13/02/2017

This afternoon I sat in a ray of sunshine and felt anxiety creeping up on me as I looked at my half finished essay on chinoiserie and women (so much pleasure, so little time) and then at the clock, at the copious scribbles and notes on my left hand in my brown note book and then back at the clock and the word document.

Just before that I walked, granola-in-mug-in-hand, another essay in other hand (with pasted apology note for just one essay instead of two), in my pajamas to the plodge and deposited the latter. The former left a sillage of toasted coconut and caramelised maple syrup through the air and I thought of the founders of SPOONs Cereal, who just decided to start a granola company in their kitchen. (Also, granola can be made in a mug in the microwave - who knew? Life changing discoveries.)

I had a drawer of love letters to give out, the products of late nights listening to buzzing music and thinking of puns, and I brought them to Just Love and gave them to some of my favourite people in Cambridge, and then sat back, legs outstretched before me and thought how thankful I am for these people. Although I only see them once or twice a week, and I haven't had a proper conversation with every single one of them, I know that they are good, caring people and that part of their big love for the world has fallen on little old me.

I have some left, and an infinite number unpenned, mostly to all the people I love so much my heart aches back in Singapore. Family, Emily, Christy, Wei Xin, Ellis, Nat, Luk Ching, Claire, Prisca, Gloria, Agnes, Toby, James, Chris, Alicia, Rebecca(s),  Grace(s)... I thought of the imaginary glue bond Emily and I used to pretend existed to stick our sides together, and imagined what strength it was made of, for it exists still, over oceans. And then there is the love letters I pen in my head when I walk past a stranger who smiles, or when I see a child being a child, or when I witness random acts of gentleness and compassion. And what about all those love letters to God? So many unwritten, so many that should be written that I don't even know should be written.

After Just Love, I came back to dinner and college group which was on Psalm 27, which ends:

I remain confident of this:
    I will see the goodness of the Lord
    in the land of the living.
Wait for the Lord;
    be strong and take heart
    and wait for the Lord.