My previous post on my childhood memories have gently nudged my friends to embark on a journey of their past. One of them was the open-air cinema of the past. This was therefore with much nostalgia when I read the comeback of open-air cinema in Sunday Times today.
Typically screened under the starry night in an open space, these open-air cinema kept the children from running around. Besides being mesmerized by the big screen, at times, we would also peer curiously at the big uncle standing at the back of the crowd, manning the projector machine. These constant neck-turning-and-stretching exercise would intensify every time the screen flickered. In terms of sound effect, in place of the cinematic, digitalised effects of today's big screen, the auditory sensation of yester years was on a totally different playing field. It was rich with a whole array of other special effects ranging from the running sound of projector, catching-up conversations of housewives and the occasional leaves-rustling. In particular, the latter was like a precursor to us to scan around for the closest shelther and dash for it at the first drop of rain.
With so many other attractions each vying for the undivided attention from the children, only the best of the best would stand out. This honor undeniably belonged to the film entitled "Jaws". My eyes were transfixed on the white screen which played a thrilling story in front of me. Never mind that occasion flickering, never mind that out-of-tone music due to volume overload, I was spellbound by the built-up of suspense. When the music ended, the show continued in my mind and that night this gullible girl refused to go to toilet for fear that the shark would bolt out from nowhere and tear me apart.
Ahh, those were the good, old days of open-air cinema, made savory with that dash of childish naiveness.
Sunday, February 22, 2009
Stuff that will see one through difficult times
With the ill wind of recession blowing, many people could be handed the pink slip, while others fear being shown the door. The current economic downturn is especially gloomy to the Professionals, Managers, Executives and Technicians (PMET) group as the daily papers dish out the increased numbers and the current Government's focus to help this group.
I belong to the PMET group. In some of my idle thoughts in the States, I sometimes asked myself what could I do for a living if I were there for good. During such moments, I thought hard and long but still found myself at a loss. As I stayed in the country longer, I thought maybe I could leverage on my amateur fusion cooking skills to set up a restaurant. Afterall, that was what most Chinese migrants did as portrayed in the cinemas.
A few days back, I read an article about a refugee who owned farms and was among the rich and famous in his home country but had to flee with his family in tow due to civil strife. In his adopted country, he worked as a janitor for a few years, before saving enough money to start a small grocery store. Slowly but surely, he re-built his wealth in his empire of grocery chains.
I am inspired. At the same time, I am also sober enough to realise that his success story is probably one in a million.
To those who are affected by this financial crisis, I will like to offer this Chinese proverb "liu zhe qin shan zai, bu pa mei zhai shao", roughly translated into stay alive as opportunities are abound. Remember, success in life is not measured in a single dimension as in career or wealth. It is also about being a good spouse, parent, son/daughter, and a caring person. It is also about having a good health. And when the going gets tough, these are the stuff that will help one bite the bullet and start from the lowest rung.
I belong to the PMET group. In some of my idle thoughts in the States, I sometimes asked myself what could I do for a living if I were there for good. During such moments, I thought hard and long but still found myself at a loss. As I stayed in the country longer, I thought maybe I could leverage on my amateur fusion cooking skills to set up a restaurant. Afterall, that was what most Chinese migrants did as portrayed in the cinemas.
A few days back, I read an article about a refugee who owned farms and was among the rich and famous in his home country but had to flee with his family in tow due to civil strife. In his adopted country, he worked as a janitor for a few years, before saving enough money to start a small grocery store. Slowly but surely, he re-built his wealth in his empire of grocery chains.
I am inspired. At the same time, I am also sober enough to realise that his success story is probably one in a million.
To those who are affected by this financial crisis, I will like to offer this Chinese proverb "liu zhe qin shan zai, bu pa mei zhai shao", roughly translated into stay alive as opportunities are abound. Remember, success in life is not measured in a single dimension as in career or wealth. It is also about being a good spouse, parent, son/daughter, and a caring person. It is also about having a good health. And when the going gets tough, these are the stuff that will help one bite the bullet and start from the lowest rung.
