“Someday someone won’t be afraid of how much you love. They won’t stay on the shore; they’ll meet you in the depths.” 

In the throes of writing and devising for my next theatre production, with its requisite bumps, I’ve been taking stock of how freaking lucky I am to have more than one such person in my life right now.

There are the constant, near-daily presences.

My dearest inner circle, A and R, who love me and support me through every setback and achievement and letdown and joy. They are the two I called when shit hit the fan, when I needed help late at night at one of my lowest moments. Whom I know love me for who I am, flaws and all, but yet choose to see the very best in me time and again. Who continually choose to show up and do the work, in ways big and small. And for whom I do all of the above, readily and willingly.

Then there are the loved ones I see every few months, but whom still put in the effort to love me. (And I, them.)

Like J and S, two dear ex-colleagues from my brand consulting days, whom I met for lunch today. We’ve since moved on to do different things, but back in the day we made a wonderful team. I’ve always had nothing but immense respect for the talent and craft of these two ladies. Now they are working moms and wonderful parents to their boys, and I am a full-time theatre practitioner; newly-single, dating again. So our lives look very different. And that difference scares me (and perhaps, us all, at different times). And yet, they take the time to understand my world. To tell me they love and support me through it all. That they know I’ll figure out the setbacks along the way. To ooh and aah and giggle girlishly at who I’m seeing. And then tell me they’re so happy I’m happy.

Or L, who gave me a beautiful blue kyanite crystal the day before, when I told her about the tough time I was having with the show I’m devising. She did it so readily and so generously, and she just wanted me to be okay. You may chalk this down to coincidence, but it makes me smile to think that the very day she gave me the crystal, my situation came to a resolution.

I guess what I’m trying to share is, this thought has bounced through the walls of my mind for a while now : It is through the kindness and love of others that we flourish.

S once painted something for me. She gave it to me on my last day at work, leaving the safety of full-time employment, as I took the plunge to pursue theatre. With tears in her eyes, she said, “I really believe this about you, babe. You’re so brave. And we are here for you okay?”

The painting said, in white words on a blood-red background –

“She took the leap

and built her wings

on the way down.”

Two and a half years later, it turns out she knew me better than I knew myself.

That I did, babe. That I did. With all of your help.

moulting.

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So I was stopped in my tracks by this amusing sight one sunny Sunday afternoon, outside Marina Square. Just this lone pigeon, peacefully pottering down an empty corridor. An odd pigeon, strolling through life.

I have been gone for a year now, chiefly dealing with life and work and its many roller-coasters. Much has happened. My absence coincided with a need to disappear into the seams of my life, to privately deal with the stuff that was impossible to articulate or share publicly.

You see, M and I decided peaceably to go our separate ways. We are still friends, but we are no longer together. We are both fine, in the bigger scheme of things, and healing in our own time.

On top of that, 2015 has been pretty rewarding work-wise, with many new challenges and opportunities to be thankful for. Projects like Checkpoint Theatre’s “Normal”, or The Studios : fifty’s “Selected Works of Tan Tarn How”, or doing a voice-over for a children’s animated series, or being drenched for 7 hours straight for a TVC shoot. You get put in front of this crazy challenge, and each time you go “Oh fuck I have never done this before, will I be able to do this?”, and then somehow you do. With varying degrees of success, but you do your very best, and you learn your inner critic is the one you need to please; not anybody else.

Despite these projects, there have been typical freelancer-style nail biting moments of “will I get work this month?”, but I have more often than not heaved a sigh of relief because some small (but no less treasured) job comes along and stacks upon the others and tides me through the month.

… And I turned 30 this August. 30 used to scare me but now I’m glad I can claim that age. To validly own its weight and its heft. Was it Anna Kendrick who said something like, “I love turning 30 because I feel in your 20s you stay out late and you kinda feel you have to. But now I can say, I’m 30 dammit and I’m heading home at 11 to kick off my heels, snuggle under a blanket and watch a TV show.” Yah.

So yeah. Here I am. Doing this thing. This theatre thing; this life thing; this new beginnings thing. And it’s scary, joyful, heartbreaking, uncertain. And I’m feeling everything keenly. Soaking it up.

And if you stopped by via my old blog, thank you for sticking around 😉 I treasure the company.