Falling Water, Falling Rain

"Om Mani Padme Hum" in six languages

In the middle of New York City, in a Japanese restaurant, with a bowl of ramen in front of me, I ask my friend if he can speak Cantonese. The question springs up naturally after hearing a few other diners conversing in the familiar sounds. He expresses his distaste of the language despite having grown up with Cantonese as well. He adds that he does not mean to offend me.

I do not take offence but my gut reaction was to defend the importance of the language. How could I react any differently? To agree with his distaste would be to go against everything Cantonese represents to me -- family, history, and my ancestral roots. But I did not press the conversation. It felt like a sensitive topic. I do not like arguing. So I kept it neutral, wanting to respect his opinions. I repressed my instinct to label his opinion ignorant. I knew I did not have the right.

That conversation took place over three weeks ago. But unbeknownst to me, my heart does not want to let me off the hook. Something feels incomplete. There is more to be said on the subject. I need to  go on record not only to defend the beauty of Cantonese but to express my due respect for how it has shaped my view of the world.

My mother tongue is Taishanese (台山話), a dialect of Yue Chinese. I always thought it was a dialect of Cantonese but according to Wikipedia, it is not but is closely related. In the fourth grade, my best friend at the time made a comment to some white kids that the Chinese I spoke was inferior and different from the Chinese she spoke. She was born in Hong Kong and immigrated to the States when she was less than one years old. I was born in Taishan, a county within Guangdong province. My family immigrated to Portland, Oregon when I was five. 

Looking back, I was probably embarrassed and confused at the same time. My mom was very loud and I always did associate Taishanese with being overbearing and unpleasant to listen to. This was in contrast with my affinity for Hong Kong pop music and TVB dramas of ancient Chinese heroes speaking in Cantonese. Outside of school and homework, my childhood was filled with hours of practicing Chinese characters and learning Cantonese by following Hong Kong pop songs. 

Deep down I began to agree with my friend that Taishanese was inferior to Cantonese. Even now the only Taishanese phrases I remember clearly are "lok shui" which literally means falling water and "hek fan" which means to eat. In Cantonese it would be "lok yu" which means rain and to eat is pronounced "sik fan". 

At the age of nine, I took my friend's comment as truth. She was so proud to be from Hong Kong, a financially booming city in the late 80s and 90s. My parents always made it clear that we left China and Taishan because it was an impoverished place. It didn't seem like a place to be proud of. 

Place and language play a big part in shaping a person's identity. Looking back, I embraced English naturally because it was a language I needed to fit in growing up in Portland. I also embraced Hong Kong Cantonese easily because it was a bridge to an imaginary Chinese world I could connect with. Deep down I wanted to understand what it meant to have Chinese roots. But somehow, along the way, I have conveniently forgotten and swept my Taishan heritage aside. Through these few hours of writing, I see my own ignorance clearly. 

I now have nieces and a nephew ranging from the age of five to twelve. They were all born in the Pacific Northwest. They are all ABCs. And they all prefer speaking English over Cantonese. They all embraced English the moment they started school. Growing up as Americans, they will not learn about Chinese history until possibly high school or most likely not until college. And that would be if they choose to. 

I started writing this wanting to explore my views on Cantonese as a language. But I am now left with a strange appreciation for the complexities of growing up as a Chinese American instead. Will my nieces and nephew grow up to appreciate and respect all the differing histories that came together to shape their lives? Will they understand the trials and tribulations of their grandparents who immigrated to the US not speaking any English at all?

I see these questions playing out as I watch them grow up year after year. It doesn't matter to me what language they embrace and think highly of. I just hope that they will be respectful of all languages and all cultures. And if someday they have a friend who tells them they think a language sounds vulgar or ugly, they will try to understand the history behind those views. 

Falling water or falling rain, we all feel the wetness of heavy clouds. 

