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Showing posts with label personal. Show all posts
Showing posts with label personal. Show all posts
Monday, September 20, 2010
Envy
Community Leads to Happiness
| While reading Eric Weiner's The Geography of Bliss, I identified with a lot of his sweeping generalizations about happiness, lessons that I too have learned while living abroad in Africa and China. These past four years have been good to me on the happiness scale. I have learned that even though I believe that I am happiest as an isolated loner, the reality is I've always been surrounded by community and that is a source of my happiness. Through his travels Weiner realized that the nature of happiness comes from family and friends. I learned this recently while traveling in Seattle then to Colorado. During the first few days I barely spoke to anyone, biking everywhere, isolating myself in lonerville, and felt like I didn't belong to America anymore, felt that my travels abroad had somehow changed me so much that America was no longer comfortable or familiar. Then slowly I started meeting up with old friends. Then I went to Colorado where I was completely surrounded by friends and family without a moment to be alone. By the end of the month of home leave, I was once again feeling like an American who belongs, not some expat strange alien who was visiting a weird planet for a month. Both in Africa and China, I have spent large amounts of time alone; however, I am never completely alone. Community always seems to find me. In Africa, there were the tea guys, the fruit and rice ladies, the students, the four wives of a compound where I lived, the tree where people gathered, the accused witch who lived next door, the kids who would play games, sing, and color on my front porch. In China, there are the back gate street food vendors, the students and teachers, the knitting ladies, the tea guy at the Baijia supermarket, the grandparents with babies and children, the cafeteria workers. I often think I am an introverted science geek, but actually reality shows that I know how to be likable allowing a community to surround me. My genuine curiosity about people with different life experiences and from other cultures is probably one of the reasons why I am always surrounded by community and thus happy. There are times when I think I want to join a Buddhist monastery, isolate myself even further from the outside world, find peace within meditation, silent retreats, and simple living. Or go to Antarctica or find a job on a fishing boat and learn about the isolation of being surrounded by ice or water. The truth of the matter is that even with this belief that I thrive best alone, I never escape people or community. Why would I want to anyways? Life has taught me that I am happiest surrounded by community. Where does this desire for isolation come from? Aren't we all seeking happiness? I have found it so why do I seek a life in the opposite direction? |
Friday, July 09, 2010
Foreigner Hater
Today my counterpart said, "You are good at small talk."
To which I then replied, "Only around Chinese people."
Lately I've been jokingly told that I am a foreigner hater. Here when I use the word "foreigner," I am not talking about the host country nationals, but about us, the foreigners who are visiting China. Why would someone say, "Jen, you are a foreigner hater"? Because in my city I tend to avoid social situations where there will be a lot of foreigners. What? Why?
I think there are several reasons. One, the pool of foreigners is small and just because we are all foreigners doesn't necessarily mean that we are compatible personalities. A lot of the friendships are somehow forced just because we share a common first language. I don't like forcing friendships with foreigners. Another reason is because I am bad at small talk, so I was surprised when my counterpart made her comment.
Why do I mind forcing friendships with foreigners but not mind forcing friendships with host country nationals?
Because I am guest in this country and feel a great interest in learning about the people here, any of the people who are willing to talk to me. When I go back to the USA where the pool of Westerners is huge, I can then find the people I like and want to be friends with. Why force myself to interact with a few native English speakers? I think the difference is, making friends with host country nationals is about the country and culture. They are representatives of China. Making friends with fellow foreigners is about a connection between two personalities, two individuals.
What is the difference between small talk with Chinese people and small talk with foreigners?
Today I went to hot pot with my counterpart and with her friend, a stranger to me. I had no problem barging in and asking personal and friendly questions, but when I am around foreigners I tend to put on the silencer. I think when I am around Chinese people who are trying to improve their English, I go into teacher mode and just try to ask as many questions as possible to get them to use their language skills. With foreigners, I have to become a person, not a teacher. I have to open up and talk, have more of a personal one on one type of interaction with hopes of some type of personal connection with the real me, not the teacher me, the real me, not the censored me. After four years abroad, I have kind of forgotten the uncensored person which makes it hard for me to connect on a personal level with other foreigners. I feel like I am somehow, kind of phony, a shell of a personality. This phony diplomatic representative of Peace Corps knows how to make small talk with Chinese people. The real individual person has been lost and therefore silent around fellow foreigners.
I don't know how to really explain it. Anyone else out there know what I am talking about and maybe can explain it better?
To which I then replied, "Only around Chinese people."
Lately I've been jokingly told that I am a foreigner hater. Here when I use the word "foreigner," I am not talking about the host country nationals, but about us, the foreigners who are visiting China. Why would someone say, "Jen, you are a foreigner hater"? Because in my city I tend to avoid social situations where there will be a lot of foreigners. What? Why?
I think there are several reasons. One, the pool of foreigners is small and just because we are all foreigners doesn't necessarily mean that we are compatible personalities. A lot of the friendships are somehow forced just because we share a common first language. I don't like forcing friendships with foreigners. Another reason is because I am bad at small talk, so I was surprised when my counterpart made her comment.
Why do I mind forcing friendships with foreigners but not mind forcing friendships with host country nationals?
Because I am guest in this country and feel a great interest in learning about the people here, any of the people who are willing to talk to me. When I go back to the USA where the pool of Westerners is huge, I can then find the people I like and want to be friends with. Why force myself to interact with a few native English speakers? I think the difference is, making friends with host country nationals is about the country and culture. They are representatives of China. Making friends with fellow foreigners is about a connection between two personalities, two individuals.
What is the difference between small talk with Chinese people and small talk with foreigners?
Today I went to hot pot with my counterpart and with her friend, a stranger to me. I had no problem barging in and asking personal and friendly questions, but when I am around foreigners I tend to put on the silencer. I think when I am around Chinese people who are trying to improve their English, I go into teacher mode and just try to ask as many questions as possible to get them to use their language skills. With foreigners, I have to become a person, not a teacher. I have to open up and talk, have more of a personal one on one type of interaction with hopes of some type of personal connection with the real me, not the teacher me, the real me, not the censored me. After four years abroad, I have kind of forgotten the uncensored person which makes it hard for me to connect on a personal level with other foreigners. I feel like I am somehow, kind of phony, a shell of a personality. This phony diplomatic representative of Peace Corps knows how to make small talk with Chinese people. The real individual person has been lost and therefore silent around fellow foreigners.
