Introspection + Contemplation + Ideals

Dreams are supposedly hard to remember because we don't access our long term memory when we dream. That's why we forget them so easily. In my lifetime, I've had some interesting dreams... of which I've forgotten most. I just know I had them... I think. But there have been two such dreams which were very vivid and which I remember to this day.

During my last year of university, I was extremely stressed and approaching a breaking point. I was doubtful of my future and felt no control of my destiny, regardless of how much I tried. Where was my life to go? I faced the possibility of going nowhere with no undergrad degree, no prospects. This future, or lack of it, was very real and tangible. And the thought of any Biblical story was far from my mind.

Then one night, out of nowhere, I dreamt of Peter walking on water toward Jesus from Matthew 14. It was vivid like a movie playing in my mind. The viewpoint was from Peter's eyes and I remember walking out on to the water and looking down at my feet.

Have faith like Peter and you can do great things. A voiced lingered in my mind.

Although Peter eventually felt fear and fell into the water, he had the initial faith to step out and walk.

Have faith like Peter and you can do great things.

This message has had a profound impact on my life. With God holding me together, I got through it. I did graduate, I got a job against all odds and I found a purpose. I am so thankful for this and I know that there is work to be done.

Another dream I had was several years prior to the one above. This other dream was of the scary kind.

The morning of September 11th, 2001 at around 7:50 am... yes, the day of the attacks on the World Trade Center, I awoke from a nightmare.

In the dream, I had the sense that the end of the world was coming - dread, fear and panic.

I was on my 11th floor apartment balcony facing the east. My mom and I, we were looking to the sky and it was red and we could feel intense heat on our skin. Up in the sky, hurling towards us were four fireballs. At these times I wish I could paint like Renoir.

"What does it mean?"
"What does it mean to you?"
I simply don't know, but there were four planes that crashed that day and many people died. I suppose the dream was like a "disturbance in the force".

God works in mysterious ways, and he is not always clear to us and things become evident much later. I believe God speaks when He so chooses.

There have been times in my life where it was absolutely hopeless; A place where my spirit was broken. I did everything possible according to my own strength and still failed.

And to this very day and many years to come, I remain utterly thankful for the life given to me.

Many years ago, my beloved Athos gave me a fountain pen as a gift. I was taken aback by the elegance of the writing instrument. The curves, the weight and the power; the smooth yet textured feeling when writing with it, is unmatched.

Unfortunately, the ink did not flow to see great poetry nor the signing of extravagant checks. It saw mostly the writing of calculus formulas, the scribbles of the writer dozing off in lectures and the occasional doodles.

Being in the IT business, I no longer write much with a pen. Instead, the keyboard has become my pen... and coffee has become my ink.

How I do miss those days of writing.

But I suppose if I dwell on this pen too much, I am missing the point. I suppose the point is really about writing, speaking, thinking and ultimately, expression.

This blog has been a joy because it gives me the freedom to write. And as my dear philosopher friend quotes an article in her blog - "Blogs are by nature very personal—an intimate, often ferocious expression of the blogger's passions"

Although the fountain pen, the mighty fountain pen may be dead, may you live to express freely.