I had originally taken this down because I felt the metaphor to be a bit extravagant.  Nevertheless, due to the combination of people asking me constantly where this article had vanished to, as well as the fact that I still uphold many of the observations in this article to be valid, I've decided that it will wreak no harm to re-post the copy I'd saved, just in case of a crash.

The Midlife Crisis

1.  Midlife is the old age of youth and the youth of old age. -- Proverb.

2.  "Midlife transition" is a natural stage that happens to many of us at some point (usually at about age 40, give or take 20 years).

Midlife transition can include:

• Discontentment or boredom with life or with the lifestyle (including people and things) that have provided fulfilment for a long time.
• Feeling restless and wanting to do something completely different.
• Questioning decisions made years earlier and the meaning of life.
• Confusion about who you are or where your life is going.

-- Source.

3.  A mid-life crisis is an emotional state of doubt and anxiety in which a person becomes uncomfortable with the realization that life is halfway over. It commonly involves reflection on what the individual has done with his or her life up to that point, often with feelings that not enough was accomplished. The individuals experiencing such may feel boredom with their lives, jobs, or their partners, and may feel a strong desire to make changes in these areas. The condition is also called the beginning of individuation, a process of self-actualization...

-- Source.

9th August 2006

...will mark Singapore's birthday, and celebrate its conception on 9th August 1965 as an independent state, separate from Malaysia.  The red-and-white flags paint a resplendent 41 all over the sprawling heartlands, the guns are being polished, the soldiers examine their tan-lines from hours spent in the sun with army caps and short-sleeved uniforms.  It is a landmark occasion, yes -- just like all the ones before it, and all the ones that will come after.  And even as we prepare to turn up in droves, wave our free plastic flags and collect our goodie bags from the National Day Parade, these preparations are underlined with confusion, disenfranchisement, and a need to reach beneath and beyond the orchestrated jubilation to reach the heart of what it means to be Singapore -- at 41 years old.

The old age of youth and the youth of old age.  Singapore can no longer play the child prodigy in international affairs.  For decades it has been the success story and the darling of economists eager to prove the possibilities for young, developing nations in their nascence.  Singapore has barged its way into economic success, and now has to deal with the problems and difficulties faced by other mature and developed nations; inflation, the need for quick and competent structural adjustments, and remaining relevant to the rapidly-shifting demands of the global economy.  Billions of dollars are being pumped into our biomedical and IT sectors.  We are developing new resorts, casinos, and revamping our shopping choices. We are freewheeling into a new dimension.  Lee Hsien Loong's 2005 National Day Rally speech revolved around the theme of 'Remaking Singapore'.  Our leadership has rightly acknowledged - in some aspects, at least - that we are entering an era with new demands and higher expectations.  Nothing can be taken for granted any longer.  We have reached the old age of youth, and the youth of our old age.

Discontentment and/or boredom with lifestyles that have provided fulfillment for a long time.  Reinvention, recreation, retraining: these are words which leap easily to the fingertips of our administration.  But even as we search desperately for ways to stay young, there are signs of our ageing.  Singaporeans are no longer content with toys.  Post-65ers are not satisfied with budget surpluses.  They are looking deeper, increasingly frustrated and unsatisfied with the explanations of what it means to be Singaporean.  "Who are you, my country?" is not by any means a new or radical question.  For countless years, it has been asked, and for years to come, it will continue to be heard.  No one will ever find The Answer.  In the meantime, however, what is important to note is that more and more Singaporeans are asking themselves deep-seated questions of identity.  It is a concept that matters increasingly, to an increasing number of people -- not a small number of academics from the intelligentsia, but Singaporeans who live and work as professionals, who are part of tomorrow's masses.  Abstract, it may still be.  Esoteric, it is not.

Mr brown posted a podcast entitled 'I am Singaporean', a spin-off from a Canadian advertising campaign that re-awakened Canadian nationalism.  In his podcast, he concretizes what it means to be Singaporean on a personal level, from his perspective as a middle-aged Singaporean from the heartlands.  He talks about his HDB flat, his car, his family.  Many bloggers have responded with declarations of their own which -- at times, painfully -- grapple with their Singaporean identity.

"I am a Singaporean.

I grew up in a shophouse first, then as a heartlander in a HDB flat.
But I also remember my kampung days back at the sua teng.

