He calls...
and asked "choose a beach!" And I knew something was up. Jerudong beach is our out-in-the-open sanctuary of sorts and that's when we are at our most vulnerable. But at times, I think we need to find that in ourselves in order to understand who we are and where we're going wrong.
I told him that I cannot provide answers nor will I suggest solutions because I find myself the perfect outlet/sounding board. I will listen intently and YOU have to be the one to come to a decision, not me.
But for him to reveal that side is difficult. In the centre of it all, he is still a man. Fully equipped with an ego, it's only natural that the single act of sharing his weaknesses and insecurities feels like self-betrayal. And it is especially so when the person you're telling is judging you. But I do keep reminding him that I don't judge what people do. It's not my place to.
So things were dumped off his shoulders, a huge weight off his chest and we just lay there on the rocks.
I've learned the value of words. I've studied them in uni and I work with them on a daily basis. But spending time with him has taught me that the best messages are never uttered nor written. It is in the way they hold your hand, sling your arm over their shoulder, or lean on you that says everything you need to know. The puppy-dog eyes that stare back at you scream out what they need. And usually when we don't understand why a person does a certain thing is because we fail to pay attention to these very physical messages. I'm not saying that we should all be studying each others' body language but perhaps be attentive enough to realise the messages.
***
I've spoken to Mummy about coming back home and the first thing she asked was whether I wanted her curtains (cos our rooms have the same shape) as she was looking to change hers. We talked a bit about colours and patterns, obviously avoiding the topic of "why?" but I knew that she was just glad that I'm coming home.
Home... that's a word I've only used recently. If it's true that Home is where the Heart is, then my Heart is here, where it should have stayed a long time ago.
I told him that I cannot provide answers nor will I suggest solutions because I find myself the perfect outlet/sounding board. I will listen intently and YOU have to be the one to come to a decision, not me.
But for him to reveal that side is difficult. In the centre of it all, he is still a man. Fully equipped with an ego, it's only natural that the single act of sharing his weaknesses and insecurities feels like self-betrayal. And it is especially so when the person you're telling is judging you. But I do keep reminding him that I don't judge what people do. It's not my place to.
So things were dumped off his shoulders, a huge weight off his chest and we just lay there on the rocks.
I've learned the value of words. I've studied them in uni and I work with them on a daily basis. But spending time with him has taught me that the best messages are never uttered nor written. It is in the way they hold your hand, sling your arm over their shoulder, or lean on you that says everything you need to know. The puppy-dog eyes that stare back at you scream out what they need. And usually when we don't understand why a person does a certain thing is because we fail to pay attention to these very physical messages. I'm not saying that we should all be studying each others' body language but perhaps be attentive enough to realise the messages.
***
I've spoken to Mummy about coming back home and the first thing she asked was whether I wanted her curtains (cos our rooms have the same shape) as she was looking to change hers. We talked a bit about colours and patterns, obviously avoiding the topic of "why?" but I knew that she was just glad that I'm coming home.
Home... that's a word I've only used recently. If it's true that Home is where the Heart is, then my Heart is here, where it should have stayed a long time ago.