I don't know how to really explain it. Anyone else out there know what I am talking about and maybe can explain it better?
Wednesday, June 23, 2010
Tailor Made Dress
So what is the verdict? Does this dress look Chinese, African, American, or a little bit of both? I feel like it is more American Chinese than African even though in Africa I would get the same style of a dress except a bit longer. The print though just isn't Guinea or Burkina. In America would it look out of place? Have I lost my American sense of fashion? I feel like the pattern is a bit too busy for America.Also, I feel a bit naked. I don't like showing my legs. In Africa, women also did not like showing their legs. In China at least in my city, women don't like showing their shoulders, but showing legs is fine.
Chinese American in China
During my first two days in China, I was lost and voiceless, but I was expected to understand, to talk, to order food like every other Chinese looking person living in China. The pressure drove me further into a hole of hiding. After only one Chinese lesson of reciting a pinyin chart for two hours, I was expected to go out into the streets of Chengdu and order lunch. LUNCH! Food was a simple need to fill my body with nutrients that would rejuvenate and re-energize. It was a simple basic necessity of life, but scavenging for food to fill my rumbling tummy was a task full of my own fear.
Instead of being an independent American, I took the easy way out and followed the foreigners. I fed off the hospitality and patience that their white faces of being outsiders gave them. Instead of being yelled at,instead of being hurried, instead of facing impatient frustrated waiters during the rush hour of lunch trying to feed a billion people, the foreigners were given smiles of sympathy and lots of sign language to indicate cost. Et voila, we were fed. The obvious foreigners and the hospitality of the Chinese people fed me. I didn't have to open my mouth to face the wrath of expectations, expectations that I would be able to understand and fluently speak Chinese just because I looked Chinese. I was an independent American turned into a non-obvious foreigner.
Looking like a Chinese person, I become invisible. I do not have to bear the burden of being stared at every minute of the day or bear the frustrations of being yelled at by complete strangers or obnoxious school children. HALLO! Bye bye! OH KAY! I am instead surrounded by the silence of looking like everyone else. In such a profound silence, I feel peace yet within the quiet, a deep sense of loneliness overwhelms me. I do not belong to this Chinese culture of high heels, flashy feminine fashion, ankle high nylons worn with sandals, of mothers and children, of conformity, traditional values, and harmony. I am an outsider. I walk in a bubble of invisibility and am astonished by the old people in the park doing Tai Chi with swords, old men walking their birds, and fathers holding their daughters over the roots of city trees to pee. In silence, I walk. I observe. I judge. I write about not belonging.
Not only am I alone because I am just another face among the billion, but I am also alone as the Chinese face among a group of foreign faces. I feel the comfort of the familiarity of western culture, the ease of communication, the cultural references, and being among like-minded people, but because of the color of my skin I become a curiosity.
Chinese strangers wonder, “Who is that Chinese person speaking such good English among the foreign guests? Is she their translator?”
Foreign strangers wonder, “Who is that Chinese girl sitting in the group of foreigners? Does she speak English? Maybe we should start speaking Chinese to her first. Maybe we should ignore her because we can't speak Chinese. Maybe we should compliment her on how good her English is.”
It's lonely and often frustrating always correcting everyone's assumptions, always shrugging in confusion because I don't understand, always telling people I don't speak a lot of Chinese, and always being Chinese when I am Chinese American. Instead of asking and finding out who I am, everyone's first assumption is Chinese girl. Why wouldn't it be? I look Chinese. It's isolating being Chinese but not being Chinese.
In America, the instances that I do not feel alone but feel like I belong, are the points in time when my skin color is totally ignored, ignored because we are just good friends enjoying a moment together. However, as a visitor abroad, a visitor in China where everyone looks like me, being able to ignore my black hair and dark skin is near impossible. To have moments in public where my skin is ignored is rare. Maybe everyone else in China is ignoring me, but I cannot ignore my skin, the skin that labels me as Chinese when I can't speak a lot of Chinese. Plus often in those public moments, when my friends are ignoring my skin color, all the strangers around us suddenly start noticing and start to stare.
In Africa, I was correctly assumed to be a visitor, not African. I didn't have to constantly correct people. In China, I am a great unknown with automatic false assumptions being shot at me from every direction. It is strange not belonging anywhere. I'm always in a land of wrong expectations, expectations to speak Chinese, expectations not to speak English, expectations to be Chinese, expectations not to be American. I am in a land of always correcting people. I've given up and just let whatever people think, think it! I am tired, so if you want me to be Chinese, then so be it. I have learned how to be the Chinese person you want me to be and have stopped correcting. I just nod and smile. Yep. Wow, my English is really good. Yep. Sorry you can't understand my Chinese. I must be from a different province. Yep. I'm not really from America. I'm one hundred percent Chinese.
You may be wondering, why does it even matter? Once people get to know you, false assumptions are thrown out the window replaced with fact. Ah, she is Chinese American born in Taiwan adopted by white foreign Americans. Yeah! Why does it matter? In the Tree House English Resource and Community Center I am a teacher, a friend, an advisor, a person to speak English with and a resource to learn about American culture. My skin color doesn't matter anymore. No longer am I incorrectly misnamed but am correctly factually labeled. I become a human being.
In the Tree House, it is true that I feel the most accepted and respected, feel like I belong to a community and don't feel like an outsider. It is a safe haven from false assumptions where the students have made my time in China less lonely. I am no longer an outsider and am more accepted without expectations, but I can't live in the Tree House forever. I have to leave, face the country of false assumptions, and face the invisible silent bubble, but I always know that I can materialize into an actual human being whenever I visit the Tree House. It is a comforting thought to visit a place where I am no longer lonely but actually feel like I belong.
from The Tree House Book by Women Writers
Instead of being an independent American, I took the easy way out and followed the foreigners. I fed off the hospitality and patience that their white faces of being outsiders gave them. Instead of being yelled at,instead of being hurried, instead of facing impatient frustrated waiters during the rush hour of lunch trying to feed a billion people, the foreigners were given smiles of sympathy and lots of sign language to indicate cost. Et voila, we were fed. The obvious foreigners and the hospitality of the Chinese people fed me. I didn't have to open my mouth to face the wrath of expectations, expectations that I would be able to understand and fluently speak Chinese just because I looked Chinese. I was an independent American turned into a non-obvious foreigner.
