Month: October 2018

My elder daughter is down with Hand Foot Mouth Disease (HFMD). It’s difficult for us to see her in pain.

Last Friday night, I was on one of my long night drives back into KL. I listened to Shane Parrish’s podcast with Jennifer Garvey Berger. Developmental coach and author Jennifer talked on the theory of adult development. Particularly, about the development and makings of effective leaders.

Initially, young adults have “a self-sovereign mind” where your own thoughts take precedence. Other people’s perspectives are hard to grasp (Sounds like all young adults a.k.a. teenagers I know).

As you develop, you then move through three phases. The first is a socialised mindset, where you live by other people’s perspectives. Then, you move on to a self-authoring mindset, where you develop your own thoughts and systems. Finally, the third phase is a “self-transforming” mindset. Your own systems and other people’s beliefs coexist together.

According to Jennifer, leaders tend to go through the cycle earlier and faster. This is because leading involves understanding other people’s perspectives.

I found that my experience fits what she described. In the early days of trying to build a company, I devoured biographies of leaders and tried to copy them. Needless to say, it didn’t work. I’m now trying to build values and beliefs that work for us. That looks like Phase 2. 

Over on the parenting side, I spot similiarities to this adult development thingy. In the beginning, we had our own idea of what kind of parents we wanted to be. We weren’t interested to listen to others. 

Soon, we realised that was quite stupid. We then listened to what our own parents, other parents, and society told us. And after that, we started having discussions about the values and beliefs we want to impart to our kids. This is where we are now, and it’s heck of a difficult discussion. As if the regular parenting chores and pressures aren’t enough. I often find myself wondering, gosh, this is really difficult. I didn’t sign up for this!

But of course it’s not all bad. Seeing an infant grow and develop under your care and love is quite an amazing experience. Knowing that you are moulding a piece of wet clay into an exquisite thing is really something.

Anyway, I hope her HFMD goes away fast.

The first Haruki Murakami book I read was Kafka on the Shore. I picked it up in Fopp, a discount books and music chain store in Glasgow. I was browsing through the shelves with Flora and a few friends. Murakami books filled the shelves and the display tables. Price stickers plastered on the book covers said £5 for 1, or £12 for 3. I chose Kafka on the Shore and two others at random, mostly based on their book titles. It was the spring of 2010.

That was my introduction to the world of Haruki Murakami. I was an immediate fan. I got quite obsessed, making repeated trips to Fopp to feed my growing Murakami fandom. By the end of that summer, I had finished reading all Murakami books published in English at that point. I had a nice little row of all his books on my bookshelf— Everyone who saw it commented on it.

He is a master novelist, and his magical realism books were well written. The narrative and plot were fresh and exciting. More than that though, his books resonated with me in a very strong way. I believe it was because I was in the right headspace at that time. The right wavelength, if you will, to connect and relate to his words. His words drew out a part of me I didn’t know existed.

Murakami’s writing, both fiction and non-fiction, made me realise something about myself. Up to then, (and this is something I never told anyone), I always thought it was natural to want to fit in, to blend in. I had to play the part, act my role. What role is that, I’m not very sure.

His stories made me understand that it was okay to be different from other people. That the richness in life came from richness of experience. By seeing and doing things based on values, and not based on what everyone else was doing.

It wasn’t a conscious thing. I’m only surmising with 9 years of hindsight. It could be my bias. It might be completely unrelated. But starting that summer, together with Flora, we began to carve our own path. Not based on what I felt would fit in the most, but what was important to us and to me. Things that invited blank stares and an “ummm..” from my peers at that time.

I don’t mean that his books made me change. They didn’t. I’ve always been the curious sort, always looking for new experiences. But I was hesitant of appearing strange or “different” to my peers. I felt guilty about not conforming. It made me feel like I was doing something wrong. Getting a glimpse into Murakami’s world made me realise that there was no need to feel guilt.

Murakami’s critics are aplenty. Most criticisms revolve around his works not being “Japanese” enough. Or the fact that nearly-identical tropes and themes appear in ALL his books. (One more story about empty wells and cats, and… I’m going to have to cook pasta and listen to jazz.)

The critics might have a point. I’ve read every single Murakami book published in English. All the Murakami books that I read after the initial binge left a weaker impression. That is, books published after 2011, starting with 1Q84. They strike me as lacking, missing something core to my original experience. I don’t know if they were not written or edited well, or my wavelength has changed. I guess it’s a bit of both. Novelists change and evolve, and so do readers. The evolution of their styles and values may not be parallel. Put another way, a slight deviation in direction can lead to big differences down the road.

His latest work, Killing Commendatore, was recently released. I went out and bought a copy as soon as I could. I enjoyed it. Not as much as I did his early works, but much more than his other recent works. His storytelling was back to top form, but the actual plot itself could use a little more.. action. Some chasing of wild sheep would be nice.

I’m not an academic or a literary reviewer. I don’t know if his books are “worthy” additions to the canon of classics or not. I don’t really care. What I do know is that the six-month reading binge back in 2010 expanded my mind many times over. It was like waking up in the morning and seeing a brand new world, full of possibilities. Like Calvin and Hobbes’ final comic strip. The one where Calvin says – “It’s a magical world, Hobbes, old buddy… Let’s go exploring!”