3-6

I'm starting to hate losing. Yes, I really am. 

And to be clear, it's not about of the state of loss, but because I know I have it in me to be the better player.  To know I am not exploiting it but letting it slide, is what makes me mad.

Three months ago, I would have been relatively apathetic to this happening.  I arrived in Spain with no expectations, no money and no support.  But with the months that have passed, I have come to realise in many ways, we are the captains of our ship.  God graces us with the ability to act with boldness and courage---and even with working and training constraints, the improvements I've been feeling and insights I've been getting into my game have been steady.  The downside though, is that with that steady incline, improvement has also translated into giving off an unhealthy mental odour called expectation and impatience.

And as Capi told me once, expectation is the enemy of us all.

Each time I lose matches or even points I think I should've won, I am eaten up by the overwhelming urge to smash my racquet, yell at myself or even flash my middle finger in the air (the latter of which, I have unceremoniously done recently, and of which is also easily mistaken as an angry flash to my opponent!)

It's definitely not the way to go about things.  I just get so invested in my match sometimes, it's hard to control the adrenaline or the emotions.  My sister reminded me that Rome wasn't built in a day, and so the same should my expectations be in my match.  In tennis, or even sports in general, people always talk controlling the shot, your footwork, controlling your balance or your body positioning.  The emphasis is always physical.  But what about emotional control and conditioning?

Maybe that's what being mentally strong means.  Having a strong mental means you can control your emotions.  And be conditioned to the extent that they (fear, anger, anxiety, worry, anything debilitating) do not control you.  But to keep believing and persevering and working through the frustrations and the anger--until we break through into clear day.

As James Blake wrote in his autobiography, everyday he reminds himself his simple priority.

"Work hard, get better."

"Be a nice girl off court, but you have to be a bitch on court."

--my coach, Stefan, after my 2-6, 1-6 loss during tournament today.

Maintenance

Who was it who wrote that novel Things Fall Apart?

I suppose as is with any place that is infested with feisty teenagers, things are bound to get broken.  Every week, I email the maintenance manager about things that need fixing in the bungalow.  This week, was no exception and the list was particularly long:

Bungalow 1: 
1.  Boys have told me that the air conditioner gives off bad air and smells bad sometimes.
2.  The toilet bowl makes a lot of gargling noises intermittently during the day.  Not sure if it is  a sewage problem.
3.  Water from the shower leaks out into the shower room, and also into the room beside it.  The leak is less from the last time I emailed you, but water still flows into the room. 
4.  The fridge door needs to be looked at--it creaks badly.

Bungalow 4:
1.  Door handle of bungalow 4 does not close door properly.
2.  Water leaks from the bottom of the toilet bowl onto the toilet floor.

Bungalow 8:
1.  Toilet door knob is loose and has come off.
2.  Door of bungalow 8 still cannot close properly from the inside.  The boys have to bang or slam the door to close it properly.

Bungalow 9:
1.  At times, when they flush the toilet, the water does not go down but rises(!!)
2.  The door is difficult to lock from the inside of the bungalow.  It is very difficult both to put the key in and to turn it.  Perhaps it needs oil?

Bungalow 11:
1.  Needs a mat for the front of the door.  The boy has asked the cleaning ladies for it many times, but to no avail!
2.  Air conditioner is still leaking, from the left side of the unit.
3.  The shower head needs bleaching--is infested with mold and fungi.

Bungalow 16:
1.  Window cannot close entirely.
2.  Front door also cannot close properly.
3.  Water leaks from the bottom of the shower cubicle, to the rest of the bathroom.

I sent this list to the manager and felt really bad and sorry for the bloke as I typed it out.  Still, the things really do need fixing and the sorry-ier ones I feel for (if there be such a word), are the kids who actually have to live with it!  Maybe I should tab it as simple "character-building".

