How well do you know yourself? Does it matter, and how does it make a difference? What is character, and does one’s self awareness affect it?
It was just yesterday that I began to understand a little more of the weight in my heart. This weight grows daily, and bears down upon my heart.
Character. The word brings to mind positive attributes, hardiness, integrity, consistency. It is a word I like to use positively, and one that I relate to resilience and tenacity. Yet, out of all the attributes, I am beginning to see, that the hallmark of character really is consistency.
I used to think I knew myself. My impression of myself was even not too bad. After all, I seldom lost my temper, I was regularly affirmed of my attributes, and I reflected on my thoughts and actions on a regular basis.
But then, came hundred hour work weeks and 32-hour work shifts more than once a week. Then, one horrifically discovers a different tone of voice, a different measure of patience and a different color of enthusiasm. One’s usually bright, cheery disposition wrinkles into a gray slate; one’s lighthearted banter ossifies into deadweight and one’s personality takes on an odd twist.
Character. I used to think it was the kind of personality and demeanour one displayed most of the time. Now I realize, it is what one continues to exude in one’s weakest moments.
I teared that day, as I thought about it. Was I really a person of character? Or do I crumble under the slightest stress or fizzle in the proximity of the slightest spark? What did I display in those crucial moments of crushing? When I was hungry, tired and under duress. Did I snap or did I stand, consistent and steadfast as I would in the face of clearly better circumstances.
That, to me, is character. It is about standing strong, with consistency and integrity.
Character, reminds me of a tapestry, a tapestry of different precious qualities woven together to form a beautiful masterpiece. Yet, the weakest link could very easily cause the cloth to tear, and ruin the entire workmanship.
It was a friend driving me home one day who said to me, “Wai Jia, you carry such a burden in your heart. You have to throw it away. It’s hindering you from moving forward.”
And I knew she was right. That burden was guilt, and it hangs over like a cloud, garnering more gloomy power as time passes. With that weight in my heart, I started to withdraw, I became ashamed of those incidents which etched themselves into memory and started to value isolation, where I alone could come face to face with those sins. Just a day before, a freelance writer had asked for an interview for the university alumnus magazine. She asked me to name a foible or a flaw I had. I didn’t even know where to begin.
“Too many,” I chuckled. But deep down, was a profound sombreness. Here I was being interviewed for my humanitarian works, and grappling with my own human, sinful nature at the same time.
“Wai Jia, you need to ride with us tomorrow,” said my friend. It was the first public holiday I would have to enjoy the morning in a long while. It was ages since I enjoyed the company of a large group. I had just finished a 32-hour call some days back and had another 32-hour call the next day. I was reluctant. I was tired.
“You have to join us, it’s been too long. You can’t keep isolating yourself, dear. It’s not healthy.”
And I agreed. So I did. That early Wednesday morning on a public holiday (Deepavali, also known as the indian Festival of Lights), I rode with my cycling group to two different hilltops. After the arduous climb to the top, a breathtaking view caught my eye. While the rest of my friends continued to loop up and down the hill, I got down my bike and soaked in the marvelous sight.
Purple skies melting into a golden sun-soaked horizon, above a glittering sea.
And sunlight, bright beautiful gorgeous sunshine streaming down in shafts
through the canopy and lighting up the surrounding fauna.
A sunrise. It reminded me, how God’s mercies, truly, are new every morning.
Every single morning.
Why was there the need to carry yesterday’s guilt?
Why the need to bear yesterday’s heartaches?
His mercies and love are new every morning.
New every morning, indeed.
It’s time to let go, and move on.
the early sunrise from Labrador Park
the view from Mount Faber
“The steadfast love of God never ceases,
His mercies never come to an end;
They are new every morning;
Great is thy faithfulness. “
– Lamentations 3:22-24