01 Jul 2007, ST
Tan Hsueh Yun
THE best-laid plans sometimes go pear-shaped and it's not necessarily a bad thing.
If this week had turned out differently, you'd be reading a pretty different column today.
See, I had it all planned. I was going to write about overcrowding in Singapore.
It came about because, last weekend, I just kept getting caught in traffic jams at non-peak hours. A disastrous trip to a crowded, noisy supermarket on Sunday afternoon just about pushed me over the edge.
A monster rant started in my head and it just would not be silenced. Everywhere I turned, there seemed to be masses of people. How was this island going to fit a projected future population of 6.5 million when it was already so claustrophobic at 4.5 million? And why was it that some people here were powered by the slowest grade of molasses, walking slowly, dragging their feet?
Singapore, I was convinced, would turn into some kind of urban hell-hole populated by a gazillion shuffling feet. There would be zero quality of life.
To calm down after the bad supermarket trip, I took the long way home, driving down quiet, serene Upper Thomson Road. That is one beautiful road. The branches of the mature trees on both sides meet in the middle. On a sunny day, the dappled sunlight effect through the leaves is dazzling.
The next couple of days went well and the rant started to lose steam. It was hard to keep it up, especially the night I had dinner with four good friends in a Japanese restaurant. We ate superb sushi, drank some good sake and had a raucously good time. It took some doing, co-ordinating five schedules for a work night dinner, but it was worth it.
I began to wonder if I might have been too hasty in predicting that my country was going to the dogs.
Besides, all this complaining wasn't about to improve my quality of life, was it?
Maybe that pastor in Missouri had a point.
That would be Pastor Will Bowen of the Christ Church Unity in Kansas City, Missouri, in the United States.
About a year ago, he launched a campaign to get the world to quit complaining. He came up with a purple rubber bracelet, like cyclist Lance Armstrong's yellow Livestrong ones, and has been sending out millions of them free to people all over the world.
The idea is to wear it and stop complaining, criticising, gossiping and being sarcastic for 21 days - the time it takes to form a new habit, apparently. Complain about even one thing, and you have to take it off, put it on the other arm and start all over again.
His story was told on an episode of The Oprah Winfrey Show shown here on cable recently. I didn't laugh at the idea exactly, but had thought it'd be terribly hard not to complain.
The good pastor himself took three months.
But in the same show, one of the audience members, a man who fits prosthetic limbs, stood up and declared that he had nothing to complain about.
I looked at my life and decided I felt the same way too. Many of us probably do.
It is so liberating to say those words, like having a big lump of something nasty cut out of you. Life looks different, feels lighter, when you're not weighed down by petty gripes. Face it, most of what bugs you is probably quite petty. Think of all the extra energy that can be put to better use.
But I haven't stopped complaining though. Like I said, it's hard, especially when sarcasm is an art, gossiping is a delicious guilty pleasure and criticism is the way some people make their living. I've also noticed how complaints slip out of my mouth without my realising sometimes.
So it's a good thing I don't have one of those purple rubber bracelets because I'll probably have whiplash from swopping it around so often.
And I believe that it's necessary to complain, sometimes. For instance, people should not put up with bad service without speaking up about it directly. Don't even bother to go the passive-aggressive route and call it 'feedback'.
The trick, I think, is to save all this firepower for the really big things that bug you and not use up the quota on itsy-bitsy things that somehow add up to nothing more than a big ball of negativity.
Oh that sounds so Oprah.
But I've become more conscious of what I say, and have decided I don't want to be one of those tedious people who whines all the time.
I know a few of these perpetually dark clouds. I want to give them purple bracelets and let them know they're not sending out good vibes to the world.
But that would be complaining.
Tan Hsueh Yun
THE best-laid plans sometimes go pear-shaped and it's not necessarily a bad thing.
If this week had turned out differently, you'd be reading a pretty different column today.
See, I had it all planned. I was going to write about overcrowding in Singapore.
It came about because, last weekend, I just kept getting caught in traffic jams at non-peak hours. A disastrous trip to a crowded, noisy supermarket on Sunday afternoon just about pushed me over the edge.
A monster rant started in my head and it just would not be silenced. Everywhere I turned, there seemed to be masses of people. How was this island going to fit a projected future population of 6.5 million when it was already so claustrophobic at 4.5 million? And why was it that some people here were powered by the slowest grade of molasses, walking slowly, dragging their feet?
Singapore, I was convinced, would turn into some kind of urban hell-hole populated by a gazillion shuffling feet. There would be zero quality of life.
To calm down after the bad supermarket trip, I took the long way home, driving down quiet, serene Upper Thomson Road. That is one beautiful road. The branches of the mature trees on both sides meet in the middle. On a sunny day, the dappled sunlight effect through the leaves is dazzling.
The next couple of days went well and the rant started to lose steam. It was hard to keep it up, especially the night I had dinner with four good friends in a Japanese restaurant. We ate superb sushi, drank some good sake and had a raucously good time. It took some doing, co-ordinating five schedules for a work night dinner, but it was worth it.
I began to wonder if I might have been too hasty in predicting that my country was going to the dogs.
Besides, all this complaining wasn't about to improve my quality of life, was it?
Maybe that pastor in Missouri had a point.
That would be Pastor Will Bowen of the Christ Church Unity in Kansas City, Missouri, in the United States.
About a year ago, he launched a campaign to get the world to quit complaining. He came up with a purple rubber bracelet, like cyclist Lance Armstrong's yellow Livestrong ones, and has been sending out millions of them free to people all over the world.
The idea is to wear it and stop complaining, criticising, gossiping and being sarcastic for 21 days - the time it takes to form a new habit, apparently. Complain about even one thing, and you have to take it off, put it on the other arm and start all over again.
His story was told on an episode of The Oprah Winfrey Show shown here on cable recently. I didn't laugh at the idea exactly, but had thought it'd be terribly hard not to complain.
The good pastor himself took three months.
But in the same show, one of the audience members, a man who fits prosthetic limbs, stood up and declared that he had nothing to complain about.
I looked at my life and decided I felt the same way too. Many of us probably do.
It is so liberating to say those words, like having a big lump of something nasty cut out of you. Life looks different, feels lighter, when you're not weighed down by petty gripes. Face it, most of what bugs you is probably quite petty. Think of all the extra energy that can be put to better use.
But I haven't stopped complaining though. Like I said, it's hard, especially when sarcasm is an art, gossiping is a delicious guilty pleasure and criticism is the way some people make their living. I've also noticed how complaints slip out of my mouth without my realising sometimes.
So it's a good thing I don't have one of those purple rubber bracelets because I'll probably have whiplash from swopping it around so often.
And I believe that it's necessary to complain, sometimes. For instance, people should not put up with bad service without speaking up about it directly. Don't even bother to go the passive-aggressive route and call it 'feedback'.
The trick, I think, is to save all this firepower for the really big things that bug you and not use up the quota on itsy-bitsy things that somehow add up to nothing more than a big ball of negativity.
Oh that sounds so Oprah.
But I've become more conscious of what I say, and have decided I don't want to be one of those tedious people who whines all the time.
I know a few of these perpetually dark clouds. I want to give them purple bracelets and let them know they're not sending out good vibes to the world.
But that would be complaining.
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