my father has spent the last many decades of his life saying that some day, when he achieved a certain amount of something, he would reward his sacrifices by taking that one big trip and experience life for once. enjoy his life in some big way to compensate for all those minutes, hours, days, years that he had given himself to create something for a greater priority. a selfless godful way of living.
there is an old buddhist story. a man is chased by a tiger. he runs up to water's edge by a river. the river is large. a fallen tree is laying by the riverbed. he prays to god and ask for an answer and miracle to save his life. he is eaten by the tiger. in heaven, he asks god why god didn't help him. god answers, "i did. it was up to you in the end to help yourself. why didn't you use the fallen tree to float across the river?"
i have arrived at an epiphany. a half of one thus far. or perhaps only the beginning of a new chapter. it's hard for a woman to make right choices. the world is unforgiving. perspective of life is an art of life itself. the goal? there may not be a goal. perhaps the art of just aiming right and just savoring every minute. pray that it is good along the way. or perhaps being brave, digging and hope for luck. in any case, hope takes us to the next place.
the lesson i want to impart onto my girls, what i have learned thus far at this stage in my life....to not give up hope ever. that you must always live an inspired life. be driven with your mind but let your heart guide you. especially if your intention is to find god. and seek always the good love, not the bad. if you are lucky, you will find it within your lifetime. if not, always still give good love and be brave enough to wait for a good love in return. in the meanwhile, live however best you can and learn about the good and bad. how else would you know otherwise a good thing when you have it?
Saturday, March 2, 2013
Tuesday, February 26, 2013
A River Runs Through It
In life, no one teaches us about curve balls. Nothing is completely random and nothing is completely fated. A rock is pushed off the head of a river. Floating downstream by its own physical definition, guided by laws of nature, it moves towards a predetermined destiny. Some call it erosion while others call it refinement of the jagged edges with each mark that life leaves or takes away. Traveling among many like ourselves, we do it to each other...affecting the other's destination. Until a curve ball strikes. An avalanche. A flood. A fire. Propelling us according to new rules. You may succeed in resisting if the right edges remain to hold you down. You could blame it on the curve ball for the seemingly sudden failure. But at an earlier point along our path, the erosion had unwittingly begun. Bonds that should have saved us eroded under neglect. Some may say it was inevitable. Only the rock would know. Our salvation was simple. To love well when we were in the midst of loving.
Friday, January 4, 2013
Rivers and Stones
We do our best in life to create a path, to follow a direction with our entirety, aspiring for something greater. Two stones begin a path together, both pushed down a river by the hands of fate and with the force of nature's stream. The nature of the stones as they are, with hopefully enough complementary crevices to allow a tight connection along life's bends. Over time, with the washing of the water and the force of the river, edges are worn smooth. If the connection between crevices are not maintained, those would be worn smooth too. Eventually, the connection degrades. Hands slip away between each other under the turbulence of the river. As we encounter a fork in our path, I diverge and you cannot hold on. We have lost those crevices that use to bind us. I follow my fate as you are taken down by the tied on another journey. In our own individual paths, we become ourselves in true form separate from each other. If I should meet you again at the end of the road, by the mouth of the ocean, will I recognize you? Will you have anything left from the erosion of life? Did you have the strong core I always hoped you had or is the center a weak mass of sand? You needed me to shield you from life's harshness. I did so because it was my nature and my commitment to you. I continued to erode away, my bond disconnecting from you, you are now exposed. I wish you strength on your journey to the sea. Do not make the same mistake in relying on another to shield you from the pain of life. The journey of two requires a give and take of love in order to maintain that connection and protection for each other throughout. We cannot become one if our love is one sided. To find your complementary self again at this moment, you must allow the river to reveal new crevices. The journey is still long. Have faith in love and the force of nature as it is driven to find stability by means of a complement of you. There is always hope if you can be true to yourself.