Looking like a Chinese person, I become invisible. I do not have to bear the burden of being stared at every minute of the day or bear the frustrations of being yelled at by complete strangers or obnoxious school children. HALLO! Bye bye! OH KAY! I am instead surrounded by the silence of looking like everyone else. In such a profound silence, I feel peace yet within the quiet, a deep sense of loneliness overwhelms me. I do not belong to this Chinese culture of high heels, flashy feminine fashion, ankle high nylons worn with sandals, of mothers and children, of conformity, traditional values, and harmony. I am an outsider. I walk in a bubble of invisibility and am astonished by the old people in the park doing Tai Chi with swords, old men walking their birds, and fathers holding their daughters over the roots of city trees to pee. In silence, I walk. I observe. I judge. I write about not belonging.
Not only am I alone because I am just another face among the billion, but I am also alone as the Chinese face among a group of foreign faces. I feel the comfort of the familiarity of western culture, the ease of communication, the cultural references, and being among like-minded people, but because of the color of my skin I become a curiosity.
Chinese strangers wonder, “Who is that Chinese person speaking such good English among the foreign guests? Is she their translator?”
Foreign strangers wonder, “Who is that Chinese girl sitting in the group of foreigners? Does she speak English? Maybe we should start speaking Chinese to her first. Maybe we should ignore her because we can't speak Chinese. Maybe we should compliment her on how good her English is.”
It's lonely and often frustrating always correcting everyone's assumptions, always shrugging in confusion because I don't understand, always telling people I don't speak a lot of Chinese, and always being Chinese when I am Chinese American. Instead of asking and finding out who I am, everyone's first assumption is Chinese girl. Why wouldn't it be? I look Chinese. It's isolating being Chinese but not being Chinese.
In America, the instances that I do not feel alone but feel like I belong, are the points in time when my skin color is totally ignored, ignored because we are just good friends enjoying a moment together. However, as a visitor abroad, a visitor in China where everyone looks like me, being able to ignore my black hair and dark skin is near impossible. To have moments in public where my skin is ignored is rare. Maybe everyone else in China is ignoring me, but I cannot ignore my skin, the skin that labels me as Chinese when I can't speak a lot of Chinese. Plus often in those public moments, when my friends are ignoring my skin color, all the strangers around us suddenly start noticing and start to stare.
In Africa, I was correctly assumed to be a visitor, not African. I didn't have to constantly correct people. In China, I am a great unknown with automatic false assumptions being shot at me from every direction. It is strange not belonging anywhere. I'm always in a land of wrong expectations, expectations to speak Chinese, expectations not to speak English, expectations to be Chinese, expectations not to be American. I am in a land of always correcting people. I've given up and just let whatever people think, think it! I am tired, so if you want me to be Chinese, then so be it. I have learned how to be the Chinese person you want me to be and have stopped correcting. I just nod and smile. Yep. Wow, my English is really good. Yep. Sorry you can't understand my Chinese. I must be from a different province. Yep. I'm not really from America. I'm one hundred percent Chinese.
You may be wondering, why does it even matter? Once people get to know you, false assumptions are thrown out the window replaced with fact. Ah, she is Chinese American born in Taiwan adopted by white foreign Americans. Yeah! Why does it matter? In the Tree House English Resource and Community Center I am a teacher, a friend, an advisor, a person to speak English with and a resource to learn about American culture. My skin color doesn't matter anymore. No longer am I incorrectly misnamed but am correctly factually labeled. I become a human being.
In the Tree House, it is true that I feel the most accepted and respected, feel like I belong to a community and don't feel like an outsider. It is a safe haven from false assumptions where the students have made my time in China less lonely. I am no longer an outsider and am more accepted without expectations, but I can't live in the Tree House forever. I have to leave, face the country of false assumptions, and face the invisible silent bubble, but I always know that I can materialize into an actual human being whenever I visit the Tree House. It is a comforting thought to visit a place where I am no longer lonely but actually feel like I belong.
from The Tree House Book by Women Writers
Morning Work
This morning I woke up and did not want to go on a bike ride, but when I opened my inbox, I decided a bike ride would be healthy.I have never really considered myself an angry personality. I've always been the stereotypical quiet, submissive, voiceless stoic Asian girl who never speaks her mind, rarely with a controversial opinion. Instead when asked for an opinion, I answer with a question. Strong emotions rarely shown, rarely felt, sometimes locked away.
Once while riding down to Portland, a friend asked, "Is there nothing that will make you angry? What if I smoked a cigarette in this car and threw the burning butt out the window which potentially could start a forest fire. Wouldn't that make you angry?" I searched inside and didn't feel any anger towards that scenario.
As I have grown older, had my thoughts challenged, had conflicts with people with different viewpoints, conflicts with people who think they know what is best for me, conflicts with people who tell me what to do and how to do it, I have grown angry. Instead of being the good girl who never creates conflict, I have had to learn to open my mouth and express myself.
The bike ride was good, anger dissipated through sweat and burning muscles; however, I think I will remain silent on this one. Why open a can of worms? There is no point. If I was trying to maintain a friendship or a relationship, then I would say something, but... in this instance there is no point.
Monday, June 21, 2010
What did you worry about?
While in the USA, waiting for my departure to West Africa to arrive, the questions running through my head were as follows:
1. Have I packed the right stuff?
2. How will the next two years change me?
3. Will I be up for the challenges?
While in Africa, waiting for my departure to China to arrive, the questions running through my head were as follows:
1. Will I like living with a fridge, a microwave, a computer, a washing machine?
2. Will the university be disappointed if they get me, a Chinese American rather than a blond American?
While here in China, waiting for my departure back to the states for a one month home leave to arrive, the questions running through my head are as follows:
1. Will I be able to ride a bike everywhere and not drive anywhere?
2. Will I be able to restrain myself from buying a bunch of graphic novels and other specialty novels?
3. Will I spend all of my PC readjustment money on breakfast, steaks, ice cream, ham and cheese, sushi, Indian food, and coffee shops?
If there are any future PC volunteers waiting for their departure to China reading my blog, what are the questions running through your head?
or
If there are any PCVs reading my blog, what kind of questions ran through your head before departure?
1. Have I packed the right stuff?
2. How will the next two years change me?
3. Will I be up for the challenges?
While in Africa, waiting for my departure to China to arrive, the questions running through my head were as follows:
1. Will I like living with a fridge, a microwave, a computer, a washing machine?
2. Will the university be disappointed if they get me, a Chinese American rather than a blond American?
While here in China, waiting for my departure back to the states for a one month home leave to arrive, the questions running through my head are as follows:
1. Will I be able to ride a bike everywhere and not drive anywhere?
2. Will I be able to restrain myself from buying a bunch of graphic novels and other specialty novels?
3. Will I spend all of my PC readjustment money on breakfast, steaks, ice cream, ham and cheese, sushi, Indian food, and coffee shops?
