Close to nature every day

One of the things I'm truly grateful for is that, just as in our tropical resort-inspired condominium unit back in the Philippines, we live close to nature every day here in Malaysia.

I actually grew up surrounded by greenery. Our old house in Sampaloc, Manila was my home until we moved shortly before I started my first year in high school.

It's strange when I thought of it as I grew older, but back then (it was the 70s), I took it for granted that it was normal for residences to have a plot of land devoted to fruit trees, flowers, and other plants. I remember a big langka (jackfruit) tree in our garden the most, as well as three coconut trees in our backyard. Also flowers like the sampaguita (Arabian jasmine) and Dama de Noche (literally "Lady of the Night", referring to the night-blooming jasmine).

The lot next to ours, which also belonged to my adoptive grandparents, became wilderness for a time. When this happened, my sister and I – I'm the eldest, she's the middle child – would often go to the wilderness during weekends or school break. We would pretend to be explorers, long before Dora and her monkey and her map. I was most fascinated by the sea of tall grass and the atis (sugar apple or sweet sop) tree.

We would lie down on the ground and just stare at the clouds. Not even really talking. Just enjoying the moment. And for some reason not getting bored. Even though we didn't have any gadgets or toys when we explored.

I also invented a "game" that we called the horror show. Beneath the mighty coconut trees were giant slabs of rock. I've loved science since I was a kid, so one day I asked myself what would happen if I lifted that slab as an experiment.

And that was the birth of the horror show.

All sorts of bugs, worms, and other creepy-crawlies were of course living underneath and were now trying to escape from the sunlight. Instead of finding it disgusting – well, maybe a bit, at first – I was fascinated.

So I placed the slab of rock back, and moved on to the next one.

I didn't tell my grandparents or parents, of course. Only my sister, who then said she also wanted to see the horror show.

The first time I lifted the slab for her, she screamed, "Aaahhh!" Not really frightened. Just surprised and disgusted. So I also screamed, "Aaahhh!"

That became part of the ritual. From then on, we would always scream "Aaahhh!" in unison. The horror show.

Looking back, I guess that's also why I'm not really bothered by insects, arachnids, or other bugs. Well, except if it's a flying ipis (cockroach). When it's just crawling, I just shrug and try to kill it. But once that son of a bug starts flying – well, even the bravest must feel a twinge of fear. Except even then, I know I'm still the one who has to kill that roachy Red Baron.

In the face of relentless urban development, green spaces are becoming rarer, and access to nature a privilege. I know how fortunate I was that the first home my wife and I bought was a unit in a Thai-styled, tropical resort-inspired condominium project.

Being close to nature every day proved to be an even bigger blessing during the COVID-19 pandemic. I was diagnosed years ago with depression and anxiety, and the pandemic only made it worse. Some days I would just stay in bed, barely leaving my room, never going down from the unit.

Still, I forced myself to start walking again and getting some fresh air and sunlight. I knew the mental health benefits of nature.

"'Being present in nature doesn’t ask or require anything of us, so it frees up our mind to think more deeply and clearly about things,' says Smith.

"Next time you're outside, take a moment to listen, touch, smell. Notice the environment around you and simply be present."

Just being able to wake up each day to the sight of our family's favourite acacia tree was already a blessing. The one in this photo isn't our original favourite, which was the tree nearest our balcony.

That tree had been uprooted in 2014 during Typhoon Glenda (international name: Rammasun), which is one of just three Category 5 super typhoons recorded in the South China Sea.

It was something beyond our control. We learned to move on and love this acacia, which, like the others, we had seen grow from a tree sapling in 2010 into this mighty tree. Like us, it had weathered many storms.

Storms pass. Life goes on. We endure.

And just as the post-pandemic world became our new normal, living with cancer is now mine. I'm glad, however, that surviving the pandemic and somehow being able to heal mentally is helping me deal with this unexpected storm. I was so much happier when I moved to Malaysia. In fact, one of my first bitter reactions when I told my psychologist about the cancer diagnosis is how unfair it was. Just when I was in a better place mentally, this random, extremely rare cancer had to strike.

