Introspection + Contemplation + Ideals

Coming out of university, I felt the pressure to identify myself for the rest of my life. Who am I? What was I to become? Someone great? Software developer? Engineer? All sorts of titles emanated from the dominant and impenetrable corporate monoliths.

A few days ago, I was asked by a coworker, "what is your brand?" All new hires in our company go to a huge convention to get indoctrinated in the ways of the company. And there, we are convinced that we work for a great company and we are told to develop our "brand" - what you are known for.

While this is good advice, and I still believed in most of the corporate indoctrination, the question didn't sit well with me - "what is your brand?" I mean I believe in striving and developing myself in a broad sense, but to state my "brand" then and there... In the few moments of the conversation, the concept of my "brand" became a cliche to me.

In a few words, how is it possible to explain yourself? - as if to pitch a business idea in an elevator. How is it possible to explain who you are, everything you do in the different facets of your life, every meaningful thing you believe in, in a mere sentence?

I believe who we are encompasses our whole lives - beginning to the end. We are like a book, and a day of our lives is a page. Who you see now, who you judge me to be... can only have come from the few pages you've seen.

And anyone that quickly assumes you fall into some category, and doesn't bother with getting to know you... there is a category they will quickly fall in to - I'm sorry to say.

"What is your brand?"

Honestly, I don't feel like selling right now... so keep reading.

Which to me is about thankfulness.

In the past, I used to think that I didn't need money and wealth because I found contentment; I need very little to be happy.

For my parents, it was different because they grew up in a country rebuilding after war. For them it was a world where everyone was trying to survive and get ahead. But here I am, thinking at one point that I was enlightened and better than this.

Of course it's easy to think like this when I have not tasted poverty and have been well provided all my life.

Question:
So then which is it?

Is it the fact that I've lived a good life, with much support from family and friends that I can say I am humble and thankful? A result of exterior influences?

Or is this something in my core, that would be thankful and humble despite hardship and injustice?

Answer... sort of, not really, more questions:
If the answer is both external influences and internal character, then I can accept that. But then I'm left to wonder, in the truest sense of introspection, what kind of person I would be in a hostile environment.

If I grew up in a country with poverty, in a broken family, and hence felt a huge sense of injustice at the world... would I still be as I am now? Or would I be bitter and full of anger. But then am I now legitimizing those that do bad things because of their external influences?

Or for those that have been given so much and are still not content, that still have a sense of injustice, greed and entitlement... are they to be pitied because they can't find contentment even with so much?

Or does this really matter at all? Don't worry because I still remain thankful and content.
Hmm... Paul did speak of the secret of contentment. I wish I could speak to him now...

Perhaps this is an overdose of introspection and my head hurts.
I think I will move on to more productive things.

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.