My Infinite Year

In just a few days, I will be turning the ripe age of twenty-three. As I've written before, I don't think this'll lead to some sort of instantaneous transformation or magical metamorphosis. But without a doubt, this past year has definitely been hugely significant to me. I think the twenty-third year of my time here on planet Earth has seen more growth as a person more than I could ever imagine. This doesn't necessarily mean improvement exclusively, but rather... change. And it was all due to one tiny flick of a switch in my head.

If I were to summarise all my experiences this year with one word, it would be "new".

From where I was sitting,
the candles show 2 and 3.

The new city I now live in.

The new places I've visited.

The new hobbies I've picked up.

The new healthy lifestyle pursuit.

The new career path I've taken.

The new friends I've made.

The new sense of love.

The new vision of faith.

The new goals I have for myself.

The new pet rabbits.


And the one thing that allowed me to have all these experiences was simply... choice. Ostensibly, nothing changed on the day I turned twenty-two. Nothing shifted in the equilibrium of the universe, and the stars did not align to shine favourably upon me. But this year, I did start to make more conscious decisions. And I realised how wonderful that simple power is.

That very basic thought of personal choice is unbelievably empowering, and it can be found in just the simplest decisions. It can truly be the most liberating feeling. And this year for me was pretty much dictated by such choices. I decided to quit aimlessly pursuing Law and changed careers to something I had a passion in and felt where my strengths could be put to best use. I decided to try to live healthier and be more comfortable about being in my own body (a continuing struggle). I decided to meet new people, even though every single time, it would make me a nervous wreck on the inside. I decided to open up more and try to be more honest, even if it left me feeling vulnerable. I also decided to write more.

Ultimately, I decided to say 'yes' more, even to the situations that I would normally shy away from. (Note: "more", not "always".) Why? Because life is pretty damn awesome, if you think about it. I mean, don't you agree? Just for a moment, think about the infinite possibilities of your life. Not life in general, but your life specifically. Do it.

Sure, you might not get to be an astronaut. You might not discover the cure to cancer. You might not marry Emma Watson. But you might make new friends if you went to that dinner or party with all those strange new people - friends you'll have for years to come. You might discover your new love for music even though you awkwardly have no clue how to act at a concert (seriously, someone tell me once and for all: what am I supposed to do with my hands?!). You might find the dream career you want, even though you'll have to start from scratch. You might fall in love. You might discover the person you truly want to become.

Some like to say life is like walking a path with forks in the road every now and then that command you to make a choice. But what if for every step you take in life, you could turn left or you could turn right? What if you could also choose to go straight ahead? Or backwards? Or even up? I also used to think life was like a path; now I think it's more like an open field.

This may be The Fault In Our Stars speaking, but you have infinite potential as a person because you have an infinite number of decisions you can make to determine who you are. Sure, you might just be this one person, and your life has its limitations; the same goes for everyone else. But within those boundaries lies your own set of infinite possibilities, different from anyone else's. And only you have the power to make those decisions.

I have hardly reached any of the goals I have set for myself, and I'm still bound by the responsibilities and constraints of my situation. I also understand that I have been incredibly blessed to have so much in my life, which has opened up many opportunities for me. But more importantly and more than ever, I feel in command of my life. Without a doubt, I have made some bad choices this past year - deplorable, regretful, horrid decisions. But I also made a few good ones. And that sense of reward is definitely worth the risk.

With my blog posts, I hope that I can intrigue a reader enough to plant a thought. I'm not looking to change lives with my writing, but for me, it's infinitely awesome that words I write might make someone think differently, even if just the tiniest bit. I can't imagine that anyone that finishes reading this will run out the door, quit his/her job, and dedicate his/her life to being the first person to ever breakdance on Mars. But I do hope that maybe this will persuade someone to own their decisions, good or bad. Be responsible for your own happiness and your own sadness - every decision you make is your decision. And if you feel like there are elements of life influencing that decision, it is because you allow it to. You regard it as important/relevant/necessary enough to impact your decisions, and that makes a lot of sense. But I hope that you can appreciate that it is still your decision. Because if it ends up well, it'll be infinitely more rewarding when you own it.

Despite the numerous pitfalls I stumbled upon this year, I'm pretty satisfied with my twenty-third year. It was far from perfect, and me even more so, but maybe that just leaves room for more awesome this coming year.

Here's to twenty-three.

A Love Letter To Plain Jane

Meet Plain Jane. 

She's pretty plain. 