Sunday, February 15, 2009
My Childhood Recollection on Valentine's Day
Dawn had just arrived. The morning mist was cool in the warm, tropical Singapore on Saturday. Usually, I would be in the wet market buying the fish, meat and vegetables to be served on the dining table for the next one week.
But not today. It was not because today was Valentine's Day. Rather, it was because my hubby was out of town so I had to take on the role of both father and mother singularly.
"Really, daddy is not around today?" P regaled and explained. "Wow, that's great. Daddy can be quite a tyrant at times." Though, R was probably too young to express in sentences, his eyes were beaming with joy.
I was not surprised. His daddy was the authoritative figure at home as I was often too soft-hearted to use the rod. When my hubby returned home that evening, I told him his sons' reaction. I gathered that it must be hailed from his childhood days where his parents were strict with him to make sure he stay on top of his homework. There is nothing wrong with this approach. He is what he is today because of his upbringing. On the other hand, I had a more carefree childhood days.
I used to stay in a one-room rental HDB flat "on top of a hill" at Bukit Ho Swee near Tiong Bahru Estate where the pre-war flats were. It was not a hill but a little slope which I enjoyed pretending that I was trekking up a hill.
We later shifted to a two-room rental HDB flat just down the hill, as the tiny one-room flat became too small with arrival of my little brother and later, two younger brothers. A queen-sized bed, just above the bed was a baby sarong cradle hanging from the ceiling, a bunker bed with a pull-out bed and a manually-operated sewing machine which I later understood to be my mom's dowry (hmm, that should be antique by now), jostled for the tiny space in the bedroom. Our living room was more luxurious in space as we only had our prized television, a wooden dining table and a coffee table which was discarded by its previous owner but my father had rendered it still sturdy and hence given it a new lease of life at our spartan home. Scattered around the living room were a few bamboo stools. Those non-eye catching little stools were our favorite after a hard day of playing hide-and-seek and police-catch-thief games with our neighbours. They provided us with the much needed prop on our butts and we would always push them against the wall to get a good, cooling back support. As our flat was on the ground floor, it had two doors. One facing an open space, the other the dark corridor which my father had locked it up.
Even though we were poor, we had a fair share of joy and even had pets. During those days, there would be people hawking bread, cooked food such as "niang dao hu", ice-cream and even chicks at the alley in front of our flat. Yes, those yellow, chirping chicks. And we used to rear them in our flat. My mother would haggle from the fruit seller in the wet market for the paper box which was used to contain fruits, after buying some fruits. And the paper box would be the home of our chicks. We would usually have two and we even walked our pets around the neighbourhood.
There was an occasion, when my pet was a little, yellow chick no longer but a plumy, white hen. Against our warnings, it roamed out and ventured at the turn into the dark corridor of our flat on one stormy evening alone, never to return. My mother told me that it had probably found its way into the stomach of other people.
I remembered I used to scream and scrambled onto the table when our pets grew big and found cardboard home too restricted and jumped out for a breath of fresh air. I was scared because the hens felt so warm yet soft on my hand that I might squash them and break their bones unknowingly. My mother would always come to my rescue getting the hens back to their home and covered them with the other part of the paper box. Besides offering companionship, the hens were also our alarm clocks, albeit at times, cock-a-doodle-dooing at the weird hours - in the afternoon fortunately.
When I was about ten years old, I was heart-broken when my mother slaughtered my pet. When she cut it up, we saw many rubber bands that clogged its gizzard. No wonder it was so skinny! After that I refused to rear anymore more chicks.
During those times, I even had a dog as a pet. It was a stray, black little dog which we kept it for a mere two to three weeks. I bathed the dog and played with it. But my father told us that our flat was too small to have a dog and so we had to let the dog go. My memory was hazy as to where the dog went to, but that sour feeling still lingered.
Our family later moved to a three-room homeownership flat this time round when I was in my teens. That also marked the end of our pet-owning days.
I supposed that was why I had a more creative streak compared to my Valentine. He was the rational guy and me, the fun-loving one. This brings balance to our family.
But not today. It was not because today was Valentine's Day. Rather, it was because my hubby was out of town so I had to take on the role of both father and mother singularly.
