I hope, but I don’t think so?


Hope gets me up in the morning. The forecast may be rain and the sky looks gloomy, yet I move on with the day, with a sense that it’s okay and it’ll be alright. ‘It’ encompasses much – relationships with loved ones and friends, personal and professional lives, the present and the future.

Hope keeps me going forward into an uncertain future, for none truly knows what that will hold except it will be different from the vision we have in our minds. Yet it is this vision that speaks of the intangible essence of hope. I still have an idea of what tomorrow will bring. That there is a tomorrow and it will be sunny in one form or another.

Hope is usually unspoken and often taken for granted. It is not measurable – though many of us would have heard of the ‘hope’ of making it big, being successful, being famous, of scaling Mt Everest… well, they are more aspirations than hope.

Hope is way more powerful than the mere attainment of goals.

Hope springs from our heart, the feeling of right-ness in the world in spite of its incomprehensible and reprehensible minutiae. It is the glimmer of light behind every cloud. Though we can’t see it now, we know it’s there. It is what underlies the belief that we can always start over, that we have the capacity to begin afresh. That at worse, no matter what happens, we will survive.

Then there are times when our minds, the greatest trickster, say “nah, I don’t think so”. We think it is impossible, too hard and unlikely to happen, too good to be true, too easy to be real…

Our rational minds, with memories of yesteryears collated and constructed into stories we can accept so our hearts, our psyche can no longer be threatened or broken. We make do. We settle. We lose hope and for some, hope is lost entirely. When our thoughts subsumed our hope and we no longer believe that it’ll be alright, then there is no point getting up in the morning. The dark clouds look like menacing monsters approaching; they feel like a persisting unbearable weight. There can be no glimmer of light behind that. This is the best it will ever get, and it ain’t pretty.

In as much as hope is a feeling from the heart, a deep sense of our belonging to this evolving world, it is also a practice of not letting the mind take over, of not allowing our minds default to the ugliness (as I call it) of life.

Increasingly, we are exposed to the underbelly of our world; the media’s choice of news based on fear and negativity, and sensationalised. In this climate, it is no wonder we are more likely to say “nah, I don’t think so” than “it’ll be alright”.

So, the choice is ours – to re-negotiate what we expose ourselves to and to redress the imbalance. The choice to read of wars and deaths and to practice gratitude, to decry and stand up against injustices and to show empathy and compassion, to expand our intellect and to reach into our hearts, to see each of our experience now in the long continuum of human existence, insignificant yet impactful.

What choice will you make? Does your voice contribute to the maintenance of hope?


Hope is like a road in the country; there was never a road, but when many people walk on it, the road comes into existence.      ~ Lin Yutang


~ FlorenceT


© 2017 FlorenceT Copyright reserved. The author asserts her moral and legal rights over this work.


Angels in your life


I often wonder how I got here… an island girl from South-East Asia.  And I don’t always see what has brought me here.  And I commonly forget to count my blessings, to appreciate the gifts and grace that were my companions through it all.

Yes, I can pat myself on the back, and congratulate myself for my courage, my strength, my tenacity, my fine instincts, my foresight, my intelligent sensible mind, etc. but I’d like to believe I have angels in my life.

Let me clarify what I mean by ‘angels’.

My felt-sense of angel is this: it is unconditional acceptance, unwavering attention, attending beauty, a space in which I can fly and know I will land within its safe reach.  It is safety, comfort and love!

I have many angels throughout my life, one of which is books, the other music.  They have been my refuge, they have been that place which I seek my solace.  They have lifted me, enlightened me, given me great joy!

There have been people who, in their own ways and sometimes unbeknown to even them (and I at the time), supported me, compelled me to realize who I truly am.

What or who are your angels?  Where do you go, my lovely, when you need comfort and love?

So here I share a piece of music that has touched me in many ways, its meaning changing at times.



May you find comfort in the arms of your angel!

– FlorenceT


© 2015 Copyright reserved. The author asserts her moral and legal rights over this work.

A bit of (dark) positivity…?


A positive post as part of #BeWOW @RonovanWrites love the idea, what inspiration!

When I heard this song, I thought, hey why not?!  So here’s a fun tune to share… and a message as well.



A bit of the lyrics, specifically the Chorus:

My problem, I never was a model,
I never was a scholar,
But you were always popular,
You were singing all the songs I don’t know
Now you’re in the front row
‘Cause my song is popular

Popular, I know about popular
It’s not about who you are or your fancy car
You’re only ever who you were
Popular, I know about popular
And all that you have to do is be true to you
That’s all you ever need to know

So catch up ’cause you got an awful long way to go


Oookay, there is a bit of edge to the song, a bit of ‘dark’ but that’s what I like … letting our shadow side out to play – quite harmless enjoying the song, fantasying about sweet revenge (watch the video if you have not) or just …

Then when the song is done, I go back to being the nice person that I am 😛

Enjoy, people!

– FlorenceT


© 2015 Copyright reserved. The author asserts her moral and legal rights over this work.

Soul and spirit of living


He calmly replied, “Being human is hard enough.” He was 6, and it was a response to my (I’m now embarrassed to admit) innocuous question, “what do you want to be when you grow up?” More so, I was ashamed of not seeing the truly beautiful human being that he is and the innate wisdom not borne of institutionalised education nor life experience.

It was the voice of his soul. Our ensuing conversation was no less profound and demonstrated, at least to me, his intimate sense of human existence and a pre-cognition of what life could entail. It is our soul’s knowing. And as Heraclitus said, “the soul is its own source of unfolding.”

What reminded me of him today was her –the vivacious young being of 9 who explained her anger as such. With her arms outstretched towards the wall, she raised her left to a spot on said wall. “This” she nodded to her left, “is my anger, and then after a little while, I get over it and I am here”, she looked to the right as her right hand touched a spot higher and above her head. Before I could say a word, she continued, “but…” her right hand lowering and moving into her left fist still planted on the left spot on the wall, “I have to go through it and out!” as she swished her right arm upwards for dramatic effect. She went on to inform me that she knew why she’s angry and thus able to get over it.

And there is encapsulated the simplicity of the human spirit. That there lies within us, the yearning to overcome, to take flight, to reach for the stars. And what beauty there is in this place, no matter the human experience of struggle, pain and sorrow as we relish the passion, the triumph and the ecstasy on the journey.

Soul and spirit – two balancing forces in our human experience. The soul lives in the realm of imagination and dwells in the earthiness of life – with its imperfections; ‘it has an appreciation for human limitations and folly’ to quote Thomas Moore. Meanwhile, the spirit compels us to transcend this messiness called life, to pursue meaning and bliss.

My children have taught me many lessons throughout their young lives – one such is to honour the soul’s impulses to get down and dirty with life – be it rolling on the grass – who cares about grass stains ;), or taking risks with equanimity; and at the same time to revel in power and strength derived from the industriousness of the spirit – to see myself reflected in their eyes, to aptly situate the intellect and art in my life.

I digress a little to say this – children are not empty vessels to be filled, if we only but see, they are perfect ‘soul and spirit’ creatures that our world would then proceed to diminish, until they are, like I am, left here longing to return home. Somehow many of us have forgotten our awesome-ness (‘stole’ this word from the children 🙂 ), we have lost faith in our unique and common existence. We no longer see our true potential.

So, are my children my treasure? No, they are not. Oh, they are precious to me but they are not mine. They are their own persons. As Khalil Gibran said, “

Your children are not your children.
They are the sons and daughters of Life’s longing for itself.
They come through you but not from you,
And though they are with you, yet they belong not to you.

My prized treasures are my memory of them, the lessons I have learned from them, and the love they have inspired.