On the Cusp of Magic

It is good not to know where I am headed because the moment I do, I lapse into arrogant predictableness. So I esteem a life sprinkled by unexpected occurrences, to be on the cusp, flowing from one state to another, riding on the exhilarating confluence of change. I wish to adhere only to the rules of the boundless universe, free from being accountable to any structure. Buoyed by the rhythm of the waves with a steady movement forward, without a clear destination. So long as the river is headed towards a fertile river basin, I can live with the occasional plunging gorge.

I am currently in this bobbing inter-state position, flitting from stable to dynamic, and quite enjoying it. It is an instinctively sensorial, enlivening, novel, and curiously productive space, prime for absorbing the fats of spontaneity and incubating a fledging mid-life renaissance.

Once a land-body who will never step out of measured borders to stay high and dry at all times, I am like an orangutan under siege in water, learning new skills. Orangutans are famously avoidant of water. Interestingly, I make reference to an orangutan with an image of primates living in wild jungles, and not the ones we see at the zoo. I must have seen my first orangutan in Sarawak as a child, in East Malaysia. Though I have lived the majority of adult my life in Singapore, I never outgrew my childhood rambling amidst the jungles of Brunei and Sarawak, both on the coast of the gigantic and magnificent island of Borneo.

The devouring all-pervasive jungle green cover shrouds my memories like a thick paste that sticks to my skin. I can still smell the pungent and putrid scent of rotting leaves under the baking gaze of the Bornean unrelenting sun. When evening comes, sweet aromas arrive as the yin and yang of the jungle settle to a hypnotic blend of alluring mystique. Birds chirp, rivers whirl, mosquitoes buzz, snakes slide, leaves crackle and the odd head hunter whizzes by, invisible to all. Not forgetting the stunning sunset at the coast once you break through the jungle. I recall staring at the retiring sun from the beaches of Brunei, where nothing separated me from the twinkling expanse of the South China Sea, stretching all the way to China. I was abuzz with dreams, there was so much this fascinating world has to offer.

The essence of life as I knew it in childhood, with all its hope, adventure, and eccentricities, particularly the wandering jungle adventures has come back to visit me, more and more at mid-life. Beckoning me to leave my reinforced urban and gilded shutters to enter a more primal, unformed, and original state. Just when I think I have acquired the passport to everlasting bliss and security, l began to have serious doubts.

Apart from the physical impulsiveness to dive into the jungle which is hardly realistic in Singapore, I began to flow surreptitiously into a more malleable psychological state of mind, just like those of a child. I find myself dreamy and brimming with eclectic ideas without judgment. Mental malleability has a way of containing the most challenging materials of life – separation, loss, disappointments, and all things unrequited. Not to be mistaken as a form of weakness or malingering or giving up. Malleability in the very young and old catalyzes brain neuroplasticity, arousing the brain to make new connections, regenerate across unfertile and deeply furrowed parts. A renewed enthusiasm for an uncharted voyage has great reawakening and healing potential. It certainly triumphs a life that is over-reliant on meticulous preparation to avoid threats and laying out straight paths to a fortified future. The child in me is asking sardonically if that fortification is all there is to the movie of my life.

Too many years of straight walking has inflicted a conditioned fear in me, of veering off plotted fences. But not to be outwitted, I bolted up, admitted penitently to my child self that she is right, that I do have much more in my movie reel than what has been shown thus far. That the latter part, a sequel of sorts, will be my magnum opus, I emphasized! Too proud to admit, I am grateful to my impetuous child self for unsettling me into this strange sojourn.

A consequence of this preference for meandering states is an aversion of assured consistency cum being non-committal to any treacheries of the same-old. Hence an unprecedented boldness and foolhardiness to say “no” to “good” things and “yes” to “odd” things. Even when the logical answers are obvious for all intents and purposes. Sabotaging routes to a more robust career or lucrative deals count as serious side effects. Dumbfounding me, who profess to be otherwise a highly analytical, calculative, and logical being.

The upside is the emergence of a more astute, incisive, self-preserving, yet malleable self who basks in long stretches of guileless self-rejuvenation, investing only in meaningful gigs and work. Always being on the cusp of something, moving to unfamiliar places, in-between flowing states is hard work and a busy place. Agitated on the inside, never allowing things to solidify, always stretching. Like a child enjoying the serious work of imaginary play. However an increasing self-mastery, deepening sense of vocation, growing capacity to hold complexity, and to wait things out, serve as prized rewards - incubating a possible second renaissance.

I am happy to say now, each time I get transported back to the dazzling Bornean beach when I first dreamt of how I will grow up, I think have not let myself down. Dwarfed by the sun-drenched colored skies, I am with the soaring birds. The sense of adventure, thirst for limitless possibilities, and youthful ambition are still very much alive, albeit slightly mellowed. It is robust from within, still waiting to defy the odds, to yield magic yet. 

 

Han Li June