In Quietness and Solitude

O God, You are my God;
Early will I seek You;

My soul thirsts for You;

My flesh longs for You

in a dry and thirsty land 

where there is no water.
- Psalms 63:1

Music of the moment: Love Enough by Hillsongs
Snack of the moment: Muesli cereal with fresh peach in cold milk
Table scape: Camera, empty communion cup, pencil sharpener, 5 Euro note.

Most of the time when I keep silent on my blogsphere, it's because the going has gotten tough beyond comprehension.  During periods like this, I am constantly fraught with the guilt of not connecting with you all, but also the larger question of transparency.  This is, after all, a ride I am taking you on with me.  Do I stay honest and continue talking?  Or should I exercise some sense of self-censorship, since, after all, this is a public domain? Usually I err on the side of silence--mostly because the act of speaking, for me, gives weight, voice and authority to whatever I am battling with.  To speak, is to give that problem presidence.

Words are powerful things.  They connote thought, which lead to actions.  And actions repeated, lead to lifestyles which consistently describe our self-identities.  Have you ever realised that even in conversations with friends, the loudest and clearest voice we hear, is our own?

Think about it.  When was the last time you had a heart to heart conversation with someone?  Which do you remember clearer?  What you said, and the emotional cognition that came with that?  Or what that person said in return, and the corresponding reactions that that person's words had in you?

I believe the voice we remember most, is usually our own.

And to loop back, I guess that's why I keep silent during the tough times.  It's one thing to share and place our problems through lenses of perspective.  But all too often, we forget that death and life are in the power of the tongue, and to speak or (so conveniently!) disparage about our problems, speaks also of a weak, complaining spirit.

The only perspective that has worked, has been going back time and again to God's word, and letting His words take root in my heart, and take control of my thoughts.  It's been getting better, and hopefully I'll be good enough to talk talk talk again soon :)

Ways You Know Tennis Is Really Seeping Into Your Bones

1.  When typing "tense", you type "tennis" instead.
2.  When your hand twitches in sync with dreaming of hitting a forehand.
3.  When your hands ache from too much chafing, and your proximal phalanges start getting calluses on both ends.

We Speak No Americano

Song of the moment in Spain by Papa Americano.  Absolutely addictive!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1yi8aJR22Rg&feature=fvst

Spanish Student Card, DONE!

After three months of wait, registration anxieties, unbending regulations and maddening bureaucracy. 
Lord you really make a way when there seems to be none!

Project Al Campo--
Adventure Farmland and Bleating Goats Included

What a day.

Earlier this week, the restaurant manager at S-C told me about a great supermarket about 2km from the Academy.  I stepped out this evening with two friends, Vuc from Serbia and Sharvil from India to check this place out.  It was just across a couple of fields from the Academy.  We thought it'd be easy getting there.

How wrong we were!  What was intended to be a short trip, ended up a massive 5 hour detour.  Bleating goats, Narnia gates and farmland included.

The restaurant manager gave us directions on how to get there.  The store was so big (think Carrefour, but x 3 in size!) we could see it's frontage from the back of the Academy.  We had to walk quite a bit, and the roads were quite winding as well.  Vuc, (one in the left), suggested we just cut through the fields.  Good idea!  Sharvil and I thought it made sense.  (This is the part where in retrospect, I start shaking my head...)

It started out fun.  An adventure looking at farm land--something we're so short of in Singapore.

The ground was surprisingly dry too.  Probably because of the particularly hot summer we're having.  That said, the land was surprisingly crumbly.  Feet were somewhat saved by wearing sneakers.  Sharvil and Vuc weren't that lucky, though.  They were wearing sandals and dirt got between their toes.

Didn't stop us from goofing around though.  After crawling through three fields filled with saplings, weeds, and burnt sunflowers, we crossed a brook on a thin branch (holding hands and yelping like puppies, of course).  Finally got to the railway tracks (read: half there!) (also read: what ignorance.  There was so much more to come....