"Really, daddy is not around today?" P regaled and explained. "Wow, that's great. Daddy can be quite a tyrant at times." Though, R was probably too young to express in sentences, his eyes were beaming with joy.
I was not surprised. His daddy was the authoritative figure at home as I was often too soft-hearted to use the rod. When my hubby returned home that evening, I told him his sons' reaction. I gathered that it must be hailed from his childhood days where his parents were strict with him to make sure he stay on top of his homework. There is nothing wrong with this approach. He is what he is today because of his upbringing. On the other hand, I had a more carefree childhood days.
I used to stay in a one-room rental HDB flat "on top of a hill" at Bukit Ho Swee near Tiong Bahru Estate where the pre-war flats were. It was not a hill but a little slope which I enjoyed pretending that I was trekking up a hill.
We later shifted to a two-room rental HDB flat just down the hill, as the tiny one-room flat became too small with arrival of my little brother and later, two younger brothers. A queen-sized bed, just above the bed was a baby sarong cradle hanging from the ceiling, a bunker bed with a pull-out bed and a manually-operated sewing machine which I later understood to be my mom's dowry (hmm, that should be antique by now), jostled for the tiny space in the bedroom. Our living room was more luxurious in space as we only had our prized television, a wooden dining table and a coffee table which was discarded by its previous owner but my father had rendered it still sturdy and hence given it a new lease of life at our spartan home. Scattered around the living room were a few bamboo stools. Those non-eye catching little stools were our favorite after a hard day of playing hide-and-seek and police-catch-thief games with our neighbours. They provided us with the much needed prop on our butts and we would always push them against the wall to get a good, cooling back support. As our flat was on the ground floor, it had two doors. One facing an open space, the other the dark corridor which my father had locked it up.
Even though we were poor, we had a fair share of joy and even had pets. During those days, there would be people hawking bread, cooked food such as "niang dao hu", ice-cream and even chicks at the alley in front of our flat. Yes, those yellow, chirping chicks. And we used to rear them in our flat. My mother would haggle from the fruit seller in the wet market for the paper box which was used to contain fruits, after buying some fruits. And the paper box would be the home of our chicks. We would usually have two and we even walked our pets around the neighbourhood.
There was an occasion, when my pet was a little, yellow chick no longer but a plumy, white hen. Against our warnings, it roamed out and ventured at the turn into the dark corridor of our flat on one stormy evening alone, never to return. My mother told me that it had probably found its way into the stomach of other people.
I remembered I used to scream and scrambled onto the table when our pets grew big and found cardboard home too restricted and jumped out for a breath of fresh air. I was scared because the hens felt so warm yet soft on my hand that I might squash them and break their bones unknowingly. My mother would always come to my rescue getting the hens back to their home and covered them with the other part of the paper box. Besides offering companionship, the hens were also our alarm clocks, albeit at times, cock-a-doodle-dooing at the weird hours - in the afternoon fortunately.
When I was about ten years old, I was heart-broken when my mother slaughtered my pet. When she cut it up, we saw many rubber bands that clogged its gizzard. No wonder it was so skinny! After that I refused to rear anymore more chicks.
During those times, I even had a dog as a pet. It was a stray, black little dog which we kept it for a mere two to three weeks. I bathed the dog and played with it. But my father told us that our flat was too small to have a dog and so we had to let the dog go. My memory was hazy as to where the dog went to, but that sour feeling still lingered.
Our family later moved to a three-room homeownership flat this time round when I was in my teens. That also marked the end of our pet-owning days.
I supposed that was why I had a more creative streak compared to my Valentine. He was the rational guy and me, the fun-loving one. This brings balance to our family.
Sunday, February 1, 2009
Moo-ving around Singapore in search of Moo-Moos
It started out as an innocuous conversation between father and son on the many stand-up cow posters at around Toa Payoh Town Garden as we drove past during one of our many Chinese New Year house visits. P commented on the resurgence of these "moo-moos", previously also found at many of Singapore grass patches and our two boys were thrilled that they would exclaim whenever they saw one. This time round, the cows donned on big chinese characters which meant "spring" and "fortune", in bright and cheerful primary colours - yellow, red and blue, plus their close secondary friend - green. Some which were raised up higher with higher transparent plastic stilts, even carried a bag of gold - somewhat akin to Santa Claus.
