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| I have discovered that being stuck in traffic for almost three hours each day is not conducive to one's mental health (n-of-1 randomization trial).
I miss my downtown days, when I can roll out of bed and be in class in half an hour. These days, I can roll out of bed and be in class in about 2 hours.
I've whined about this to everyone who is too-nice to tell me to shut up, and threw temper tantrums to those who love me most.
The other day, as I was rushing along the street, once again fuming about how long it took me to drive down to classes, I was jolted out of my self-pitying boohoohoo-ness.
I bypassed a grandpa with a rickety bike, holding onto a small thick cushion. A young girl, his granddaughter, stood beside him on crutches. He was placing the cushion in various locations on the bike. At first, I didn't know what they were doing - then I realized that he was trying to make a seat for his granddaughter to sit on so that they can bike home. It was an impossible task, she had crutches and a cast, how would she balance on the bike? How would this duo navigate the roads of Toronto, filled with other bikers, drivers, walkers all marching to their own oh-so-important agendas?
I slowed down my own frantic pace and turned to take a peek. I saw that the grandpa had successfully attached the cushion to the back of the bike and the girl was perched precariously on it. I witnessed a wobbly start as the girl clung tightly to her grandfather and he lunged forward, pedaling hard trying to get them going while one hand was clamped down on her crutches. But there was a triumphant smile on both their faces and I could only silently cheer them on.
It was a stark contrast to my own privileges. But more than that - it was a reminder to always make the best of any situation, in such a way that makes others around you feel your appreciation of the blessings in life rather than your misery of an inconvenient situation.
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| Readers from many years ago may recall that I had a certain theme to my life, it was called "running- after-the-bus-with-my-short-legs."
That has not occured for the last little while since I've moved to a location where I just need to walk rather than rely on fickle buses. Therefore, I was quite confused when I saw someone zoom by the other day, not really sure why he was running in all his work attire. As he ran past me, I saw him drop something, but before I could tell him, he was gone. I picked up the object and it looked like an important piece of document. I decided that I would be a hero and return it to him, but after a few steps of light jog, I realized that I couldn't see him. That's when I noticed the Bus. Its doors were about to close and it gave that "snort" to indicate that its engine was about to start (those of you who take the TTC will understand). I am not sure what posessed me, but I began to run as fast as I could to the bus. I got on just in time, and told the man that he had dropped something and handed him the package triumphantly. He looked at it and said, "Oh, it's just some flyers. I don't need it."
I stood there, deflated. You mean, I was huffing and puffing and running-after-the-bus-with-my-short-legs (after two years of retiring) for NO reason?! You mean, what I thought was important was really "just garbage"? Ok, so much for wanting to be a caring hero. Nonetheless, I gestured for him to take the package. I had to complete my "mission" after all.
The run brought back memories of running after the bus just as it was pulling away. It brought back memories of the times when I would think mean thoughts about the bus driver who clearly saw my desperate dash and yet refused to delay his/her schedule for one second. Without realizing it, I had moved on to a different phase in life. I was no longer running after something that I felt I couldn't grasp... only to be replaced by running after something that I thought carried great weight, only to find out after I have acheived it, it was all trivial.
When I got off the bus with my (now) wobbly legs, an old man passed by at the same time. I recognized his brown tweed jacket, he was right beside me when the other man dropped his not-so-important package. He glanced at me, and stopped. "There are very few people now who would spend so much effort helping a stranger who isn't visibly in need," he said. I gave a half-smile, unable to express the strange sense of gratitude for his appreciation.
Such is life. Most of the time, you'll never know whether your "mission" is significant or not, but perhaps it is not in achieving the end goal that's the most important thing, it's the people you touch in the process. | | |
| Several weeks ago, I accomplished a great feat by my standards. I biked to the docks for my dragonboat practice through crazy downtown rush hour traffic, 10k each way. If you know me, you would agree this is an accomplishment.
As I weaved and wobbled through the slim cracks between the curb and the cars, I was reminded of the time when I "biked" with my classmates on our annual school trip to one of the islands in HK. Then, I didn't know how to bike...and I was quickly left behind at the start of the trail because no one had thought to look back and realize that I was still stuck. No one questioned my quick answer, "I have a barbie bike at home with sparkly tassels and glow-in-the-dark beads attached to the spokes" - although it really meant that I didn't know how to bike without my training wheels. When everyone was far away, I was still whirling from side to side, almost running down passerbys... falling down and scraping my knees... I was obsessed with catching up, but all I wanted to do was give up my pretense and just sit and wait. Finally, my teacher decided to do a headcount at the halfway point and realized I was missing. He came back to look for me, and asked me sternly why I wasn't following the group. I couldn't. I couldn't tell him I couldn't because I was choked up with tears of frustration and fear. When I finally caught up to the group on the back of a tandem bike, the group resented me for holding everyone up. They asked me why I didn't just sit out this activity or requested a tandem bike from the beginning. They sneered at my lies, all come undone, when all I really wanted was to be part of the group. For the rest of the camping trip, I was shunned.
