Life Lesson #25: Vanity

There was a time where the word "vanity" didn't exist in my vocabulary. It was, to me, a taboo that I didn't want to approach or understand. In my young, cooped-up world, vanity was something that wasted time, money and effort - all of which could be spent doing other things that were far more "useful".

And so I became what others would define as a stereotypical nerd - head buried in books, difficulty in socializing with others, no care about appearance whatsoever. Of course, the last part isn't completely true. Though I could not bring myself to accept vanity, I still dressed properly, albeit simply. 

These were from my primary school days, or in other words, pre-teen years.

I'm living the sixth and possibly, last year of my teenage life. During those five and a half years, I've learnt a lot about what vanity means and stands for in actual life.

A lot of girls become vain in their teenage years. The levels of vanity differ from person to person - mild, moderate to excessive. We all know that things in excess (except perhaps vegetables and fruits) are bad; but a moderate amount of vanity is always good and needed.

Years ago, if I'd been asked to talk about the benefits of vanity, I would clam up, because to me vanity was and would always be a negative term. But I've come to realize that being vain comes with its advantages, as long as it isn't overdone.

When I look good, I feel good. Sounds cheesy, but hey, that's how appearances can boost confidence.

Nowadays, I care more about my skin, my hair, my looks and my style, though I'm still a nerd at heart. But who ever said that nerds can't look good and feel good too?

Being vain once in a while doesn't hurt; it helps you to realize that sometimes, you need to care for yourself too.

Being vain isn't everything; but being vain is something.

And to Bobak Ferdowsi, kudos to changing what the world thinks of us nerds!

The one, the only, Mohawk Guy!

 

A Tribute to Zach Sobiech

I admit, I am a total crybaby when it comes to movies.

I used to cry in cinemas during movie outings with friends, or when I was watching movies at home. After that I would chide myself for crying unnecessarily when others barely shed a tear. (I did not, however, cry during Les Miserables. But that was because I expected it to be extremely tragic.)

This, however, is one video that I am proud to have cried while watching.

What is the meaning to life? We never know or appreciate it until the time comes, when it's time for us to go.

But we never expect that time to come in our teens, the time when our dreams are just beginning to blossom into reality, when we just want to have fun and be crazy.

Zach Sobiech contracted cancer when he was 14. When most of us were enjoying our so-called "honeymoon years" in high school.

I cannot imagine the pain he must've felt then. That feeling of not knowing when your life is going to end, but that it will be soon.

His family calls him a "beautiful" person. That is a fact, not a praise.

He was a living example of how the strongest people are always those who hurt the most.

I say "was", because he is now in a better place, where he continues to watch over his friends and family. His life is a testimony to how an enriching life should be, and how one person's decision can inspire many others around the world.

Rest in Peace, Zach. I may not have had opportunity to know you when you were alive, but I'm glad that I now know your beautiful story.
Check out the below site for more details and to watch the heart-warming video of Zach, his family and his friends.
http://www.upworthy.com/this-kid-just-died-what-he-left-behind-is-wondtacular-rip?g=3

Life Lesson #24: Honesty

Many people claim to be honest with themselves, and to truly see the flaws contained in themselves. I used to be one of them.

I always thought that I'd faced myself honestly, that I had been looking into the mirror of my heart.

But it was a competition that showed me who I really was as a person, and that there was much to do on the road to honesty and bravery.

The only reason I ever cry after competitions is because I didn't perform well, or simply because I lost. This may sound very competitive and - perhaps, arrogant - of me, and yes, I fully admit to it and am willing to change that. But more of that later on.

Just last week, I participated in a public speaking competition. The Chinese part of the competition was impromptu, and thus we had to pick a title and prepare the script in a limited amount of time. As I received an angpau with my six optional titles in it (and not money, sadly), I singled one out and started writing.

This title I picked was 不做温室中的花朵. It meant not to become a flower inside a greenhouse. I wanted to perform well on this title, as I had under-performed in the previous Malay section. Halfway through my script, I added something in that would change my perspective of life forever.

I put in a part about how I always lived in the comfort of a greenhouse - victory. I believe I was so used to victory that I got to a point where I could not accept losses. This way of thinking did falter a bit when I lost in a competition that I had always won - but its roots were never completely destroyed. But by putting in this part of my history in my script, I was finally able to leave that part of me behind and move on.

When I was on stage presenting this part, I nearly pushed myself to the breaking point. Once I got off stage and returned to the safety of my seat, all the emotions bottled up in me were set free. One of the participants (who sat next to me) and the masters of ceremonies on stage were shocked at the sudden outburst. My fellow participant tried to calm me down (she thought I cried because I was disappointed in myself) but later on I explained that I was happy because that was the best script I had ever written in all of my 12 years of school life.

It was the best script because it was not one merely filled with facts, emotionless advice and general statements.

It was something I could relate to, something I could believe in, and something that convinced myself.

That was the first - and I believe, not the last - time I have been truly honest with myself. That was the first time I dared to look into the mirror of my heart and see the scars, the imperfections in it. 

Even as I am sitting here, writing about this right now, I feel glad that I am writing this while looking into my personal mirror.

We don't look into the mirror of our hearts not because it is futile or wasting time, but because we refuse the see the imperfections and negative sides of ourselves. 

So I guess you could say that we are all similar to Dorian Gray in this respect - by refusing to look at his portrait, he failed to see his sins. 

But it's not too late for any of us to look at the mirrors of our hearts.