Yet living with the pandemic taught me to accept that many things are beyond my control. I've always been a control freak, but you can't be one when living with cancer.

Instead of getting frustrated trying to change what I can't control, I focus on how I will react and what I will do with whatever time I have.

In my case, I've chosen to embrace the ordinary life. To cherish simple joys. Like being grateful for the nurturing presence of nature.

Just going to the garden in our condo building, staring at the greens, blues, whites, and other beautiful hues of nature.

Just listening to the vibrant sounds of its different birds and other creatures.

No thoughts. Just being present. Living in the moment.

My wife, daughter and I are fortunate to live here in Sunway City. Though branded as Sunway City Kuala Lumpur, it's actually a smart city – an 800-acre site that owns the distinction of being Malaysia’s first fully integrated green township – in the city of Subang Jaya.

What's truly remarkable is that 40 years ago, this area was a barren wasteland – a former mining town that was abandoned and left practically devoid of life. Now it's a model for smart cities not just in Malaysia but also for other countries. In 2022, Sunway City became the first Asian headquarters of the United Nations Sustainable Development Solutions Network (UN-SDSN). It joined the ranks of the UN-SDSN headquarters in Paris, which oversees Africa and Europe, and New York City, which is responsible for the Americas.

A smart city is where technology lives in harmony with nature and sustainability is not just a buzzword. Around 40% of this township, which is home to more than 200,000 people, is devoted to green space. Sunway City has more than 150 species of flora and fauna, with more than 50,000 trees serving as the township's lungs.

Everything is connected in this green township, with the goal being to create a walkable city where everything is within reach in 15 minutes.

Physically, this is achieved through interlinked, elevated pedestrian walkways that emphasise low-carbon connectivity.

We enjoy access to an electric Bus Rapid Transit (BRT) system, the BRT-Sunway Line. When it was launched in 2015, it made history as the world's first elevated all-electric BRT system.

Meanwhile, the Canopy Walk or Ecowalk is a great example of the emphasis on walkability and low-carbon connectivity. I had a lot of fun and burned calories when I walked from and back to the mall to experience it myself.

It has solar-powered rooftops, generating energy for the LED lights that illuminate the walkway at night.

The Canopy Walk links up the Sunway Lagoon BRT Station with the other stations – including the stop near our condo unit and the one near our daughter's university.

Virtually, our smart city is linked via free wifi. Technology is used not just for the convenience of customers, but also to keep exploring sustainable solutions.

Cashless transactions are a way of life throughout the township. Residents also enjoy smart management systems. And the use of technology to make Sunway City an even smarter and greener township continues, with AI and cloud computing leading the way.

Meanwhile, of all the different green spaces in nearby Kuala Lumpur, my favourite is the 50-hectare KLCC Park.

It's the urban park in front of my favourite mall, Suria KLCC, which in turn is connected to the PETRONAS Twin Towers.

Before my new normal, I loved going there in the early morning to listen to the different birds and walk around the park.

To promote biodiversity, the park had transplanted 1,900 indigenous trees and 66 palms that would attract local and migratory birds.

KLCC Park also includes a 10,000 sq m manmade lake with water fountains, a 1.3 km long jogging track, and 4.3 m elevated bridge cutting across the lake.

So while the criticism over the constant development of new malls and skyscrapers in Kuala Lumpur is valid, these projects still try to allot areas to green spaces.

KLCC Park is just one of many to choose from, though of course nowadays I have to stay home most of the time, because of my medical and physical challenges.

Which again makes me happy that I am just an elevator ride away from nature in our condo building. It's something that I used to take for granted. But now one of the small joys of living an ordinary life.

Living with cancer has reminded me of the joy I felt when I was looking at the world through the eyes of a child. And that at any age, I still have the choice to see everything through a beginner's eyes.

A beginner accepting that you can't cherry pick your life. That it will always have its ups and downs. That it will make you experience the highest highs and the lowest lows.

That it's all part of nature. This cycle of life, decay, and death giving birth to new life.

Finally allowing me to accept and admire what might have been too ordinary for me to appreciate before.

Like the beauty of a solitary brown leaf falling in the midst of life.