Friday, October 11, 2013


The other day I met up with one of my guy friends I hadn't seen in a while. He was telling me about the girl he'd been going out with for a couple of months, and to say he seemed enthusiastic about her would pretty much be an understatement. 

He raved on and on, gushing about how she was the most amazing creature to ever walk the face of the earth, how incredibly graceful and beautiful she was, the list goes on. 

I listened as he passionately declared that she was The One, how he was so utterly in love with her and would do anything for her.


Me: So, you're saying you love her. Are you sure? 
Him: Yes! I've never been so certain of anything in my life! 
Me: Do you see a future with her? 
Him: Huh? A future with her? 
Me: Would you bring her into your circle of friends and family? Comfort her when she needs you? Put her happiness above your own? Commit to a relationship with her? Build a life together with her? 

Him: Whoa whoa whoa! Slow down! What does all this have to do with anything? 
Me: Well, you said you were so sure she was 'The One'. You said you loved her so much. What does 'LOVE' mean to you? 

He pondered upon my question for a moment, then replied 

Him: I guess its a feeling of deep attraction that I have towards her. 
Me: So you're saying love is characterized by warm fuzzy feelings towards someone? What good are warm fuzzy feelings? They don't prove anything. It's your actions that show what someone truly means to you. 
Proclaiming love for someone when you've gone out with them for just a couple of months just doesn't make any sense. In the first place, how well do you really know her or him? If you don't have a thorough, holistic understanding of what they're like, how can you say you love who they are? 

I find it queer how some people can have such a shallow interpretation of the meaning of love when it's such a strong and powerful concept. Rather than just giving lip service, it's your actions which truly speak whether you love someone or not.
Please know that I'm not trying to be snide or sarcastic towards anybody in making this post. I'm not a relationship guru or some expert on the topic. The reason for me sharing this is to invoke in my readers their own clarity and recognition of it as well as for me to lay out my own thoughts and more clearly define for myself what loving someone truly means. 

I can't help but to relate to a passage in the Bible (taken from The Message version)

1 Corinthians Chapter 13:

   Love never gives up.
   Love cares more for others than for self.
   Love doesn’t want what it doesn’t have.
   Love doesn’t strut,
   Doesn’t have a swelled head,
   Doesn’t force itself on others,
   Isn’t always “me first,”
   Doesn’t fly off the handle,
   Doesn’t keep score of the sins of others,
   Doesn’t revel when others grovel,
   Takes pleasure in the flowering of truth,
   Puts up with anything,
   Trusts God always,
   Always looks for the best,
   Never looks back,
   But keeps going to the end.

When I tell someone I love them (and vice versa), I want to mean it like the passage above describes.


Tuesday, October 8, 2013


When I was a little girl, my parents used to tell me "There's no such thing as ghosts.", or "Monsters under your bed? Nah, they're not real!" And I used to believe them. Used to. 

Call it what you may - the divine, the supernatural, the spirit world. I have had three encounters with them.


The year was 2001 and I was 9 years old.

It was the end of the year during the holidays. I was reading a book when I started nodding off. I realized it was around 2.30am and decided I should go to sleep. 

Leaving my book lying open on the table, I turned off the lights and tucked myself into bed. 

I was drifting off to sleep when something jolted me back to wakefulness.

The pages of the book I'd left on my table were flipping over furiously, as though there was a frightful gale ripping through the room. As I only had my ceiling fan spinning lazily around, I knew that it couldn't be the wind. I never felt even a breeze.

I dared not open my eyes. I didn't know what I would see. I was afraid.

So I pretended to be asleep, hoping that whatever It was, It would realize that it would be futile to do mischief onto a person in slumber and leave me alone.

As abruptly as it had begun, the pages of the book came to a rest.


Had It left?

As I breathed a sigh of relief, something else made my body stiffen in fear.


The chair at my table was being dragged across the floor, making a distinct scraping sound.

My heart beat so strongly I felt as though my chest would burst.

I kept my eyes tightly shut and forced myself to keep my breathing calm. Please, please, go away and leave me alone, I prayed. I stayed still, not moving a muscle for what seemed like forever.

I woke up the next morning none the worse for my experience.


Such tells the first of my encounters with the supernatural.