Walks in the Park

Today is the fourth day in a row that I take what I call 'convalescent walks' in the Punggol Park. Before last Friday, I have had no strength (physical, mental or both; though I suspect that lack of physical strength played a predominant role as an inhibiting factor) to venture out of the house, let alone take 2-3km walks in the park. I was thus very glad last friday when I woke up feeling reasonably refreshed instead of experiencing the heavy-bodied lethargy that greeted me every morning I woke up, since the Pox. I have managed to sustain a routine of taking morning walks and I wish I could maintain it in the days to come, at least before I am saddled with work from PLC coming July the 7th. Convalescent walks (actually I had borrowed this phase from the book by German author Schindler's book, "The Reader", a riveting read) are great for rebuilding bodily strength. When one's body is telling the brain that it has partially recovered but still needs recuperation, it is best to resume some measure of activity which is good for the body and soul but is not too physically demanding. Walks in the park is such a perfect activity. That aside, I think we are very fortunate to be living so near to a wonderful park.

For the past 3 days, I have been struck by the regularity of human activities and its relativity to how the world works. Believe it or not, I have met the same person (whom I shall call the Cat Lady because she has been going around the Punggol Park feeding the stray cats from the several plastic bags hung on the bar handles of her orange old-fashioned bicycle) at around the same time and at the same spot of the park. Even the cat that follows her and waits expectantly to be fed by her is visibly the same cat! It was mundane the first time I saw it because I've seen the lady do her rounds in the park before, amusing the second time I ran into her at the same spot and quite intriguing the third time round. Such is the predictability (or lack thereof in most instances?) of human life and routine. It nevetheless set me thinking: for how long could this continue? Will I be at the park at around the same time every morning? For how long will the lady do her rounds in the park in fulfilment of what I reckon is a sense of duty towards the stray cats? Then again, how does it matter that there is no degree of permanence in whatever that we do? A person who is at the same job for 30 years goes to work at the same place for every single working day of the 30 years and there will come for a time for him to retire from the daily drone. The trees, butterflies and cats that I saw today will be at the park tomorrow, but there will come a time when the trees will fall, the butterflies will drop gracefully from its flutter and the cats will stop their wandering in the park. There may eventually come a time when the the park is obliterated and replaced by an entirely different entity. Change is the only constant in life. So there is no need to bemoan the lack of constancy when change is the constant itself. Just that the constant is paradoxically not static- we just have to move with it and to a certain extent, let go of the obstinate clinging to the past.

Post-script: Ah mah from next door is using charcoal to boil some ingredients, one of which I am very sure is Pandan leaves from the smell of it, just outside the lift landing. Smells great. It is the third time I have seen Ah mah preparing the ingredients for making rice dumplings. At the same time that I envy them for having the luxury of tasting home-made dumplings and admire the spirit for carrying on a tradition that is quickly becoming a rarity amongst households here, I reminisce the time that our neighbour has spent with us. The first time that I saw Ah mah use the charcoal and clay pot stand to boil ingredients was barely a few months after they moved in. So my witnessing it for the third time means they have stayed next door for at least 2 years. As if to illustrate my musings above about the impermanence of living phenomenons, their impending move just proves the point that change is a part of life and has to be accepted. Otherwise one can never look forward and receive the future with equanimity.