It's graduation week, a seemingly unending series of meetings, ceremonies, and dinners. This year it all seems a little more real because I'm "graduating" too. After four years in Taipei, my time on this island has come to an end.
For some people (like me) there is an inevitability to saying goodbye. I've never been one to stay put, but it doesn't really make saying goodbye any easier. No one likes to feel that life moves on without them, and in reality that is what is goodbye is all about. It's about recognizing that things are about to change and nothing will be as it was. Some friendships will change, other friendships will eventually end, and life keeps plugging along. Your friends will keep going and so will you.
You can learn a lot about people when saying goodbye. Some people stay with you until the very end, while others seem quick to replace you even before you've gone. In some ways I've always known that goodbyes are the final "exam" of a friendship. If you can survive the farewell you have a friend for life, if not then you learn to let go. The problem is recognizing that the people in each category aren't always the people you expected (or wanted) to be there. There will be those you thought were close friends that will be lost to you and those you thought more like acquaintances that will stay with you forever. And it's not until the very end, or at least until the end is in sight, that you start to see which is which. Regardless, it always feels too late.
Of the many goodbyes I've lived through, this has been the longest. I've known since November that I would be leaving, I knew where I was going, and I knew that Taipei would continue to be my home until June. So did all of my friends, which means we've all been in "goodbye mode" for a really long time. The last six months have been difficult and what I've seen and felt in during this time has taught me a lot about myself and the people I chose to surround myself with. Some days I feel like life has already moved on without me and wonder if anyone will even notice that I've gone. Other days, I am reminded of the incredible friendships I have cultivated over the past four years. It hasn't always been smooth and the people I love today are not necessarily the ones that I thought would stick with me, but when has anything really gone according to plan?
So instead, I find myself being very careful about who I spend time with and noticing who wants to spend time with me. There are days when I just want to be done and gone, and others when I love the company I'm keeping. I guess that's why so many people hate saying goodbye. It forces us to acknowledge that things are changing and not always in the way we wanted them to. Goodbyes are a reminder of who we were, who we are, and who we want to be. They fuel us to be better, but also highlight our flaws. I know that goodbye is a part of life and even more so for an expat like myself, but it doesn't mean I like them anymore today than I did when I was a kid. I may know (and accept) that some people, experiences, moments are not meant to last forever, but it doesn't make it any easier to go through.
In the meantime, I will continue to work through my goodbyes. Making sure that the people I love know just how much, and letting go of the people who have let go of me. The next step will have its own adventures (and misadventures), a series of hellos (and goodbyes), and will continue to teach me more about who I am, what I want, and how to get there.
Taiwan, it's been a pleasure. South Africa, here I come.
Sunday, May 22, 2016
Wednesday, May 27, 2015
Talking to Buddha
One of the things I find most fascinating about living abroad is learning about how different cultures interpret religion and faith. Here in Taiwan the two major religions are Taoism and Buddhism and they each have their own versions of what that means. In my three years in Taipei I have witnessed many a parade where the deity being celebrated is driven around the city while people light fire crackers (more like noise crackers), play music, chant, pray, and even dance on stripper poles while proceeding to a temple to finish their rituals. I kid you not, stripper poles on pick up trucks and ladies dancing on them celebrating of their faith. But I think that's the key, they celebrate faith instead of it being an austere scary almost hidden thing, the people in Taiwan are happy to dance to Shakira in the middle of a temple and invite others to dance along.
There is also a big culture of fortune telling and talking to higher powers through mediums. This weekend I had one such experience. My housekeeper or "ammah" (which loosely translates to "grandmother"), who not only keeps my house organized, but has also taken it upon herself to make sure I'm ok and able to take care of myself (she checks my fridge to make sure it's stocked and if it's not reprimands me for not eating well, I also sometimes get freshly baked cookies) invited me and a friend of mine to accompany her to her temple. She explained to me that the woman (or "sister") who runs the temple is a medium and Buddha speaks through her. My housekeeper told me of all the things that Buddha had told others, some good, some not so good, but all supposedly came true. So of course I, who according to my ammah must have been Buddhist in a past life because I do not eat meat and I have a collection of Buddhist inspired artifacts in my house, needed to talk to Buddha. She (the particular Buddha I would speak to is female) would help me find my way, or at least be able to answer my questions (should I have any).
