#5: Habitual change
Some thoughts on the Everyday Tasks assignment
Some thoughts on the Everyday Tasks assignment
The Everyday Tasks assignment is a weekly homework activity. Participants take turns to assign an action to be performed daily, and everyone exchanges their thoughts on the homework in the next session. These actions are mostly inspired by everyday habits and philosophies that they want to impart to the group. This article responds to a selection of Tasks, and the photographs are taken from my personal archive of years of wandering. Placing the images alongside the key ideas and themes of each Task, I have chosen to string a loose narrative of building and construction in Singapore, a concern central to my current practice.
What if I were plucked away and dropped into someone else’s everyday stream? Would I feel relief, fear, nervousness, lethargy, ecstasy, displacement or even nothing? How easily would I be swept by this new rhythm? How long would it take before I tried to inject something into the flow of this other person’s life?
What if this other person was me?
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What if this other person was me?
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Greeting and making connections with strangers (assigned first by Hui Ying who felt that Singaporeans can afford to be warmer towards one another, and again by Shawn because he wanted to challenge himself and the group to make this change happen)
Strange things come in the most normal of places.
Are Singaporeans really cold? I remember that being the topic of a lively assessment after the Task was shared. The older participants felt that the problem is not so acute among younger Singaporeans, whereas the younger ones in the group weren't convinced their generation is all that sociable. In fact, they notice older people greeting each other more often than people in their own age group do.
One of the best quotes I have ever heard about strangers is from Christine, a participant who had to leave the project due to work commitments. When asked why she loves talking to strangers, Christine admits unabashedly (and wittily), “Because I don’t have to see them again.” Her seemingly counterintuitive reason reveals why most of us, especially in Singapore or who are from more socially reserved backgrounds, don't make an effort with people we don't know. But that to me, is the very appeal of a blank slate: you can be anyone you want, say things without much consequence, and partake of but not commit to private details and problems shared.
What is perhaps stranger to me is having to maintain a warm status-quo with people whom you have to be around but can't accommodate in your private life, and who likewise cannot accommodate you. These can be neighbours, co-workers, and even the people physically closest to us. Treading around the comfort bubbles of the different personalities around you can be trying but ultimately rewarding if we are sincere about it. After all, we can't expect to be close to everyone. Relationships of various emotional depths are there to remind us that we don't exist in isolation, and that social encounters, however brief, add to the fabric of our daily lives.
One of the best quotes I have ever heard about strangers is from Christine, a participant who had to leave the project due to work commitments. When asked why she loves talking to strangers, Christine admits unabashedly (and wittily), “Because I don’t have to see them again.” Her seemingly counterintuitive reason reveals why most of us, especially in Singapore or who are from more socially reserved backgrounds, don't make an effort with people we don't know. But that to me, is the very appeal of a blank slate: you can be anyone you want, say things without much consequence, and partake of but not commit to private details and problems shared.
What is perhaps stranger to me is having to maintain a warm status-quo with people whom you have to be around but can't accommodate in your private life, and who likewise cannot accommodate you. These can be neighbours, co-workers, and even the people physically closest to us. Treading around the comfort bubbles of the different personalities around you can be trying but ultimately rewarding if we are sincere about it. After all, we can't expect to be close to everyone. Relationships of various emotional depths are there to remind us that we don't exist in isolation, and that social encounters, however brief, add to the fabric of our daily lives.
Looking at sun-rays: “People take sun-rays for granted. Think of the perspective of a dying person, and what sun-rays can signify for her/him. It could mean a new chance.” (assigned by Jason)
The sky is most temperamental at dusk. A musky yellow-brown makes way quickly for a shot of blood orange before I live to see a new night. My stomach growls, and I prepare for dinner.
How often do we get the chance to observe the sun? I course about my day mostly looking ahead of me but the only time I notice the sun's rays is when they strike my skin, reminding me of Singapore's equatorial banes. Many skyscrapers and tall buildings later, I concede that my visual horizon is so filled that sunrises and sunsets are only visible when I'm actually on ground that's high enough, or in open spaces at the edges of the island. If I'm lucky, I catch the very very occasional "Jesus rays" that fan out from behind thick fluffy clouds (to touch us mere mortals). Otherwise, I'm caught up mostly grumbling about how harsh the light is.