I finally learned to bike when I came to Canada - and it became one of my favourite activities. But biking down Yonge St. is another story, and I wouldn't have been able to do it without Steve and Michelle. Michelle went ahead and cleared the way, showed me the directions, while Steve blocked up traffic so I had a large margin of safety. I knew I was holding them back, but not only did they never complain, they kept encouraging me.
On our way back, there was a steep hill and after one hour of intense practice plus the bike trip before, I just couldn't make it. Then, Dave and Steve came from behind me and pushed me up as I biked furiously. I got to the top of the hill triumphantly with their help. As we continued along, I thought of a friend who was on the way - who could likely give my bike and I a ride back - so I wanted to stop and call it a day. But I didn't, because my biking buddies encouraged me to keep going.
It's funny - I've tried to be as self-sufficient as possible for most of my life - and rarely have I experienced such encouragement from friends. I've tried my best to ignore the feeling of being like an island - or rather - to embrace it and appreciate the solitude. But a simple bike trip - reminded me that personal connection can be so powerful in motivating someone to reach for and achieve something that they always shied away or perceived as an impossible challenge.
So look around you - who's the friend who might need you to push them up the hill from behind? | | |
| Instead of the dorky clip-ons that I usually get for my prescription glasses, I decided that I would join the trend (or comeback trend) of getting transition glasses (or more officially "photochromatic").
The first time I wore these spiffy new glasses, I was expecting to see the transition the same way I notice the difference between wearing sunglasses and not. This was certainly not the case. I was outside for ten minutes and thinking there's a defect - the glasses aren't changing... then lo and behold, when I took them off to look - the lenses were dark brown already!
The same is true when entering a building... I do not notice when my glasses change from "sunglasses" to clear, but somehow, they're clear.
Well, almost clear. You see my friend, my glasses retain a yellow tinge when indoors. At first it didn't really bother me, since I don't even notice it. But one time I caught my reflection in the mirror and it struck me: I look very haggard and old-fashioned - like people who wore thick yellowed glasses back when the technology for clear glass was not as refined. I thought to myself, wait a second, I thought I was catching UP to a trend - but instead, this is making me look OLD-FASHIONED.
Initially I accepted it as a flaw of the design. But it nagged at me until finally today, I spoke to the optician about it. He told me that the lens were defective and it is NOT supposed to be "yellowish" chronically. So I'm getting a replacement soon :D
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you know the story about frogs being cooked when you raise the temperature of the water so slowly and imperceptibly that they never manage to get away?
Well, that is the story of my transition glasses and I. Some time, some day, among the hustle and bustle of fulfilling my "dreams" (corrupted by society's dictate on what is THE dream) ... my lens slowly darkened, and I didn't even notice it. As I basked in the sun of glory I didn't even realize that I no longer had clear vision. And as I entered the hallowed halls of fame, I didn't even realize that my lens were yellow until I looked at my own reflection and saw - how worn down I was from all the running around to achieve goodness-knows-what; then I saw - how behind I was, how much I've regressed.
Even as I saw this reality... I accepted it. As a flaw of the design. But it nagged at me until today - I spoke with the Optician about it. He told me, no - this is not the way you should see things. And He kindly and gently replaced the lens, inviting me to check the lens often, and return to Him if I noticed the yellowing again.
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| An eight-year-old stood behind me in the line for rock climbing on my cruise. She asks, "Daddy, what if I don't get to to the top?" Her father answers, "Honey, remember what we said, this isn't about getting to the top, it's about enjoying the experience of giving something your very best." The daughter didn't reply, only continued to look hesitantly at the daunting heights. "Besides, I believe you'll reach the top." At that, the daughter smiled confidently.
After my climb, I stood there watching this eight-year-old pull herself up the wall. I saw her slip, lose grip, then continue to scramble upwards. But she didn't get to the top... growing tired, she asked to be let down. Despite her giving up, when she arrived at the bottom, her father said, "you did it! You tried your best and you did it!"
The next day, I saw the daddy and the eight-year-old again. I watched her scramble up the wall again, but this time she rang the bell at the top triumphantly. When she arrived at the bottom, her daddy said, "you did it! You tried your best and you did it!"
Had I only seen this part of the interaction, I would've thought that her father was congratulating her on her success of reaching for the top rather than her efforts. At that moment, I realized how many times in life my parents were there to congratulate my efforts even though I failed. Even when I messed up in front of an audience of 1000 people for a piano competition. Even when I blanked out and couldn't continue my speech in a speech competition.
I remember the day before I left for Angola, I shared with my parents my fear that I will not accomplish anything with my research and that all of the preparation will be for nothing. Daddy said to me very directly, "this trip should not be defined by 'success' or 'failure'. Yes you should try diligently to benefit those around you, yes you should take hold of the opportunities presented to you, but no - never let that overshadow the experience itself."
It was their affirmation of my worth, not my outward accomplishments, that gave me courage to keep striving for different challenges without fear of failure.
Lately, I found myself lacking in that courage to be asked to be let down. I feared what others would think when I gave up half-way because I could not keep going. But finally, I had to let go of the rope. When I landed at the bottom, I had to remind myself - "you did it. you tried your best and you did it."
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