Vantage from a happy place

A story from about two months ago, a week before my last day at my last job.

My mentor pulled me into the 'war' room, a standup meeting room basically. It was nearing his last day too, and he seemed to have something important to say.

Him: "You didn't come to the farewell on Monday."

Me: "Oh, you know, uni..."

Him: "Nevermind. Listen..."

He seemed a little disappointed on how I missed his farewell speech, in which he mentioned something about viewing things from a happy place.

We were both leaving, and I congratulated him again for his new found job at a government department (which I've actually interned at before!). He seemed stoked, you could sorta tell even under his cool badass personality that he can't wait to leave.

Somehow he wanted to check if I was happy (and sure?) about my decision to quit. It wasn't my best of days, but from fuzzy memory it goes something like so:

Him: "Well see now young one, in that farewell speech that you didn't come to..."

Me: "Yeah?"

Him: "I mentioned this point, about how it doesn't matter how bad your job is from day to day."

Me: "Uhuh."

Him: "...as long as you end up in a happy place, because from a happy place looking back, you will always see things on a positive note."

This was someone speaking from experience, an old hand photogrammetrist who has changed jobs probably 4 or 5 times already in the past.

Him: "So it's really been a pleasure working with you, and I do hope that no matter where you go in the future, that you find your happy place."


I'm reminded of another similar story, one which I've told my girlfriend a few times.

There was once a woman with two daughters. All the villagers referred to her as the frowning lady, because of the way she always frowns.

Her daughters are both merchants at the local market. The elder daughter sells umbrellas and other rainy day gear. The young one sells jandals (or sandals/slippers if you're not familiar with kiwi language), shorts and other stuff .

Every day, she looks out of the window in the morning to gauge the weather.

If it's a sunny day, she frowns, because she worries that her first daughter cannot sell any umbrellas.

If it turns out to be a rainy day, she thinks of how her second daughter's business won't be as good, and so she frowns too.

Days turn into weeks and then months. Most people keep their distance from the frowning lady, because of how she always likes to complain about things.

One day, a traveller passed by the village. At the market, he noticed the frowning woman, and how everyone seemed to stay away from her.

Curious, she approached the woman, and casually said: "Great weather we're having huh!"

Woman: "Oh, not really, I'm worried that my elder daughter can't sell her umbrellas today."

Traveller: "That's ok, the forecast does say rain in the next couple of days."

Woman: "No no, then my younger daughter won't have customers buying jandals!"

Traveller: "Oh I see."

Woman: "Yeah, it's really hard doing business nowadays."

The traveller looked around the market and caught a glance of a lady selling jandals.

Traveller: "Is that your younger daughter over there?"

Woman: "Yeah, so what?"

Traveller: "She seems to be doing well selling jandals. Look!"

The woman looked over and saw indeed that her younger daughter was doing fine.

Traveller: "So how about this, when it's sunny, think of your younger daughter's jandal business; when it's raining, think about your elder daughter's umbrella business. Then you'll have nothing to worry!"

Something clicked inside the woman, and she let out a smile.

Woman: "Thank you."

A few days later, the villagers started noticing how the frowning lady looked more cheerful. She later became known as the cheery lady, because of how she always looked at the bright side of everything.


On a recent lengthy layover in Kuala Lumpur, I met with an old friend/classmate (whom we coincidentally used to refer to as old man). This was my third old-friend-meetup-on-a-layover this year, and considering how a lot of my friends are in the workforce now, even an hour or two can be a lot, but it also means a lot.

Upon hearing the price of my expensive return ticket from New Zealand to Penang, I think he almost choked on his root beer.

"Don't worry, money can be earned back", he said. It is time that we cannot get back.

Practically on all of those short layover meetups, I just can't help but reminisce about the past. Catch up about what's happened in life since the last time we met each other. Talk a bit about the good old days in school, of relationships past, recent travels, etc etc.

Then there's news about what's happening in the near future. Friends finishing off some postgraduate courses or license tests, upcoming weddings (strangely not much), more travel plans...

Sure there were some less happy topics, but we didn't dwell too much on those.

In some sense I guess, I was looking through rose tinted glasses because I was in a happy place.

One of my old personal messages used to read:

Stories, can wait to be told; moments, once past are gone lo~


I'd like to dedicate this post to my paternal grandmother who passed away two weeks ago, and my maternal grandfather who passed away about a year ago.

Having attended both funerals in Malaysia, it was a cultural experience for me in a way, never having really had any close relatives pass away in my teenage or adult years. I can't say that there wasn't any drama involved, on either of my mother or father's side.

But I do hope that the spirits of my grandparents can look past that, and rest in a happy place.

There is a book by Bronnie Ware called "Top Five Regrets of the Dying".

Between now and there, it might seem far, but really, who knows?

I'm not saying you should drop everything now and #YOLO, #NoRegrets every day of your life away.

Just maybe consider, are you on track to reach that happy place?

Could you already be there now?