But what does one wear when speaking to Buddha? I thought of my Catholic upbringing and the "appropriate" attire needed to go to certain church functions. Would Buddha require the same formality? Then I thought of the parades, the stripper poles, and the ladies rocking out "Ojos Asi" and figured maybe things would be a little more relaxed. Fortunately (or unfortunately), I had Pilates class directly before my appointment with Buddha, so my attire was pretty much chosen for me. Off I went in my work out clothes (although I will admit that I tried to find the nicest and newest workout outfit I had).
We arrived in a small alley not too far from the Catholic church that I (sometimes) attend and got out of the car. We then proceeded to enter what I've come to call a "living room temple." You see them all over Taiwan and, just as my nomenclature for them would suggest, they look like someone has taken their living room and turned into a shrine or temple for them to worship. Prior to my visit with Buddha I thought these living room temples were personal spaces, a place for a family to worship at home. As it turns out, I was wrong. While these are living rooms and people do live in the houses they are part of, the temples are open for prayer and meditation. I don't think you can necessarily just walk off the street and into one of these temples, but they are certainly places where community members will gather and share.
Turns out my ammah is one of the senior members of this particular temple and had even been the person in charge while the sister and her husband had been in the US visiting their daughter. As a result we were quickly greeting by the sister and her husband. The sister is a small woman (about 4'10") with an easy smile and charismatic confidence, traits that no doubt come in handy when talking on behalf of Buddha. The Buddha, I was told, is a "Guanyin Buddha" or a compassionate Buddha, she is also a she. We awkwardly stand there for a minute with the sister smiling at us and talking to us in mandarin that is being translated by my ammah. The pleasantries are exactly what you would expect from a first meeting of total strangers and quickly give way to offers of food and drink before we get started. My friend and I awkwardly accept some watermelon but are eager to start.
Soon it is time. We are told by my ammah that we need to step outside and light four pieces of incense. Once the incense is lit we are told to stand at the entry way facing the street, introduce ourselves, and share our intentions for our visit to the earth god. This is done by praying or muttering under ones breath. My ammah also says a prayer which she says will only help smooth things along. Once this is done, one piece of incense if left at the entry way, in its own incense receptacle. We then step inside (taking our shoes off first) and place the remaining three pieces of incense in a burner in front the Buddha herself, while still thinking about what you want answered.
Then we sit. The sister puts on a couple of prayer beads (one is a necklace, the other a bracelet) and smiles. She prays and lights more incense. This time the incense is powder and she lays it in a burner in an almost yin yang pattern. We sit in silence and watch. I'm fascinated by the attention to detail of every step, this is clearly something she does often. My ammah says I must light more incense, 15 pieces to be exact. Once those are lit, I hand them to the sister. She proceed to make a circle of smoke (by this time my allergy to incense is really making my eye water) and I'm asked to stand in the middle. The sister's face changes. Her eyes become squinty and her demeanor is even more peaceful. She asks me for my name, age, and chinese zodiac animal. She tilts her head to the side and asks me what my question is.
I'm at a loss. I don't really know what to ask and say as much, asking Buddha to tell me whatever she thinks I need to know. She says my yuen/yin (sp?) is strongest at home. I laugh and ask "where is home?" trying to explain that as a "global nomad" that term is a bit of a misnomer for me. She smiles again and says I know where my true home is, surrounded by people who are more like me. My ammah translates and quickly asks when I might meet someone special (my ammah thinks this is very important). I shrug my shoulders and the sister/Buddha smiles, goes "hmmm" and says I need to learn to let people in (she's probably right). She goes on to tell me about more about love lost and future opportunities (I'll let you know if they pan out).
