Forget not, one and all, that the true understanding of God takes wisdom, and wisdom from knowledge; all this stemming from fear? (Prov 9:10).

As much as we are taught to approach evangelism in a systematic and pragmatic manner, let us not forget that all a Snake Oil salesman has to do to sugar coat God and Christianity is this:-

“Do you see That? Neat, huh?”

It’s a sobering thought, this. We as the body of Christ, who are being called to live to his exacting standards of holiness are walking mascots for the high street brand we call Christianity. We’re like well, ipods and cans of Coke- we’re ubiquitous; inconspicuous, blending into the cacophony of everyday life to serve as subtle cues for consumers to briefly consider partaking in the convenience of tunes in one’s pocket or well, a can of Coke. We are in the unique position where we have to promote Brand Christianity before we have the chance to unclasp our lips.

It takes more than just a polished speech on God’s infinite wisdom, power and ultimately, love shown through the act of the Cross to win hearts over in this day and age.

It takes our lives and us for the World to say, “Oh look, Neat!”

The grandest gesture,

The grandest gesture between people is not a hug, a kiss, a smile, a wave or even a deep heart-to-heart conversation, but the simple, earnestly sincere words,

“I’ll keep you in prayer”.

I’ve written about this all not too long ago but the first two days of my holiday have reminded me of the great joy and honour to be on the receiving end of such words- and their true execution. Don’t get me wrong, I know that I am most blessed to have a set group of people who have kept my name on their lips as they bow their heads in prayer.

I’m not going to deny that the past few months have been torrid times for my soul, what with the emotional topsy turvies my heart has taken a beating to. I’ve spent all too many weeks and nights angry, bitter and dead inside. The clockwork of my heartbeat slowly grew deaf to the calls of the Mind and Soul to summon compassion, kindness and forgiveness. My wax smile slowly finally give way as my patience wore thin and well- let’s not let this paragraph descend into lyrical, poignant prose dedicated to my ill-deserved angst- I got grumpy.

I have to say, I’ve had offers to be prayed for over the past few weeks by the kindest of souls to cross my grumpy limp; some friends of old and a friend anew who seemed to have gone out of her way to help me back up. It would be an insult for me to convey my mere thanks or well, send them flowers and chocolate when I’m all fixed in the not too distant future.

Nothing can compare to the gift of love these kind souls have generously spared me so I can once again fiercely believe and fight for the many values I once held dear. Thank you, for believing and praying that I will once again discover my heart. It’s only Day Two, and I think I can feel something starting to flicker inside.

benyong

I… am..

ON ANNUAL LEAVE!!

…bwahahahaha..

The Hills Are Alive…

Oh pants, this does mean I have to either finish off the lyrics to this song or embed it here, don’t I?

Anyway, that’s beside the point.

I’m going on holiday- not now, not very soon, but it surely isn’t soon enough.

I’m off to clear my head (and heart, for the matter).

Let’s hope I’ll come back less grumpy or pensive, let’s hope that I come back less bitter about women (whoa, say whaaaat?).

Anyway, Stonehenge+IsleofBute/Arran/SomerandomislandoffthewestcoastofScotland+LegolandWindsor+/YettobedecidedsmallcountryinScandinaviaorCentralEurope Here I come!

So, off I go to backpack/hillwalk/live a childhood dream (c’mon, everybody loves Lego!)/catch up with close friends/eat/update my flickr page.

Pray I don’t starve to death or lose my way in the middle of nowhere while I backpack alone.

Oh yeah, and do remind me to bring insect repellent to ward off them midges!

Click here to play!

On Intimacy (We’re pretty screwed up)

The one confounding concept that many struggle to grapple with, let alone face. The one primal human desire that many seek yet so few of us manage to fulfill. A yearning, a longing, a pining, a hankering that lies deep in the Human Heart that seems to be deliberately ignored by the Mind in all efforts to defend oneself from all forms of vulnerability- illusions or otherwise.

There’s no wrong in being found out.

So we tell ourselves, the impostors we are, before we lay our heads in slumber at night. Though we lie asleep, assured in this sentiment, our innate self-defense remain awake, vigilant; our prides swelling in our hearts and drowning out all other voices in our heads that fearlessly champion the need for Intimacy. We fight tirelessly to deny ourselves of our humanity, our true nature to err, to commit mistakes, the sheer imperfection that make us merely human.

