Sublimation

Day 1 in Aachen and we've stuffed ourselves at the Lindt factory and the famous Aachen Christmas markets. Aachen is a nice cosy town and it's all romantic at Christmassy at night with all the lights and Christmas decorations adorning the streets. I've made two new friends, Lester and Zul, both Singaporeans studying mechanical engineering here. It is in Lester's place that we're staying for our short stay in Aachen, and he's been the perfect host so far.

Today is also the day that Gigi had to leave and return to Belgium to conduct her sculpting class. But before she left she told me something that still reverberates in my mind, as if she were still whispering it to me again and again. She was teaching me a few French phrases and somehow or other the word 'sublimation' came in. It's spelled the same way in both English and French, but for the latter it's pronounced 'soob-lee-ma-cion', with a deep French accent to make it sound sophisticated and not stupid.

Anyway, according to Gigi, it has another meaning in addition to its scientific meaning of a substance turning from solid to gas; it also means the harnessing of negative energy to do something of a higher order. For example, a lady who can't give birth who channels her despair into building an orphanage so she can still take care of children. That's all she said, but it struck me like an epiphany.

Sublimation. It demonstrates the power of choice, how we can choose whether to let our negative feelings slowly chew us up, or to utilise them for the greater good. It recognises that negative energy is still energy, and a powerful one at that. The same courage that a man needs to jump off 20 storeys to a terrible fate, can be used to set up a charity in Africa. The same motivation that drives a man to murder, can be used to fight for a good cause against the odds. It's the reason why artists produce their best work when they are depressed or suicidal: their art represents their sublimation. I've come to realise that recently I've amassed plenty of negative energy, and I'm sad that I let so much of it destroy me inside rather than channel them towards something of a higher order beyond my own petty sadness. But no more.

Anyway, Gigi has left, and we ran after the train for a short distance after it moved off, waving and yelling, just like in the movies. But a woman like Gigi deserves such a goodbye; she is one of the most amazing people I've met.