I happened to, while clicking links, read Investment Moats Kyith’s experiences on ancestral praying.

Now here is mine. I cooked this. While it’s not as fabulous as my husband’s nephew K’s vegetarian feast, my mouth did water as I was putting it down. It looked delicious and I decided to snap a picture. My sister in law would purchase praying sessions. I am more DIY, just chanting scriptures that I am familiar. I’m not that familiar. (Again, K is amazing – he knows enough to lead a home prayer session.) I’m just not so organised and in the know what and where to do these things.

Kyith’s musings and my bold and italics:

These sessions is even worse for me because… as a finance blogger for the longest while, it is unlikely you can take the part about measuring intrinsic value, extrinsic value versus what we had to pay. All of these sometimes mesh between

1. We are going to throw most of these away and these are just paper we burn. Should we spend so much?
2. But we got to do it in a traditional way. Do we need to buy XXX, buy YYY or are one of these optional (that is not part of the tradition)?
3. Are we really going to throw these food that is actually eatable away like that?
4. I wonder if I am doing the minimal and I should do more?

As a finance blogger, he can’t help thinking about value vs the effort. He can’t stay in the moment.

The real value is being in the moment. Saying hello aloud or silently to those who are not in the flesh next to us. Praying aloud or just staying silent. The real value isn’t the amount of visible offerings (all edible if you cook it yourself or buy from a vegetarian shop that you like). He went on further to muse what really is independence. After all, he is a FI/RE blogger. He wondered aloud if we work or desire for FI/RE due to external or internal motivations or fears.

I think the FI/RE movement reinforces fears and insecurities about money. The endless computations and musing trying to figure out whether it is enough, then the endless computations how to take the money out. Thinking of these fears is rather comforting. These fears are legitimate enough reasons to permit inaction. To strike a different path washes away the illusion of safety. But life is unsafe. From precarious pregnancies to growing up as a young adult and eventually as an old person. Life is always trying to kill us. Bankrupt us even for trying. The battle isn’t trying to make the risk as small as possible. (Gasp! But you are a risk manager, Eileen.) Really, it is not. It is just figuring out enough of the path, trying it out, yes, there is enough to go around.

Money wise, I can appreciate why some, like a close family member, choose to be ultra frugal to the point of obsession. It’s part of their joy. (We do love to suffer.) There could be others who take pride in the amount of money that they have accumulated over time. The nice title that they retired with. It is part of their joy and identity.

Which brings me to this news article from CNA of a SAHM, Ratna Damayanti Taha who won the Epigram 2026 Epigram Books Fiction Prize. Those very much into the numbers would be interested to know the prize is $25,000. She worked for 3 months from Feb to June 2025 to earn this money. Some of those who hunker down with a huge portfolio probably have dividends multiple times of this money in a year. Some adults with nice titles earn that much in a month. That is not the point of this prize, I assure you. The point is that she achieved her dream to be published and distributed all over SEA. She has a master’s degree but chose to be a SAHM. Her ambition and interest did not go away. She probably submitted way more often. She revised and re-worked and wrote really fast to be able to submit and win the Golden Point and Epigram Books Prize. That is serious determination and discipline. How did she write that fast? The organisation also took a huge risk – not just on an unknown. How will these books sell with declining readership and everyone’s eyes on a video screen?

I have always been embarrassed and uncomfortable about my writing. I am bad at plotting. I am also bad at just forming beauty. I compare myself with all the literature greats. I am also bad at telling people I write. I have no such hang ups about painting. I started out from stick figures and a D in art at school. Whatever I am doing is a lot of hard work – I have no innate artistic talent. I picked it up mainly because it is something I totally don’t know how to do it. Art is totally unrelaxing for me. It is extreme stress to battle water being too wet or too dry, the colour being too much or not enough. It forces me to be in the moment. Funny that I am unable to stop carrying this ego and unnecessary chatter while writing. I can’t even write a blog post fast. I’m writing and backspacing this thing. It’s a wonder that I can post this.