Surely everyone has been hurt before.

A heartbreaking truth that in this Modern Age, stands head and shoulders above all in its certitude. The apparent innate ugliness of Humanity is to blame for shutting out the world from the core of our hearts, the blame for our fatal mistake of starving ourselves of the deep kinship and understanding our hearts oh-so-crave placed squarely on the shoulders of the next convenient scapegoat we find. An ex-boyfriend, an ex-girlfriend, an estranged former best friend, a parent, a cousin twice removed, a teacher, a student or a stranger. Best example is the helpless damsel who struggles with the wounds her ex-boyfriend deals her heart, encasing herself in self-pity, having pulled wool over her eyes- to call it self-preservation or a self-defense mechanism of sorts. Of course, she’s the one who waves the 21st century feminist banner, “Where have the Nice Guys gone?”

We have to get tired of all this at some point.

We expend our energy chasing or running away from these figments of our imagination, our minds having been fed by the ideals of today’s post-modernist call to shut the doors to our hearts and throw the keys down a well. Run; from the friend who betrays you, from the relationships that suddenly turn sour, from situations you find yourself “Too grown up or busy to deal with” (surely a lie we all fall for from time to time?), from the God who pursues you with His all?

Fatigued, exhausted, our hearts lie in our chests as we finally slump to catch our breaths realize that we haven’t a clue what exactly it is that’s wearing us down, when we realize that all the needless running has hurt far too many around us- ourselves included.

Modern Evangelistic Christianity is often found marketing God as the solution to all our issues with intimacy- a truth I dare not deny, I might add- but strangely enough, we Christians ourselves remain to be convinced that all the fighting, running and lies will eventually get us somewhere.  The strangest of God’s creatures, we run from the things we purpose for- Charity, Forgiveness, Acceptance and well, Love.

We’re pretty screwed up, aren’t we?

Old Footsteps (My Favourite Bench)

I carefully planned this weekend to be as laid back as possible, proceeding to spend it in good ol’ Dundee. I figured revisiting my old stomping grounds and spending the weekend at a good friend’s place would do me some good to help me blow off the steam from the whirlwind my life has been of late; oh and then there’s work.

The bright sunny afternoon was spent walking around town with a new friend I thought I could use getting to know a little better and rack up some window shopping hours in the Captain’s Log. As said companion had to part ways with me, I decided to lunch in front of the Caird Hall as despite it being smack in the centre of town, it makes a pretty decent quiet place to sit down and nibble on a burger (I’m trying to gain weight, remember?). Failing to hold back the thoughts, I began to realize how much sitting on my favourite bench meant to me.

The many events that transpired between the rare moments I’ve managed to seat myself on said bench began to run past my eyes- the good, the bad and well, whatever comes in between. As I retraced every old footstep tread in the past year, I began to realize the many mistakes I’ve made- but most importantly the lessons I’ve learnt and among the many, some stand out like the gleaming reflection of one’s face off a necklace of pearls. Things that keep my feet on the ground and remind me that I need to come here more often to reminisce.

I should’ve learned to swallow my pride at a much younger age.

People are ugly but let’s face it, they need lovin’.

I need lovin’, as ugly as I am.

I’m not as bad as I make myself out to be.

That Twinhead laptop was bad business.

Life’s unfair- suck it up.

It might be too late to say this but dammit ben, you should’ve listened to Pam more often.

Be nice to everyone- including days that aren’t their birthday.

The one person I need forgiveness from the most is Myself.

The one person I really need to forgive is Me.

That Bible book should’ve been pored over and examined when I was much younger.

-benyong

On Women.

I used to have a long check list of the things I look for in a woman. Well, to be dead honest here to my surprise I did find what I thought was the perfect person only to realize that maybe I was missing out a crucial detail.

So this calls for me to come up with only thing the perfect woman would need to have (listen up gals!):

When I screw up (which reliable sources will tell you, is very often) I’ll apologize and when I do, mean it. So all I’m asking for is for forgiveness and oh well, why not a second chance which means don’t bloody keep punishing me for it. Take your time to tell me where I screwed up, scream at me if necessary, let it all out, go get your space to cool off and let’s get the show back on the road. Let’s keep it all civilized here, no kicking and screaming, no silent treatment or awkwardness. All clean fun.

Geez, women.