California, here we come
It's funny how the universe, in its own mysterious ways, can tie the most unexpected threads together. You could argue these random moments of serendipity become our reminders of the interconnected nature of all things, the space between us, the ideas that travel in and out of our bones. It took place quite late just fifteen minutes shy of the first hour of the day. No one made a sound. All you could hear was the silent hum of my own AC with its gallant breaths, cooling, watching me ponder and walk aimlessly within the my own lanes of the internet. It just happened to be the 20th anniversary of The O.C. Twenty years had passed since the show aired its first episode. I wanted a reunion, an update on where they are and how they’ve aged - how we’ve aged together, to see where the cast had ventured after their stint in the fictitious Newport Beach.
I stuck to the same points that made the show my own personal timestamp for coming of age and the glorious panorama of yellow, sunkissed America. While their iconic music supervision and exploration of teen displacement might have been at the forefront of my memories, it was the revelation about Ben McKenzie, who played the beloved character Ryan Atwood, that captured my attention. In a curious quest to revisit the lives of these actors, I chanced upon McKenzie's recent interview on Bloomberg Live. The subject? Not a new film or television venture, but rather his foray into the enigmatic world of cryptocurrency.
In the interview, McKenzie spoke with fervour about his recently released book, “Easy Money: Cryptocurrency, Casino Capitalism, and the Golden Age of Fraud.” During the interview, he mentioned Robert Shiller and his nuanced exploration of the narratives that underpin economics. Isn’t it interesting how, amidst the convolutions of finance and digital currency, I end up finding the thread that connects me back to narrative, to story, and the way we express the world we experience, as if narrative had no chance of running away, an omniscient, always-present element of what the life I'm living and the lives around me.
Destiny I suppose? Here I was, reminiscing a show about adolescent dread and finding a second family, and finding myself transported into the complex world of cryptocurrency, and the narratives of economic fluctuation. A pair of contrasts that had nothing to do with each other, not a similarity in sight or etched in between, a monochromatic but definitive black and white shade that never wanted to mix. I guess you never know where you'll end up.
A leaf and the wind
I can remember sitting down and looking up at the ceiling, as my eyes fell and looked inward. I've lived a life long enough for me to acquire a sense of tolerance for the unforeseen patterns that dance alongside us. Over time, every year at a moment’s notice, spanned across myriad landscapes of time, I’ve cultivated a profound sense of peace towards the unpredictable rhythms that orchestrate our lives.
But this acceptance was not born overnight. It’s been there all along; emerged from the depths of experience, arriving with no need for a welcome after witnessing the ebb and flow of fortunes and misfortunes that accompany my every step, every decision that felt like I was going somewhere, every opportunity to try something new and give people a change. Like a leaf carried by the whims of a capricious wind. Like our own youth, dancing to our favourite song as we proudly lose our own place and time. I've learned to navigate the tumultuous currents of life with a certain nobility. A kind but assertive humility, an understanding that the patterns which seem chaotic at first glance are but dances of destiny, intricate and infinite in their design. I guess I could call it wisdom, or maybe something more polite. A name hard-earned through the passage of years. This quiet tune imbued in me a resilience, a slow but ever powerful strength to face the unforeseen with a heart fortified by tolerance and a spirit buoyed by the knowledge. That same kind humulity, that lets me know in the grand scheme of things, a gentle breath arrives to announce itself. We are all participants in a dance much larger, more random, than we will ever understand.
During a reflective journey down memory lane, it was unlikely for me to anticipate that my fondness for a past television show would intersect with a deeper dive on storytelling and economic challenges. And yet, beautifully, magically, the way life presents a deck of cards that might surprise you and give the upper hand - that's precisely where the allure of “The O.C.” inadvertently led me.
Acquired by The Guardian
Ben McKenzie's journey was strange, and in because of that, completely his own. Here’s this bright and shining talent, who began with a foundation in Economics, going on to capture hearts in Newport Beach and subsequently chose to channel his scepticism of the cryptocurrency realm into a compelling written investigation. It was unexpected, but given his interests in storytelling and foundations in how the world works, I guess it makes sense? Maybe the world didn’t need to put things into specific sequences, or maybe the sequences and patterns that lie before us were always there, ever ready to be deciphered as a unique arc or a journey, but mocked with an initial impressed of disconnect. He seemed to be undeniably heeding his inner callings, pursuing varied interests with the same vigour, and embracing the many facets of who he is and what he's interested in.
