From a young age, I've been known in various circles as someone who's happy and bubbly, but perhaps someone who isn't very serious, lacking in maturity or responsibility.

This perception has followed me from high school to my mission, and on to college and the workplace. It's frustrating to me that it's been an issue, though I constantly try to improve. It's feedback I've received from a couple of managers. I've always been chatty, but, to paraphrase what a colleague said to me at dinner the other night, "Sometimes you say stupid shit." It's not exactly what anyone wants to hear, but nevertheless, a point well taken.

While we are blessed with distinct personalities and ought to be ourselves, finding the balance between what talents to optimize and what talents to temper is a tricky business.

On my mission, I had a companion, Elder Palfreyman, who was able to strike that balance. Quiet confidence, or quiet dignity, is one of the bigger lessons I took away from our companionship. In an email he wrote me reflecting on the topic, he said:

"The gist of the matter is that there is a great power in speech, but it is only made powerful by the moments that go unspoken. As important as words are, they can be over-used to the point of making them completely useless.... more often than not, a decorum reflecting quiet dignity is much more desirable for professional settings or even in cultivating higher respect from one's peers."

It's a characteristic I'm working on developing, and trying to be more cognizant of my words and actions.

When they come of age and as they so desire, Mormons receive what is known as a Patriarchal Blessing. In it, a man called especially to this role acts as a conduit of God to give you a blessing that tells you about your life ahead, and provides you words of counsel to help you along the journey in this mortal sphere.

While I don't subscribe to various tenants of the Mormon faith anymore, this is one thing I've clung on too. A friend who's also left the Church made a good point - that any religion has good people who can truly act as messengers of God to us. In the blessing, the Patriarch said:

"Watch what you say, what you think and what you do for you will be judged by these things and your judgment will not only be from the Lord but from those around you. Remember that whatever you do, whatever you say, how you think and what your attitude is will be reflected and obvious to those around you. So be aware of this and do the right things."

I received this blessing when I was 16. More than a decade on, it still rings true. I'm honestly not sure why that's the case - why is what I think and my attitude so obvious to those around me? Is it that obvious or crazy or somehow incongruous with who I'm supposed to be? And, from my perspective - why did God tell me that, what does He want me to learn from this? I guess the only way to find out is by working to change and improve on it.
In that sense, I'm an advocate of letting (and helping) people change, of giving them the benefit of the doubt that they can be a better version of themselves. We come from different backgrounds and experiences, with strengths and fallibilities and some are I guess, more obvious than others. I'm working to be more conscious of how I act and what I say. I hope I can change the perception people have of me as a bubbly goof-off to a bubbly mature person, and I'd love your help along the way.

I visited Sam Palfreyman, my old mission companion in Boston back in 2013. He's always been a font of wisdom and an example of a genuinely good and kind person. During my visit, our conversation drifted towards self-improvement and development, and we talked somewhat about something we had actually discussed on the mission - quiet dignity and confidence. I asked Sam to email me some thoughts on it, and this is what he sent over, June 25, 2013.

"So as my memory serves me (correctly or incorrectly I know not for sure), I believe I received a lesson on "Quiet Dignity" in one of my first District Meetings in Kuala Lumpur (my first area on my mission). Unfortunately, I do not have the notes with me, but I will attempt to recall some of my thoughts here as well as some observations. I hope this doesn't sound too preachy (this is not to say all of my thoughts apply to you or any one person, but rather the ideas are put in general terms to express a quality of decorum that I respect in others. I am very guilty of light-mindedness and flippant speech, so this was a good exercise for me to reflect upon). 

The gist of the matter is that there is a great power in speech, but it is only made powerful by the moments that go unspoken. As important as words are, they can be over-used to the point of making them completely useless. On the extreme side of things, people can develop a habit of swearing incessantly. This habit demonstrates a difficulty in expressing ones thoughts. Trite expressions and vulgar sayings are frowned upon by in large most audiences.

More often and more subtle, however, are the people who have a sense of propriety and a respect for elevated speech, but due to nervousness and anxiety they speak quickly before they can even process what has just been said by others. This habit is not fatal, and in fact, it often is quite acceptable in many social settings. But more often than not, a decorum reflecting quiet dignity is much more desirable for professional settings or even in cultivating higher respect from one's peers.