My conversation with Buddha concludes with her telling me to keep living my life they way I have so far. She says I will probably not stop moving anytime soon, but should I heed her advice I will meet someone who will be willing to travel with me. She says I am a good person (sometimes to a fault) and I should continue this way. And then we're done. I'm asked to step outside the circle and my friend steps in. She has her own conversation, followed by ammah. The whole process takes about an hour as the incense burns low. My eyes continue to water the whole time but I'm in awe of the whole experience. Soon the sister reaches her hand to the sky and my ammah explains that "Buddha is going up now." With that the sister turns around and smiles at us once more.
We have more watermelon and some tea before departing. My friend and I are each given a mango from the offering table. Everyone is mulling over and processing what has just been shared. There is a sense of complicity among us all as we get in the car to leave.
As I write this, I'm not sure I believe that I actually talked to Buddha but it was certainly one of the more interesting and fascinating cultural experiences I've had in Taiwan. I also plan on going back.
There is also a big culture of fortune telling and talking to higher powers through mediums. This weekend I had one such experience. My housekeeper or "ammah" (which loosely translates to "grandmother"), who not only keeps my house organized, but has also taken it upon herself to make sure I'm ok and able to take care of myself (she checks my fridge to make sure it's stocked and if it's not reprimands me for not eating well, I also sometimes get freshly baked cookies) invited me and a friend of mine to accompany her to her temple. She explained to me that the woman (or "sister") who runs the temple is a medium and Buddha speaks through her. My housekeeper told me of all the things that Buddha had told others, some good, some not so good, but all supposedly came true. So of course I, who according to my ammah must have been Buddhist in a past life because I do not eat meat and I have a collection of Buddhist inspired artifacts in my house, needed to talk to Buddha. She (the particular Buddha I would speak to is female) would help me find my way, or at least be able to answer my questions (should I have any).
But what does one wear when speaking to Buddha? I thought of my Catholic upbringing and the "appropriate" attire needed to go to certain church functions. Would Buddha require the same formality? Then I thought of the parades, the stripper poles, and the ladies rocking out "Ojos Asi" and figured maybe things would be a little more relaxed. Fortunately (or unfortunately), I had Pilates class directly before my appointment with Buddha, so my attire was pretty much chosen for me. Off I went in my work out clothes (although I will admit that I tried to find the nicest and newest workout outfit I had).
We arrived in a small alley not too far from the Catholic church that I (sometimes) attend and got out of the car. We then proceeded to enter what I've come to call a "living room temple." You see them all over Taiwan and, just as my nomenclature for them would suggest, they look like someone has taken their living room and turned into a shrine or temple for them to worship. Prior to my visit with Buddha I thought these living room temples were personal spaces, a place for a family to worship at home. As it turns out, I was wrong. While these are living rooms and people do live in the houses they are part of, the temples are open for prayer and meditation. I don't think you can necessarily just walk off the street and into one of these temples, but they are certainly places where community members will gather and share.
Turns out my ammah is one of the senior members of this particular temple and had even been the person in charge while the sister and her husband had been in the US visiting their daughter. As a result we were quickly greeting by the sister and her husband. The sister is a small woman (about 4'10") with an easy smile and charismatic confidence, traits that no doubt come in handy when talking on behalf of Buddha. The Buddha, I was told, is a "Guanyin Buddha" or a compassionate Buddha, she is also a she. We awkwardly stand there for a minute with the sister smiling at us and talking to us in mandarin that is being translated by my ammah. The pleasantries are exactly what you would expect from a first meeting of total strangers and quickly give way to offers of food and drink before we get started. My friend and I awkwardly accept some watermelon but are eager to start.
Soon it is time. We are told by my ammah that we need to step outside and light four pieces of incense. Once the incense is lit we are told to stand at the entry way facing the street, introduce ourselves, and share our intentions for our visit to the earth god. This is done by praying or muttering under ones breath. My ammah also says a prayer which she says will only help smooth things along. Once this is done, one piece of incense if left at the entry way, in its own incense receptacle. We then step inside (taking our shoes off first) and place the remaining three pieces of incense in a burner in front the Buddha herself, while still thinking about what you want answered.