If there are any future PC volunteers waiting for their departure to China reading my blog, what are the questions running through your head?
or
If there are any PCVs reading my blog, what kind of questions ran through your head before departure?
Thursday, June 17, 2010
Sunday, June 06, 2010
Things Lost while Living Abroad
If anyone had the patience to listen, I could spend days writing about all of the benefits and joys that living abroad has blessed me with.
Today though I want to ask, "What has living abroad taken away from me?"
This is not meant to be a negative pessimistic post. Nor is it meant to be an ungrateful post. It is just a reality check. As much as living abroad is an extremely positive, life changing, evolving as a human being, experience there are also things that you lose while living abroad. These losses though, do not keep me from staying another year making it a total of five years in Peace Corps. The benefits and joys are worth my time abroad.
What has living abroad taken?
Living abroad has taken away
1. opportunities that the USA provides like rugby, art, theater, concerts, festivals, poetry slams, coffee shops.
2. the freedom to be me without hiding parts since some parts aren't accepted in the cultures that I am living in.
3. a sense of closeness with family, friends, lovers, relationships who are still in the states.
4. my ability not to be a a wallflower at parties. I have become more afraid of making small talk with western strangers. I had been practicing to be more extroverted while in the states. These days I have turned into an extreme introvert whenever I am around fellow Americans. Back in the states I was really practicing and working on trying to be more extroverted. Here in China, I can't practice because I am rarely around big groups of Americans.
Living abroad has also taken me away from the life path of starting a career, a family, a mortgage, and a retirement fund. Good thing those things aren't a priority for me.
What has living abroad given and taken from you?
Today though I want to ask, "What has living abroad taken away from me?"
This is not meant to be a negative pessimistic post. Nor is it meant to be an ungrateful post. It is just a reality check. As much as living abroad is an extremely positive, life changing, evolving as a human being, experience there are also things that you lose while living abroad. These losses though, do not keep me from staying another year making it a total of five years in Peace Corps. The benefits and joys are worth my time abroad.
What has living abroad taken?
Living abroad has taken away
1. opportunities that the USA provides like rugby, art, theater, concerts, festivals, poetry slams, coffee shops.
2. the freedom to be me without hiding parts since some parts aren't accepted in the cultures that I am living in.
3. a sense of closeness with family, friends, lovers, relationships who are still in the states.
4. my ability not to be a a wallflower at parties. I have become more afraid of making small talk with western strangers. I had been practicing to be more extroverted while in the states. These days I have turned into an extreme introvert whenever I am around fellow Americans. Back in the states I was really practicing and working on trying to be more extroverted. Here in China, I can't practice because I am rarely around big groups of Americans.
Living abroad has also taken me away from the life path of starting a career, a family, a mortgage, and a retirement fund. Good thing those things aren't a priority for me.
What has living abroad given and taken from you?
Tuesday, June 01, 2010
You're not Chinese?
I came to China to learn how Chinese I really am and have learned well I am not really Chinese. I am American.
Everyone, foreigners and locals alike right off the bat assumes that I am Chinese. Even though my fashion is totally not Chinese, but more of a blend of Africa and America, I am labeled Chinese.
I wonder what Japanese and Korean people do when they are automatically assumed to be Chinese. Do they automatically say, "Not Chinese. Japanese. Korean."? Instead of just nodding my head pretending I understand, maybe there would be a lot less confusion if I would just automatically responded with, "Not Chinese. Chinese American." The problem is even if I say Chinese American, there is still an expectation that I speak Chinese because well I am Chinese. In the eyes of the people in my small city, Chinese people no matter where they grew up speak Chinese.
but i am NOT Chinese, I AM AMERICAN. Let's just forget the Chinese part of my label for a little while.
I am American. How so?
1. For the obvious reasons language, mannerisms, cultural knowledge and references.
2. The way I think, analyze, question, solve problems, organize events, is very American. I like schedules, planning, and having answers. I understand people taking sides about their strong opinions and defending their ideas. America is a defensive culture. In China there is an attitude that every coin has two sides. Find the balance of two opinions to create harmony.
3. My attitude towards life is influenced by the privilege I have to choose my own path. In China, the gender roles are strongly set. Men have the responsibility to support both their parents and their own family. Women have the responsibility to get married before 30 and have a child. It is rare to find anyone out of the billions of people who is not on that path.
4. I live with a lack of pressure to conform to the majority and live with the freedom to be me because of the laws that say do not discriminate no matter how diverse this person is (even if realistically it doesn't always happen that way). Because of the influence of Confucianism, China is different.
Even though I am American, I can't ignore the Chinese part of my label because
1. I look Chinese and have Chinese genes.
2. I was born in Taiwan.
The Chinese label is part of my identity, but I am not culturally Chinese at all. I can act the act and be polite in Chinese culture as any good observing foreigner does, but it is an act. I have a Chinese role on a Chinese stage. Hidden behind the make-up and costumes is an American.
Everyone, foreigners and locals alike right off the bat assumes that I am Chinese. Even though my fashion is totally not Chinese, but more of a blend of Africa and America, I am labeled Chinese.
I wonder what Japanese and Korean people do when they are automatically assumed to be Chinese. Do they automatically say, "Not Chinese. Japanese. Korean."? Instead of just nodding my head pretending I understand, maybe there would be a lot less confusion if I would just automatically responded with, "Not Chinese. Chinese American." The problem is even if I say Chinese American, there is still an expectation that I speak Chinese because well I am Chinese. In the eyes of the people in my small city, Chinese people no matter where they grew up speak Chinese.
but i am NOT Chinese, I AM AMERICAN. Let's just forget the Chinese part of my label for a little while.
I am American. How so?
1. For the obvious reasons language, mannerisms, cultural knowledge and references.
2. The way I think, analyze, question, solve problems, organize events, is very American. I like schedules, planning, and having answers. I understand people taking sides about their strong opinions and defending their ideas. America is a defensive culture. In China there is an attitude that every coin has two sides. Find the balance of two opinions to create harmony.
