This piece was originally penned for the 'adult-written page' of the international mulitcultural children's magazine, 'Skipping Stones.'

May 26, 2008

A decade ago, the Universe suddenly dropped me among the work of caring for plants. A bizarre talent quickly revealed itself. Despite no prior horticultural experience whatsoever, I seemed possessed of an uncanny ability to recognize particular plants as Chinese. "That plant is originally from China," I would say, and sure enough, a check of the plant's provenance would typically reveal that I was, indeed, correct. But I had never visited China, nor spent time around Chinese flora. What was going on?

Slowly, the picture filled in. The child of English parents, I was born in Singapore and raised from the age of three onward in Malaysia, one of the world's richest cultural entrepots. The peoples of my childhood were equally Malays, Indians, Chinese, and expatriates.

As it happens, Malaysia's climate and flora is by no means typical of China's. However, from birth onward I lived among Chinese speakers. And although the vast majority of them had never stepped foot on China's shores, China's far-away presence was nevertheless embedded in their cultural mythos - in their dialects, foods, manners and arts. This, I sense, is the pattern I recognized decades later - the subtle and infinitely penetrating forms of what historically informs a Chinese aesthetic the world over - China's landscape, fauna and flora.

Sometimes, I'm touched by how the years have not only deepened a particular resonance with my Malaysian childhood, but transformed its essential character. As a child, the familiar sound of the imam's call to prayer held no appeal whatsoever. Now, on the rare occasion a recording comes my way, I am moved with a fondness beyond words. No soppy sentimentality, this. Rather, my response feels born of a deep and abiding sense of the sheer, absolute beauty of the form. As a child, I was awakened to the Call.

When, as a young adult, I began filling my shelves with music, I found myself gravitating inexorably toward "world music" - towards the sounds of a multiplicity of global cultures and, in particular, toward fusions, or should I say "communions" of different musical "ethnicities." It occurs to me that this innate predilection for such sonic syncretism was kindled in the gracious receptivity of Kuala Lumpur 's embrace.

I sense the quiet influence of the magnificent cultural mix of my formative years still runs within me, like a deep ocean current, invisible but foundational. When, later, as my struggle to make sense of the world and my place in it began to mature, the hidden disclosures of my childhood manifested as a wholesale passion for the world's wisdom traditions. Scriptures of all creeds, windows into the deep wisdom currents that each culture births, stewards, and gifts to the world, poured into my life. I found it easy to love the unique strengths of each - "Great Spirit's Greatest Hits."

It seemed that every movie from India I saw as a child was a musical, with a highlight scene of a love song at the end of a garden. Today, as I potter around my own garden, a defining interest is nurturing the synergistic communion of different plant communities (or "guilds" as avant gardeners refer to them) and the wherefores of integrating these ecologies into my own life and the culture of which I am a part. Simply put, my abiding passion involves literally rooting syncretic culturalism in the dirt. Inside and outside, we are all a family of the One Presence.

Malaysia, my first love. I adore her still.