Afterglow

"The mind is not a vessel to be filled but a fire to be kindled." -- Plutarch

I close these eyes and there is light. Warm, moist forgotten images floating towards the present. Unsolid. Unreal. Beckoning to be touched. Aching to be manifested. Who are you? What are you? Penetrating strength evaporating into the night. Flesh, bone and blood combine. Like magic I disappeared. Where have I gone? Slumber bellows like a siren. Urging and yearning to be reunited.

Which way? Deeper. Deeper. I hear you calling. Beyond the cool damp sewage. I lay my head down. And dream. A mid summer night's dream. Emptiness. Like an itch. Slow and insistent. Screaming now. Stay with me a while longer. Linger on. Grow roots. Entwine. Take hold and let go. 

Past, Present, Future

With every January 1st that comes and goes, we are bound to be asked about New Year resolutions and reflections of lessons learned. Like waking up from a dream, 2013 started with a shot of reality that forced my eyes to pop wide open. In a span of five days, I experienced an unexpected roller coaster mix of shock, anxiety and gratitude. 

But let me rewind a bit though because this is not about 2013. The story of the coming year has yet to be written so I shall take a step back. I would like to write a summary. A summary of how I will remember the year of 2012. 

All I wanted in 2012 was health. I spent the first half of the year drinking Chinese medicine. It did not provide the results I wanted. The second half was focused on exercising and strengthening the body. Through it all, I was forced to ask myself what I mean by "health". Is health truly health if it stresses me out worrying I'm not exercising enough? 

I sought "health", "happiness", and "balance" like a cat chasing a rat. I ended 2012 with three weeks away from Hong Kong, back to the comforts of home and family. My body, mind and spirit needed healing. Or at least that's what I thought. 

The three weeks included me making my Mom cry during dinner, my Mom making me cry on Christmas night, multiple long games of Monopoly with my nieces and a 30 minute walk through my neighborhood after lunch holding my Mom's hand. 

The moments were endless and I enjoyed every single second and every single tear. The time spent at home felt timeless but it passed by way too quickly. Through it all, I felt as if I was living an eternity in those single moments. 

Like watching a scene in a movie, I laid in bed wide awake as my ten year old niece Mia slept peacefully next to me. Her eight year old sister Nicola was equally sound asleep on the mattress placed next to our bed. They wanted to have a sleepover with me so that is how the three of us ended up crammed into my room on a quiet winter night. 

The same room I'd slept in since I was nine years old. It felt like the same dark, peaceful slumbers of my childhood. But now these slumbers are those of their childhood. I remained awake as I looked at Mia's closed eyes. I felt the warmth of the house as well as the cold outside. 

In that moment, the past, present and future converged in my heart and I felt contentment. I felt happiness. In that moment I saw what life looks like through a loving heart. To know contentment is constant happiness. In that moment, that small, cozy room stood witness to a heart that transformed from loneliness to love.  

Without You

Been running for a long, long time
Thinking it was the only way
Ran so far, began to forget what it was all for.

Thought I needed to hide from the darkness
Believing it was the only way
Hid so deeply, started to get used to the cold.

Finally started to slow it down
Down enough to feel the distance 
Distant enough to hear the silence
Silent enough to need you.

You told me this is the only way.

Didn't want to see
Because it hurts too much 
Because it hurts to let go
Because it hurts missing you.

This is the only way
You keep reminding me.

I can touch the water down my back
The warmth surrounds my skin
I can hear the words cut through me
But I feel your hands move gently.

I stare out the moving window
A world between you and I
The rain exists even now
But I feel safe in your presence. 

Can I rest here for awhile?
I know this moment won't last forever.
Just give me this time to look again.
Let me remember you better this time. 

Will you forgive me?
All the times I pushed you away.
Every blind eye I chose to turn. 
I thought it was the only way. 

Rest here for awhile
This moment won't last forever
Take time to look again
Remember it all better

What is there to forgive
Time pushes everything away
A blind eye sees nothing
Love is the only way

Taste of Freedom

What does the feeling of liberation feel like? Have you ever felt freedom in your body, mind and soul? I am guessing that is how enlightenment would feel like. I think I have had moments of freedom. I am beginning to feel those moments more and more. 