It was P's daddy who suggested to drive around Singapore and take photographs with these adorable posters. My two boys were all too eager to go for it.
Today was a balmy day. The sun was gentle on the skin, the glare was not too overwhelming with occassional passing giant clouds providing the much needed shade. We planned our trip - start from the city drove up to the west up to hit Tuas, before heading northwards where we had earlier spotted the cows.
It was after a 15 minutes drive that we net our first catch - at West Coast Park. About 5 to 8 cow posters were stuck on a flat grass patch. We happily parked our car before grabbing our camera and started snapping.
Next we proceeded back to our car. But there was a moo-moo drought from West Coast Park all the way up to Tuas. But we did a little stop-over at a seemingly out-of-Singapore place - the Rail Mall. There we were greeted by surface carparks which led us to a stretch of shophouses with some upmarket eateries. We went into Coffee Bean to quench our thirst. It remained me of the many road trips that we had when we were in the States where we would stop to satisfy our hunger pangs.
After the much needed sustenance, we continued our journey in search of more moo-moos. Good old memories of our much cherished roadtrips together in the States continued to flow back. I remembered that I was awe-struck by the tapestry of yellow, red, rust and green during fall along the US road as we drove. This time round, I realised that Singapore too has much to offer not just sweltering summer. Along the expressway, I saw the splendour of summer with the magnificent raintrees and the many different tropical plants, beaming hues of green.
So did we find any more moo-moos? Yes, just as intrepid as the ox, we continued our journey and found them at Bishan Park. More of these adorable cow posters greeted us at Braddell Road and of course, at Toa Payoh Town Garden.
So the lesson learnt here is: Many a time, we already have the best things in life. Just like when we first saw the moo-moos in Toa Payoh and have never paid heed to the beautiful greeneries in Singapore. But a detour is good as it makes us realise that gold is actually at our own backyard.
It was P's daddy who suggested to drive around Singapore and take photographs with these adorable posters. My two boys were all too eager to go for it.
Today was a balmy day. The sun was gentle on the skin, the glare was not too overwhelming with occassional passing giant clouds providing the much needed shade. We planned our trip - start from the city drove up to the west up to hit Tuas, before heading northwards where we had earlier spotted the cows.
It was after a 15 minutes drive that we net our first catch - at West Coast Park. About 5 to 8 cow posters were stuck on a flat grass patch. We happily parked our car before grabbing our camera and started snapping.
Next we proceeded back to our car. But there was a moo-moo drought from West Coast Park all the way up to Tuas. But we did a little stop-over at a seemingly out-of-Singapore place - the Rail Mall. There we were greeted by surface carparks which led us to a stretch of shophouses with some upmarket eateries. We went into Coffee Bean to quench our thirst. It remained me of the many road trips that we had when we were in the States where we would stop to satisfy our hunger pangs.
After the much needed sustenance, we continued our journey in search of more moo-moos. Good old memories of our much cherished roadtrips together in the States continued to flow back. I remembered that I was awe-struck by the tapestry of yellow, red, rust and green during fall along the US road as we drove. This time round, I realised that Singapore too has much to offer not just sweltering summer. Along the expressway, I saw the splendour of summer with the magnificent raintrees and the many different tropical plants, beaming hues of green.
So did we find any more moo-moos? Yes, just as intrepid as the ox, we continued our journey and found them at Bishan Park. More of these adorable cow posters greeted us at Braddell Road and of course, at Toa Payoh Town Garden.
So the lesson learnt here is: Many a time, we already have the best things in life. Just like when we first saw the moo-moos in Toa Payoh and have never paid heed to the beautiful greeneries in Singapore. But a detour is good as it makes us realise that gold is actually at our own backyard.