An interesting example comes from music. I am not a musician and thus I do not understand composition to any professional degree. But conceptually, I have heard from those who are that the only thing more important than composing the notes is inserting the rest notes. That is to say, there is a great deal of dramatic effect and framing that goes into choosing when to remain silent and when to make noise. This serves well to illustrate the point of quiet dignity. The person who knows when to speak is clever, but the person who knows when not to speak is all the more clever. Surely you can error on the side of being too silent (a song would be awful dull with no notes), but assuming we all use words to communicate, the conservation and intentional use of speech is quite remarkable.

Think of someone you admire who exhibits quiet dignity (perhaps a Church leader, a family member, or the Savior Himself). That person tends to carry himself  in a unique way. Rather than constantly talking he (or she) reserves the moments for conversation for when it is necessary; when there truly is something worth saying. Words are guarded as pearls of great price, not to be cast about without great care and forethought. There is a great confidence and power to this person's words. Rather than being conditioned to put on a smile and prepare to laugh at his cleverness, you open your ears to his words; you listen for the content that has been chosen, guarded, prepared. This quiet confidence is closely related to humility: a divine attribute worth striving for. Humility is not a weakness but a strength. To be possessed of it is not to be self-effacing but rather to put your trust in another and to patiently seek to do as He would do, and say what he would say."

In rare times of peace and quiet, I sometimes reflect on my days in college. Back then, multiple people I encountered who were already working kept telling me college was the best time of my life, and I should appreciate it. I didn’t understand what they meant till now.

It’s especially during this season where I long more for the days gone by. I remember many a winter’s day, where I would trudge home in the snow to my apartment, take off the layers, then curl up on the couch with a cup of tea. More often than not, one of my roommates would also be there, Zane would be taking a nap or watching a rerun of Seinfeld. Blake would be perched on the edge of the couch reading a book, or hanging out in his bedroom.

We would always argue about whether to put the Christmas tree up after Halloween or after Thanksgiving, and we would always compromise – put the tree up between Halloween and Thanksgiving, but instead of a start, a baseball on top. Zane’s the biggest baseball fan, and that was our little ode to his devotion to the game. Christmas music was off limits till after Thanksgiving.

Our neighbors were also our best friends, and they’d walk in here and there. We'd borrow each other's salt or rice, we'd play board games or make dumplings into the night. Hot chocolate was always an easy way to convince the group to pile into a car to the hot chocolate shop and chat for hours on end. Often, we'd try to see if we could various female friends to come along. 

In the summer, we would stoop on the steps in the evenings. It was scorching hot in the summer, but evenings would bring beautiful sunsets and a gentle breeze. The quadrangle was a lively place, people would be chatting or trying to grill something on a portable BBQ. The chatter was always there, but not too loud, like birds chirping - people laughing and talking to each other happily. Wild nights meant hammocks tied to the porch posts, with people playing Four Square, or Just Dance with 30 people following the screen at the same time.

I love my job now, it's fulfilling, and I learn much each day. I get the opportunity and autonomy to grow a business, and work with some fantastic colleagues. It's not healthy or helpful to dwell on days gone by.

But, there are days when, just slightly, I wish I could go back to the simplicity of those days where friends were family, where the only thing I had to worry about was completing that homework assignment or taking that test.

That's the beauty of life though, we move on. We learn and change and love and grow. Sometimes, we make mistakes and fail and struggle to get back up. I miss college, but I'm ever grateful for the path I'm on, and hope that in whatever small way I can, I'll move forward and do my best to make this world a better place.

When I wrote my last post, I was in a very different place. a different job, a different country, a different state of mind. 

Moving back to Singapore is one of the better decisions I've made in my life thus far. Some of the challenges I faced living in Utah are gone, some of them remain, while new ones have cropped up. 

I've learned things about myself, about what I am capable of, what I'm not able to do. I've made choices that have caused grief to people I love, but also to me. I've been happy and I've been sad. I've been lonely and I've been fulfilled. 

Life happens.

With that in mind, here's why I'm starting back blogging and writing.

This year, I turn 29. Next year is the big 3-0.