Plain hair, plain eyes, plain face

- much the same. 

She has plain friends, and a plain job - all tame.

Leading the life of the exceedingly mundane.

I suppose there isn't much else to say about Plain Jane,

like picking out a droplet in a torrent of plain rain. 

-----

I overheard (read: not eavesdropped) on the Tube the other day a conversation between two guys, discussing their ventures of the previous night:

So are you gonna see her again?

I dunno. She's kinda plain. 

Although engrossed in my book (John Green's Looking for Alaska, if you were wondering), that word just stuck with me for a while - plain. What's so wrong about being plain?

I think too many people might be overlooking Plain Janes. I'm not judging those two gentlemen on the Tube in any way - to each his own, I say. I totally understand that everyone has their own preferences. But I've never understood why 'plain' every ought to be unappealing. In fact, I very much like plain.

I guess for me, plain connotes comfort. Comfort in the sense that there is a certain simplicity in beauty - a sort of quiet radiance. Homely, even (and even that word carries a negative physical connotation - why should something of the home be deemed unattractive?). Some girls scream hotness; some girls hum with prettiness. I guess I just always imagined myself with the latter (not that I don't really, really appreciate the former). You grab someone that's hot, but you hold someone plain. You hug someone hot, but you embrace someone plain. You make out with hot, but you kiss plain.

With Plain Janes, they look better dressed in baggy pyjama pants and your ill-fitting t-shirt than they do in a strapless, backless, midriff-less, and whatever-the-heck-is-left-less dress - not that they couldn't rock one, of course. They tie their hair up (because let's be honest: it's just more practical) over burning in curls, and they shuffle in bunny-shaped slippers rather than tiptoeing in 9-inch heels. They don't need make-up, because that stuff gets in the way when you peck them on the cheek ("Mmm... your blush tastes like chemicals. The good kind."), and they look better barefaced anyway; it's just easier to see more of them without the make-up hiding it all.

You don't have to take a Plain Jane fine dining every weekend, and have to pretend to enjoy delicately minuscule portions on humourously gigantic dishes, because she'll be willing to dig in with her hands the overcooked chicken wings you made whilst you watch stupid movies like The Hangover with your legs criss-crossed on the bed - AND she'll tell you it tastes good. But when you're not cosying up, Plain Janes also enjoy a little me time now and again, and you do your bit to protect that little sanctuary she so needs, as will she when you go "hang out with duh bros".

Plain Janes never tell you you're perfect just to stroke your ego, because she knows you're smart enough to know that's not true. Instead, she'll tell you straight up what you're not good at, because she'll follow up with how you can change that about yourself, and that she'll be besides you along the way. Plain Janes will never tell you you're invincible - but they will certainly make you feel so.

And the best thing about Plain Janes is when things are at their worst. When you fight, Plain Janes never scream, or throw things at you, or furiously and dramatically storm out the front door. They fight because they care. And when the fury dies down, you know you can sit down with Plain Jane at the edge of your bed and talk things out. You can apologise to a Plain Jane, because Plain Janes forgive and never hold grudges. And then you learn to treat Plain Jane better because you don't have to decipher some cryptically hidden message behind her "I'm fine. Really.".

I get that the impression I might be giving is that I only like Plain Janes. But my message is quite the contrary. It's really that we (me included) should be open to all Janes: Plain Janes, Hot Janes, Nerdy Janes, Cute Janes, Smart Janes, Quiet Janes... and all the Janes in between. Some Janes are even both Plain and Hot! Everyone has their own Jane. But I think the Plain Janes mostly get overlooked - and I'm here to say I, for one, like Plain Janes.

Because, after all, I'm pretty Plain James.

-----

But one fine day, along came Plain James,

Who saw Plain Jane - but not quite the same. 

As he tried to conjure something poetic and witty,

All he could think was how she's just plain pretty.

Her hair, piano black,

with a scent on your pillow stays.

Her eyes, deep hazel,

translates her heart with its gaze.

And a face unforgettable, 

not even willpower could erase. 

Her friends are her family, that she fights unconditionally for.

Her job is her passion; a pursuit not a chore. 

She was waiting for someone with better vocabulary

(or at least someone who writes poems that are a little less ordinary).

But to Plain James, none stood out more than Plain Jane,

like picking out constellations from a sky of plain planes.

If you're wondering who wrote the abysmal Hallmark doggerel that sandwiches this post: yes, it was me. I am not a poet, nor do I intend to be. The entire thing wouldn't fit on a public restroom wall.