Then we sit. The sister puts on a couple of prayer beads (one is a necklace, the other a bracelet) and smiles. She prays and lights more incense. This time the incense is powder and she lays it in a burner in an almost yin yang pattern. We sit in silence and watch. I'm fascinated by the attention to detail of every step, this is clearly something she does often. My ammah says I must light more incense, 15 pieces to be exact. Once those are lit, I hand them to the sister. She proceed to make a circle of smoke (by this time my allergy to incense is really making my eye water) and I'm asked to stand in the middle. The sister's face changes. Her eyes become squinty and her demeanor is even more peaceful. She asks me for my name, age, and chinese zodiac animal. She tilts her head to the side and asks me what my question is.
I'm at a loss. I don't really know what to ask and say as much, asking Buddha to tell me whatever she thinks I need to know. She says my yuen/yin (sp?) is strongest at home. I laugh and ask "where is home?" trying to explain that as a "global nomad" that term is a bit of a misnomer for me. She smiles again and says I know where my true home is, surrounded by people who are more like me. My ammah translates and quickly asks when I might meet someone special (my ammah thinks this is very important). I shrug my shoulders and the sister/Buddha smiles, goes "hmmm" and says I need to learn to let people in (she's probably right). She goes on to tell me about more about love lost and future opportunities (I'll let you know if they pan out).
My conversation with Buddha concludes with her telling me to keep living my life they way I have so far. She says I will probably not stop moving anytime soon, but should I heed her advice I will meet someone who will be willing to travel with me. She says I am a good person (sometimes to a fault) and I should continue this way. And then we're done. I'm asked to step outside the circle and my friend steps in. She has her own conversation, followed by ammah. The whole process takes about an hour as the incense burns low. My eyes continue to water the whole time but I'm in awe of the whole experience. Soon the sister reaches her hand to the sky and my ammah explains that "Buddha is going up now." With that the sister turns around and smiles at us once more.
We have more watermelon and some tea before departing. My friend and I are each given a mango from the offering table. Everyone is mulling over and processing what has just been shared. There is a sense of complicity among us all as we get in the car to leave.
As I write this, I'm not sure I believe that I actually talked to Buddha but it was certainly one of the more interesting and fascinating cultural experiences I've had in Taiwan. I also plan on going back.
Monday, March 10, 2014
Less than helpful
What do you do when someone you love is having a hard time, but they live really far away? I want to help them, but I don't know how. I listen, I give advice, but in the end I feel less than helpful. Partly because they are in situations that I can't really do anything about and partly because I am so far away. I can't give them a hug. I can't hand them a tissue if they are crying. I can't just be there, be present, be more than a voice on a phone, or an email, or a text. Even in our hyper connected world, being half a world away is still really far away.
It's moments like this when I realize that maybe I am not capable of being as "independent" as I let on. I'm needy and I get lonely, I'm nowhere as confident as people seem to think I am, and I doubt many things about life, mainly my life. As I write this, I realize how incredibly selfish I sound. This isn't supposed to be about me at all, but about the people in my life who are going through things that I wish they didn't have to go through. I'm frustrated by my inability to help them, but the truth is I don't know that would be that helpful even if I was there. There are moments when life throws you a curve ball and all you can do is duck, but maybe having someone else to duck beside you would at least make you feel better? Or maybe it's just me, it would make me feel better and so I assume that others feel the same way.
So I guess I just want to put it out there. I want the people that I love to know, I'm with you even when I'm not physically there. You are in my thoughts, my prayers, and my dreams. I carry you with me because you are a part of me. I wish so badly that I could make it better for you. I wish that knew what to say to make it all go away. I wish that you weren't hurting, confused, and upset. I am here for you, even if it just over the phone. Anytime, day or night. You matter to me, even if I don't tell you how much as often as I should. I share your triumphs and failures. I will help carry your load if I can (and you let me), and if I can't I will do what I can to remind you of how strong you are. I know that sometimes life doesn't quite turn out the way we want and it certainly doesn't turn out the way we plan, but if you need me I am there for you, even when I'm not.