A couple weeks ago, a friend from work asked me if I had thought about turning 30 (she's just a month behind me), then asked if I wanted to do a 30 things to do before you're 30 list with her. 

It's something I've seen people do, and I thought it would be really cool! I mean - I have my life bucket lists - why not knock out a number of them in the next year and a half?

One of the things to do, of course, is to track it, so why not record it? While I've been busy this past year, one of the other reasons why I stopped writing is because I've had writer's block. The words don't flow so easily. I'm trying to stimulate that part of my brain again and get back to that emotion and core of who I was and who I am. 

Being able to articulate it on pen and paper (or a keyboard), I believe, will help me redirect my compass where I want it to go, and help me stay the course. 

I'll be sharing the vast majority here, along with my journey. I hope that through this, I become a better person, in others eyes, but more importantly, in my heart. Through humililty, grace, and a bit of fun, I'm excited for this! 

The very first goal on the list is one that will be ongoing, and that's to write a blog post at least once a week so I can get back into the writing groove. 

Here's to doing 30 great things before turning 30!

On a drive to pick a date up yesterday, I was talking to my mom and mentioned where I was headed.

Her response to that was, "Does she know you're inactive?"

What she was asking was whether I told the girl I wasn't active in the Mormon church. I told her that I'm pretty upfront with my dates about that - if they're Mormon. Then we continued on chatting about other things.

Later that night, as I was lying in bed, I replayed that conversation in my head, that got me thinking. Why should that really matter? I know, I've grown up and been Mormon most of my life, and, to Mom's point, the vast majority of Mormon girls want to date a church-going, temple worthy, returned missionary. I mean, with that comes all the values and attributes they could want in a man. 

But, and this is the big but for me, does the church make the man, or does the man make the church?What I mean by that is - does being an active participant at church define who I am as a person? I struggle with that because I still profess to be a Christian and strive to be the best disciple of Christ that I can be, but I happen not to subscribe to certain tenants and interpretations of the Mormon church. 

As a person, I still strive to be honest and kind, faithful and humble. I hope and think that I'm a good person who still tries to make good choices. But, it seems that my worth, at least to certain others, is derived from my activity in the church, rather than my personality, my likes and dislikes, my humor and hobbies. Church can be a part of my if I choose, and in that sense becomes a part of who I am. Though, at the end of the day, I am who I am because of the choices that I make. But - that choice of not being active in the church doesn't fundamentally change who am I am, but rather, my perspective on things. 

But, why did my Mom have to ask me that question? I think that to be an unnecessary question, because it doesn't change the way I treat my date, if I am a shallow man, that is who I am, if I am more than that, my inactivity doesn't change the way I treat or view women. 

Dating in Utah can be quite the challenge. As someone explained on a Facebook group I'm part of, my band of people are"too heathen to be Mormon, and too be Mormon to be heathen." We find it hard for people on both sides of the spectrum to relate (though the non-Mormons are a bit more open). Outside of Utah, it seems that non-Mormons just don't care, and can even be a fascinating subject for discussion, while the Mormons are more open to your spectrum of religiosity. 

And so it goes, it's an interesting journey, and one that I'll navigate as best as I can.

I was trying to write a long, moving tribute in remembrance of Lee Kuan Yew, but I've got a feeling that if he read something like that, he'd criticize it and not being wishy washy. While he was eloquent, I believe brevity was also one of his strengths.

So, Mr. Lee, thank you for building our nation from a mud-flat swamp to the social and economic powerhouse it is today. Thank you for not caving in to your critics and dissenters who deemed you a "dictator." No so called dictator has ever turned a third world country into a first world nation in 30 years. Thank you for "fostering a nanny state."

"Between being loved and being feared, I have always believed Machiavelli was right. If nobody is afraid of me, I’m meaningless."

Thank you for trying to inculcate in Singaporeans a sense of ethics, of hard work and loyalty. Over the past few years, it has been saddening to read posts when people, especially the younger generation, disparage you and your Old Guard for what you did when building Singapore. They cannot comprehend or even understand what your generation went through and the environment and context in which you crafted your policies and made your decisions. They didn't see the "dark ages" during the Japanese occupation, or the ineffectiveness of the British in keeping Singapore safe. Hopefully they'll realize that one day, and be grateful for you. They don't know that without you, Singapore would be nothing.

