Life is like a Merry-go-round

Is it? I wonder. If you can remember the merry-go-round in the travelling amusement park in the old days, there were decorative wooden horses with horsetails that went up and down, interspersed with seats that were stationary but they were all on the merry-go-round that went round and round to the accompaniment of music until the time was up and it stopped.

Children and adults enjoyed the merry-go-round. Parents stood by the horses on which their children rode, keeping a wary eye.

I liked riding on the horse. It was most exciting to be going up and down and round and round. Some less adventurous kids sat sedately on the seats, their eyes darting about nervously as the merry-go-round picked up speed.

Come to think of it, the merry-go-round is like life itself, with its ups and downs for most people but some are luckier than others and seem to sail through life on an even keel.

Just as we enjoyed riding on the wooden horses that went up and down, so too should we enjoy life with its ups and downs. If we look at the positives of the downside and learn from the experience, we will emerge the better for it. What we learn will propel us forward to the next level.

Some of us will soar like eagles while others may be like flotsam drifting with the tide.
What we turn out to be depends on how we handle the situations we find ourselves in and on our ability to spot and grab opportunities and to make the best out of them.

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You Are Not What You Think

When I was young, I never thought much beyond the here and now. Father had to be obeyed or else...Mother told us what to do....eat, study, sleep. Going to Grandma's was a treat for she always welcomed me with my favorite, pulut hitam topped with fresh santan ( black glutinous rice porridge with a tablespoon of thick fresh coconut milk ) and told me bedtime stories of ancient Chinese legends, including the one associated with my name, "Chang Er", the Lady in the Moon.

Lying down on her cool cement floor was a welcome respite from the harsh heat of the afternoon, deaf to her warnings about the dire consequences in my old age.

Huh! Old age was something inconceivable when you are a pubescent teenager.

Whatever my age as the wheels of time turned inexorably, the innermost sanctum of my mind stopped at sweet sixteen. Sweet sixteen was the sweetest period in my life, tasting the honey of first love amid the many beaux that came a-calling.

However, age has a way of creeping up on you. One day you are beautiful with a good head of lovely hair, expressive eyes, an indelible dimple that dances in and out when speaking or smiling but all too soon you suddenly realise the face in the mirror looking back at you is but a shadow of that quick silver sylph.

The head of hair has thinned considerably, the eyelids droopy, making the eyes so much smaller and the complexion a testimony to the ravages of time. Yet, I still feel sixteen. I don't behave like a sixteen year old, Heaven forbid!

I am not what I think, but I feel what I think. Feeling 16 gives me the energy, the joie de vivre, but the body betrays the mind. The engine is winding down, the knees protest with sharp stabs of pain as I descend the stairs. The milestone of seventy will be the new sweet sixteen, a little slower but the flame of sweet sixteen will still be undiminished.

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