Such a stark contrast in McKenzie’s milestones curiously mirrored my own eclectic journey. I couldn’t help but compare myself to him, not specifically his talent or demeanor or level of access, but the kind of stones and jumps that paved his way, the hero’s tale marked by a degree of change, of courage, moments of courage that both of us seemed to have taken. I thought about my journey skating between the dynamic world of digital marketing and business to the introspective realm of psychotherapy. I couldn't help but discern parallels between our pathways. Just as McKenzie’s voyage seemed a testament to genuine self-exploration, my foray into psychotherapy was a conscious choice, a dedication to a deeper understanding of helping others in my own way. And in these contrasting but equally authentic life choices, I found reaffirmation. It’s such a beautiful feeling, like a hug to one’s own sense of place, of my own agency, a reward for my own curiousities and shameless steps to the front. The message was clear; don't be afraid to listen to your inner voice, what you want, no matter how divergent the path may suggest.
Robert Shiller and his personal website
Robert Shiller's seminal work in narrative economics resonated deeply, offering an academic articulation of my intrinsic beliefs. His methodical deconstruction of the interplay between economic variables and overarching narratives provides a rigorous framework, merging intuitive understanding with empirical scrutiny. Take the 2009 Global Recession as an example. Narratives of unchecked financial optimism, coupled with systemic vulnerabilities, precipitated a financial crisis with far-reaching societal consequences, impacting job markets, investment trends, and government policies. Such events underscore the profound influence narratives exert, not only on individual decisions but also on broader societal behaviours.
In this serendipitous journey, from the nostalgia of television screens to the in-depth exploration of economic narratives, I discovered that life, in all its unpredictability, often presents alignments in the most unforeseen ways. As disparate as the worlds of drama, digital marketing, and economic analysis may seem, they converge in the shared pursuit of understanding narratives, be they personal, financial, or societal.
Narrative Power
Narratives are potent with power. Their inherent capacity to weave the fabric of human experience and imagination into influential tales has long intrigued me. Robert Shiller's exploration in 'Narrative Economics' was not just a scholarly pursuit, but a resonant affirmation of this sentiment. The notion of juxtaposing the very concrete realm of economics with the subjective nuances of narratives might appear incongruent to the casual observer. However, to me, it was a perfect match; a harmonisation of my own penchant for straddling the subjective and the objective together.
Much like Ben McKenzie's serendipitous journey, Shiller's academic trajectory has its own flair of duality. The realm of economics, typically cloaked in the garb of objectivity with its graphs, charts, and empirical data, seems an unlikely host for the intangible nuances of human stories. Yet, Shiller made a profound proclamation: that the values and beliefs encapsulated within narratives have the contagious power to sculpt the very outcome and impact of economic ebbs and flows. Shiler's unique perspective on narrative economics echoed my long-held belief: strip away the jargon, the statistical nuances, the currency symbols, and what remains at the core of economics and business is an delicately regulated and hierarchical human endeavour. Beyond the myriad of numbers and projections lies a landscape moulded by human behaviour, decisions, aspirations, and fears. The power of a story, a narrative, can infuse value into a product, inspire consumer loyalty, or even sway entire markets.
Shiller's acknowledgement of narratives in the dynamics of economic phenomena strikes a deep chord to my belief in storytelling. It reinforces my personal convictions about the pivotal role narratives play, not just in economics but across myriad domains. Whether it's in the therapy room deciphering individual psyches or in a new business presentation selling a vision for a project, narratives reign supreme. They tap into the invisible pulls of our humanity, rendering the abstract tangible and bridging the gap between cold hard data and the warmth of human emotion.
This union of data-driven objectivity and the emotion-laden subjectivity of narratives is, I believe, where the true essence of understanding lies. It's in this beautiful confluence that one can begin to fathom the depth and breadth of human experiences and its consequent influence on the broader societal structures, including the world of economics.