Everybody knows that in my bag I have a hatchet, and a very sharp one. You take me on, I take my hatchet, we meet in the cul-de-sac.

Thank you for teaching us about fidelity and love, and being an example both in your public and personal life, to fight for what you love.

Without her, I would be a different man, with a different life... I should find solace in her 89 years of a life well lived."

Thank you for fighting for Singapore every step of the way, in believing in us when everyone thought we would fail. There were so many that thought Singapore would fall to the wayside. Everytime I visit home, I marvel at how much it has changed and grown, and it's all because you taught us that we can't be sedentary, that we have to constantly work to make Singapore better.

"Whoever governs Singapore must have that iron in him, or give it up! This is not a game of cards! This is your life and mine! I spent a whole life-time building this, and as long as I am in charge, nobody is going to knock it down."

I am a grateful Singaporean son. No man is perfect, but you built a country that is pretty darn close to perfect. Thank you for giving your life to Singapore.

"I have spent my life, so much of it, building up this country. There's nothing more that I need to do. At the end of the day, what have I got? A successful Singapore. What have I given up?My life."

Majulah Singapura.

I'm typing this with four fingers right now.

I can't use my right hand, and my left thumb is out of service at the moment. While I was washing dishes earlier tonight, the knife I was washing slipped out of my right hand and sliced my left thumb, my good thumb.

So frustrating.

People were coming over and I was trying to clean up the mess, the trash, the clothes at my place. Of all times, of all things, MY THUMB.

The stupid thing wouldn't stop bleeding after 15 minutes, so I had to sit down for a bit and just press down on it and eventually had a friend help bandage it properly (thanks Laura!)

 Then this thought came to me, "My thumb is really important, there are so many things I can't do if I don't have my thumb."

There are so many things that I complain about every day, and that I am not grateful for. But, at least for today, and perhaps every day from now on, I should find something to be grateful for. I've always thought it pretty random and somewhat annoying when people post on Facebook or Instagram what they're grateful for, but I think I'm starting to get the point. For me, it'll probably be something more personal, but I appreciate the principle.

Anyhow, I could list off the things I'm grateful for, like my friends/family/job/roof over my head/ good health. All those cliched stuff.

But, what I'm truly grateful for today is my somewhat injured, but still functioning, THUMB.

Happy Thanksgiving!

Thumb - what an interesting word. Thumb.

When I first met you, I thought, "Huh, she's really cute, I should go talk to her."

So, I did. And boy, you were funny, you made me laugh, and the conversation we had flowed so comfortably and easily. We got to talk a few times over the next few weeks and I so enjoyed talking to you. When you smile and laugh, you wrinkle your nose, it scrunches up because you're full of delight. It made me happy, that you were happy. Eventually, I took that chance and asked you if you wanted to go on a hike sometime and you said yes.

I was so excited, I told my roommates that I thought this could really go somewhere. I mean, I was cynical enough about dating. But, I saw my friends dating girls who they thought were way out of their league, but gave it a shot and it worked. so I thought, hey, this might work.

I had hope, because even though so many times before I had dated and failed, there was always a glimmer, there always had to be a glimmer.

We went on the hike. It was so fun, because we had so much in common. I thought you looked so beautiful when the sunlight glanced off the trees right into you, where you were standing. It was so fun, you told me these little details about your life that you thought were inconsequential, but I thought it was so interesting, because I got to know you just a little bit better.

As we walked along the path and talked, you told me that you didn't think you were that great, that you were just average and normal, that you had challenges and fears and all that. All I could think then was why, why would you ever think that? You make me happy, and that's selfish. But, don't you realize that by existing you're making life that much better for one person? You should never think that about yourself, because you are amazing.

I wanted then more than ever to protect you and love you and care for you.

You're so intelligent and beautiful and kind and funny. How can you not know how amazing you are?

So I thought to myself, I will do my best to help her understand that, so I told you that, that I thought you were smart and beautiful and more. I couldn't tell what your thoughts to that were, but I thought that maybe I saw the hint of a smile. If I could give back just a little bit of happiness, it's worth everything.