3. My attitude towards life is influenced by the privilege I have to choose my own path. In China, the gender roles are strongly set. Men have the responsibility to support both their parents and their own family. Women have the responsibility to get married before 30 and have a child. It is rare to find anyone out of the billions of people who is not on that path.
4. I live with a lack of pressure to conform to the majority and live with the freedom to be me because of the laws that say do not discriminate no matter how diverse this person is (even if realistically it doesn't always happen that way). Because of the influence of Confucianism, China is different.
Even though I am American, I can't ignore the Chinese part of my label because
1. I look Chinese and have Chinese genes.
2. I was born in Taiwan.
The Chinese label is part of my identity, but I am not culturally Chinese at all. I can act the act and be polite in Chinese culture as any good observing foreigner does, but it is an act. I have a Chinese role on a Chinese stage. Hidden behind the make-up and costumes is an American.
Friday, May 28, 2010
Why do I write so personally?
When trying to understand myself, I usually think about nature versus nurture. After having a few conversations with my cousins, I have added a new factor to what influences personality and values- outside environmental factors like going to a historically black college and university, living in Seattle, living abroad. For some reason, I hadn't ever really considered how important outside environmental factors are. I always assumed family and one's genetics were the strongest influences especially as a child. I also wrongly assumed that our personalities are strongly formed while we are living with our parents. I think for me, who I was as a teenager was strongly influenced by family. Today who I am as an adult is strongly influenced from outside environmental factors.
Maybe you are wondering, why do I write such personal things on my blog?
1. introspection
2. analyze myself
3. correct the image people have of me
Why so publicly and not in private conversations and emails with people?
1. I don't have a therapist who is paid to listen to me
2. I am not strong at expressing myself with my voice. I tend to talk in two sentence stories and turn the conversations back towards the other person by asking questions.
3. Very few friends are interested in emailing. I have found a new email friend which is fantastic! It is rare to find such friends who communicate through long emails.
4. Because I live abroad, I tend not to be able to talk about everything that is running through my head with host country national friends who make up the majority of my friends.
Why not just journal about the things running through your head?
1. I do journal but it doesn't feel the same as knowing that other people are reading my questioning thoughts.
2. I feel by making my thoughts public, I am less alone. Maybe others also relate to what I write or have some insight about the topic.
Maybe you are wondering, why do I write such personal things on my blog?
1. introspection
2. analyze myself
3. correct the image people have of me
Why so publicly and not in private conversations and emails with people?
1. I don't have a therapist who is paid to listen to me
2. I am not strong at expressing myself with my voice. I tend to talk in two sentence stories and turn the conversations back towards the other person by asking questions.
3. Very few friends are interested in emailing. I have found a new email friend which is fantastic! It is rare to find such friends who communicate through long emails.
4. Because I live abroad, I tend not to be able to talk about everything that is running through my head with host country national friends who make up the majority of my friends.
Why not just journal about the things running through your head?
1. I do journal but it doesn't feel the same as knowing that other people are reading my questioning thoughts.
2. I feel by making my thoughts public, I am less alone. Maybe others also relate to what I write or have some insight about the topic.
Thursday, May 27, 2010
Do you stereotype? Are you stereotyped?
In America, as a person of color whose self-identity was strongly connected with a naive high school idea that "I am white," I have had many lessons about how my skin color and physical features make me different. People have certain perceptions about me. People make assumptions and stereotypes about me.
My naive views about diversity were from the point of view of a teenager from white privilege. When talking and thinking about race- Be politically correct. Be color blind. Treat people as equals. Don't be prejudiced. Embrace the diversity of America without dividing it. Don't make stereotypes or assumptions. Ignore color. Clump everyone into the race of humankind.
Then because I physically look Chinese I grew up and realized people are not color blind. We make assumptions and stereotypes. We can say the right things but often internally we are thinking and feeling something quite different. It is hard to treat people as equals. The world divides itself based on race, on culture, on country, on gender, on sexuality, on religion, on class.
I was able to change my teenage white privileged point of view because I was forced to as a person of color, but if I had been a white American I probably would have held onto idealistic teenage views for a long time. What could have pushed me out of my American white majority privileged box?
Diversifying my friends? Reading books? Exposing myself to diverse films, music, and magazines? Talking to people?
Travel. Living in another country and becoming a minority could shake things up. One would realize how natural it is for people to make stereotypes and assumptions about people based on the color of your skin and based on the country you are from. People are not politically correct. People are prejudiced and treat people differently based on skin color.
In China, white Americans are assumed to be energetic, open and religious. They are yelled at in English on the street by strangers and are photographed like super stars by cell phone holding local paparazzi. They are invited to free alcohol and meals. They become a status symbol like owning a fancy expensive car. Skin color starts mattering. One realizes people are not color blind. People are not politically correct. One starts realizing you yourself are not color blind. You also return the stereotypes and assumptions right back to the culture you are living in.
In a country like America where diversity is a norm yet where many of the issues are swept under the rug, maybe more Americans need to travel and feel what it is like to be an American in another country.
Instead of ignoring, trying to be colorblind, and politically correct recognizing and acknowledging differences leads to understanding.
My naive views about diversity were from the point of view of a teenager from white privilege. When talking and thinking about race- Be politically correct. Be color blind. Treat people as equals. Don't be prejudiced. Embrace the diversity of America without dividing it. Don't make stereotypes or assumptions. Ignore color. Clump everyone into the race of humankind.
Then because I physically look Chinese I grew up and realized people are not color blind. We make assumptions and stereotypes. We can say the right things but often internally we are thinking and feeling something quite different. It is hard to treat people as equals. The world divides itself based on race, on culture, on country, on gender, on sexuality, on religion, on class.
I was able to change my teenage white privileged point of view because I was forced to as a person of color, but if I had been a white American I probably would have held onto idealistic teenage views for a long time. What could have pushed me out of my American white majority privileged box?
Diversifying my friends? Reading books? Exposing myself to diverse films, music, and magazines? Talking to people?
Travel. Living in another country and becoming a minority could shake things up. One would realize how natural it is for people to make stereotypes and assumptions about people based on the color of your skin and based on the country you are from. People are not politically correct. People are prejudiced and treat people differently based on skin color.
In China, white Americans are assumed to be energetic, open and religious. They are yelled at in English on the street by strangers and are photographed like super stars by cell phone holding local paparazzi. They are invited to free alcohol and meals. They become a status symbol like owning a fancy expensive car. Skin color starts mattering. One realizes people are not color blind. People are not politically correct. One starts realizing you yourself are not color blind. You also return the stereotypes and assumptions right back to the culture you are living in.
