Always Bet On Yourself

I lost my dad to a brain tumour when I was 18. I remember being 17, visiting hospitals after school and fantasizing to become a nurse to serve the sick as I was so grateful for the wonderful nurses at the Prince of Wales Hospital in Sydney. I remember wishing I could get married to anyone, just so I can say my father was at my wedding. I wished I did better at school so he would be more proud. I wish I could have a baby somehow, so he would get to hold my child, his grand-child. So many crazy thoughts during those hazy days of his brain surgery, chemo and gradual decline. Funny now looking back, I never did wish for him to be cured. Back then my paradigm didn’t consist of miracles.

My father’s death was in many ways new beginnings for me. His death led me to question the nature of life and death, spirit, God and purpose. It was the beginning of growing up and facing the world. It was the beginning of self-enquiry and self-discovery.

Yesterday as I was watching Brothers and Sisters, the Walker kids shared a piece of advice which the dead patriarch of the Walker family had for his kids. The advice was “Always bet on yourself”. It felt like something my dad would say to us. I believe spirit speaks to us in so many ways, in songs lyrics, through a random comment on the radio, from a cab driver. When Y and I see butterflies, we feel him close. This feels like a message for me and C as we set out this year, to follow in dad’s entrepreneurial footsteps.

Pachamama Alliance's Awakening the Dreamer and Changing the Dream Symposium

I went to the Pachamama Alliance’s "Awakening the Dreamer and Changing the Dream" Symposium last night. It inspired and moved me deeply.

This is a grass root movement where by people in any community can be trained to lead the symposium so more people are able to experience and rethink about how they can make a difference for themselves, community and the planet. I’ll try to post a short video on the symposium as soon as I work out how! I am such a luddite!

As I re-awaken to so many of my passions in art, in poetry, in writing, in art, it is no surprise that environmental issues which I had long buried is re-surfacing in a new way in my life.

I am so excited I am going to be trained to lead/share this experience with the people of HK. I can’t wait to blog about it more after my training.

I have been getting my weekly stats report and I am amazed that there are people who are popping in to visit me!
Whoever you are, thank you for listening.

Life is Energy

I spent spend last week in Singapore attending T Harv Eker’s Train The Trainer program. When I did Millionaire Mind Intensive in March, I became a Quantum Leap member, effectively signing up for 5 courses in the Peak Potentials Curriculum. As you can see I love my personal development course.

One of the most powerful messages I got from attending the program was that everything in life is energy, be it money, training or life. Big energy begets big results. In a successful training, what is created is essentially a huge vortex of energy. And by managing, nurturing and sustaining this energy, everyone’s energy expands and so they grow.

About a decade ago I discovered a book that changed my life. It is call Paradigm Wars by Mark B Woodhouse who is a professor of philosophy. In his book he introduced me to the notion of Energy Monism which stipulates that all in life is of one essential essence. I later discover that that is the same fundamental premise of Quantum Physics. It was one of those things that fascinated me and eluded me. Harv was able to demonstrate how real energy was in a room full of people. He created high energy when he wanted to and brought it down when it was required. This was created in the context of training and it was incredibly powerful to be in the energetic ‘dance’ between trainer and audience.

Since I have been home, I became highly aware of energy. Being present to certain people’s ‘energy’ and also recognizing my own reaction to it. My dog Momo has this fragile, loving and pureness to her energy. My husband’s energy has grown since the training and his presence has become more open, steady and a new lightness is present. I feel I have expanded, fuller, more centered. I feel this is all part of the evolution of reclaiming my intuitive sense.

Ocean of love

I went for a swim with R at the Victoria park pool on Sat evening and remembered how beautiful it was to swim in the Adriatic sea. Swimming in Hvar and Dubrovnik blessed me with a breakthrough… I fell in love with the ocean unexpectedly. I already love the sea, the beach being Australian. As one is surprised to fall in love again with something one already loved, much like the surprising moments when I feel the full force and magnitude of love I have for R my husband.