It's moments like this when I realize that maybe I am not capable of being as "independent" as I let on. I'm needy and I get lonely, I'm nowhere as confident as people seem to think I am, and I doubt many things about life, mainly my life. As I write this, I realize how incredibly selfish I sound. This isn't supposed to be about me at all, but about the people in my life who are going through things that I wish they didn't have to go through. I'm frustrated by my inability to help them, but the truth is I don't know that would be that helpful even if I was there. There are moments when life throws you a curve ball and all you can do is duck, but maybe having someone else to duck beside you would at least make you feel better? Or maybe it's just me, it would make me feel better and so I assume that others feel the same way.
So I guess I just want to put it out there. I want the people that I love to know, I'm with you even when I'm not physically there. You are in my thoughts, my prayers, and my dreams. I carry you with me because you are a part of me. I wish so badly that I could make it better for you. I wish that knew what to say to make it all go away. I wish that you weren't hurting, confused, and upset. I am here for you, even if it just over the phone. Anytime, day or night. You matter to me, even if I don't tell you how much as often as I should. I share your triumphs and failures. I will help carry your load if I can (and you let me), and if I can't I will do what I can to remind you of how strong you are. I know that sometimes life doesn't quite turn out the way we want and it certainly doesn't turn out the way we plan, but if you need me I am there for you, even when I'm not.
Sunday, March 2, 2014
Journey Back to the Middle East
It has been just over 2.5 years since I left the Middle East. To those of you who read the old blog, you know that the 18 months I spent there were not my best. Part of that was adapting to a culture so vastly different to my own, part of it was a job and an office that I never really felt a part of or supported by, and part of it was my own naïveté and immaturity. Living in Saudi taught me a lot about working with different people, dealing with difficult situations, and growing up. I think I left Saudi a different person. I was less trusting, less hopeful, and much more cynical. I had become hard.
I also left with a very sour taste in my mouth about all things Middle East. While I was quick to point out that I had made some really fantastic friends without whom I don't know that I would have been able to even make it those 18 months, I was also quick to point out that none of them were Saudi. I wanted nothing to do with the culture or the people when I left. I was so tired, frustrated, and unhappy that I swore I would never return. And yet, here I am. Granted, I am in Qatar and not Saudi, but it's still the Middle East. And yes, I'm only here for four days and not months, but again, I though I would never again head back to the desert.
Upon hearing that I had been assigned to join the school's MUN team to Doha, let's say I had my reservations. I was still so focused on all the things that I didn't like about that region that I was worried I was not going to enjoy trip. To my pleasant surprise, however, my return to this part of the world has reminded me of all the wonderful things that this region has. First, let's start with the food. I had almost forgotten how much I love Middle Eastern mezze: tabouleh, laban, zattar, pita bread, humus, roasted tomatoes for breakfast, and all the delicious phylo desserts with honey, nuts, and/or fruit. Second, the sun light. It is February so it's not terribly hot, but after weeks of rain in Taiwan I had forgotten how easily you can take sunlight for granted and the Middle East has lots of sun. Third, the architecture. This is a region that is growing so fast and yet they seem to hold tight to certain aesthetics when building, so everything seems to retain it's "arabic" heritage while also being new, slick, and modern. There are some really gorgeous buildings in the part of the world, and the creativity in some of the newer construction is simply amazing. Finally, the people's pride of being Middle Eastern. They are intensely loyal to their countries and in most cases really want others to understand and see why they think their homes are so special. It makes them superb hosts.
So even though there are still parts of this culture that I don't understand (and parts that I don't agree with) I am reminded that understanding lies in mutual respect and a willingness to listen and learn. I had forgotten that for a bit but I think that time and distance has allowed me to come back to this region with a fresh and more open perspective. I still don't think I want to live in this region again, but I can appreciate the wonderful things that it has while also acknowledging the things that give me pause. Living abroad has taught me that nowhere is perfect, but if you want to live a happy, fulfilled life in a culture other than your own you have to be willing to accept that differences are what make us interesting and find balance between your point of view and that of your host country.
I have now made my peace with the fact there is no black and white in life, and only seeing or remembering the extremes can be quite damaging to everyone. I am now comfortable with living in the grey that makes life so interesting and acknowledging that all experiences have good and bad.