In a country like America where diversity is a norm yet where many of the issues are swept under the rug, maybe more Americans need to travel and feel what it is like to be an American in another country.
Instead of ignoring, trying to be colorblind, and politically correct recognizing and acknowledging differences leads to understanding.
Wednesday, May 26, 2010
Loneliness
I just finished watching director, Jason Reitman's movie Up in the Air about a rootless man who lives most of his life flying from city to city firing people.
I felt a connection to the rootless traveler. I too have lived a life where I am in constant motion, moving from city to city. I just stay a bit longer than the movie character does. Yet we still have the same results- lack of community, lack of home, lack of friends and a sense of distance with family.
Every one's final destination is the same. Is the journey more enjoyable if we find and be with a co-pilot to make the journey less lonely?
The rootless traveler didn't know he was lonely until he met someone. Am I lonely and don't know it because I am living this day to day habit where I am lying to myself about how happy I am? The character in the movie seemed to be.
I really think I am happy, alone, without a house, with very few possessions, traveling from city to city, making new friends here and there, losing friends as I move away, and starting all over again each time I move. I am experiencing life by wandering.
I felt a connection to the rootless traveler. I too have lived a life where I am in constant motion, moving from city to city. I just stay a bit longer than the movie character does. Yet we still have the same results- lack of community, lack of home, lack of friends and a sense of distance with family.
Every one's final destination is the same. Is the journey more enjoyable if we find and be with a co-pilot to make the journey less lonely?
Really?
I am without a co-pilot.
Am I lonely?
I am without a co-pilot.
Am I lonely?
The rootless traveler didn't know he was lonely until he met someone. Am I lonely and don't know it because I am living this day to day habit where I am lying to myself about how happy I am? The character in the movie seemed to be.
I really think I am happy, alone, without a house, with very few possessions, traveling from city to city, making new friends here and there, losing friends as I move away, and starting all over again each time I move. I am experiencing life by wandering.
I am alone.
I am happy.
Monday, May 24, 2010
Knitting Projects
My parents bought me a camera and my recent visitors, my cousin and his fiancee brought the camera with them. It is great! Thank you mom and dad. Thank you aunt, cousin, and cousin to be. I've been away for like 10 years and it doesn't matter. Family still helps you out. It is completely fantastic that even through time and distance family sticks with you.
Now I can take pictures of all the clubs and activities I'm involved in. Plus I can show-off my knitting projects. (All links go to the knitting pattern.)
Now I can take pictures of all the clubs and activities I'm involved in. Plus I can show-off my knitting projects. (All links go to the knitting pattern.)
It took me 2 months of knitting! Using size 2 needles makes for slow progress, but almost every single Chinese woman I see knitting has a project on US size 0-2 needles. When in China do as the Chinese.
Tuesday, May 18, 2010
Self-censoring myself
The creative writing club had its first meeting in October and we have had a total of about 20 sessions. We are getting ready to take some of that writing, edit it and compile it into a book.
During writing club, I write different things than what I would write for this blog. Sometimes I focus on a setting, or conflict, or character development, or a dialogue. Here are some of the titles of short passages I am thinking of submitting to the book.
1. Dreams of a Person who Cries
2. Chinese American in China
3. One Girl Growing Up
Even though I really like the One Girl Growing Up vignette. I am not sure it is appropriate for the book. It feels too raw somehow. In the midst of student stories about going to a net bar, about being afraid of the puppy who is living in the dorm room, about getting a phone call from an old classmate, about friendship, my writing feels too emotional, too open, too exposed and revealing.
Maybe I should just keep it in my writing journal, self-censor myself, and not submit it to the panel of judges who will decide which stories will be in the book.
One Girl Growing Up
DP hates herself and it gets her into a lot of trouble. When she was younger she believed she was a good girl who was always doing what the big G asked her to. She followed His rules and moral principles. Every day she thanked Him for all the wonderful and beautiful gifts He gave her. She even thanked Him when she got her first boyfriend.
It was that first boyfriend though that led her down the path of evil, away from morality into a realm of bad choices made for selfish reasons. No longer did the big G's love satisfy her. Now she only wanted people to love her, so she would do anything and say anything just so a person would love her. She grew fearful of not being loved and the fear turned her self-love into self-hatred.
Once hate took over, all of her troubles began and ever since that first boyfriend she has left a battlefield of wounded souls, a river of pain flowing from her fingertips into each and every person she meets. Bitterness and anger is all that is left. Hate and bad choices have become the norm. She no longer knows what is right and wrong anymore. Instead all of her decisions are made for selfish reasons. She'll do anything to be loved, anything except listen to the real truth. By ignoring the truth, she makes promises so that people will love her, but they are promises that cannot be kept since they are based on lies. So she takes out her knife and stabs the ones she desires, the ones who could love her and stabs them in the back.
During writing club, I write different things than what I would write for this blog. Sometimes I focus on a setting, or conflict, or character development, or a dialogue. Here are some of the titles of short passages I am thinking of submitting to the book.
1. Dreams of a Person who Cries
2. Chinese American in China
3. One Girl Growing Up
Even though I really like the One Girl Growing Up vignette. I am not sure it is appropriate for the book. It feels too raw somehow. In the midst of student stories about going to a net bar, about being afraid of the puppy who is living in the dorm room, about getting a phone call from an old classmate, about friendship, my writing feels too emotional, too open, too exposed and revealing.
Maybe I should just keep it in my writing journal, self-censor myself, and not submit it to the panel of judges who will decide which stories will be in the book.
One Girl Growing Up
DP hates herself and it gets her into a lot of trouble. When she was younger she believed she was a good girl who was always doing what the big G asked her to. She followed His rules and moral principles. Every day she thanked Him for all the wonderful and beautiful gifts He gave her. She even thanked Him when she got her first boyfriend.
It was that first boyfriend though that led her down the path of evil, away from morality into a realm of bad choices made for selfish reasons. No longer did the big G's love satisfy her. Now she only wanted people to love her, so she would do anything and say anything just so a person would love her. She grew fearful of not being loved and the fear turned her self-love into self-hatred.
