Ted Tsai

I don’t normally have visitors. Every time I hear the doorbell, I usually feel a bit unnerving about what’s going to happen. Now with the government public health orders in place during the coronavirus outbreak, I have every reason not to welcome any unannounced visitors.

Around two weeks ago someone knocked on my door. Feeling slightly annoyed, I yelled: Who is this? What do you want? Reluctantly, I opened the door. It was the guy – the new neighbour from upstairs standing there.

As he came a little too close to me, I asked him to step back a bit (you know social distancing). He sort of did. A few seconds later his girl friend and a telecom technician also joined him. They explained to me that they had trouble getting broadband access network connected to their unit. As a matter of courtesy, they asked me if OK they could come in and check the cabling on my side.

That really put me on the spot. Their request had nothing to do with me. A. I don’t use that type of broadband (nbn). B. According to the government enforcement information, no household should have visitors during the pandemic. So, as much as I wanted to help, I said No. But for the following 2 minutes, I started to justify myself. Typical me! A people-pleaser. Luckily, He got the point, apologized then left.

After that, I started to rewind the tape in my head and tried to analyse everything. For a minute or two, I was beating myself up. Fortunately, as soon as I caught myself doing that, I quickly stopped the negative self-talk before it had a chance to spiral out of control.

Perhaps because I’m now older and wiser. I’ve come to realize:

When we say No to one thing, we’re in fact saying Yes to another thing. It’s fair to say that we all say Yes and No at the same time. So, go ahead and say No. Don’t wait. Don’t hesitate.

A week later, I ran into the guy (I still don’t know what his name is) in the garage while washing my car. To ease the awkwardness, I casually asked him if he’d got their internet connection sorted. He said Yes. Actually, he’s changed the service provider to the same one as mine. A short and sweet response!

What can I say? Saying No is hard and uncomfortable but when we say it with conviction, more often than not, we’re in fact doing ourselves and others a big favour. Knowing saying No is still helping people in some way, I’ve built enough confidence to say No in no time…

Like many of you, I’m home a lot these days.

As an OCD person, housekeeping helps me stay in control of my anxiety. But I also need to remind myself – Don’t go overboard. I remember my shrink said to me: It’s good to be organised but if the ritual becomes a pest, it can be problematic.

Anyway…

Here in the southern hemisphere, another gorgeous day today in Sydney. So lucky, we’ve been blessed with many beautiful sunny days this autumn. I love the fresh smell of sun dried clothes. No artificial fragrance can beat the power of natural sunlight. It’s free and environmentally friendly, too.

After my dog’s passing 2 months ago, I still keep all his stuff in the house. Everything is “business as usual”. For example, his food is still in the cupboard, his toys are still in the basket. As for his bed, I now place it on my bed instead of the floor. It gives me a great sense of belonging and comfort. At night when I go to sleep, I feel as if he’s very closed to me.

The other day I was sorting my dog’s toys before washing them. Most of them were in a good condition except for his favourite one which had lots of wear and tear. Now he’s gone, everything he had touched holds a sentimental value me. By no means I’d throw it away.

Then, there was one new toy he’d never wanted to play with. I thought: What’s the point of keeping it? So on the spur of the moment, I decided to give it away to charity.

Life goes on. For me, it means there’s something to hold on to, there’s something to let go of.

Yes my dog’s gone but only physically. In many ways he’s very much present in my life. As I’ve been on this spiritual journey, taking a more philosophical approach to life’s ups and downs and unexpected events, I realized, I’m not alone. I’ll carry him with me to the next stage of life wherever it may take us…

Life, to be continued…

Even though I’ve been doing my bit to stay at home during the Coronavirus pandemic, it’s virtually impossible to avoid close contact with other humans. What do you do? Be prepared and stay safe!

A month ago I received a renewal notice for my car registration. By law every car in NSW that is more than 5 years old will need to have a safety check before anything else. Like it or not, it’s mandatory, it’s gotta be done.

To get it out of the way as soon as possible, I booked a car servicing time a week later. I must admit, once the booking was done, I started to feel a little anxious about how they would handle my car.

Thankfully, the technician and the staff in the workshop did an excellent job to ensure that my car is not only safe to drive, but also hygienically clean free from nasty germs and viruses. A plastic protective cover for the driver seat, a protective sheet for the car floor mat, and a disinfectant wipe for the wheel and all that. I was impressed.

Before my car was ready for pick up, I had 3 good hours to myself. It was a beautiful autumn morning, so I thought why not walking down to the nearest Balmoral Beach for some free time.

Surprised and not surprised at the same time, there was no crowd. Just some seniors and a few young families with their kids in the water. As usual I proceeded to the quieter end where my dog Jamie and I used to hang out whenever we came here. Time stood still as those fond memories started to pop up…

We’ve seen how the world has slowed down on many fronts due to the Coronavirus outbreak but it hasn’t stopped by any means, and the hard fact is it won’t pause because of your personal stories, no matter how touching they are. It’s human nature… Over time, people do become desensitised.

Having gone through some of toughest times in my life after losing my job and my dog, I realized, being a good story teller is not enough. I need to be a good change manager, too! But the question is: Where do I start?

A couple of nights ago, I was taking a bath trying to rejuvenate. There you are, in the still of the night, when it’s quiet and calm, when you’re completely naked and alone by yourself. No devices and no noises to distract you, what do you look for?

Oddly enough, those thoughts you struggled to make sense of earlier will start to crystallise one at a time. Right there and then, I asked my dog Jamie a hypothetical question: Had our situations been reversed, what would you do going forward?

Then I heard a voice talking back to me: I would be very sad but I would be very brave, I would lick my wounded heart. I would adjust, I would adapt and I would go on living each day to the best of my ability…

Perhaps it’s a case of having spent too much time at home lately, I’ve come to realisation that I don’t need to have a lot to be happy or feel good enough.

Well, some of you may already know I’m going through really tough times in my life at the moment, after losing my job and my beloved dog Jamie.

The world is a fucking mess right now, perhaps some people out there are doing even tougher than I? I don’t know their faces nor their names, they probably don’t go out in public that much either but it doesn’t mean they don’t exist.

Washed and ready to go. A week ago, I decided to donate three beautiful Valentino polo shirts to charity. They were given to me as a gift by my cousin when he came to visit my family from Taipei Taiwan many years ago. If I remember correctly, I’d worn one of them once only.

When I take stock of my small humble place, it’s not hard to see some pieces of furniture possibly need a face-lift. Those flaws were from normal wear and tear but some scratch marks on the coffee table, the leather coach and the dinning chairs were caused by guess who? They were a masterpiece of my lovely, naughty Jamie boy of course. Luckily, he’d never shown any interest in my piano.

Gone with the old, in with the new. It says a lot about a materialist like me.

A few years ago, I vowed that one day when Jamie is gone, I’d replace those old pieces of furniture with new ones. Now he’s really gone, it’s funny I have absolutely zero intention to replace them. Instead, I want to keep them all for as long as I live.

The scratch marks, chew marks, bite marks and whatever marks are some of the living memories that I now treasure most. Those so-called flaws in the past today look so beautifully priceless. No one can ever erase them…

Ted