We spent more time together the next couple of weeks, then when I asked you out on another date, you told me you couldn't date me because you were going out with someone else. What? How could that happen?

But, I wanted you to be happy, so if you really liked the other man, then I was happy for you, thought it broke my heart to pieces. A few weeks later, I saw you, and you didn't seem happy, but you were still dating the other guy. I didn't know why. I wanted so badly to tell you that I was there for you, that I could be everything and more. But, I couldn't because I respected your choice.

Finally - you broke up with him, and you called me. I was so relieved, you sounded more cheerful, more like the old you. You wanted to meet up, and I gladly did. But then, you started talking about him, how he had treated you, and it hurt me. But, you wanted to know what to do, because you still cared for him. Inside, I was hurting inside so badly, because I realized then that I loved you, and would do anything to make you happy.

So, I gave you the advice that I thought would help, and you gave me a hug and left. I couldn't sleep that night. I thought about everything I could say about how I felt for you. But, I realized you would never understand. You could not understand, because you would never see me the way I see you. You never got back with that other guy, or maybe you did and were happy. I don't know.

 I was happy you were happy.

But, whenever we talked after that, it was always about advice about another guy, or another struggle in your life. One day, you even asked me about my roommate, and whether he'd be interested in you. My roommate took you out eventually, but then he wasn't interested, and I couldn't understand why. The lucky bastard. It was then that I realized that I could not be around you anymore. It hurt too much. So, I started to stay away. And thankfully, you didn't seem to care too much. Maybe that hurt more.

The other day, I saw your post on Facebook about some hard things you're dealing with right now, and my heart melted all over again. I wanted to do what I could to help you, so I sent you a short encouraging message on Facebook, and, against my better judgement, dropped some cookies I had made off at your place. I doorbell ditched it.

You called me later - happy. You said you were sorry you had missed the bell, and it sounded like you wanted to talk, but I didn't know what to say.

Because I couldn't.

If I did, all my feelings for you would come out again, my heart on a sleeve, and get trampled on all over again. You said maybe you would see my soon, and I said yes, but with a little hesitation in my voice, not because I didn't want to. I want to. I responded politely to a couple things you said. I couldn't talk to you anymore.

I said goodbye.

*This isn't about one girl, it's representative of a few girls I have gone out with over the past few years.
**Forgive the lack of proper quotation and punctuation marks, I just typed out what I thought.
*** My Asian relatives tell me not to post personal thoughts and feelings like this, that's why girls don't date me. But what do they or I know?

You can't depend on prayer - at least not in the way most people seem to understand it. I think people get confused by how prayer really works.

I was visiting an old mission companion in Boston last week, and along the course of the weekend got talking a bit about religion.

One of the things that I have been thinking a lot about is the concept of prayer and how it really works with His will. In Christianity, we say things like"Thy will be done," and "we'll leave it up to God," "it's all about faith."Well, if it is His will, then what's the point of prayer? It seems that a lot of people pray or even fast when they want something, whether it's to do well on a test, get the girl of their dreams, or, on a more serious note, to spare the life of a loved one who's been in an accident, or who is at the beginning or tail end in a battle with cancer.

At that point, some people are begging, pleading - even crying - to ask God to spare the life of that friend or family member, while at the same time acknowledging that it is His will. But, if I understand it correctly, it is His Will right? God is omniscient, and knows exactly what's going to happen, it's all planned out. Granted, God can try and help influence us through the Holy Ghost to help us make the right choices and return to Him, but that's a point for another post, because I'm talking about how people see prayer as a way to somehow influence God.

When we pray (at least when I pray), we ask God for a lot of things. "Please bless my mother that she will be well this week, please bless my roommate that he will do well on a test." But, how does that work? If enough people pray for something, will God really bless them?

Scenario 1: Jane has stage four cancer, and she's going to die in a few days. Jane is Christian from Atlanta, and her pastor announces to the congregation that they are going to pray and fast for a week that Jane will be healed.

Scenario 2: Jennifer in Ghana has stage four cancer, and she's going to die in a few days. Jennifer believes in the local spirits. The local witch doctor announces to the village they are going to pray for Jennifer, and he's even going to throw in a few potions.

