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Life as Counterpoint

In music, counterpoint is the relationship between two or more musical lines (or voices) which are harmonically interdependent yet independent in rhythm and melodic contour. In brief, contrasting yet complementary. I’m starting to see life as counterpoint where different strands of life form an almost impossible fugal work of art.

If I could choose a piece of fugal music as inspiration, it would be Bach’s Prelude and Fugue No.2 Well Tempered Clavier, Book 1.

Work life takes up the most time of one’s 24 hours 7 days a week life, a sure-fire routine of starting up the computer and digital tools, the scrolling and clicking, the joining and leaving meetings, near-novel in-person meetings, the now clichéd Teams-Zoom meetings, the chatter around desks and kitchens, and of course, the actual work of doing-thinking-pausing in various reps and combos.

Work life, for all its transactional, practical and obligatory functions, might as well be the basso ostinato, a fixed bass line or chord progression that is continuously repeated while the melody and harmonies above it vary.

Or is it home life with similar ritualistic routines but with much heavier practical and obligatory functions that becomes the basso ostinato? Without paid work, home life would be untenable. And home life is the life that meets our most basic needs of food, shelter, safety and comfort.

Most of my working life has been as a ‘working mum’ (as opposed to a ‘non-working mum’ or ‘mum’ who are firmly positioned in the home), and as the primary income earner, have developed a no-nonsense almost survivalist mantra of ‘no work, no money, no food, no clothes, no house, so work’.

The work and home life balance is more like a see saw that keeps the momentum going for both lives to thrive. It now becomes evident to me that of course both work life and home life form the basso ostinato, stubbornly persistent and intertwined.

My community life is less about survival and more about serving and lifting others up. I spend this life with my church community – the women’s group, playing the piano, leading church services, praying for others. No doubt, the basso ostinato of work life and home life provides the ballast for me to be able to serve others. You can’t pour from an empty cup, but when you start pouring, your cup overflows.

For whoever has will be given more, and they will have an abundance.
Whoever does not have, even what they have will be taken from them.
Matthew 25:29

My creative life has only recently resurfaced like a Phoenix rising from the ashes of unfulfilled dreams of being a professional pianist, a composer, a published poet – the things that have been considered fanciful, unrealistic and hobbies at best in my down-to-earth middle class Asian upbringing and a pragmatic, competitive, discouraging Singaporean society. Perhaps it was going through adulthood, motherhood, and if I may coin the term, migrant-hood, in a place like New Zealand, that the creative life could be re-born. And just to be clear, in case you thought I was now a full-fledged musician and published author, I am not.

Instead, I have become increasingly comfortable in my own skin, whatever shade it’s purported to be, and feel free and encouraged to write, experiment, create, sing for those who willing to be the audience. Perhaps it is living in Wellington, the creative capital of New Zealand, that is the fertile soil for anyone who is willing to give it a go. Last year, I self-published a poetry book How To Be Different, How To Be Me. And in the past year or so, I’ve tried to make time to write poetry. Poetry is may start with a flash of inspiration that causes words to appear magically on paper, but it is the working through the word choices, sequence, rhythm that makes the scenes and emotions come alive.

This year, my creative life branched out into songwriting. Inspired by a worship leading workshop I attended at The Street Church in a few months ago, I rekindled my desire to write music and wrote two songs. I’ve sung one of them in church, and will sing the second one at the Christmas Eve service. I’ve been encouarged by my church community, and I share these songs with you.

The Offering is a song about what we offer to God as an act of worship, and what God has offered to us – his one and only Son Jesus.

Silent Night Is Calling is a Christmas themed song, inspired by one of my favourite songs, We Are the Reason by singer and songwriter David Meece. In Silent Night Is Calling, I used ‘silent night’ as a motif for the different settings Jesus is present in our lives.

Life’s journey this year (and every year) can feel like it’s been full of routines and activities, and that is why the do-things-for-myself life becomes important. Often overlooked or considered dispensable, this life points to the rests, long pauses and empty bars of my fugal composition. The do-things-for-myself life is unwinding with a book or something on the iPad screen, baking seeded crackers, lying flat on my back in quiet contemplation, walking on my own around the neighbourhood. They are wordless unambitious indulgences.

Time and intention has written this year’s fugual composition, or rather, a movement of a much longer piece of music.

Life is a 9 layered cake

Image by Lydia Bauman from Pixabay

The cake I have in mind is steamed, not baked; made with tapioca and rice flour; and is a sweet treat that is part of the rich food tapestry of Peranakan culture in Singapore and Malaysia (see also the thorough Wikipedia entry). This is my heritage and a culture I am proudly rooted in – although relatives would deride my low level of cultural authenticity!

So it is never quite enough to say I’m Singaporean, or a Chinese Singaporean, and certainly not just ‘‘Chinese’. I am Peranakan, or as a woman, a nonya. And this 9 layered cake is not just a part of my heritage, but my childhood, and also now a precious memory and taste of home while I live in a country that can hardly appreciate the nuances of the Chinese diaspora, let alone have any idea of this uniquely Southeast Asian sub-culture.

The 9 layered cake is really gao teng kueh in the Chinese dialect called ‘Hokkien’ or  jiu cheng gao (九层糕) in Mandarin. I grew up calling it the ‘rainbow kueh’ – the picture will tell you why.

Taken from mysingaporefood.com

My earliest memory of the rainbow kueh is of my father bringing it home on Saturday morning after his weekly shopping at the wet market, and picking up breakfast from the adjoining hawker centre. Saturday breakfast was a real treat as it took a break from the routine weekday sandwiches and cereal.

The Saturday breakfast options formed a delectable range from springy noodles with thin slices of barbequed pork (kolo mee), peanut pancake (ban jian kueh), rice noodle roll (chee cheong fun), soy bean curd (tau huay) and deep fried dough stick (you cha kueh), or mung bean soup (tau suan) and deep fried dough stick (you cha kueh), and of course, my favourite sweet treat, rainbow kueh. Apart from rainbow kueh, which was a term I coined putting the obvious word that came to mind and the type of food it was (kueh – Hokkien for ‘cake’ or ‘steamed cake’ to be precise), all the other food items I’ve listed here I’ve known them by their Hokkien names (the terms in brackets).

The rainbow kueh comes to mind today in celebration of life – the layers of varying density, the mixed flavours of coconut, pandan and tapioca, and the bright red symbolising happiness – usually the first (and thinnest) layer I peel off to enjoy what I imagine to be sweetest one of them all!.

The rainbow kueh comes to mind as I think of home and what life means to me after being through this year, the year of 9 layers, the layers of: 

Delighting in the now
Chucking out false hopes
Saying yes to opportunities
Loving unwindy sunny days
Pondering over past regrets
Keeping head barely above water
Finding no escape route for shame
Heaving sobs in silent darkness
Riding unfastened in roller coasters

And the sweetest one of them all – delighting in the now – means I am finding the present to be the only thing I have to make or break. At this moment, I am delighting in recollecting my memories, and making sense of who I was and who I am. I used to chant ‘Carpe Diem’ in my teens, after being inspired by Dead Poets Society, so why not again now, after peeling back the 9 layers of life?

Seize the day!
Yesterday is over
Something good is waiting
Wild weather keeps you humble
Disappointment has future lessons
Surviving comes before thriving
The way out of shame is forgiveness
Take time to grief and groan
Cling on tightly to the Immovable Rock

And so life, just like the 9 layered cake – the rainbow kueh – I peel layer by layer, tasting the different textures and flavours of different colours, some more pleasant than others, but savouring each layer and finally completing my quest to consume the rainbow kueh.

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