Sunday, January 25, 2009
Toastmaster Project 6: Vocal Variety
Objectives:
1. Use voice volume, pitch, rate and quality to reflect and add meaning and interest to your message.
2. Use pauses to enhance your message.
3. Use vocal variety smoothly and naturally
Time: Five to Seven Minutes
=================================
The Force was with Me
Good afternoon Club President, District Officers, fellow toastmasters, friends and guests,
I will never forget the date four years ago. It was my date with the UNKNOWN as I bravely trotted out with my two boys in tow. To minimise the number of mysterious unknown happenings, I had armed my two boys then aged one and three, each with a harness. Something like a haversack without the sack but with a leash that I held tightly with my two hands, so that these two hyperactive darlings would not run out of my sight, while I balanced my body with a real big haversack on my back.
Sending me off in this journey were my mother and my brother. We were at Singapore Changi Airport as my brother bidded me goodbye.
"Bye, big sister, see you in a year's time and may the force be with you"
My two children and I were on our way to Pennsylvannia in the United State of America. We were to be re-united with my husand, their father after two, long, weary months of tying up the loose ends in Singapore before we left this home country of ourselves for a year of family bonding in the United States where my husband was doing his post graduate studies. We were not rich but we had done our sums that we would be able to survive that one year without my pay. With monetary concerns settled, we figured out that we should stay together as a family.
After the Star Wars saga, the phrase "May the force be with you" was all rage in our family to wish each other luck. It was especially apt in this circumstance as I stepped out with my two young, boisterious boys - first time alone.
There was no direct flight from Singapore to my final destination - Pittsburgh, Pennsylvannia. With two children to contend with, I had made all necessary preparations - shipping all our essential stuff consisting a box of clothings and some toys a month in advance. Next, I had also planned for the easiest-within-budget flight from Singapore to my destination. We took the then still available economy seats in the Airbus by Singapore Airlines, the ONLY direct flight from Singapore to the United States. But ALAS, United States have 51 states. And as the big apple, New York is the financial hub
and not Pennsylvania, we needed to take a domestic flight from Newark International Airport to Pittsburgh, a small city in Pensylvannia.
So while the flight from Singapore to New York took 18 hours 30 minutes in physical time, it was really a breeze for me as we were in good hands. The friendly SIA staff greeted us by our first names.
"Good day, AC"
"Hi, P. This are some coloring materials and toys for you"
"Yes!!!" P cheered as his face lit up.
"Me too" R chorused.
"Hi R, would you want some Milo?" R nodded his head vigorously and greeted the SIA girl with a big smile.
Once the plane touched down, I was on my own again. Or so I thought. Oh gosh, the earlier flight was slightly delayed by 30 minutes! We were dashing for our next 2-hour domestic flight. But as Murphy's Law had predicted it all - all bad things came together. There was a long queue which we needed to pass for security check.
As each minute passed, my heart beat went a notch faster. Desperate, despairing, destitute, I was at my wits' end. But then, I remembered the FORCE! In order to be with the FORCE, one needed to be at peace. So I took a couple of deep breath. And I approached the Caucasian male in front.
"Excuse me sir, do you think you could let me go ahead of you as I am running out of time to catch another flight" I let out in a bullet-train speed.
"Oh sure." He smiled. "But do ask the person in front of the queue which will speed up things a bit for you" He further suggested.
"Thank you so much" I replied grasping my fists with gratitude.
The man in front was also a kind soul.
The gates were closing! With no time to lose, I grabbed my one-year old boy and released the harness on P and asked him to run and follow me quickly. I was carrying a big haversack on my back with my boy in front and running as fast as my legs could carry me in the bid to beat time. At the same time, I would turn my head to keep my elder boy in sight, calling out and signalling out to him to hurry up. That was the closest thing to competing in an Olympic race that I ever had.
We completed our race with flying colours. There were still people in the queue for our domestic flight. The gate had not closed yet.
The force must be with me. I could see spectacular bursts of delightful colours celebrating our triumph. I could see the people cheering for us as though we had won the Olympic games. We smiled and hugged each other tightly while gasping for breath all at the same time.
Toastmaster of the day.
