Potholes

"Why does all the work come to me?"

This is probably one of the most commonly heard. And you start defining your job scope, building up barriers to prevent your colleagues from stepping over you. You may even start monitoring what your colleagues are doing and you probably conclude that they are doing less than you. You lost the compassion for another soul who is also suffering and the patience to work out communication with the other.

You may even start making personal judgement about what they should be doing but did not do, or should not be doing when they did. And making all sorts of judgement against this person. The spiral continues over time, building up the walls, brick by brick, thickening the cement layer by layer until you are so wrapped up in the "I", surrounded by the layers.

Suffocated and breathless, you know you are trapped in the pothole, with no room for breathing and communicating.

Everyone knows (hopefully) what the good traits are: compassion, patience, generosity, diligence but it is so easy to lapse into the potholes that are lying around the path if one is not careful.

OMAK: the best panecea for the fault-finding mind. Practise OMAK faithfully, and it will help you from falling into another pothole.

WHDR 2010

There is no way I could miss this event, the two things closest to my heart, hospice work and cycling.

It was great to see the cycling kakis again - LG, Je, M, MJ, DH. There were about 100 cyclists I estimated from different cycling groups. You could tell from the cycling dry fit that they wore. It was great that they have rounded up their cyclists to participate in this event. There is even a group made up of foldable bikes. Though mainly Brompton, but there are others as well. I wondered how fast they can go with the wheels so much smaller than mine.

I asked LG why is it that none of the Bikeaid member never thought of setting up a cycling shop especially him as he likes bicycles and cycling?

"Then we will not be called Bike aid but Bike shop oreadi."

I can't think of a more appropriate reply and at that moment, I am really glad that none of the Bikeaid member has set up a cycling shop.

The route was a bit nerve-racking though. It was a saturday and we went down Lavender road, Beach Road and North Bridge. The sweeper was shouting his lungs out to gather the laggards together and the group dispersed everytime we hit a traffic light. It was with great relief that we hit the Keppel Road where the traffic eased off a little.

The ride took me down memory lane. Where it used to be marshes and open area, there stood now buildings and factories. The flat that used to be vacant are now occupied and the area is lively with activities.

Sounds of drums reached our ears as we approached St Joseph's Home. The old folks, the nurses and sisters welcome us with friendly drums. They have also prepared some pretty flower tags for us as a token of their appreciation.

I felt a bit deja vu as I recollected the scene many years ago on that same ride. The rain and thunderstorm that escorted us all the way, and the warm cheers that greeted us when we reached.

Some good hearted soul has taught the residents how to play the drums, and it was amazing how a tut or two from everyone can form a band and make wondrous music. The uncles and aunties were quite proud to show case their skills, and I definitely enjoyed myself playing the drums with them.

The thoughtful gesture that means so much, and filled with so much love for the resident. St Jospeh Home is a home of love.