Sunday, November 18, 2012
Love Story
It didn't start as a meeting between glances. Not one of those soulful recognition moments. It took a while to understand what the mind knew what the heart didn't. Maybe the other way around. The intrigue always beginning as a matter of the mind. We sat all night innocently sipping a bottle of wine, talking about the world before us like two newbies about to hit the surf on a warm summer's night. Decades ago. We were so fresh. Revelling in each other's prospects. The optimism was so intoxicating, I didn't want the night to end but enjoyed the taunting game. I was unavailable anyway. You were so patient. If i had known how you really felt, I may have felt slightly offended. But really, I get it. What divinity tied us together and kept us holding on all these years despite the roller coaster turns that's thrown us around? Thinking back far enough to the beginning, I recall a moment when we dared to be vulnerable, a touch that was slightly less than casual. The mental intrigue breaking through to chemical connection. A point of clarity that I could not live the next day of my life if you disappeared. The moment you took me in your arms and we became completely honest with each other. What fate had her hands in our lives, to believe that we had it in us to make this work? I don't know.
Monday, November 5, 2012
Simple Mechanics
I had an epiphany this weekend about marriage. All this time, I've been looking at it all wrong, swept up with emotional ups and downs. Confusion about expectations and goals. Treating my relationship like it's suppose to take me to a point of nirvana, a mind-spirit-body enlightenment. A tall order for my partner and probably likewise for myself. All this news lately about gas shortages up north from the hurricane and relationship journals talking about the emotional fill tanks brought about my epiphany that marriage and committed relationships is based on simpler components and goals. We have needs from each other. These needs seem so complex sometimes, but what remains is that these needs have to be filled....like a gas tank of a car. When we forget to fuel each other's tank, we run on empty and the fuemy grind breaks us down. When we are down, even if we don't want to, we should attempt to refuel each other with the emotional needs the other craves. If we are aware of each other's fuel levels and consistently fuel the tank, we can drive long and far into the sunset.
This brings me to the second part of my realization. Perhaps marriage isn't about trying to reach some point of spiritual enlightenment through each other. We aren't exactly two partners on a ship afloat midocean finding its way to safe shores. Rather, perhaps we are each other's vehicle, carrying our other partner on his or her own personal journey to fate's destination. Hopefully we are both on the same path and can take each other to where we want to be eventually. The vehicle you choose early on may later not be right for the journey. Or perhaps, through its own faults, may break down too soon and prevent you from reaching your own spiritual goals. Or perhaps, there's nothing wrong about your vehicle except your failure to maintain it over time and keep it in good repair for your own sake. Maybe, it's too fast and you don't know how to handle it's potential properly. Or perhaps, it's just a very good car who has been and will always be by your side, through all the broken moments and those shiney repaintings. Like my dad's old rusty corroded Toyota that he proudly dubbs his "corrosey". A 20 plus year old broken down car with still a very good engine on the inside that takes him reliably from point A to point B, a personification of himself. At a point where no one cares to look at this car, that the police is called to neighborhoods where this car happens to be parked, that theives are thwarted from its home when they see the dicrepid vehicle on my parent's driveway, the miles and acheivements that my father has shared with his corrosey have built an impenetrable marriage not even any new SUV could entice. I think that this is what marriage really boils down to in the end. Simple mechanics.