Friday, February 7, 2014
The Problem with Perfection
Today I was having a conversation about the pursuit of perfection and the problems that inevitably arise as a result. We seem so focused on searching for the perfect job, the perfect date, the perfect place, the perfect moment... basically we all seem to want "the perfect life." But does anyone of us really know what "perfect" is? It seems to me that people are so focused on the ideal of a perfect something they all end up feeling inadequate because they cannot achieve those ridiculously ambitious goals. No, I'm not saying that people should stop trying their best, nor am I saying that people can't continue to grow and improve and be better, but perfect... that's where I think we need to draw the line.
This desperate attempt to capture perfection concerns me greatly when I talk to my students. They seem to have been brainwashed into believing that perfect can happen and so they all walk around feeling inadequate because they have already failed and, naturally, they are also the only person they know who is incapable of achieving that mystical perfection. They are so caught up in appearances that they have stopped talking to each other, they have stopped focusing on what they have done well and choose instead to only focus on what they need to do better. Again, I emphasize that I do believe that people (and I include teenagers in this group) should be constantly pushing their boundaries, they should be surrounding themselves with people who challenge them, and they shouldn't settle for the status quo because that is how we evolve, that is how new discoveries and improvements are made. What I am saying that people also need to remember to acknowledge and be proud of all of the things they do well, things have already done well, and I fear that not enough of us do.
This desperate attempt to capture perfection concerns me greatly when I talk to my students. They seem to have been brainwashed into believing that perfect can happen and so they all walk around feeling inadequate because they have already failed and, naturally, they are also the only person they know who is incapable of achieving that mystical perfection. They are so caught up in appearances that they have stopped talking to each other, they have stopped focusing on what they have done well and choose instead to only focus on what they need to do better. Again, I emphasize that I do believe that people (and I include teenagers in this group) should be constantly pushing their boundaries, they should be surrounding themselves with people who challenge them, and they shouldn't settle for the status quo because that is how we evolve, that is how new discoveries and improvements are made. What I am saying that people also need to remember to acknowledge and be proud of all of the things they do well, things have already done well, and I fear that not enough of us do.
Instead of waiting for an ideal that cannot happen we should be thankful for the moments that have helped us to change, learn, and improve. We need to be thankful for moments and the people within them, brief as some of them may be. The influence a person or experience can have is not directly correlated to the amount of time they were in your life. Sometimes all it takes is a year, a month, a week, a day, an hour to make a difference, to help someone see something else, something new, something that will alter them even when/if they may not see it at that particular moment in time. Sometimes we need to be reminded of certain things, we need to have our faith restored in others, or even in ourselves and in many ways, it's the fleeting moments that allow us to do just that.
I think, perhaps, we need to redefine (or maybe even define for the first time) exactly what "perfection" is. It should not be the absence of mistakes, but rather what we choose to do after those mistakes have been made. We should focus more on the journey, the people met along the way, and the accomplishments we've shared. We need to help our young people be proud of what they have so that they will take pride in what they can accomplish next. We need to empower them to take risks and be able to accept that that some of them will not work out the way that they expect, and that is ok. They need to know that when things don't work out quite as they have planned, it does not mean they have failed, instead it means that they now have an opportunity to try something new, meet someone new, go somewhere new, and always continue to grow, learn, and change.
I hope we can help each other see that no one is perfect, but happiness does not depend on perfection. We all have weaknesses, but we also all have strengths. We need to work together, to help each other out so that we can all start focusing on the things that matter and leave "perfection" out of it.
I think, perhaps, we need to redefine (or maybe even define for the first time) exactly what "perfection" is. It should not be the absence of mistakes, but rather what we choose to do after those mistakes have been made. We should focus more on the journey, the people met along the way, and the accomplishments we've shared. We need to help our young people be proud of what they have so that they will take pride in what they can accomplish next. We need to empower them to take risks and be able to accept that that some of them will not work out the way that they expect, and that is ok. They need to know that when things don't work out quite as they have planned, it does not mean they have failed, instead it means that they now have an opportunity to try something new, meet someone new, go somewhere new, and always continue to grow, learn, and change.
