Almost two months into the sabbatical

trekking the Bukit Timah hillListening to my body

Almost two months have passed. Physically, I have rested well. This April and May has been months when I listened closely to my body. Whenever I felt tired, I laid in bed and napped or slept. Most mornings I do not force myself to wake up. So it has been usually 8.30am or 9am when I have my breakfast. They say this is the best way to know how much sleep you need. My tentative conclusion is that I need about 8-9 hours of sleep each day.

Though I began with walking and jogging at the Chinese Garden, my preferred form of exercise and recreation is still trekking. So I have revived my Saturday trek with friends, and above that, during the weekdays I try to trek once or twice at Bukit Timah Hill or MacRitchie.  Such treks are gentle on the knees and on the heart. The air is great and the forest sounds and sights perk me up. Over the several weeks, I have been gradually trimming down and firming up.

Outside enrichment

The AGST MTh(Ed) modules were fun and the subjects and readings, lectures and interactions have been fruitful learning experiences for me. Forcing myself to research, reflect and write my papers have also been pleasantly smooth riding, despite my early anxiety.

Helping out as a facilitator once a month with the Focused Leaders Network (Church Resource Ministry Singapore) together with James Creasman, Bishop Moses Tay, and Rev. Walter Lim has been enjoyable. This is a platform for me to journey with pastors, in this instance, pastors from the Foursquare denomination in Singapore.

Spiritual refreshment

More time also meant more time for meditation, reading, reflection, prayer and journaling, and listening to sermons with my wife, mostly Paul White and Andrew Wommack. This last month I have been slowly nourishing my soul on Psalms 42 and taking time to pour out my heart or be quiet before Him.

Visiting churches as a layman is so nice, so nice. To be free from having to preach or minister and to fuss over program or people problems is like one prolonged sigh of relief. It was plain good, a cosy and relaxing change. It was pure indulgence: like peering into the horizon with sunglasses, and sipping watermelon juice at a beach, as white clouds quietly tiptoed by. And then being able to indulge my spiritual palate in different church services and sermons, like a wandering charismatic, has become a prolonged epicurean feast I hope I do not become addicted to.

Anxiety squashed by word

Even as the days passed, colourful as they were, with a Kuala Lumpur jaunt and a chest thumping week of witnessing the Singapore election, anxiety about whether the days were productively spent bugged me for a while. For a Singaporean, even resting and restoration is an objective to strain for. So as the days passed quickly you wondered if God will get everything done that I wanted Him to get done in me. Mercifully, some peace prevailed after the Lord gave me a status update, “Enjoy each day as a gift and trust Me to accomplish in you all that needs to be accomplished by the end of the sabbatical”. That is so assuring and going forward, I will rest on that word.

Google reader

Recently, I have also learned how to use the Google Reader. Transferred all the blogs and websites I usually read from my blogroll and Favourites and moved them all there for efficient access and pleasure. This has been available for some time, but I am usually a late adopter when it comes to such things. I am still not on Twitter.

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Found in Perth: my maternal great grandfather

my mum's sister Florence and Jenny, my wife

Aunty in Perth

We took the train and she picked us up in her new Toyota. Yes even the retired widow can afford to buy a brand new car. Eat your heart out, Singaporeans. It was nice to visit her in her modest but clean and tidy home with a well maintained backyard garden. We chatted over coffee. This was the aunty who went forth with her nursing qualifications and worked overseas in England, Kuching, Brunei, and Australia. She stayed in Australia because she fell in love and married a Caucasian Australian.

Roots in black and white

She showed us her photo album and I struck oil. A black and white photo caught my attention. “Who’s this?” “Its my grandfather and your great grandfather.” “Do you know anything about him?” I queried eagerly at the prospect of fitting in another piece of my ancestry. Of course I know my spiritual ancestry but I find it interesting to fill up the blanks in my past. “No I know nothing about him.” Sayang. There is a picture, and a list of names written on the back of some envelope. That’s all. Below is the picture and the names of the great grand uncles and aunties, some of whom are in Singapore, in Kuching and who knows where else. Maybe by typing their names somebody may stumble on this post, and make contact, and I’ll get more information !

my maternal great grandfather: who's the real boss?

Standing Left: Joseph >Henry; Patric; Anna; Arthur >Lydia; Phylis; Bery

Second from Left: John >Philip; Ida; Mabel; Ada; James; Harry; Lily; Florence > all my siblings and cousins.

Third from Left: Andrew> Dot; Thomas.

Fourth from Left: Julia > Chan; Tay > Chan -Maud; Helen; Cecilia; Dolly; Tay-Henrietta; Hilda; James.

Fifth from Left: Mary > Lily Chee; Thambb(?)

Sixth from Left: Allen > Meg; Paul; Winni; Sysl; Amy; Rose; David; Lily; Augusta; Michael; Morgan; Henrietta.

Seventh from Left: Sammule (Samuel?) > Soong —: Lawrence.

Eighth from Left: Charles > Josephine; James; Min; Kit; Rosalind; Soon Siang.my great grandfathers surname in Chinese script

Seated from Left: Great grandfather

Seated second from Left: Henrey (the towkay, I surmise by his posture)

Seated third from Left: the great grand stepmother.

I also found out their surname in Mandarin, which I cannot read (see right).

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Chinese surname confusion

Alan and PennyWhen I asked Alan Hiu from Kuching, Sarawak,  about his unusual surname, he explained that different dialect groups would pronounce it differently. “What about my surname?”, and I wrote the Chinese strokes for Chee in the air. He gave me a lesson on it: the Hockchiew (my father’s dialect) would call it “Hee”; the Cantonese would call it “Hui”; and the Hokkien would call it “Kho”. So how did I end up with Chee. My surname is Chee because it was transliterated according to sound by civil servant, and Hee became Chee. If they had gone by my mother tongue, my name would have been Kenny Kho or Koh.

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