But I also know that every other pasture looks greener than it really is, and we tend to become numb to things that are consistently there. While I relish the thought of experiencing the sun in a colder and dryer sort of climate, I would think that I'd get over the appeal of winter clothing and miss the constant heat after awhile. What bugs me deeper is not being able to have more vast spaces with which to see the sun alongside its horizon. The sun, its light, that shapes our daily pace and energies more than we realize.
A lecturer of mine once mused over how a group of Chinese exchange students she was chaperoning kept marvelling at the clear blue sky and sunlight in Singapore. After reading an article about Beijing televising sunrises on large commercial screens in 2014, I finally understood why.
But I also know that every other pasture looks greener than it really is, and we tend to become numb to things that are consistently there. While I relish the thought of experiencing the sun in a colder and dryer sort of climate, I would think that I'd get over the appeal of winter clothing and miss the constant heat after awhile. What bugs me deeper is not being able to have more vast spaces with which to see the sun alongside its horizon. The sun, its light, that shapes our daily pace and energies more than we realize.
A lecturer of mine once mused over how a group of Chinese exchange students she was chaperoning kept marvelling at the clear blue sky and sunlight in Singapore. After reading an article about Beijing televising sunrises on large commercial screens in 2014, I finally understood why.
Recollect and plan the day's task for 15 minutes in the morning when you wake:
"I started this 4-5 years ago when I entered a new job. I needed to reflect on what went wrong and lessons to learn from the previous day." (assigned by Romin)
"I started this 4-5 years ago when I entered a new job. I needed to reflect on what went wrong and lessons to learn from the previous day." (assigned by Romin)
A friend once advised that "wise are those who understand the inaction in action and the action in inaction". We live in a world of unprecedented clutter where it can be difficult to feel calm, balanced and focused. By sheer number of things and roles we need to fulfil, we forget to take breaks for our bodies and minds to recharge. Being disciplined about 'doing nothing' is something I know far too well, and despite knowing the obvious benefits it was still tough for me to execute this task. I would often dive right into the day without strategizing clearly, and without thinking about how I've transited from the previous day. Reflection, meditation, taking stock -- weeding out unnecessary thoughts and feelings not only at the start of the day, but throughout the day as well, is an essential life-hack that can prevent us from burning out.
Breathe.
Breathe.
Reading the obituaries: "Death is part of our everyday life." (assigned by Xi Jie)
Sometimes it seems there is no other form of relief over death except to look at and talk about how others handle it. And other times, we can only look and say nothing about the inevitable. Flipping through the obituary section, I feel like a scientist scrutinizing a catalogue of specimens: What are their names? How many times does their portrait appear on the page? Is the portrait a recent and accurate portrayal of the deceased? Who is this person survived by? Is it anyone I know who died? Is it anyone I know whose loved one has died? How does that make me feel? Do I want my face in the papers like that? What do we really become for others when we die? Why do we need to let others know?
A few years ago, no one realized that my youngest granduncle on my mother's side had passed away. We showed up at his gate on the first morning of Lunar New Year to find all his curtains drawn and the car missing from the driveway. No one picked up the phone when we called, not even his wife or daughter. After rounds of frantic phone exchanges with other relatives, most of whom also did not know the news, it was confirmed that he wanted nobody to know, save for his own family who had since shifted home. To this day we don't know where they live or where his final resting place is. Our families had never been close, but it was shocking to see a branch of the extended family severed, just like that. Later on it was concluded and told to me that my granduncle was always an 'eccentric' man, the quiet and strange one among his siblings. I wonder if it must have been lonely for his wife, to honour this wish of her husband. Why wouldn't we let others know?
A few years ago, no one realized that my youngest granduncle on my mother's side had passed away. We showed up at his gate on the first morning of Lunar New Year to find all his curtains drawn and the car missing from the driveway. No one picked up the phone when we called, not even his wife or daughter. After rounds of frantic phone exchanges with other relatives, most of whom also did not know the news, it was confirmed that he wanted nobody to know, save for his own family who had since shifted home. To this day we don't know where they live or where his final resting place is. Our families had never been close, but it was shocking to see a branch of the extended family severed, just like that. Later on it was concluded and told to me that my granduncle was always an 'eccentric' man, the quiet and strange one among his siblings. I wonder if it must have been lonely for his wife, to honour this wish of her husband. Why wouldn't we let others know?
Copyright 2015 Ng Xi Jie, Geraldine Kang