Category / Self

by Eileen 配仪

Places of Happiness

Reading: The Mountains Are High by Alex Ash

2020, Dali became the new Italian or French country-side. It became romantic to leave the cities for agriculture, small B&B or just doing nothing more than surviving, rejecting the general markers of being successful.

Alex Ash moved out of Beijing to Dali after a heartbreak. By this time, he said that there was a huge movement in China to move back to the countryside. 30-40 years ago, the move to the cities for better jobs meant they could be richer than their parents. In those days, said my tour driver, he just had to show up in the city and there were people who didn’t care much about education and he was hired to operate something.  

The cities are now places of bad air, high prices, small apartments and  unfamiliar people who move in and out all the time. Most of all, the competition now made it hard to make money. 

The complains I am reading is the same that I see of Singapore on reddit. The complains about PSLE (“children should be children, why high stakes exam”), that boomers made heaps of money buying cheap landed houses (*eye-roll*), wanting early inheritance or for parents to be independently wealthy, the intense desire to stop working by 30 or 40 yet be richer than their peers at the same time, still doing frequent travelling, buying watches and bags to signal moving up the social and economic ladder. The only difference is, we have no countryside. Instead, the young started to fantasize about FIRE.

I find it honestly shocking for me to read about those who have worked to age 30 years announce retirement. It’s not the money. They just started adulting. The noise of ego rushing through their veins are still roaring in their ears. Have they realised that RE is probably the last flex they can shout about?  What will they flex for the next 20 or 30 years?

Maybe it’s an Asian thing. We can’t stop wanting to brag. When in their twilight years, when there is nothing more to brag, Asian parents bring up children’s achievements. It’s not competition ie the desire to one up. It’s to replace a feeling of emptiness – what am I without that thing I was proud of doing? 

I remarked (again)to my friend C that she is way happier after pivoting to her new work. I think this new work place is better than her old workplace even with the longer hours. We were chatting at lunch yesterday. I felt that I have moved into another phase of life where I am no longer fixated in certain things, I said.  She said it was the same for her too. Recently she realised she managed to achieved  lifestyle aims that she wanted when she was younger. It’s not material achievements but stuff such as just being happy and contented with life. More money is always well appreciated but life was ok. She was travelling as often as she could. Her job was fun and interesting. In her private life it was just family and boyfriend.

It made me wonder if I am in the same space she is inhabiting. I should be – writing, reading and painting and I finally got to sit down and watch TV. (We moved the TV to the living room for my husband to watch the football matches.) My friends said that I should exercise more and I have been doing it. I also managed to bring down my sugar level to normal. However, I am still feel a sense of anxiety. Maybe that’s normal. It takes time for the muscle to remember pleasant things.   

by Eileen 配仪

Finding relaxation

After providing my contractually required notice, I sat on it. I did my work as usual and kept silent about my resignation. I felt embarrassed and awkward. As if I’m caught coming out of the shower to get a forgotten bath towel. 

I know enough that to just disappear without saying a word appears rude. It felt strange bringing up something specifically non work with my work colleagues. 

I worried needlessly. Eventually appointments were made to take over some of my tasks and with that structure my brain found the words and courage to  inform my colleagues. I faded out.

~

The major change for me was that I didn’t need to get up at 4+ to make dinner for the day. Getting up at 4+ means setting an alarm at 3+ so I can hit the snooze button for an hour. Being able to be up at the same time everyone else did was a huge luxury. Not being exhausted is a huge luxury. I am now physically tired due to chores, or exercise but not exhausted to the point of it creating memory problems.

I should have tracts of time for self care and such. While my day was pleasant, it was not like the influencers and their dream like day, floating from one comfort to another. On some days, right after lunch I needed to work on dinner. Exercise wasn’t relaxing – it was clocking my steps, going through stretching which sometimes ate up all my hours and my energy. Chores was washing after washing. And painting was another brain bashing exercise. It was never relaxing for me. How could I be more relaxed?      

Instagram influencers cleaning their homes look like live-action magazine spreads. When I did it, I moved furnitures about, threw out things, deep cleaned cabinets by cabinets. Even then, my home did not look like a magazine spread. It just look less like, I’m a slovenly mom. Casting an eye about you will still see mess but maybe with the volume turned down. Some influencers with kids, showed themself doing self care, watching TV, cooking that little lunches for their child and then maybe a dinner out with husband. No conflict at all about homework and games. Perfectly relaxing day. 

