The October review last year was subtitled "starting to emerge". At that point, we were coming out of months and months of covid restrictions.

This year, we've technically had a lot more freedom, but we had our second covid fiasco back in July, and by the time we were completely through that, we were into The Operation and its aftermath.

Patience and care are still required, but the doc was very happy with Nigel's progress during the checkup this month. So, having received a big tick, we embarked on our first out-of-town foray since July: a lovely little three-day trip to Santubong. A really cool experience.


The next milestone is mid-December when -- we hope -- he will be signed off completely.

So we're starting to flesh out plans for future travel -- with all the trepidation and second-guessing that involves these days. First up, we have a short road trip in mind for next week, to fill in some of the bits we didn't do last time because we had to rush home.


Then we're eyeing some medium-sized, out-of-Sarawak trip that will fit between Nigel's (hopefully final) check-up and my next specialist's appointment in mid-February. (I wish we didn't have these constraints. But there we are. We do.)

And then it'll be time for a longer trip to Europe again. Travelling slowly, we hope, and taking a few months, but aiming to be back in Sarawak by the end of May.

So that's the latest travel plan. But never set your heart on anything...

Aside from Santubong, it's been quite an interesting month:





It was also the month in which we marked our 25th anniversary as migrants.

It's been an interesting month intellectually as well. In addition to three movie posts (featuring work set in France, Poland, Switzerland, Canada, the US, Ukraine, China, the UK, and Egypt), and a travel post (part of a thread now rebranded as "Going places"), The Velvet Cushion has also featured discussions of six very disparate novels. These are: The Promise by Damon Galgut; The German House by Annette Hess; Brat Farrar by Josephine Tey; Oblomov by Ivan Alexandrovich Goncharov; The Village of Eight Graves by Seishi Yokomizo; and The Spinoza Problem by Irving D. Yalom.

I've come to the conclusion that I use these monthly reviews as mental barometers. This month I find myself excited by the prospect of going to new places, but also scared, in a way I never used to be when planning travel. There's covid. Always. And there's no word on when we're likely to get third boosters here in Malaysia. (POSTSCRIPT 1 November: Apparently, they're coming in November... Fingers crossed...) Then there's the out-of-the-blue stuff that struck us this year. OK, there was always potential out-of-the-blue stuff. Theoretically. But now it is not just theoretical; it happened. And it's going to take me a while to learn that it's not going to happen every time. And then there's the general, acutely depressing global situation, which you don't have to be paranoid to feel could be taking us really anywhere. So many unthinkables are now being pondered as actual possibilities in a world that very badly lacks wise leadership.

So that's where I am this month. Lacking confidence, pretty much as per last month; moving forward, hoping for the best, but very easily disheartened.

What I totally need is what is called in Chinese (I learned this week) song chi gan. This is literally "a relaxed feeling". But the significance runs a bit deeper than that: "Its meaning is close to that of 'resilience' in psychology... Its approximate meaning is a person who can effectively cope and adapt when faced with stressful events, and achieve a state of emotional balance... The opposite of 'calm under pressure' is not 'anxious', or 'pressured', or 'exhausted'; it’s the need to control everything." Song chi gan is much desired in China at the moment, what with the unpredictability of zero covid and all: "At every moment we are in standby mode. As soon as something happens that's not in the plan, it's easy to totally lose it. We all envy and want to be like those who can remain relaxed."

Absolutely a quality to cultivate.

So, onwards and upwards. SONG CHI GAN!