My 'native' language is English,
Not some Mother Tongue called Mandarin
Because my parents conversed almost entirely in English with me since young.

I speak Singlish, along with street Hokkien and rusty Cantonese with pride
Because it is uniquely Singapore
And because some older folks can only understand their dialects.

I know how it feels to be one united people
Not just at the National Stadium during National Day Parades,
But also at the opposition rallies during the General Elections."

-- gecko.

The above blogger attempts to capture the essence of his Singaporean identity through exploring his memories of childhood, political exposure, the notions of language and culture, and various other growing pains and adult burdens as experienced through the lens of a Singaporean.  Even as he builds up that identity, however, other bloggers on a similar endeavour find themselves at an impasse; a bewildering lack of, or even an outright refusal to acknowledge, that same identity -- case in point, with these excerpts from a piece that speaks with piercing honesty about disenfranchisement:

"I am Singaporean because I was born here, and I hold a red passport with two golden lions(tigers? who knows?) thrusting their chest out and sneering to rude immigration officers: let her pass, she's from a first-world country, you know, an air-conditioned nation. I am Singaporean because I have a pink identification card that conscientiously reminds me and everyone else who registers me at a checkpoint, an exam, a driving test, a club, my own wedding, that my race is Malay and I better not forget it. But of course, I am taught not to discriminate others based on what it states on their I.C.

...I am Singaporean but the cab driver cannot believe it when I say I'm Malay and I am attending university. Waaah, Malay people so smart nowaday hor. You full Malay or half Malay only?

I am Singaporean but I refuse to sing the national anthem because progress, ambition and prosperity are not my main priorities so I will not sing about them.

I am Singaporean because now, at 21, I am lost. I have spent my childhood in school, in art class, at violin lessons, being told to study, and studying hard, harder, hardest to find that I did not need to know anything I have learnt, that I know nothing worth knowing. Now, at 21, I am thirstier than ever because there are so many spaces to fill in my mind where the layers of temporary wisdom have left, leaving a pitiful vacuum full of unanswered questions.

...I am Singaporean because I don't know who I am just yet.

 I am not Singaporean if Singapore= the Government, order= hegemonic rule, if policy-making= commanding.

I am not Singaporean if debating about public policy means I will be shamed, ridiculed and punished.

They say I should love my country, hang my flag out proudly for national day, say my pledge with some measure of pride. Yet, they will never let me fly a fighter plane to defend Singapore. I am not Singaporean, but I will be "Malay" to them if we ever go to war with our neighbours.

I am not Singaporean, not at all, until they learn to respect me."

-- ballsy.

The beginning of individuation, the process of self-actualization... There are two Singapores which may arise from the rubble of such a crisis.  The first is a scattershot hodge-podge coincidence of mutual economic interests, where people live here and call themselves Singaporean for as long as it is safe and profitable to do so.  This may be perfectly acceptable to many people.  We may be witnessing, after all, the death of the relevance of patriotism in an increasingly globalized world, where the new paradigms of our 21st-century global village revolve around opportunity and self-realization.  The bounds of community and tradition, while growing stronger, such as in much of the Muslim world, or perhaps in the case of European nationalism, also seem to be losing significance in the consumerist philosophy that proliferates Singaporean society -- I have so many choices, now let's pick what's best for me.  It may well be for many people that it is unnecessary, futile and only engenders distress to invest time and effort in a place that after all, is only a construct, and an imagined community based on simple land.

If, however, we want to create a country where people have a stake; where a belief in a common destiny makes them cast their lots in with this community of family, friends and even complete strangers -- if we are concerned with the survival of Singapore as a distinctly identifiable nation, and not simply a glorified marketplace or a plot of land with added value, then this mid-life crisis may well spell out the chance to build that nation.  Cultures, communities and civilizations are jostling for space in this interconnected international arena.  If, as Singaporeans, we intend to carve out a cultural space for our little island, then we need to draw on something more real and more convincing than "Count on me, Singapore / Count on me to give my best and more".  The government may do its valiant best to engineer nationalism, but perhaps we need only look -- just for starters -- at ballsy's indirect articulation of the failure of those efforts, to discover some of the sentiments which are holding us back from giving ourselves to this country.