Cost of comfort

The residents uphill would always remember Marcus as a strong and capable fellow. Not only did he possess the charm to attracted followers, but also the passion to serve.

He’d grown up insufficient, his family dabbling in poverty. That, he often said, helped him define his priorities. When he first assumed office, he’d assumed to provide for those who trusted him. It was his duty.

No one foresaw the years that followed. From being confident and enthusiastic, Marcus evolved. Processions and possessions weighed him down. Routines and meetings disrupted his dreams.

Soon, he’d become the laziest ant on the hill.

Moments to memorise

Our most beautiful moments come when we least expect it. Sometimes, we may spend all our lives searching for happiness and contentment when all the while it’s just round the corner without us realising it.

The reason: we pursue. Our society always taught us to chase life, and to strive to make our own path. To create our own luck, and to forge ourselves the future we dream of. And so we do. We toil day in and out, focussing on the one thing that we think matters the most to us, while we miss out on the small everyday, ever-present, pleasures coexisting with us.

Aiming only for the destination, we fail to appreciate the journey. Serene experiences stem from absolute lack of preparedness. Spontaneous actions, unplanned adventures, bring us serendipitous memories. We don’t always have to create a path—it’s okay once a while to let an unknown path lead us where it may. It’s the unexpected joys of spotting a squirrel or running into a friend that makes any journey worth taking.

When we begin to notice, and let nature influence our course of action, we grow. We learn from the people we meet, the conversations we have, and the coffee we share. And all these occur by allowing things to happen as they do, and not jumping to rash conclusions. For when we are open-minded, devoid of judgement, and fearless to embrace unfamiliarity, we find meaning in this trip called life.

Just because

Richard Davis snorted.

The means didn’t matter as long as he achieved what he wanted. He wasn’t going to pass up on this opportunity.

In fact, he reasoned making notes in his scrawly schoolboy handwriting, aliens don’t belong here. We’d be wasting our resources catering to them.  We have enough problems already without those ugly miscreants, too.

Smooth talker Richard had no difficulty swaying members of the ministry. He became the first official to propose and pass the law that denied livelihood to thousands of foreign workers.

“Well, gentlemen, they’re a hazard to local employment,” he’d declared.

Richard hated brown.

When I close my eyes…

I haven’t travelled too far and wide, but from what I’ve seen wherever I’ve been, nothing’s made me happier than the view of the River Gorge from the top of Beacon Rock. Though I’ve only experienced it once, I think it qualifies as my happy place. Not jet because of the stunning view of the flowing water, but also because the image is plastered in my mind. It’s the first thing that comes to my mind when I think about waterways. It was so serene that I couldn’t have asked for a better place to rest my mind and soul.

Happy place - River Gorge, Portland