Scenario 3: Jack in London has stage four cancer, and he's going to die in a few days. Jack's an atheist, as is his family. So they make plans for his funeral.

So, assuming God is the Christian one, who's He going to save? The Christian one? But, God loves all His children. He isn't going to pick favorites. Heck, Jennifer hasn't even heard the name Jesus Christ in her life.

Say Jane dies. What do all her friends and pastor say? "Well, it was the Lord's will," "Oh, she fought the good fight." Now say Jane lives. What do all her friends and pastor say? "Praise God, He has heard our prayers." "It was the faith of Jane and her friends that saved her," the pastor exclaims.

Meanwhile, you've got the believer in spirits and the atheist. So, now what? If they live, it can't be God's will, they have been praying to the wrong person. If they die, well, wrong God again. Sounds like a discriminatory and not at all loving God to me.

How can that be? Here's my two cents in response to that.

1. God really does love all His children, and,

2. Prayer isn't about asking God to do something for you, it's about accepting His will.

God loves all his children, and is not going to discriminate. Just as God does not condemn someone to hell because they did not believe or know about Him in this life, so will God not condemn one person before another just because that person has 100 people praying for them as opposed to that soul in Atlanta or Ghana. Whether Jane, Jennifer or Jack die is not because of the prayers or lack of prayers on their behalf. It is the will of God. Prayer is meant to be a comfort, not a solution. Prayer is meant to teach us on whom our dependence must lie. God will not suffer His children any differently from another. When a Jew, Muslim or Hindu prays, they are all to the same God, just a different way of praying. Remembering that will help us in so many ways. We'll be kinder to others, we won't judge others as much, we will love one another more because we will begin to understand more of how God truly loves.

Here's the chunk of my thoughts though:

Prayer isn't about asking God to do something for you, it's about accepting His will. I had a friend who just wrote about having a really hard time finding a job, and the fear that comes from not knowing what is going to happen. Later on, though, she quotes Elder Jeffrey R. Holland, an apostle in the LDS faith who said:

"Whenever these moments of our extremity come, we must not succumb to the fear that God has abandoned us or that He does not hear our prayers. He does hear us. He does see us. He does love us. When we are in dire circumstances and want to cry “Where art Thou?” it is imperative that we remember He is right there with us—where He has always been! We must continue to believe, continue to have faith, continue to pray and plead with heaven, even if we feel for a time our prayers are not heard and that God has somehow gone away. He is there. Our prayers are heard."

I agree, I really really do. God does hear our prayers, and he there to comfort us, guide us, lead us, teach us. But, he does not, I think, answer our prayers in the way most people think. We don't pray and God says, "Sure, you've prayed hard enough, so here you go." The reason why people shouldn't say God has answered my prayer is because He hasn't and does not.

Rather, and this is the crux of the conversation I had with my mission companion - God, in answering our prayer, explains to us, through the Spirit or in other ways, why something has happened the way it has. It's an explanation, not a response where God does something for us. We do not understand His ways. But prayer gives us the confidence and assurance that He knows what He is doing. We cannot change the will of God, but prayer can change the desires of our heart to align ourselves with the will of God. It is then that we learn to trust in God, and depend on Him. Prayer is not meant to supplicate, it is meant to redeem. When you learn that prayer is about understanding, not about demanding, the answers you receive from God will change, because you will have changed.

My Bishop from my home ward wrote this back in 2007, a few weeks before my Dad forced me to come home fro my mission. Before I share the quote with you, what I learned from that experience is that God truly allows men to use their free agency, it is how we act on our own against the things life throws our way that will make all the difference.

"Be faithful. We all have challenges and fears, obstacles and obligations. Sometimes they overwhelm us. There is nothing wrong with doing what we can and then committing ourselves into the hands of God. He expects nothing more of us than what we can do and He will step and carry us when it is necessary. He can and will save us from the fires of the adversary, and even if He does not, it will be well with us for believing it will be so. He sees beyond the moment, beyond the veil, into the eternities. Who knows that but an apparent tragedy may open the door for the heavens to bless us or to receive us? He does. Believe."

We are dependent on prayer not because we will get the answers we want, or even answers at all. We can and must be dependent on prayer, because that is the way we will learn how to be truly dependent on Him.