1. Use voice volume, pitch, rate and quality to reflect and add meaning and interest to your message.
2. Use pauses to enhance your message.
3. Use vocal variety smoothly and naturally
Time: Five to Seven Minutes
=================================
The Force was with Me
Good afternoon Club President, District Officers, fellow toastmasters, friends and guests,
I will never forget the date four years ago. It was my date with the UNKNOWN as I bravely trotted out with my two boys in tow. To minimise the number of mysterious unknown happenings, I had armed my two boys then aged one and three, each with a harness. Something like a haversack without the sack but with a leash that I held tightly with my two hands, so that these two hyperactive darlings would not run out of my sight, while I balanced my body with a real big haversack on my back.
Sending me off in this journey were my mother and my brother. We were at Singapore Changi Airport as my brother bidded me goodbye.
"Bye, big sister, see you in a year's time and may the force be with you"
My two children and I were on our way to Pennsylvannia in the United State of America. We were to be re-united with my husand, their father after two, long, weary months of tying up the loose ends in Singapore before we left this home country of ourselves for a year of family bonding in the United States where my husband was doing his post graduate studies. We were not rich but we had done our sums that we would be able to survive that one year without my pay. With monetary concerns settled, we figured out that we should stay together as a family.
After the Star Wars saga, the phrase "May the force be with you" was all rage in our family to wish each other luck. It was especially apt in this circumstance as I stepped out with my two young, boisterious boys - first time alone.
There was no direct flight from Singapore to my final destination - Pittsburgh, Pennsylvannia. With two children to contend with, I had made all necessary preparations - shipping all our essential stuff consisting a box of clothings and some toys a month in advance. Next, I had also planned for the easiest-within-budget flight from Singapore to my destination. We took the then still available economy seats in the Airbus by Singapore Airlines, the ONLY direct flight from Singapore to the United States. But ALAS, United States have 51 states. And as the big apple, New York is the financial hub
and not Pennsylvania, we needed to take a domestic flight from Newark International Airport to Pittsburgh, a small city in Pensylvannia.
So while the flight from Singapore to New York took 18 hours 30 minutes in physical time, it was really a breeze for me as we were in good hands. The friendly SIA staff greeted us by our first names.
"Good day, AC"
"Hi, P. This are some coloring materials and toys for you"
"Yes!!!" P cheered as his face lit up.
"Me too" R chorused.
"Hi R, would you want some Milo?" R nodded his head vigorously and greeted the SIA girl with a big smile.
Once the plane touched down, I was on my own again. Or so I thought. Oh gosh, the earlier flight was slightly delayed by 30 minutes! We were dashing for our next 2-hour domestic flight. But as Murphy's Law had predicted it all - all bad things came together. There was a long queue which we needed to pass for security check.
As each minute passed, my heart beat went a notch faster. Desperate, despairing, destitute, I was at my wits' end. But then, I remembered the FORCE! In order to be with the FORCE, one needed to be at peace. So I took a couple of deep breath. And I approached the Caucasian male in front.
"Excuse me sir, do you think you could let me go ahead of you as I am running out of time to catch another flight" I let out in a bullet-train speed.
"Oh sure." He smiled. "But do ask the person in front of the queue which will speed up things a bit for you" He further suggested.
"Thank you so much" I replied grasping my fists with gratitude.
The man in front was also a kind soul.
The gates were closing! With no time to lose, I grabbed my one-year old boy and released the harness on P and asked him to run and follow me quickly. I was carrying a big haversack on my back with my boy in front and running as fast as my legs could carry me in the bid to beat time. At the same time, I would turn my head to keep my elder boy in sight, calling out and signalling out to him to hurry up. That was the closest thing to competing in an Olympic race that I ever had.
We completed our race with flying colours. There were still people in the queue for our domestic flight. The gate had not closed yet.
The force must be with me. I could see spectacular bursts of delightful colours celebrating our triumph. I could see the people cheering for us as though we had won the Olympic games. We smiled and hugged each other tightly while gasping for breath all at the same time.
Toastmaster of the day.
Wednesday, January 14, 2009
Outlearning the Wolves
This is a summary of a fable (by David Hutchens) which I have read many years ago and re-read recently to my elder boy. Fables are very powerful as they can teach difficult concepts in a simple manner.
