dolor-o-phile
Dolor means pain.
I think I'm addicted to it...I think. Or maybe it's simply drawn to me. Stressful situations too.
In barely two weeks I experienced physical & emotional pain like a wannabe martyr flagellating himself during Lent. It's so difficult to keep a straight face and professional demeanor at work while your mind is constantly enumerating ongoing & potential problems in your life.
The reason why in spite of sleep-deprivation, heaviness in breathing and lack of practice, I agreed to perform in a piano concert last saturday was because playing the piano is the closest release and "other dimension"-type of activity that could provide me the antidote to depression. The pieces I chose were not the highly complicated type but the easy, emotional, abstract kind. I didn't really care if the audience practically snored or what. It's not about dexterity and bragging my piano knowledge; it's about temporarily transcending into a more peaceful mode. It's my drug. That and caffeine.
I just delivered my tenurial lecture yesterday and managed to deliver it without ever hurling. Yeah, delivering lectures is part of my job description but not really in front of colleagues and the college dean. I should pat myself in the back but the real motivation for me is the salary increase I could get for being tenured. Ka-ching. I didn't just write that out loud? *It's 2016 and I cringed when I read this post*
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On our way home, my husband and I encountered mother-and-child beggars and missionaries seeking alms. I still get that stabbing pain in my chest when I see them. I don't care whether they're professional beggars or whatnot but I still feel disheartened. There's nothing wrong with giving them alms and thinking straight. My grandfather always emphasized that if you have a little extra you should share it with someone whom you know can never pay you back, because when your time of need arises you just somehow miraculously end up getting what you need.
I think I'm addicted to it...I think. Or maybe it's simply drawn to me. Stressful situations too.
In barely two weeks I experienced physical & emotional pain like a wannabe martyr flagellating himself during Lent. It's so difficult to keep a straight face and professional demeanor at work while your mind is constantly enumerating ongoing & potential problems in your life.
The reason why in spite of sleep-deprivation, heaviness in breathing and lack of practice, I agreed to perform in a piano concert last saturday was because playing the piano is the closest release and "other dimension"-type of activity that could provide me the antidote to depression. The pieces I chose were not the highly complicated type but the easy, emotional, abstract kind. I didn't really care if the audience practically snored or what. It's not about dexterity and bragging my piano knowledge; it's about temporarily transcending into a more peaceful mode. It's my drug. That and caffeine.
I just delivered my tenurial lecture yesterday and managed to deliver it without ever hurling. Yeah, delivering lectures is part of my job description but not really in front of colleagues and the college dean. I should pat myself in the back but the real motivation for me is the salary increase I could get for being tenured. Ka-ching. I didn't just write that out loud? *It's 2016 and I cringed when I read this post*
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
On our way home, my husband and I encountered mother-and-child beggars and missionaries seeking alms. I still get that stabbing pain in my chest when I see them. I don't care whether they're professional beggars or whatnot but I still feel disheartened. There's nothing wrong with giving them alms and thinking straight. My grandfather always emphasized that if you have a little extra you should share it with someone whom you know can never pay you back, because when your time of need arises you just somehow miraculously end up getting what you need.
9:35 AM
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