Live, and Let Live


Decided to bring my phone along and use MapMyRun for my walk this morning.

Funny though, my workout was stopped twice in the first 10 minutes. Mind you, this is normally quite a solitary journey with only Mother Nature by my side.

One of the pauses was for Katharine, my elegantly quirky Irish neighbour, who was waiting for the bus to Aldeburgh when I passed by. We chatted for about 10 minutes until her bus arrived. She told me how she was talking to a friend of hers about me just the other day.

I grinned nervously and jokingly grabbed her arm, ‘Good or bad?’

She laughed, ‘Good. Of course good. And she commented that you sound like a spiritual person. I said yes, you are. Such a lovely character.’

I gasped. Me? Spiritual? No kidding eh? All the way, I thought, to be spiritual, you have to be a good philosopher who thinks a hell lot. I don’t really think that much to be honest, not even when times get rough.  I just live. Live — accordingly.

When I was in primary school and junior high, corporal punishment was still the norm for all sorts of ‘crimes’, such as failing your test (The full mark is 100 and that was what you were supposed to get. But if somehow instead you got 88, that’d be 12 strokes of cane for you. Most of the time, they landed on your palms; but sometimes, the teacher preferred your rear end for it. I was once hit so hard that only the first stroke made me almost topple over). As we were lining up for the caning, some of my friends would get so frightened and started crying. Or, when it was their turn, some just instinctively shied away from the cane out of extreme fear, which always infuriated the teacher and they ended up getting hit much harder.

Well, I never cried, nor did I shy away. I wasn’t brave or anything. I was scared stiff like everybody else, but I just wanted this to end as soon as possible. So, with my palms facing up, I grit my teeth. However, those teachers didn’t like this attitude, either. They reckoned that was a sign of rebellion and disrespect (because I wasn’t showing enough fear?) and I ended up like those friends of mine. The way I see it — They were simply a bunch of sadists. We defenceless kids were easy targets.

So you see, I just live. Don’t really think. I’m not exactly an intelligent person and living accordingly actually has helped me survive throughout the years.

Another thing is, I guess I’m just not crazy about the word ‘spiritual’. It just so happens that many of those I know who claim to be spiritual are in fact so insecure and unhappy with their own life that they just can’t help being judgemental and critical (in the name of spirituality or whatever bull they say). In short, they feel the need talking down to you so as to make themselves look good and feel good. How spiritual can you be if you don’t even care to live and let live??

But of course, ‘spiritual’ can be a good word if you’re on the ‘right’ track, I suppose, haha ~ Nevertheless, I’m very flattered. Thanks a million, Katharine ^_^

I had to discard and set a new log every time I was stopped. So, here’s another lesson learnt today: Don’t care too much about the workout log. Just enjoy it and whatever comes along.

In short, live!!

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