I hope we can help each other see that no one is perfect, but happiness does not depend on perfection. We all have weaknesses, but we also all have strengths. We need to work together, to help each other out so that we can all start focusing on the things that matter and leave "perfection" out of it.
Thursday, February 6, 2014
Take 2
It has been a long time since I've actually taken the time to write on this blog. I think perhaps it was a matter of complacency. I started the blog as a way to reach out to people who were very far away. It was my attempt at sharing stories and moments in real(ish) time so that they could (in some small way) accompany me on this journey. And then I moved to Taiwan and it seemed as though the stories worth talking about were no longer a part of my life, so I stopped writing, I stopped sharing.
Please don't misunderstand, I honestly believe that my decision to move to Taiwan was one of the better decisions I've made in my adult life. I have grown as a person in ways I never could have expected. It is as if finally being comfortable with my job and knowing that I was doing a good job allowed me to focus on the many other aspects of my life that had been left waning. I was finally able to see the good in my life as opposed to focusing on the bad, and I think we can all attest that many times this blog served as a testament to that... focusing on the bad.
However, now is a time to turn things around, I want to start focusing on life, neither good or bad, just happening. Consider this my Chinese New Year resolution, to try to share at least once a month on this blog and in doing so I will try to focus on just reporting things as they happen or as I see them, or both. There will be positive uplifting moments and sadly, I'm sure, there will be moments that are not quite that uplifting. But that's life, messy, complicated, unpredictable, and beautiful. So now is a time to start including people in my life, instead of holding them at an arms distance.
In fact, I recently had a conversation with someone about the value of life. We discussed whether there is inherent value in preserving life for the sake of life or not, and to be honest after our conversation I'm not entirely sure what I think. I believe that people deserve to live and to be happy but not at the expense of others, and that is where things become muddled, and where I get confused. What I do know is that there is value in sharing your life and experiences with people who matter to you, people that will help you grow, evolve, and learn. In my case that means writing, because the truth is that this is the best (and sometimes only) way for me to include many of the people I hold dearest. So this is my (second) attempt to reach out. Let's see how it goes.
Please don't misunderstand, I honestly believe that my decision to move to Taiwan was one of the better decisions I've made in my adult life. I have grown as a person in ways I never could have expected. It is as if finally being comfortable with my job and knowing that I was doing a good job allowed me to focus on the many other aspects of my life that had been left waning. I was finally able to see the good in my life as opposed to focusing on the bad, and I think we can all attest that many times this blog served as a testament to that... focusing on the bad.
However, now is a time to turn things around, I want to start focusing on life, neither good or bad, just happening. Consider this my Chinese New Year resolution, to try to share at least once a month on this blog and in doing so I will try to focus on just reporting things as they happen or as I see them, or both. There will be positive uplifting moments and sadly, I'm sure, there will be moments that are not quite that uplifting. But that's life, messy, complicated, unpredictable, and beautiful. So now is a time to start including people in my life, instead of holding them at an arms distance.
In fact, I recently had a conversation with someone about the value of life. We discussed whether there is inherent value in preserving life for the sake of life or not, and to be honest after our conversation I'm not entirely sure what I think. I believe that people deserve to live and to be happy but not at the expense of others, and that is where things become muddled, and where I get confused. What I do know is that there is value in sharing your life and experiences with people who matter to you, people that will help you grow, evolve, and learn. In my case that means writing, because the truth is that this is the best (and sometimes only) way for me to include many of the people I hold dearest. So this is my (second) attempt to reach out. Let's see how it goes.
Thursday, February 7, 2013
The Devil You Never Knew At All
We've all heard it said, "never judge a book by it's cover" and yet we are also asked to consider that "first impressions are the most important." So what happens when the cover we've just examined gives us a false first impression? What happens when the cover doesn't give us the entire story? We are left to fill in the blanks. We create our own story lines, back stories that fit that first impression. They are ideas that complete a picture we have created for ourselves but that in reality may not (and probably does not) actually convey the reality of what we have in front of us.