I can guess what freedom is because I have felt the opposite. I have felt fear. I have felt helpless. I have felt weak and insecure. I have felt powerless. There is no freedom when the mind is blinded by suffering. But once you've tasted freedom, your heart will never willingly settle for less. 

Deep down I think all humans know what it feels like to be free. Maybe that's what we're constantly striving for -- a return to freedom. A return to a time where we're not limited to our bodies. A return to a time where we are beyond the physical. 

My friend told me about the play Awakening 賈寶玉. I didn't watch it but the story has been on my mind since she told me about it a few weeks ago. The story is about the main character Jia Bao Yu's death and his chance to relive his life mentally and physically without the ability to change the way it unfolds. I don't know what I would have gotten from the play if I had actually watched it but it makes me ask what would it feel like if I could relive my life up to now without changing anything. 

Would there be a sense of freedom in that? If I could go back to all the times I felt hurt, sad and unloved, knowing I wouldn't be able to change anything, how would I choose to embody those moments? How would I experience moments of happiness and joy? 

I recently read a letter Oprah wrote to her 15-year-old self. What do I want to say to my own 15-year-old self? 

To my blossoming sweetheart at age 15,

You are full of love but you don't know it yet. It will take you many, many, years to truly feel how beautiful and lovely you are. You will feel torn between what others want you to be and a mysterious voice telling you to take the road less traveled. You will feel weak. You will feel guilty. You will feel shame. You will feel lonely. You will feel confused. 

But there will come a time when those feelings will make sense. 

You will be lead astray. You will make decisions you'll regret. You'll look back on times where you chose another's love over your own. Deep down you will know that is not true love. You will question your worth. You will feel betrayal. 

But remember you are not your feelings. Emotions will come and go. People will enter and leave your life. Change is inevitable and growth is a choice. Always choose truth, freedom, kindness, compassion and happiness and you'll be able to face anything that life throws at you. 

Always trust that you have a choice. Every moment is an opportunity to look at life with fresh eyes. Nothing lasts forever and you will grow older. But you will always be a part of me. You are love. You remind me that I never have to look far to remember the first sense of freedom. The first steps towards adulthood. 

I can now see so clearly who you want to be. And I can tell you to just enjoy because you will become who you want to be. 

Love you completely and unconditionally,

Who you want to be and will become

Where Does the Heart Lead?

Rinpoche gave his teaching in English and explained the importance of watching the mind. His translator repeated his words in Chinese as “觀你的心”, which really perplexed me. Why is mind being translated as 心? In everyday Chinese, 心 means heart. Why would the word "mind" be translated as "heart"? Aren't the mind and the heart two different things? Why do I often feel like my heart and my mind point in opposite directions?

That experience was nearly two years ago. Now I understand how the heart and mind are indeed the same and not separate. Emotions and thoughts all originate from the mind and they are interconnected. If I think mean thoughts, corresponding emotions will develop. 

When tears flow from my eyes, the mind is the mastermind and the body's reaction is an external expression of the thoughts and feelings inside. 

Naively, I used to think that emotions and thoughts were completely separate. I thought it was my fate to be at the mercy of my feelings. I cried frequently and easily as a kid. But gradually, I learned to suppress the sadness and instead I began experiencing depression regularly. 


Then throughout my twenties, I slowly began to feel like I was numb inside. I wasn't able to cry or feel as strongly as I used to. Looking back, it was a period of disconnection with my internal self. But the moment I realized I had lost my ability to cry, I knew there was a problem. And that realization has lead me on a path to recover that part of me. 

I think deep down we all know what we truly feel in our hearts. There are lots of noises and distractions which make it hard to hear the calling but if there is the desire to hear, the sound will get stronger. And the more you truly listen and follow the sound, the more confidence the heart will have to speak up. 