This brings me to the second part of my realization. Perhaps marriage isn't about trying to reach some point of spiritual enlightenment through each other. We aren't exactly two partners on a ship afloat midocean finding its way to safe shores. Rather, perhaps we are each other's vehicle, carrying our other partner on his or her own personal journey to fate's destination. Hopefully we are both on the same path and can take each other to where we want to be eventually. The vehicle you choose early on may later not be right for the journey. Or perhaps, through its own faults, may break down too soon and prevent you from reaching your own spiritual goals. Or perhaps, there's nothing wrong about your vehicle except your failure to maintain it over time and keep it in good repair for your own sake. Maybe, it's too fast and you don't know how to handle it's potential properly. Or perhaps, it's just a very good car who has been and will always be by your side, through all the broken moments and those shiney repaintings. Like my dad's old rusty corroded Toyota that he proudly dubbs his "corrosey". A 20 plus year old broken down car with still a very good engine on the inside that takes him reliably from point A to point B, a personification of himself. At a point where no one cares to look at this car, that the police is called to neighborhoods where this car happens to be parked, that theives are thwarted from its home when they see the dicrepid vehicle on my parent's driveway, the miles and acheivements that my father has shared with his corrosey have built an impenetrable marriage not even any new SUV could entice. I think that this is what marriage really boils down to in the end. Simple mechanics.
Wednesday, October 10, 2012
Dusk till dawn
The three of us girls shuffled into the car in the pending moments of dusk. Not yet 6pm but darkness was already surrounding us. Daddy's out of town for business. I had cobwebs in my brain and found myself driving around the south side of town finding my way to a place, any place that served a decent ribeye - medium rare over a Sheboygan hardroll. Marjele's had a 30 min wait...even on a Wed night!!! F**^&&!!! K suggested we head to Bill's. Well, somehow we ended up at the Mucky Duck.
From cobweb to cobweb, we entered the quiet solitude of Wednesday night restaurantuering Sheboygan style. The only customer was an old man eating soup hunched over in solitude. The rest composed of owner and staff by the bar whom, it turns out to be the parents of Ms. Melissa (K's teacher), who was there to greet us at the door with a giant warm hello and hug! I guess it was meant to be. We had the whole restaurant to ourselves, a 30 minute parent teacher conference, a seat by the window overlooking the night sky and the pier. Dim lighting was a balm to a long harsh day and the loneliness of dining without dad. (Clay's on business in Jersey). K even had an entire audience by the bar admiring her silliness.
I have become a regular of the Sheboygan ribeye sandwich. I've come to know enough people in town to know people at nearly every establishment I enter...people that I know from other
places originally. I have stories about every corner store, every corner restaurant, every restaurant owner, etc. The northside pier has a feeling of comfort to me like home. Tonight it really sunk in me spiritually that I have blended into this city. My heart is beginning to root in Sheboygan. I only wonder if fate feels the same way about it.
From cobweb to cobweb, we entered the quiet solitude of Wednesday night restaurantuering Sheboygan style. The only customer was an old man eating soup hunched over in solitude. The rest composed of owner and staff by the bar whom, it turns out to be the parents of Ms. Melissa (K's teacher), who was there to greet us at the door with a giant warm hello and hug! I guess it was meant to be. We had the whole restaurant to ourselves, a 30 minute parent teacher conference, a seat by the window overlooking the night sky and the pier. Dim lighting was a balm to a long harsh day and the loneliness of dining without dad. (Clay's on business in Jersey). K even had an entire audience by the bar admiring her silliness.
I have become a regular of the Sheboygan ribeye sandwich. I've come to know enough people in town to know people at nearly every establishment I enter...people that I know from other
places originally. I have stories about every corner store, every corner restaurant, every restaurant owner, etc. The northside pier has a feeling of comfort to me like home. Tonight it really sunk in me spiritually that I have blended into this city. My heart is beginning to root in Sheboygan. I only wonder if fate feels the same way about it.
Monday, October 1, 2012
Happy Birthday Happy Birthday
Today Casey turns 1 year old. A healthy rambunctious little tom boy who doesn't take no for an answer. Kaolin turned 4 years old two weeks earlier, a dainty princess going on 14. From a mild winter through an intense and glorious summer, this past year has been about reaching as far as we can go and experiencing good weather.