===========================================
For many years, the sheep were told by their ancestors that wolves ate sheep and that was accepted as the way things were always so.
One day, one sheep Otto challenged this belief. This got the flock thinking. That night the flock huddled and slept in a circle, with Otto guarding alone beside a tree. Next morning, Otto was missing.
Another young sheep Marietto rallied the flock, saying that they should think of a way to outsmart the wolves, building upon Otto's vision - no sheep shall ever die due to wolf.
The flock started thinking. There was a barbed wire surrounding the flock. In fact it has been raised to keep wolves out. There was no way for wolves to jump over the barbed wire. Marietto adjourned the meeting and asked the sheep to go back and think on themselves before meeting again in the afternoon.
At the start of the afternoon meeting, the flock were discussing aloud.
"I notice that the wolves seem to come more often after rain and not so if there is a drought."
"If I were the wolf, I will come everyday to feast on a sheep."
"COME HERE, COME HERE." Curly shouted, trying to catch his breath as he was running frantically from the river.
The flock followed Curly to the river side, where the flock used to get their drink.
Curly pointed his hoove at the lower end of the barbed wire. There was a clump of sheep wool.
"I got it. The wolves were crawling under the barbed wire!" Some sheep exclaimed.
"I guess they cannot swim."
"Ha, they are not so smart afterall"
The sheep laughed.
"But waited, previously, we were at the mercy of the wolves. Now we are at the mercy of weather, I mean there is no way we can control the weather." Some sheep lamented.
"Hey, I think we got it wrong. We cannot control the weather. But we CAN CONTROL the flow of the water." Gigi said as she began digging a circle around the river. The other sheep joined in, and Jeremeh pushed the stones with his nose to build a dam.
After that day, the flock had a beautiful pond to drink their water, play and enjoy. More importantly, the sheep stopped disappearing mysteriously.
But, maybe not for long - remember like the sheep, the wolves were also learning.
But then, that will be another story.
===================================
Morale of the story.
This fable teaches us about the five disciplines of the learning organisation by Peter Senge:
1. Systems Thinking - the problem exists in a wider context. The sheep disappearing is a function of not just the wolves but also the weather. If we can elevate our thinking to a higher level, we can see things from a far wider and new perspective.
2. Mental Models - we all have mental models. This is the way our brain helps us to filter the enormous information that is around us. It helps that we are aware of their existence 'cos not all mental models are always true.
3. Personal Mastery - in simple terms, it refers to people who are able to question long-held belief or assumption like Otto and Marietto in the fable. It takes courage to challenge these beliefs.
4. Shared Vision - not just a vision that is tossed out at us but a shared one. In the fable, the flock shared the Otto's vision that no sheep shall ever die due to wolves.
5. Team learning - each of us is capable of learning but if we could come together and put our skills together, we will excel even more. That's the power of synergy.
==========================================
What I have written is based on my shallow understanding of the book. If you are interested, grab a copy and enjoy :)
===========================================
For many years, the sheep were told by their ancestors that wolves ate sheep and that was accepted as the way things were always so.
One day, one sheep Otto challenged this belief. This got the flock thinking. That night the flock huddled and slept in a circle, with Otto guarding alone beside a tree. Next morning, Otto was missing.
Another young sheep Marietto rallied the flock, saying that they should think of a way to outsmart the wolves, building upon Otto's vision - no sheep shall ever die due to wolf.
The flock started thinking. There was a barbed wire surrounding the flock. In fact it has been raised to keep wolves out. There was no way for wolves to jump over the barbed wire. Marietto adjourned the meeting and asked the sheep to go back and think on themselves before meeting again in the afternoon.
At the start of the afternoon meeting, the flock were discussing aloud.
"I notice that the wolves seem to come more often after rain and not so if there is a drought."
"If I were the wolf, I will come everyday to feast on a sheep."
"COME HERE, COME HERE." Curly shouted, trying to catch his breath as he was running frantically from the river.
The flock followed Curly to the river side, where the flock used to get their drink.
Curly pointed his hoove at the lower end of the barbed wire. There was a clump of sheep wool.
"I got it. The wolves were crawling under the barbed wire!" Some sheep exclaimed.