~

My father came over for lunch and we were discussing someone else’s hoarding creating difficulty for their kids to find a place to stay. Since it was not about him, he said that well, this person should tidy up. “Just like you,” I said.  

He replied that when his Dad came to SG from malaysia, their business just failed. They had very little belongings so now, having belongings is very important to him. That sat with me for a week. Just to relax about life, my father felt the need to surround himself by useless piles.

Am I surrounding myself with unneccessary activities just so that I can feel relaxed about myself? Am I driving myself into exhaustion imagining the achievements I have made with the cleaning and tidying? I don’t feel relaxed painting. It creates a certain positive sort of tension – the desire to unlock different skill level like a computer game. 

~

Today instead of staying at home, I went out to a cafe to write this post. Instant relaxation. I didn’t think about washing the bathroom which occurs whenever I go to the toilet. I didn’t need to think about clearing the sink before I get a drink of water. I am calm and there is aircon from toilet to cafe. I don’t get up for a break and think that I should start lunch or dinner in between my typing. This is luxurious. I don’t wonder if I need to clean the floor because I’m wearing shoes and I can’t feel it is unclean.  I’m not surounding myself with activities. I just fail to relax because there is a lot of attention grabbing things. In a cafe there is a same look and there is nothing except chairs and tables. At home, each person’s table will have a different pile  – not untidy but just their own personality. The space has different items in it, tables, sofa, dining chairs and so on. It lacks the anonymous quality of the space and sound that a cafe has. How does anyone find a productive sort of relaxation at home?

 

   

by Eileen 配仪

Ants

A laughingthrush jumped down to snatch a snack from some red ants. The bird hopped and shook off the ants that got on its head. I woke up today from a bad dream of being suffocated by a bedsheet. I have been waking up from bad dreams daily, since last Friday. They are not terrifying as today’s. They are mostly work related and gave off a bad taste to one’s morning. I watched the birds for a while more and continued the slope upwards. At the top, I recognised the uncle who goes up and down the slopes repeatedly and we smiled hello. He is incredibly fit and looks like he’s 80. There was a bunch of elderly today whom I don’t recognise – I think they don’t live here. I reached the top leisurely without panting. Someone stopped to do sit ups. I am inspired to do another squat but the ants are everywhere. They are antsy from the rain. It was close to 8am. I decided that was enough and walked down.

My thoughts turned to the birds. They hopped about rather loudly on the branches. If a tree fell in the forest and nobody heard it, did the tree fall? Could birds cause rotten trees to fall in the forest just by landing on the branches? Possibly so – I thought, given a butterfly could cause a tornado elsewhere. Birds will know enough to pick those that are rotten yet continue to still stand. Could the ants have known this in advance – sufficiently advanced to move themselves out of harm’s way? We can’t hear doesn’t mean the creatures that live in that ecosystem doesn’t notice the tree falling. It just means a human did not notice. If a human didn’t notice a sound, the human could possibly also fail to notice the tree or the forest. But even if a tree made no sound, creatures living near the tree would know there was a tree. They would be surprised that it fell. The birds might murmur, ah yes, a long time coming. The ants vexed, throw up their antenna, crossed that they now need to rebuild paths. The dead tree might throw up some tasty morsel. It could also create new opportunities for others looking for a home.

by Eileen 配仪

Value, Joy, Work, Life. Basically, blah-blah-blah

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 5 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.

by Eileen 配仪

Funny thing, life.

Daily writing prompt
When you were five, what did you want to be when you grew up?
View all responses

It occurred to me that what I said I want to be, was merely a thing I did at 5. Being a pianist was one of them. I was indifferent to playing. My piano teacher heard this indifference. She also heard that I had no feelings to express and complained about it. The funny is, she heard me. This inner core that was the same from 11 to 50.

She put me to playing Bach after discovering that I could express Bach better than any other composers. It was a relief really, having to just execute the notes like an efficient typist. Mainly because there were less complaints, not that she stopped complaining.

I did eventually dislike practicing. I was beaten and shouted at over the piano a lot. So it’s a funny thing that 12 years ago or so, I went to buy a piano. I had no intention of wanting my kids to learn then. It was just a toy. I sing kids songs on it when they were small. The only closest use to actual music use was last year, for my daughter’s choir audition.

