Intermission

An intermission here. A break from just reporting my activities here in Vancouver. I was browsing through my hard disk, and I came upon these 3 articles by this guy called W@lker. I didn't realise I had kept these articles for 2 whole years, actually, more than 2 years. Think I'll share it out with you people here. I read these 3 articles more than 2 years ago, and yet when I read them again now, they gave me different feelings. What do you think of these 3 articles by W@lker?

First up:

A Walk on the Beach

Once, I found myself on a beach, without exactly knowing why I was there. It was just an urge inside me; a magnetism pull brought me there, telling me to take a walk on the soft brown sand, beside the blue sea. Have you ever had a sudden felling that you want, or even need, to go to a certain place or make a certain move? Well, that was it. It is, perhaps, this kind of magnetic effect between things that causes two people to come together without realisation of why they’re attracted to each other. Only after they’ve gotten together, they grow to know, for better or for worse, each other better and why they’ve gotten together in the first place.

As I stood on one end of the beach looking to the other, I made it my goal. A goal! A purpose! What a wonderful thing; something to work towards. Even in the smallest, most insignificant things, we try to find a purpose in them. Having a goal is akin to seeing a light in a long, dark tunnel, leading us to walk on towards it. The joy and hope it brings simply cannot be described with words. Walking and reaching the jetty at the other end of the beach became my goal then.

Yet, the end seemed so far away; so unreachable. How was I supposed to achieve it? Doubt creeps in. Oh well. Let me just take a first step. A step is always so small and easy. One step, then another, and another! Putting one foot in front of the other, taking these small, easy steps, I found myself moving towards that goal. When I finally took a stop in my tracks and had a good look, the end did not seem that far away anymore. A bit more distance to cover and I would have reached it. Funny how these seemingly insignificant, small, and easy steps, one by one, could allow me to cover such a large distance, bringing me closer to the goal, without me even realizing it.

However, when I turned around to look behind, a wave of sorrow swept over me. In moving towards the goal, I had moved so far away from where I started off. Just as I thought the end was far when I was standing at the beginning, then I felt the beginning was so far away from me. Isn’t the walk of life similar in a way? When you first started off, everything seemed so far and unreachable. Moving slowly, a day at a time, the next “checkpoint” seemed so much closer than you first thought. Before you know it, that “checkpoint” becomes a part of your life history and you are moving on to your next. In the process, however, you are moving away from where you started. Then you realize: innocence is lost. For some, they have travelled so far from their homes, their roots, their families. Looking back, you realise, in the process, you have gained much – and lost much.

By this time, darkness has crept in. The change from dusk to night went so fast, I felt I had not enough time to appreciate the beauty of the beach. I wished for more light to see my surroundings more clearly. Just then, realisation struck me hard. A smile broke out on my face. I began to laugh at myself for my silliness, that I actually wanted more light to see better. I started to appreciate my surroundings more; I started to appreciate the black sea, the black sand, the black shadows dancing all around me, for this is how the beach was supposed to be seen in the light of the night. Nature has its way of showing us different things in different ways at different times. How often have we asked for more “light” to see certain things better, in a “better light”, only to have the “light” blind us from seeing things the way they should be seen? Quick! Switch off your lights and be blinded no more.

And suddenly, I was lost.

Lost, not because I did not know where I was. Of course I knew where I was! I was standing on the sand, with the jetty in front of me, the sea to my left, the park on my right, and behind me was where I came from. I was lost because I did not know where to go. Should I continue in my “quest” to reach the jetty? It was getting late. Maybe I should turn back and walk back the way I came. Or should I turn towards the park and walk through it in the process of going back? By losing my direction, I was lost. People don’t get lost because they don’t know where they are; people get lost not knowing where to head to. When someone is in unfamiliar ground, not knowing where his location is, but if he is sure of where to head to next, he is not lost.

Turning around, I decided to just make my way back the way I came. Walking back on the same tracks I came by, I wondered how it would be like to be able to walk back in time. And I asked myself: Would I really want to go back in time even if I were able to? Would you?

W@lker

(First printed 10^th May 2003)