Got past the railway tracks through this gate covered in weeds.  I thought it'd be closed or wrapped shut by them, but surprisingly, it swung open to the touch.

As we continued walking, we came across a number of strange sights.  Like snail carcasses along old, rusted fence posts.

Past the posts, we saw a massive, massive dog come out of a building.  He looked at us, sniffed the air and started trotting toward us.  He had his tongue out, a thick collar on, and Sharvil started getting ready to run in the opposite direction.  Haha!  I convinced Vuc and him to stay, and as we got nearer, realised he was a farm dogs.  Here I am smiling ear to ear (he was so massive, it was awesome), and here is Sharvil, still scared of the other (slightly) smaller one, trying to hide behind me.  Hahahaha.

The kind-hearted owner invited us in, and we were treated to a spectacle of all sorts of animals, Spanish-farm style.!  It was very exciting to explore.

Their mainstay produce were sheep.  When we walked into the enclosure, we were greeted by a cacophony of "Baaaaa-hhh!"-s.  Flies danced around us in excitement.  The smell was also a little over-powering, but still, I couldn't help but think about Psalms 23, which describes the Lord as our Shepherd.  Jesus is also described as our sacrifice, the lamb of God.  How was what I was seeing, exemplary to the nature of my Lord?

I got distracted while thinking, by a couple of goats further down who where checking us out.  Instead of the sheep feeding by the troughs, many of the goats were jumping up and down the pens.  Standing erect, scoping the latest happenings.  Their behavior reminded me of a sermon my pastor preached once about how goats are generally cocky creatures.  Certainly seemed so.  Just look at the one flashing me his ass!

The lady boss of the farm took to showing us around.  Here's a mother hen warming her eggs.

She took out one egg, smiling, and placed it in my hand.  It was so warm.  The best bit had yet to come though...

After she put the egg back, she took out from the same nest, a 5 day old kitten.  "It's mother put her there to keep warm", she explained in Spanish.

Soon after, it's mother came by to look at us.  Wide-eyed.  Such a young mother!  I immediately felt a little embarrassed--I felt like I understood what she was saying with her large, silent eyes.  "What are you doing with my baby?"

Sharvil and I couldn't help ourselves, though.  The kitty was so darn cuteeeeee!

Vuc couldn't resist either :)

We moved on to little chicklings...

Scoping out papa and mama duck just after a quarrel...

And saying hello to the lady boss's favourite dog.

who was so dexterous, he knew how to rest on just one forearm!

We finally said goodbye and moved on.  Came across a wild peach tree (spot the peaches!)

A dead snake.... (Sharvil poked my sides while I was taking this photo---I screamed big time and then slapped him on the shoulder

Who looked a lot like the burger he ate later for dinner.  Hahahahah.

All in all, it took us a painful 1.5 hours to get to Al Campo.  It was quite funny, because at one point, we were so close to the megastore, it was only 1 highway-- 5 lanes and 3 barricades away.  We got past one lane, but got stumped at the second 2-lane section.  The cars were whizzing by so fast and Vuc and I got very nervous meeting the eyes of passing drivers who looked at us like we were some crazy freaks bent on a suicide mission.  I convinced Sharvil to backtrack (despite his "Nooo! We can cross!  It's not that bad compared to India!! protestations)--and we had to walk an extra 15 minutes to get across.  So far, and yet so close. 

This would all be much better if I could get a bike...

Quote of the moment

"Anything that is unrelated to elephants, is irrelephant." ♥

Quote of the Moment: Firm Grips

"The player who maintains a firm grip during impact reduces racquet recoil, thereby increasing the force applied to the ball.

The optimal effectiveness of a firm grip was supported by research that increased power was associated with an increase in grip firmness.

A reduction in grip firmness resulted in a loss of 10-15% in the magnitude of the reaction impulse occurring in the player's hand and hence the power of the stroke."

--Tennis: the Influence of Grip Tightness on Reaction Impulse and Rebound Velocity, by Bruce C. Elliott