"I guess they cannot swim."
"Ha, they are not so smart afterall"
The sheep laughed.
"But waited, previously, we were at the mercy of the wolves. Now we are at the mercy of weather, I mean there is no way we can control the weather." Some sheep lamented.
"Hey, I think we got it wrong. We cannot control the weather. But we CAN CONTROL the flow of the water." Gigi said as she began digging a circle around the river. The other sheep joined in, and Jeremeh pushed the stones with his nose to build a dam.
After that day, the flock had a beautiful pond to drink their water, play and enjoy. More importantly, the sheep stopped disappearing mysteriously.
But, maybe not for long - remember like the sheep, the wolves were also learning.
But then, that will be another story.
===================================
Morale of the story.
This fable teaches us about the five disciplines of the learning organisation by Peter Senge:
1. Systems Thinking - the problem exists in a wider context. The sheep disappearing is a function of not just the wolves but also the weather. If we can elevate our thinking to a higher level, we can see things from a far wider and new perspective.
2. Mental Models - we all have mental models. This is the way our brain helps us to filter the enormous information that is around us. It helps that we are aware of their existence 'cos not all mental models are always true.
3. Personal Mastery - in simple terms, it refers to people who are able to question long-held belief or assumption like Otto and Marietto in the fable. It takes courage to challenge these beliefs.
4. Shared Vision - not just a vision that is tossed out at us but a shared one. In the fable, the flock shared the Otto's vision that no sheep shall ever die due to wolves.
5. Team learning - each of us is capable of learning but if we could come together and put our skills together, we will excel even more. That's the power of synergy.
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What I have written is based on my shallow understanding of the book. If you are interested, grab a copy and enjoy :)
Sunday, January 11, 2009
Soft Sift in an hourglass
A few days ago, my husband passed me a book entitled "Soft Sift in an hourglass" by Rosalie Shaw. This book is a collection of stories told through the eyes of Rosalie Shaw, a doctor from Australia who came to Singapore to help set up the home care service of the Hospice Care Association.
Ironically, though the stories were about the end of life and death, there were much hope and resilence that resonated. Through my limited interaction with the volunteers at hospice care, many told me that they have also benefited as much, if not more than the patients from the volunteering experience. The hospice patients showed immerse courage in light of their health and continued to shoulder on, determined to live life to the fullest. They taught the volunteers that it is not about what life brings you, but what you live it that matters. They have such indefatigable optimism that rubbed on to the volunteers too.
I recalled my own experience of volunteering to deliver groceries to the poor. Though they were not rich materially, they were honest and generous with their thanks to a fault. They truly exemplify what Oscar Wilde said "Ordinary riches can be stolen, real riches cannot. In your soul are infinitely precious things that cannot be taken from you.”
Before I end this post, I will like to quote a reflection from a volunteer. "Many a times when people volunteer their services, they expect to learn about sufferings, pain and sadness. It is only after one steps in that one learns about love, joy and what it truly means to live."
Life can be unfair but it is still beautiful. Cherish it. If you could afford the time, help the less fortunate.
Ironically, though the stories were about the end of life and death, there were much hope and resilence that resonated. Through my limited interaction with the volunteers at hospice care, many told me that they have also benefited as much, if not more than the patients from the volunteering experience. The hospice patients showed immerse courage in light of their health and continued to shoulder on, determined to live life to the fullest. They taught the volunteers that it is not about what life brings you, but what you live it that matters. They have such indefatigable optimism that rubbed on to the volunteers too.
I recalled my own experience of volunteering to deliver groceries to the poor. Though they were not rich materially, they were honest and generous with their thanks to a fault. They truly exemplify what Oscar Wilde said "Ordinary riches can be stolen, real riches cannot. In your soul are infinitely precious things that cannot be taken from you.”
Before I end this post, I will like to quote a reflection from a volunteer. "Many a times when people volunteer their services, they expect to learn about sufferings, pain and sadness. It is only after one steps in that one learns about love, joy and what it truly means to live."
Life can be unfair but it is still beautiful. Cherish it. If you could afford the time, help the less fortunate.
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