re-pivoting to the "why"

the realisation that work without an overarching perspective (and ~mood~) framing the context of why that work still matters to you on an individual level is mindless work that makes the process of toiling seem harder than the work per se.

when i was a sophomore in college i clearly remember chafing at having to do essays and readings bc i found the entire process pointless on an individual level - so much thought and effort culminating into a pile of essays that would land into the drive folder of one professor, subjected to the solitary judgement of an audience of one, who probably would only remember the brilliant pieces of writing that were not going to be mine. what made me feel alive was doing (what i thought at that point constituted) real work that dealt with the real world - crafting cold emails to people i had never met asking for sponsorship, filtering through the participant (or we called them "delegates") list to ensure all the right information were in place for the printing of delegate name tags meant for an upcoming model united nations conference (that students paid good money for to attend). in the context of college, i revelled in things of the "real world" because it gave me a sense of purpose that my toiling was going somewhere and value-adding to someone out there. 

ironically, it takes concerted effort to snap myself out of the monotony of the days folding into themselves after nearly a year of breathing in this "real world". virtual meetings after virtual meetings. google hangouts rage. piling to-do-lists. customer-facing decks to be drafted and presented. the inevitable administrative work that needs to be done to oil this machine. without conscious effort i find myself losing focus, losing purpose. 

and now, why do i work? 

i work to do the one thing that makes me feel alive - to create.

with my head, my heart and my hands. 

in hopes that that creation will be of value to my enterprise customers and colleagues. 

note to self:

put on some groovy music, enjoy the process of creating, irrespective of whether its office hours or not. irrespective of whether it feels wrong that you have to be working after working hours on some days to be responsible towards your stakeholders and personal work ethic; to be thankful that it is not the default expectation to do so. you need a serious mindset shift. 

as written in your v2mom vision: "to be always value-adding to my customers, lead SMs, account teams and the larger community by bringing to the table a can-do attitude, my point of view on solutions and product knowledge in pardot and marketing cloud."

sparking fires on the inside

the silver lining of being home for the most part has been the gift of time to sit with myself and just feel. am still learning the skill of being better at listening to my body and i think the difficulty comes from being accustomed to putting the business and personal work ethic before the self at work - most of the day is spent at work until the lines blur past-working hours, particularly in current times when the physical spaces remain unchanged from dawn till dusk. recently (thanks to a stay-home art kit that my colleagues sent to each of our houses using the company budget) i've started painting again - gradient sunset hues and random shapes in poorly blended colours passing off as "abstract art". i've been so inspired that i even ordered a set of watercolour pencils (the faber castelle ones - set of 36 that would have made tiny me green with envy) and paper so that i can revel in the act of creating. it brings me back to my childhood days where i used to spend all my leisure time on arts & crafts - my favourite books to borrow from the public library were children craft books on how to make a clay bracelet, or a book sleeve from outgrown pants and such. i used to spend so much time with my hands making things from scrap materials - ugly or not, they made me feel really happy as a kid.

being able to spend quality time on self-discovery is a gift because this period serves as a self-affirmation to what i've always known but never really coined into words - i feel alive when i am creating in the form of self-expression. with my head (professionally) - when i am able to create structure out of chaos and sieve ideas into handles, or organise haphazardly placed text into the right boxes or slides that together concisely contribute to a coherent, big-picture storyline. with my heart - when i am creating something out of nothing such as the articulation of an obscure thought or feeling in writing, reflected in the video snippets of life i painstakingly collect and piece together at the end of every year or significant journey, or even in the splash of colours on a page. with my hands and body - in moving my body and getting swept up in the pathos of a sad tune, in the instinctive rapper hands that have a life of their own when i'm in a good mood listening to a badass song, or even in the way i choose to dress and present myself to the world.

it's kind of strange how the traits i had as a kid that i thought i had long grown out of have in fact remained constant - albeit dormant but nevertheless unchanging, only to be amplified once i finally get the chance to sit, look back in retrospect and reflect. "what makes you tick?" is a question mentors in my company like to ask during our career/personal development coaching sessions. beyond the part of me that loves to create, there is also the part of me that loves to articulate - to stand in front of an audience and present with confidence on a prepared topic. i thoroughly enjoyed that moment where i presented in front of the panel of four directors/avps masquerading as customers (realise in retrospect that one of them is my current boss after feb's changes, how time reveals everything in a strange light) during the case presentation i had to go through to earn my current job. i also relished the moment i stood in front of GA faculty and peers to articulate the gist of my capstone which i had a love-hate relationship with - how alive i had felt when i knew i was doing my work justice and when my eyes met with the favourable smiles and nods from both my bae prof and eye-candy (intellectual candy?) prof - that moment still makes me smile and miss college alittle more than i felt it had deserved then. it all connects now: eight year old me stood in front of then-education minister teo chee hean (and distinguished guests consisting of teachers and parents) as one of the four emcees hosting the official opening ceremony of my neighbourhood primary school. twelve year old me stood in front of judges and students alike to articulate my piece of writing that eventually won the first-runners up prize at a national scrabble writing competition. in that same year, three of us impressed the judges with a presentation on climate change (i still remember one of enzo's lines opened with "professor stephen hawkings once said...") of the national sef oratory competition and walked away with gold, despite the fact that no one could remember what our school was called before and after we won. those moments were met with trepidation, yes, but also with fierce pride - the sense that i was living up to my potential, that i was pushing against boundaries and finding them broken by my own (or god's mighty) hand.

i recently bought a kindle and managed to get it reimbursed as part of the quarterly wellness allowance that we get as an employee perk. i've been reading literature books again - for the longest of time i stayed away because they weren't practical and i felt they were not going to get me where i wanted - the ideal job, mindset or growth etc. they are not practical, yes, but i have forgotten how much they make me feel like myself. i finished reading gilead today. i first fell in love with the prose of robinson's housekeeping, and to have experienced that warmth again today via the honey-like balm of words was both cathartic and nostalgic. somehow it brought me back to that particular night in mussoorie in 2015 - the night where my friend bohme and i were walking down the hill back to our himalayan dorm in almost pitch darkness and we were trailing behind the rest of our week 7 crew. i knew then that he used to be a poet before he chose the science track (and eventually computer science), and so i asked him if he wanted to hear my favourite quotes from my favourite book then. he said he would love to. in the darkness while watching our steps as we descended i read snippets of jeanette winterson's writing (from the book why be happy when you could be normal, or was it oranges are not the only fruit?). there was something about the stillness of the night that accentuated the weight of those words hanging midair, but there was so much beauty in that moment that i still vividly remember how that night felt like.

and so in robinson's words (from gilead) i close:

"memory can make a thing seem to have been much more than it was."

“i wish i could leave you certain of the images in my mind, because they are so beautiful that i hate to think they will be extinguished when i am. well, but again, this life has its own mortal loveliness. and memory is not strictly mortal in its nature, either. it is a strange thing, after all, to be able to return to a moment, when it can hardly be said to have any reality at all, even in its passing. a moment is such a slight thing. I mean, that its abiding is a most gracious reprieve.”

[and this is why i create videos]