Back in The Pore
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| Reunited with the Auntie |
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| Stranger Thing |
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| Lime juice and Teh Peng |
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| Did someone say PRATA?!?!?!? |
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| Also, MORE prata |
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| A big roll for some tasty sharing - Singaporean snacks are so without humour |
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| It isn't just about the crisps |
I am, quite simply, utterly exhausted. I have almost certainly not recovered from the stills of Jura, nor the mountain climb of last year. But, as they say, All's Well That Ends Well, but my god, I have actually never felt like I am in recovery upon arrival to Singapore. I usually feel tired, but not like THIS. Not like utterly gone to pieces.
It will be fine, I just need to take it super easy. I need to ensure that I give myself time for recovery. Which is what I said I would do in Singapore. But there is also an impatience that I'd just really like to get up and get going with it, instead of feeling like I am wading through an invisible fog.
However when I read my list of things there which have challenged and vexed me... I also realise what a cry baby I am.
For instance, Class Six - it is as if as a little vessel we have steered through the choppy waters, sometimes got marooned in shipwrecks and storms and finally found our way to a safe port. Every single one of us, and that includes me, has not completed this journey as the same person. We are all transformed. As I look at my crew, I feel a deep sense of pride. A feeling that we all did it.
The school's growth this year - sorely needed but also it gives me a warm sense of satisfaction that I may have had a small part to play in it. That we had gone out to say what we needed to say and people listened and went, yes, we'll have some of that please, thank you.
The gallons of wine were also matched by lots of running but also many nights spent laughing with friends. So many bonds were forged this year - some not just with wine, but also with tears and just holding onto each other. Walking, arms around each others' shoulders to make it through to the end.
And I am so grateful for friends. Sometimes I wonder why anyone would be my friend. But I am struck by wonder that I have so many incredible friends. People who are warm and genuine and loving and thoughtful and kind and who would do anything for you, you'd only just need to ask. People who struggle and who are honest, who walk even though their hands and knees are bruised and bleeding. People who let me in, whom I have let in. Who love me even though I am not perfect. Who let me love them, let me share their lives with them. I am so so grateful for those connections which have spanned space and time. Thank you.
So what does it matter that it is a tiny bit broken my body? And not seriously broken either. Just very very VERY tired, nothing which a few days of taking it easy would not solve.
And speaking of my body, how grateful am I that I have it. My body which has born my spirit and soul, a vessel, through the threshing which I give it. I am not grateful enough to it. Not kind enough to it. I would never EVER want to be some kind of fitness or diet freak, but I do need to understand that it is really important to make sure I look after it. It is 2 am, the usual time I am awake on night one.
Finally I am grateful for family. That my family are the family which I have. They have put up with me through everything. How can I possibly thank them for it? I am a terrible terrible daughter. And they are just endlessly forgiving about the shit I have dragged them through.
So, here I am, back in Singapore. It feels different, and I still haven't figured out why. I have a feeling I will soon though. Looking forward to the next six weeks.
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