Once hate took over, all of her troubles began and ever since that first boyfriend she has left a battlefield of wounded souls, a river of pain flowing from her fingertips into each and every person she meets. Bitterness and anger is all that is left. Hate and bad choices have become the norm. She no longer knows what is right and wrong anymore. Instead all of her decisions are made for selfish reasons. She'll do anything to be loved, anything except listen to the real truth. By ignoring the truth, she makes promises so that people will love her, but they are promises that cannot be kept since they are based on lies. So she takes out her knife and stabs the ones she desires, the ones who could love her and stabs them in the back.
Sunday, May 16, 2010
A Blow to my Writing Self-esteem
After tonight's creative writing club meeting, I have realized that I am a writer limited by my lack of vocabulary, lack of creativity, and lack of descriptive detailed images. I write not because I am good at it, but because I want someone to hear me. I just don't want to force anyone to listen. So I vomit my thoughts onto the paper and let you choose if you want to read it or not.
Is writing like drawing? Can it get better with practice and persistence? I have been writing a blog since 2001. I have posted a total of 1066 posts which is probably around a half million words. Unlike my drawing ability, I cannot see any improvement in my writing. How discouraging! What can I do?
Actually now that I think about it I believe the reason that I am feeling a bit blue about my writing is because of the fear of having to choose one of my written passages to put into a book. Having my writing judged feels scary and my self-esteem takes a hit.
Is writing like drawing? Can it get better with practice and persistence? I have been writing a blog since 2001. I have posted a total of 1066 posts which is probably around a half million words. Unlike my drawing ability, I cannot see any improvement in my writing. How discouraging! What can I do?
Actually now that I think about it I believe the reason that I am feeling a bit blue about my writing is because of the fear of having to choose one of my written passages to put into a book. Having my writing judged feels scary and my self-esteem takes a hit.
Why did I go to Africa and China?
I went to Africa to live the simple life, back to the bare necessities of life, to find truths that exist without consumerism, excess, salaries of money.
What truths did I learn?
I learned that I can live a happy life with only the bare necessities: food, water, shelter, air and human companionship.
I learned that the peace of such a lifestyle was amazing. I somehow found the root, the source, the rawness of my own heart, of my own breath, of my own soul.
I learned that without money and without a good health care system, life spans are short. For me personally if I was happy and had peace during a short life span, I would be happy dieing at 40 or 50 instead of living till I was 90. If the life had been wonderful, I would die a happy woman; therefore, I do not feel the need to make a lot of money to prolong my life because of a fear of retirement or bad health.
I went to China to discover who am I?
What parts of me are Chinese?
What parts of me are American?
What parts of my personality are due to nature versus nurture?
Have I discovered who I am?
Not really. It is still confusing because instead of comparing myself to my specific family gene pool, I am comparing myself to a nation of Chinese people.
I definitely know that I am strongly American. I can see the differences between my American self and the Chinese culture.
I am still uncertain about which parts of my personality are due to genetics. Do I sacrifice my personal desires for the harmony of the group, for my friendships and relationships because I am genetically Chinese? Why is my lifestyle philosophy so different than my parents and my brother if I was raised in their family? Why am I not religious when they are? Why didn't nurture influence my life path more?
What truths did I learn?
I learned that I can live a happy life with only the bare necessities: food, water, shelter, air and human companionship.
I learned that the peace of such a lifestyle was amazing. I somehow found the root, the source, the rawness of my own heart, of my own breath, of my own soul.
I learned that without money and without a good health care system, life spans are short. For me personally if I was happy and had peace during a short life span, I would be happy dieing at 40 or 50 instead of living till I was 90. If the life had been wonderful, I would die a happy woman; therefore, I do not feel the need to make a lot of money to prolong my life because of a fear of retirement or bad health.
I went to China to discover who am I?
What parts of me are Chinese?
What parts of me are American?
What parts of my personality are due to nature versus nurture?
Have I discovered who I am?
Not really. It is still confusing because instead of comparing myself to my specific family gene pool, I am comparing myself to a nation of Chinese people.
I definitely know that I am strongly American. I can see the differences between my American self and the Chinese culture.
I am still uncertain about which parts of my personality are due to genetics. Do I sacrifice my personal desires for the harmony of the group, for my friendships and relationships because I am genetically Chinese? Why is my lifestyle philosophy so different than my parents and my brother if I was raised in their family? Why am I not religious when they are? Why didn't nurture influence my life path more?
Saturday, May 15, 2010
To Beginners Learning to Draw
I do not have a natural talent for drawing.
When we were growing up, my brother was always putting pencil to paper, using crayons to decorate self-designed tennis shoes and cars, using pen to create elaborate wars and battles. He was naturally talented. I could draw a rectangle with a triangle roof, a circle for a sun, and stick figures of different heights to represent mom, dad, my brother and me.
In college after a breakup, to fill the empty time I bought a book, Drawing on the Right Side of the Brain by Edwards, and tried to learn how to draw. I started learning how to see angles, shapes, and relationships between lines.
It has been 10 years since my first attempt at learning how to draw.
I have taken up the pen and pencil again and am amazed that I am not back at square one, am amazed that I haven't forgotten everything that I know about drawing. My ability to see and to draw what I see comes to me faster than it did when I was 19. My drawings are no longer just simple line drawings but actually sometimes have some shading. I never understood shading before, but suddenly it has started happening. I still have a lot to learn. I make a lot of mistakes, yet my bag of drawing skills is becoming more full.
Even people who are not naturally talented artists can learn how to draw, how to paint, how to color. So if you are just starting to learn how to draw, don't get discouraged. If you keep practicing, if you keep drawing, your skills will improve.
When we were growing up, my brother was always putting pencil to paper, using crayons to decorate self-designed tennis shoes and cars, using pen to create elaborate wars and battles. He was naturally talented. I could draw a rectangle with a triangle roof, a circle for a sun, and stick figures of different heights to represent mom, dad, my brother and me.
In college after a breakup, to fill the empty time I bought a book, Drawing on the Right Side of the Brain by Edwards, and tried to learn how to draw. I started learning how to see angles, shapes, and relationships between lines.
It has been 10 years since my first attempt at learning how to draw.
I have taken up the pen and pencil again and am amazed that I am not back at square one, am amazed that I haven't forgotten everything that I know about drawing. My ability to see and to draw what I see comes to me faster than it did when I was 19. My drawings are no longer just simple line drawings but actually sometimes have some shading. I never understood shading before, but suddenly it has started happening. I still have a lot to learn. I make a lot of mistakes, yet my bag of drawing skills is becoming more full.
Even people who are not naturally talented artists can learn how to draw, how to paint, how to color. So if you are just starting to learn how to draw, don't get discouraged. If you keep practicing, if you keep drawing, your skills will improve.
