Reinhard Gouw's Journal

People say follow your passion. Others say be realistic.

And most of us are caught up in between.

I find it hard to really know what I should do with my life. I mean what is passion itself? All I know is that I have certain situations that can light up a spark in me. These are the certain moments when I feel fire igniting inside my soul, and it is the best feeling in the world. It makes me feel alive, it makes me wanna do it again and again, it makes me feel belong, it makes me feel home. I believe you can recall that feeling too.

For me, it's:

1. When I achieve a new milestone in dance, or simply perform in certain events.

2. When I manage people.

3. When my idea and concept turn into reality (esp. in event concepting).

4. When I meet a lot of friends and initiate the "lots of friends" vibe.

5. When I go on a trip, especially the ones with beach, nightlife, and a little shopping.

Somehow, despite all the reality and logic going on inside my head, I believe that they are what I should chase. Apart from the facts of reality, of our social structure, and of conventional life cycle (graduate - work - marry - have children - raise them - death); I'd rather walk and capture these sparks along the way; at least that's what I feel deep inside.

I think sometimes we think too much.

When we were children it was all easier (and honestly it worked out well too!).

Before I graduate I thought a lot of what I'd do after I finish my university life. And up until now, all those nights of endless thoughts breed no certain choice that makes me feel secure. Each choice has its own strengths as well as its own drawbacks, and to only believe in one choice would be too risky. I have so many things that I want to check off my bucket list. And no social system should prevent me from pursuing them.

Some people live to work their asses off in an office, and they're happy. Some others dance their performances away to glory. And there's nothing wrong with both. Simply as long as you're happy, you're fine. No one can set your way to live, as long as you mean no harm to anyone. Then again, some of us may think of this mindset as naive ("wake up, it's real life"), while others call it "really living". Honestly, we'll never know who lived a better life until we kick the bucket and looked at each others'.

So I think I'll say for now that as long as I live, I will always seek these sparks along the way. And when I can't, the least I can do is that I will always -- look forward to it. I will always try to keep myself alive. 

Well this is my young and confused self speaking.
Let's see later what my 40 years old self would say.

I've been working for precisely a month now.

At first, it felt really uneasy. I used to be free, did things on my own time and arrangement. Now I have to work from 9,30 to 5. I have narrower time on my hands. I have to be strict on my time management along with my priorities. I also have to see everyday the people I'm not close with. I have to learn to blend in.

I've gotten used to be on top. In organization life, dance life, etc. Now is the time where everything goes back to point zero. The hardest part to chew is that I have to switch from "sharing" to "learning", from "O.G." to "newbie", from "the famous guy" to "the new guy". I am leaving my comfort zones. Although you might say it's a cycle we all go through, I think it's still an unpleasant phase to be in. But I am trying to suck myself up.

As much as my inner Reinhard likes to think that this ain't the right scene for him, I'd like to say that I'm just trying to adapt with the situation, the work, and everyone in it; and adaptation takes time. I remembered the point where I just joined Last Minute Street Crew. It was a really insecure move for me. Being one of the brightest dancer in campus (call me arrogant or having self-esteem), I have to be the newbie, with not much of an ally inside. I built a wall, considering that most of them was my enemy. But now, they're my family. It took more than a year to break down the walls, but it broke down anyway.

So the whole point was adaptation. I need quite some time to adapt. It made me think it's not the right place. Yes, I feel very small inside this new place. It even made me thought to just quit the whole scene. But, no. I have to adapt in some point of my life. Honestly, the bigger picture of this is about quit trial-ing and start living in the real jungle called life. By time, these bizzare things will slowly be familiar, and I will find my safe ground once again.

May 24th, 2016.

It's been two months. My dog died of accidentally eating rat poison. His name was Vodka. He was 7 years old, and had just celebrated his birthday about three weeks before.

When I heard the news as I left my campus, I was astonished. It was like an ordinary bad news for me at first, I didn't really spend a lot of time with him everyday. But hearing my mom cry made it worse. I started to worry about what happened to him. As soon as I entered my house, I saw my mom carrying his body. Then I grabbed and hugged him. All of a sudden it bursted. I cried to my bones. He was not breathing, nor moving. I never expected the pain to be that deep. I will never see Vodka again, who has been living with our family in the past 7 years.

He's been watching over our family. He's been inside the life we're in. He was there when my sister had her sweet 17th birthday, entered university, graduated. When I entered university. He took good care of our secrets. All of my naughtiness, as well as my sister's. My family dramas. When we fight, when we pray (he would bark at us), when we had good time. The points where everything was okay, the points where everything was hell. He were there as a living member. He was a part of us.

I never really noticed him inside the house. He was almost like an interior for me. All I heard everyday was the bell ringing on his necklace whenever he walked, the barks whenever I ate (which I always ignore, or kick him away if the moment wasn't right), the whole house laughing and gossiping about him. He was always there, seeking attention and care. Just a little rub on his back would make his eye linger and sleep easier. Hugging him with his hands around my neck was comfort.

I took him for granted. I thought he would always be there. But no, he's a living creature. He would die at some point of my life. I didn't value and give a nice amount my time for him and yet his death was painful enough to make me (and other members of my family) shed tear once in a while for about 2 weeks.

In the end, his death made me contemplate. What if it was my closest family members' death? How painful would it be? We lived together longer, talked with each other, shared mutual interaction. I can't imagine how painful it would be.

Rest well, Vodka. I miss you so so much.

I've been reading a book about emotional intelligence and absorbed a real lot of insights in just a few pages.

Emotions are like reactions inside of you towards everything going on. Its system is shaped mostly by your past. The trigger, the frequency, the intensity, they are set by what happened before. Therefore, yes it's hard to control how they evoke inside of you, but you can control how you react to it. Whenever that jealousy ignites inside of you, you can choose to give in and turn it to rage and other forms of insecurity, or you can choose to rationalize and instead, boost your self-esteem and let that jealousy suck itself up.

In the end, we can't deny the presence of emotions; they are there inside of you, inside people around you. But on the other side, we can't make emotion a definition. You can't blame someone for saying he's angry or has his fist shaking, yet. If he's punching people or slamming doors, blame him.  You can't blame someone for feeling jealous if she's not being overprotective. Focus on the reaction, not the emotion. It is also nice to tolerate others' slip of reactions when emotions override them at certain intensity.

We're all learning to control our emotions. They can't define us, as long as we don't give in to them.