I find this to be a common occurrence in my life. I am guilty of attaching my own personal wishes and desires on people I have just met. I am equally guilty of then being disappointed when I learn that this person is not who I thought they were (or rather who I wanted them to be). I am guilty of not giving people a big enough chance at the beginning only to later realize how amazing this person actually is and how much I have missed out because, once again, I assumed something incorrectly.
I have also had this happen to me and again I think I am to blame. I am guilty of not necessarily being the "real me" at the beginning of a new move, during those difficult first weeks when all I'm trying to do is make friends. I am guilty of being more social than normal. I am guilty of pushing my boundaries so as to try to connect with people. I am also guilty of later retreating back to "normal" and hoping that my new friends will just be ok with that. I am guilty of assuming that they will understand that the person they met at the beginning is not, in fact, the most accurate version of me. I am guilty of giving off the "wrong" first impression.
And so, I'm left to wonder what I should have or could do differently. I am naturally a very shy person, I have a hard time opening up and allowing people to get close to me. I realize this doesn't necessarily make a lot of sense given that I have moved so many times and have had to make new friends more often than most. However, to me, this is one of those instances where practice does not make perfect. It doesn't matter how often I pick up and go, it just doesn't get any easier.
So instead, I try. I try to push my boundaries by agreeing to go out and stay out longer and more often. I try to make conversations with people I don't know, people I may not have anything in common with (and thus nothing to talk about). I try to smile more. I try to keep my opinions to myself so that I don't offend anyone. I try (almost) everything, anything that will make the "making friends" process a little easier, shorter, and more effective.
It's not easy to walk the fine line between the friendly-er version of yourself and the truth. I like to believe that I am a nice person, I would even argue that I am friendly (once you get to know me). But in the end, the truth is that I enjoy a night at home (alone) just as much as a night out with friends. I was once described as "a loner who needs people." I think that sums it up nicely, but now I need to work on managing expectations for both myself and those "people" that I need. I don't expect it will be easy. I hope that I can face this with patience and grace (two traits that are not usually the first used to describe me). I also hope that my friends are willing to share in this ride with me, understanding that the person they originally met is still me, even though the person they see now may not be behaving in a way they had hoped (or expected) me to be.
I have also had this happen to me and again I think I am to blame. I am guilty of not necessarily being the "real me" at the beginning of a new move, during those difficult first weeks when all I'm trying to do is make friends. I am guilty of being more social than normal. I am guilty of pushing my boundaries so as to try to connect with people. I am also guilty of later retreating back to "normal" and hoping that my new friends will just be ok with that. I am guilty of assuming that they will understand that the person they met at the beginning is not, in fact, the most accurate version of me. I am guilty of giving off the "wrong" first impression.
And so, I'm left to wonder what I should have or could do differently. I am naturally a very shy person, I have a hard time opening up and allowing people to get close to me. I realize this doesn't necessarily make a lot of sense given that I have moved so many times and have had to make new friends more often than most. However, to me, this is one of those instances where practice does not make perfect. It doesn't matter how often I pick up and go, it just doesn't get any easier.
So instead, I try. I try to push my boundaries by agreeing to go out and stay out longer and more often. I try to make conversations with people I don't know, people I may not have anything in common with (and thus nothing to talk about). I try to smile more. I try to keep my opinions to myself so that I don't offend anyone. I try (almost) everything, anything that will make the "making friends" process a little easier, shorter, and more effective.
It's not easy to walk the fine line between the friendly-er version of yourself and the truth. I like to believe that I am a nice person, I would even argue that I am friendly (once you get to know me). But in the end, the truth is that I enjoy a night at home (alone) just as much as a night out with friends. I was once described as "a loner who needs people." I think that sums it up nicely, but now I need to work on managing expectations for both myself and those "people" that I need. I don't expect it will be easy. I hope that I can face this with patience and grace (two traits that are not usually the first used to describe me). I also hope that my friends are willing to share in this ride with me, understanding that the person they originally met is still me, even though the person they see now may not be behaving in a way they had hoped (or expected) me to be.
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