Moving to Hong Kong three years ago forced me to constantly ask myself why I've chosen the path that I now follow. I didn't really know the answer in the beginning but the reasons are slowly starting to take shape. I've made a decision a long time ago to follow my heart no matter where it may lead. For the longest time, I've questioned my path because I didn't consciously realize what I was doing. I was running on instinct and gut feelings because I've always inherently felt that to be the right way. 

So where does this heart of mine lead me? It has lead me back to my mind, body, soul and spirit. I no longer feel the need or desire to run or search for something anymore. I am beginning a new stage in my life. A stage where I just want to enjoy each and every moment for what it is. I want to enjoy myself for who I am in each and every moment. I want to watch the sorrows, boredom, rainbows and disappointments of life with awe and appreciation. 

We all come into this world needing love, care and attention. Each of us need to see and be seen for who we truly are inside. But once you know who you are, nothing else really matters that much anymore. It's no longer about what you do or who you love. What matters is how you live and how you love. 

You can't stop the waves but you can learn to surf. ~ Jon Kabat Zinn

Another Year, Another Day

One day Ananda, who had been thinking deeply about things for a while, turned to the Buddha and exclaimed:
"Lord, I've been thinking- spiritual friendship is at least half of the spiritual life!" 

The Buddha replied: "Say not so, Ananda, say not so. Spiritual friendship is the whole of the spiritual life!"
Samyutta Nikaya, Verse 2


Another day at work came to an end. Wai Yee and I made our way to the Wellcome supermarket by her apartment. We picked up some salmon, shrimp and greens before heading back to her place. Wai Yee was going to cook dinner for me tonight. Well not just for me. She has to eat too. So to be correct, she cooked dinner for both of us. 

I sat myself on her sofa while she turned up her cantopop music to a blaring level. She disappeared into her telephone booth-sized kitchen. I searched for Hong Kong gossip magazines to flip through. No luck. The only thing in sight was the "Joy of Wisdom" book I gave her for her birthday last year. 

The stress of the work day began to flow through my body and as natural as the setting sun, my head laid itself down and I curled into a fetus position on the couch. As my mind slowly drifted away, I saw Wai Yee standing over the stove like a dream. It took me back to the childhood times of laying on the couch in front of the television waiting for food to be served. 

I thought of Wai Yee cooking away and I thought to myself "我很幸福”. I am very blessed.  I never once felted that sort of deep gratitude or appreciation throughout the many, many years of meals cooked up by my parents. But that day, a home cooked meal by a friend I'd only gotten to know this past year helped me realize how truly blessed I have been my whole life. 

It's easy to take things for granted. It's easy to forget that nothing is a given. My parents didn't have to work as hard as they did. But they didn't want my brothers and I to live in a small apartment. They wanted to be able to buy a proper house. My Mom didn't have to cook dinner for us so we'd have food ready for us to heat up at night while her and Dad were still at work. People don't have to do anything for us. They do it because of a thing called love. 

There is a scene in the Wong Kar Wai movie "Happy Together" where Tony Leung is fighting a miserable cold and he'd been arguing with his lover, played by Leslie Cheung. Leslie asks Tony to cook dinner and although he obviously doesn't want to, he still forces himself to make the meal. Love is love, in whatever form it takes. 

The dinner took place a week ago. Today is Wai Yee's birthday. My immune system is down, I'm fighting a cold and my shoulders are tight. But none of that really matters. From being no more than barely strangers in 2011 to now being one of my dearest friends, we've grown a bit together. And in a week's time, we will be the same age again. 

You'll always be one step ahead of me. But that's okay because you are one of the few people I trust to continually walk positively ahead. And if that's the case, I'll always be close behind. And if you falter a bit, I'll be the first to remind you what greatness you have inside you. 

Happy birthday Wai Yee. Thank you for all the long talks and all the laughter. Thank you for always giving me your honest opinion and always pushing me to be honest with myself. 

認識了妳我很幸福。認識了妳我更加認識自己。