Lifetime alone?
In a recent email to a friend, I wrote, "You sound SUPER DUPER passionate about science, NMR, and research. I am passionate about stuff that I have always been passionate about like drawing, knitting, exploring a new culture, human behavior. None of that though will direct my future after I finish with Peace Corps. What am I going to do?"
His reply was "Today I will provide the secret answer to all your troubles! For free! It's simple: just don't ever go back to the US! Hehe! So what do you think?"
Wow. What do I think? I haven't ever really considered living most of life abroad. Staying in Peace Corps for four and soon to be five years has just been an easy way to continue the lifestyle that I am passionate about. Once Peace Corps is finished though, it will be time to make another life decision.
Is it hard to find work in Europe?
A friend is applying for a UN job in Afghanistan.
Should I try to go to the middle east?
Try another Asian country?
Do I really want to stay abroad for a lifetime?
There are definitely big parts of my identity that have been suppressed for the past 4 years living in traditional cultures. Maybe it is time to return to the states where I can live free rather than repressed.
One argument against living abroad for a lifetime is the difficulty of finding a person to have a relationship with. It is much easier to find a partner in America in the bigger cities that are more open to a diverse group of people who don't fit into traditional boxes.
So another question to think about in the debate about living a lifetime abroad is am I willing to live alone for a lifetime?
His reply was "Today I will provide the secret answer to all your troubles! For free! It's simple: just don't ever go back to the US! Hehe! So what do you think?"
Wow. What do I think? I haven't ever really considered living most of life abroad. Staying in Peace Corps for four and soon to be five years has just been an easy way to continue the lifestyle that I am passionate about. Once Peace Corps is finished though, it will be time to make another life decision.
Is it hard to find work in Europe?
A friend is applying for a UN job in Afghanistan.
Should I try to go to the middle east?
Try another Asian country?
Do I really want to stay abroad for a lifetime?
There are definitely big parts of my identity that have been suppressed for the past 4 years living in traditional cultures. Maybe it is time to return to the states where I can live free rather than repressed.
One argument against living abroad for a lifetime is the difficulty of finding a person to have a relationship with. It is much easier to find a partner in America in the bigger cities that are more open to a diverse group of people who don't fit into traditional boxes.
So another question to think about in the debate about living a lifetime abroad is am I willing to live alone for a lifetime?
Thursday, May 13, 2010
My Perfect Happy Life
One of my greatest fears is waking up one morning and realizing that I have somehow walked onto a life path that I was pressured onto because of society's norms, because of responsibility, because of the examples of the good American citizen climbing the career ladder with their white picket fences, mortgaged homes, bank accounts full of money for their children's university degrees and 401Ks for retirement.
In an early Chengdu morning after walking for an hour along the river of fishermen and retired people exercising by the way of sword tai chi I arrived at the downtown shopping mall to a closed doughnut joint that wouldn't open till 9 am. I guess in China, doughnuts are not really a breakfast before work food yet. After spending hours eating doughnuts, drinking coffee, writing, drawing and watching the western pop music of Britney, Madonna, and Christina Aguilera, videos that after living abroad for 4 years seemed extra shocking, I walked back to the PC office along the main drag bombarded by shop after shop, by restaurant after restaurant, a never-ending street of consumerism. I had a whole day to "waste" waiting for a TB test to be checked and waiting for my 9:20 pm train to depart. I sat in the PC office reading books about personality traits defined by genetic coding and personality characteristics defined by learned behavior: What color is your Personality? by Carol Ritberger and Finding Your Own North Star: claiming the life you were meant to live by Martha Beck.
It was a perfect day: walking, observing people, writing, drawing, reading, watching music videos, eating sushi buffet for dinner, experiencing life at a slow pace full of the things I love to do.
Some people say, "Jennifer you are crazy for wanting to stay in Peace Corps for 5 years."
After reading and taking a quiz in the book Finding Your Own North Star, I have realized that I am living the life I am meant to live. I am on my true path, a path guided by my true nature, the joys of the things I love to do, to see, to experience.
Sometimes though I doubt this life I am leading and start worrying about my future, the career I am told that I must have, the money I am told I must make, the security I must save for retirement and poor health.
I haven't figured out how to combine the life I am meant to live with the responsibilities that society warns and pressures me about.
Maybe though I actually don't have to find the balance and if I did find a balance maybe I wouldn't be on the right path, wouldn't be living the life I am meant to live, would actually have to read more self-help books like Finding Your Own North Star from front to back and find a life coach to find my way back to today's life, the one that I am happily living.
In an early Chengdu morning after walking for an hour along the river of fishermen and retired people exercising by the way of sword tai chi I arrived at the downtown shopping mall to a closed doughnut joint that wouldn't open till 9 am. I guess in China, doughnuts are not really a breakfast before work food yet. After spending hours eating doughnuts, drinking coffee, writing, drawing and watching the western pop music of Britney, Madonna, and Christina Aguilera, videos that after living abroad for 4 years seemed extra shocking, I walked back to the PC office along the main drag bombarded by shop after shop, by restaurant after restaurant, a never-ending street of consumerism. I had a whole day to "waste" waiting for a TB test to be checked and waiting for my 9:20 pm train to depart. I sat in the PC office reading books about personality traits defined by genetic coding and personality characteristics defined by learned behavior: What color is your Personality? by Carol Ritberger and Finding Your Own North Star: claiming the life you were meant to live by Martha Beck.
It was a perfect day: walking, observing people, writing, drawing, reading, watching music videos, eating sushi buffet for dinner, experiencing life at a slow pace full of the things I love to do.
Some people say, "Jennifer you are crazy for wanting to stay in Peace Corps for 5 years."
After reading and taking a quiz in the book Finding Your Own North Star, I have realized that I am living the life I am meant to live. I am on my true path, a path guided by my true nature, the joys of the things I love to do, to see, to experience.
Sometimes though I doubt this life I am leading and start worrying about my future, the career I am told that I must have, the money I am told I must make, the security I must save for retirement and poor health.
I haven't figured out how to combine the life I am meant to live with the responsibilities that society warns and pressures me about.
Maybe though I actually don't have to find the balance and if I did find a balance maybe I wouldn't be on the right path, wouldn't be living the life I am meant to live, would actually have to read more self-help books like Finding Your Own North Star from front to back and find a life coach to find my way back to today's life, the one that I am happily living.
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