Five years ago, I had a plan. Quit my job, become a patent attorney, have a second baby, start my own practice, create and market a new invention. With a lot of luck, I have two of the most wonderful little girls in the world in my life. Every night when we prepare for bed, as I watch them roll around together, wrestling and laughing until they fall into quiet tranquility, it's hard to believe that not long ago, both each came out of me. They are little reflections of me, in all their faults and good qualities. Motherhood has become the center of my life. Lately I've wondered about my mother at this stage of her life and my impressions of her and my father's relationship at that time. There was an earlier moment when she seemed very content, energetic and happy. When we were still very young and were easy to control. But as our lives became more complicated, my parents taking on a failing restaurant business, both working two jobs every day, not seeing each other but for brief moments asleep in bed in the darkness between first and second shifts, my mother became more unhinged while my father became more quiet and reactive. As little ones, we really were aware and tried not to place too much emotional demands on our parents. In the asian culture, children generally shouldn't expect that anyway. However, reflecting on those years when my parents worked so hard and suffered so much over issues of finance, the memories were not happy. The memories of our family was not very happy. There were not many moments of joy and piece. I truly fear that side coming out of me.
Doing it on my own has posed many challenges. Trying to maximize time while avoiding the squeeze against the clock. I've decided to invest in a housekeeper, pay for laundry service once a month, eat out twice a week, hire a part time intern, buy an eliptical, etc. All this really helps in keeping my sanity. I know I need extra help when I feel the panic attack set on.
Lota and I are starting a business together. Selling two new products on Etsy. We may have to farm out the work sooner than later, but it has been very exciting. I am not afraid of the time commitment, but do worry that we can't handle it all on our own. We're putting ourselves to the test and seeing how our ideas pan out in the market. We call ourselves Two Wives. I owe every bit of this business to many afternoons sitting on my mother's bed next to her sewing machine, watching korean soap operas in the background while chatting with her about our daily lives in the foreground....my mother sewing away on consigned products and me sheering away at the extra pieces of strings for a cleaner final product. It had always been about two women from the start.
Five years ago, I had a plan. Quit my job, become a patent attorney, have a second baby, start my own practice, create and market a new invention. With a lot of luck, I have two of the most wonderful little girls in the world in my life. Every night when we prepare for bed, as I watch them roll around together, wrestling and laughing until they fall into quiet tranquility, it's hard to believe that not long ago, both each came out of me. They are little reflections of me, in all their faults and good qualities. Motherhood has become the center of my life. Lately I've wondered about my mother at this stage of her life and my impressions of her and my father's relationship at that time. There was an earlier moment when she seemed very content, energetic and happy. When we were still very young and were easy to control. But as our lives became more complicated, my parents taking on a failing restaurant business, both working two jobs every day, not seeing each other but for brief moments asleep in bed in the darkness between first and second shifts, my mother became more unhinged while my father became more quiet and reactive. As little ones, we really were aware and tried not to place too much emotional demands on our parents. In the asian culture, children generally shouldn't expect that anyway. However, reflecting on those years when my parents worked so hard and suffered so much over issues of finance, the memories were not happy. The memories of our family was not very happy. There were not many moments of joy and piece. I truly fear that side coming out of me.
Doing it on my own has posed many challenges. Trying to maximize time while avoiding the squeeze against the clock. I've decided to invest in a housekeeper, pay for laundry service once a month, eat out twice a week, hire a part time intern, buy an eliptical, etc. All this really helps in keeping my sanity. I know I need extra help when I feel the panic attack set on.
Lota and I are starting a business together. Selling two new products on Etsy. We may have to farm out the work sooner than later, but it has been very exciting. I am not afraid of the time commitment, but do worry that we can't handle it all on our own. We're putting ourselves to the test and seeing how our ideas pan out in the market. We call ourselves Two Wives. I owe every bit of this business to many afternoons sitting on my mother's bed next to her sewing machine, watching korean soap operas in the background while chatting with her about our daily lives in the foreground....my mother sewing away on consigned products and me sheering away at the extra pieces of strings for a cleaner final product. It had always been about two women from the start.
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