I have always loved the ocean, but as a frolicker rather than a swimmer, I would only venture out far enough to splash myself, never into the waters where my toes loose contact with the sand bed. This all went away in Croatia. The lichen covered pebbled seabed was meters deep and friendly fishes distracted me with their dance. Sandwiched between the blue of the sky and the aquamarine of the ocean, I was a speck in God’s world, the fish and me, we were both really just as microscopic.

Soul Knitting (15 Feb 2002)

I have been a closet poet for quite a number of years and only a handful of friends have been privy to my poems.

There was a time when words strung themselves effortlessly in my head. Ditty capturing micro moments, when a smell, a leave, a scene that flashed by my bus window imprint themselves as words, they self-organise into poems, which I unravel on to the page one word at a time.

The older I got, the better I got at my day job, the less important I made writing. I convinced myself, writing didn’t matter, it was a youthful hobby. Whatever confidence I had about writing, I chipped away myself. I stopped writing and the deeper the gnawing grew.

S0…I have been hiding, under excuses of not being good enough, not being polished, not having a voice or anything worthy to say.
In fact when I started this blog, I didn’t really want people to read it.
The moment I registered my name in full as the blog url (seized by an almost mad moment of courage) I remember the mad panic setting in. I was naked and exposed. If I wrote from the heart, then there is no hiding.

To ‘save myself’ I found more excuses to not blog.
2 weeks ago, I told a whole other group of friends to hold me accountable to blog every other day. And most of them were so surprised I had a blog.
They asked me to send the link to them.
And I kept quiet, and changed the subject.

The next day I decided to stop the silly racket in my head. I took on sending out the link and for the first time consciously created for myself that it didn’t really matter what anyone thought. It didn’t matter what I thought. All that mattered was writing. And quietly, uneventfully since that moment I chose to just be with my own words, to not judge them.

In way, this re-new commitment to just be with words, stringing them together just for the pleasure of it, reminded me of this poem I wrote over 6 years ago.

Soul Knitting
Eva Ng
15.02.02

We are,
the knitters of our soul.

Taking bare strands of life
weaving patterns with the needles of our
hands, eyes, nose.
Shaping the looping vision with our ears, heart and mouth,
entwining the fibres of everyday,
with cheerful dexterity the one day,
and morbid dread another,
winding highs into lows, lows into highs.

We patterned this youthful section with an unskilled
vigour, knitting frenzied patches of wild woolly colours.

Dropped stitches, joyful gaps filled with exhilarating delight.
Crimson glories of foetal blood flagged life beginning.

Sorrow and tears, together stitched an abyss of grey, charcoal and muted darks,
deep pains inking the patch in shadow.

Tidy rows, the disciplined threads of adult life,
captured by neat lines in formal shades.

Years, days, hours,
click, tick, click tick the needle goes.
This great mat of colours, textures and fibres
Bold and unapologetic.
Stitch switches, switch stitches,
ultimate chaos, a true tapestry.

Masterful Living

I love this little poem which I scribbled in my daily planner from somewhere.
I aspire to live in this magical equilibrium.


I draw no distinction
between my work and my play, my mind and my body,
my education and my recreation

I simply pursue my vision of excellence
through whatever I am doing,
and leave others to determine
whether I am working or playing.

To myself, I am always doing both.

Heart to home

This morning I received an email from my youngest sister YY, recounting her move back home temporarily before she leaves for Europe to take up her scholarship for a Masters in Education. She shared a humorous exchange between her and my brother C who is the youngest in the family.

Later this morning, C emailed me to call him to sort out some paper work. And he shared that he has created ‘house rules’ for YY – which I found totally hilarious as their eldest sister.

Small anecdotes, moments of comic domesticity, so common to people living under the one roof.

Today, they came to me as extraordinary gems, an opening for me to be part of their life that is made difficult with me being in HK and them in Sydney.

In reading her short email, hearing his humorous complaint, the world shrank and I was transported home.