Frontyard at Jalan Merdeka, Bogor
I grew up with stories. I remember brimming with both nervousness and anticipation, stepping onto the stage as The Man from Ironbark in third grade. The entire primary school watched me immerse myself in the art of bringing a character to life. Storytelling, even back then, felt like my own magical conduit to a world where imagination held the reins.
Through the kaleidoscope of years, my fascination for narratives only deepened. The dim lights of a cinema, the back and forth of Cloudstreet, the cues of Thomas Newman scores, the hushed silence of a theatre just before the curtain rises; they were food to my imagination. Tom Stoppard, with his intricate tapestries of thought, razor-sharp dialogues, and labyrinthine narratives, particularly captivated my soul. Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Dead was not merely a play for me; it was a revelation, an exploration of the interplay between fate and chance, distilled through Stoppard's masterful storytelling.
But life, in its patient way, ensured that my thirst for tales was not confined to mere leisure. As I delved into the world of digital marketing and communications, my love for storytelling found new avenues. Each work presentation was no longer just a task, but an opportunity—a blank canvas awaiting the transaction for a compelling dream for clients to buy and purchase. The moments that linger most potently in my memories are those where I stood in front of potential clients, weaving tales that melded strategy with stories, offering solutions, and painting visions. It was storytelling, that age-old craft, which became the fulcrum upon which my professional successes pivoted.
And so, as I explored and entered the psychotherapy industry here in Singapore, it was almost serendipitous that I'd be drawn towards narrative therapy. The idea that stories can heal, guide, and transform felt like coming home. Each individual's narrative, laden with their memories, struggles, and dreams, resonated with the very essence of my journey—a journey where stories were not just tales, but lifelines, mapping out the contours of both my personal and professional milestones.
Reflecting on Technology and Psychotherapy
Embarking on my Masters research journey with Leeds Beckett University, I was deeply influenced by intertwined threads: my intergenerational academic aspirations and a continued relationship with digital multimedia, a relationship nurtured by my interests in technology, video gaming, and more recently, generative AI experiences. Merging personal passions with the academic sphere presented an intriguing viewpoint, but it also highlighted the possibility of biases rooted in personal interpretations, a phenomenon that paves the way for continued research in the industry.
The compact nature of Singapore's psychotherapeutic landscape, boasting only 152 registered counsellors as identified by the Singapore Association for Counselling, at first, glance may appear restrictive. However, it beckoned with a unique promise: the opportunity for concentrated, in-depth research that might provide profound insights into a relatively contained community.
During my research, I navigated the terrain of digital multimedia within Singapore's psychotherapy practices, where layers of complexity surfaced which influenced my findings. One moment came during an interaction with a seasoned psychotherapist. Her reservations about moving to a digital framework, while rooted in an inclination towards traditional interventions, shed light on a larger, pervasive sentiment: the existing dissonance and, in some instances, palpable stigma associated with a digital shift in psychotherapy. This sentiment seemed to reverberate, revealing that beneath the surface, there's an undercurrent of resistance fuelled by perceptions, potentially misconceived, about the digital medium. Diving deeper, I discovered another layer of intricacy: a divergence between therapists and their senior supervisors concerning the role of digital multimedia in therapy. This underscored the wider challenge of assimilating innovation within longstanding therapeutic traditions. More than a mere resistance to change, it reflected deeper apprehensions—concerns about the efficacy, appropriateness, and potential depersonalisation digital tools might introduce.
Where exactly did this come from? What was influencing such perspectives to exist and remain intact? Such insights into the prevailing hesitancy and entrenched beliefs surrounding digital tools emphasised a significant gap in understanding and acceptance. It reinforced the idea that our perceptions, particularly in sectors as intimate as psychotherapy, are intricately tied to narratives we've been exposed to—narratives that aren't always rooted in fact or firsthand experience.
Building upon my Masters insights, there's a pressing need to further delve into the narratives surrounding technology in psychotherapy. Maybe it’s imperative to explore how these contagious stories shape, influence, and in some cases, limit the practice of Singaporean counsellors. When we understand and perhaps reshape these narratives, we might uncover avenues for more informed, open, and innovative therapeutic approaches.