It stopped working a month ago. It wouldn’t turn on. I was ok until two repairers told me that there might not be parts.

My brain went into overdrive. There is absolutely no reason to replace it. I don’t play it more than 1 day a year. My daughter makes some songs with it but that’s about it. Yet, I want to replace it. The brain could not compute.

The funny thing about life is that at 5, this tiny person with a barely formed brain makes a decision – I want to be a pianist. And then at 50, despite having a logical thinking brain, this adult continues to (maybe) want to be a pianist.

It’s just like painting. An insurmountable mountain that I want to climb. Why? Maybe I just like suffering – who knows. I don’t care that it is a furniture for 364 days. Ok, likely way more. It’s just weird when it’s not there.

by Eileen 配仪

Fiscal Year End Review

What could you do differently?

In recent years, I’ve been summing up my full year spend. Predictabiy, I decide that figure is not to my liking and  that I have overspent. Invariably, I will put up effort to start the next year afresh, avowing to spend only x amount on toiletries  and food. I will also avow to take lesser taxi rides.

By the next year end, summing all my purchases of things and experiences, I will be aghast that spending lesser did not happen – my spend did not actually decrease.

By mid year, I have forgotten this vague promise to spend less. I replaced my devices. Signed up for art classes. More art materials. Etc. At the end of the year, after PSLE, I went feasting from one place to another without thinking much about it other than, oh, exam’s over, let’s tie our hair up and gorge. It wasn’t just restaurants. It was also random hawker center eating out just because. I don’t even remember some of these meals. 

If I were a better person, I would not bother with those vague promises. I would try to be more intentional with my spend. I doubt. I already detailed in Sheet5           that  my skincare budget consists of making flower water for toner.

by Eileen 配仪

On school and its difficulties

What was your favorite subject in school?

I was reading the responses from everyone who answered this prompt and I wondered why isn’t the answer “whatever I am good at”.

Isn’t it naturally for people like what they easily get high marks for?

Studying has always been a struggle for me. The odd thing is when I became older and nobody was forcing me to study, when I want to do something difficult out of boredom, I picked studying. Studying finance! Incredible, really. I can’t even figure out my own account and balance it. Needless to say it was a pain and I am mostly of the passed after fervent prayer sort. And this is after barely passing my undergrad majoring in accounting and economic history.

It is common for some people to have repeating nightmares. I consistently put myself in those nightmarish situations. I want to go back to school after I am done with work. Just to study again! Economic history and maybe econometrics!

But why? Why do I do things that are hard and I don’t even like them very much ?

by Eileen 配仪

ADHD, Art, Me

I asked for a referral for my son to be assessed and was turned down. I took out ADHD 2.0 (Edward M Hallowel and John Ratey) not knowing what else to do. I put it on the headset and continued on my excel. 

I began to cry right in the middle of chapter 1. (OMG what if someone telephoned me? Luckily that I was WFH from a sprain!) I felt understood. Like someone knows what is like to be me. Someone explained why I feel that my life seems more difficult, why I feel different from everyone else and why every pursuit of mine turned out to be hideously difficult, why I failed to continue writing novels, why I want to study after I retire, why I want to do art. It even explained why I always try and fail to see what others see me as. It’s like going to a tarot card reader or a psychic to ask about your difficult son and suddenly the psychic tells you everything you have experienced in your life so far.   

Yet I can’t link ADHD to me. I did suspect I have ADHD when I was younger.  I can’t see myself as  a stereotypical ADHD person yet it all makes sense (all those years of paying penalties and late fees, multiple planners and terrifying my husband with the fire left on and mostly picking up difficult things out of boredom). I think it is mainly because I haven’t had serious complaints that it interferes with others expectations of me at work or at school. I don’t feel I annoy anyone with this problem at school or at work. It doesn’t affect me as a normal contributing member of society. It annoys my friends a lot and my husband really a lot. I feel my other nicer parts of my personality make up for this particularly annoying part so it evens out.

So what does it mean to me now that I know I might have ADHD. At this age, I don’t feel it means something. If I was told sometime during the first 35 years of my life it would mean a lot. Most of all it will explain why I feel different during those years where I feel it is important to be the same.