NYE

 There is no denying that 2020 has been a tumultuous year. As I sit here and reflect upon all that has occurred, I can't help but feel a measure of sombre. This year has been a stress test, and in its wake has brought out both the worst and the best in us and our circumstances. I know for many of us, we are still living through the trauma and quite are a few are left feeling a little emptier.  

Many of us have suffered losses and continues to grief in isolation. There are faces and laughter that we will never behold again; goodbyes that were never spoken; and farewells that were not properly conveyed. There were plans that went awry and dream that were unfulfilled. There is an overall lack of closure, no satisfactory conclusion in sight just yet.

It is therefore only natural that we look towards the coming days with trepidation. Yet, while we may want to tread carefully, venturing forward on tip-toes, may we take stock in the fact that we have been placed through the wringer, and that each of us is stronger because of it. If anything, this past year has taught us that we are made of tougher stuff and that despite being whittled down, we have the grit to withstand.

Yes, the toxicity of the situation remains, but now we know of it, more importantly, this pandemic has shown us that the ingenuity of humanity knows no bounds. That, though distant, our world can be brought ever closer by kindness, by solidarity, through creativity and compassion.

While we find ourselves quartered away, our smiles masked, our faces shielded, may our actions continue to speak louder, and may we continue to have the courage to hope beyond measure and to love with abandon.

In closing, I would like to refer once again to the words of Alexander Dumas in the closing of the Count of Monte Cristo,

“There is neither happiness nor misery in the world; there is only the comparison of one state with another, nothing more. He who has felt the deepest grief is best able to experience supreme happiness. We must have felt what it is to die, Morrel, that we may appreciate the enjoyments of life. Live, then, and be happy, beloved children of my heart, and never forget, that until the day God will deign to reveal the future to man, all human wisdom is contained in these two words, 'Wait and Hope.'”

Happy New Year my friends. There are no guarantees in this life. What we can do and must do is to secure hope for one another, to lend a hand where we can, to stand with another and say we will bear witness. That is my hope for all of you.

2020 Christmas Message

 Holidays are hard. This is supposedly the time of the year when people gather, swap stories, and catch up. The cold was meant to draw people to the hearths; yet, this year I fear it highlights for those who are in the cold just how harsh the winters can be.

As much as I love the warm fuzzies of Christmas, the nostalgia, they were fabricated to soften the harshness. Even the Christmas pageant is a commentary on desperation. A family making an arduous journey due to a political decree; rejection from hospitality; a hush-hush birth made known only to the lowly; the need to flee against persecution.

Christmas is a desperate time. And the weariness of it all weighs on you. That weariness builds momentum. I guess ultimately, we do what we can to survive, and believe as hard as we can that salvation is near, that grace awaits in the bleak midwinter

So as joyous as it is for many, equally I believe it is quite alright this season to feel the sadness, to understand that the darkness will be heightened in these times.

But if we understand anything about darkness, is that it makes a light burn brighter. So look for the little lights, pay attention to what glistens, and hold on to that for we have lived through enough winters to know that the story doesn’t end.

This year, I will not be wishing you all a Merry Christmas. Merry just sounds too contrived. Instead, I wish you a comfortable Christmas, I wish you warmth. May you get in touch with the light that shines deep in you, and if you have oil to spare, may you light it in those around you.

 There are supposedly these formulas that can calculate how compatible you are with someone. There are all these data points that can be collected and analyzed, and the percentages calculated for every domain of human interaction conceivable. The pool of possible candidates is then sieved with the use of parameters dictated by such computation so that the ones that stand before you for review are deemed most complement. But after a while, that pool doesn't seem to dwindle, and the confidence value doesn't seem to waver even as you attempt to winnow the crowd swipe after swipe. Then, it becomes like a bad version of Netflix, still making recommendations, but despite scrolling at a pace to instigate optokinetic nystagmus, nothing really catches the eye. Until you realize it is better to just put the screen down, close the computer. Pick up a book [or not], and just go outside and see what there is to be seen, without expectations, without statistics.

What is poetry

 Let me tell you about poetry. Poetry is about taking the mundane, placing it in a different light, spewing some froth and mist upon it, and making it look all special when in reality nothing has changed but your view of it. It is like instead of saying "here is a rock", you say, "here in stony silence it bore witness to millennia of transition. The world around it has changed countlessly; wars and struggles, tears and laughter, sun and rain, glacier to dry desert, still it remains grossly unchanged save perhaps a bit smoother from the constant billowing of the wind and the occasional buffering of rushing water. It is polished from the passage of sand and particles in the air. In its crevices, microscopic perhaps, unseen by the naked eye, lies the secrets and whispers of generations past and pockets the echoes of generations to come. So it sits, at once a granite and a bedrock of our conscience."

It is what it is, and I am what I am.

 "It is just is." One of the hardest truths I have to learn this past year is appreciating the aforementioned phrase and all that it encompasses. I know I tend to assign positive and negative attributes to incidences, but when I step back and allow things to ebb and flow as they will, as they ought, I find myself to be lighter.

When I began to surrender the need to assigning guilt or fault, it helped me to navigate the twists and turns of this life a bit better. Am I always successful in acceptance, to say, "it is just is." No! But it serves as a reminder that not all things are as I want them to be, that greater powers beyond mine are at play at times. So, I surrender to the curlicue whimsy of cosmic timing, and give myself permission to wait things out, and welcome the next thing.

The other side of "it is just is", is "I am what I am," and what I am is fluid, flexible, and pragmatic.

Labour movement is not over

 I have many vivid memories growing up in Sai Ying Poon, an older part of Hong Kong Island. One of those memories is of shopkeeps and their employees sitting down together for meals. I have always found that tradition to be oddly comforting. Even older is the tradition that workers were often guaranteed living quarters and food when they first started. The conditions weren't always ideal, and the labour is hard, but there was an unspoken understanding that one is expected to take care of the employees, in turn, the employees would take care of the rest. I respected that mentality. I don't know how much of that still holds true, and if that tradition still prevail with the gradual extinction of mom and pop shops.  

As for me, I have yet to work at a place where the boss and the employees sit together regularly for meals. Often, the line is drawn between management and frontline staff, and it gets awkward quick for either side to cross that line at lunch or even outside of work. There is a part of me that feels sad about that, and am curious will I ever be able to become a boss that resurrects that tradition.

The fact is with the advent of the industrial revolution and factories becoming the norm, the divide between the realities of employers and their employees grew. Decisions are increasingly being made from corner offices and board rooms, further and further away from the smokestacks. The push for productivity, volume and profits took precedence whilst consideration for the human factor and humane conditions took a backseat. The circumstances grew such that unions and the labour movement became a necessity. Today, we celebrate the fruits of that movement. Better pay, better safety overall. Yet, in my humble opinion, that movement is far from over, for the reality is the disparity remains. It is different, but it is there. This pandemic has shown us that frontline, essential workers remain ever so vulnerable. That corporate greed remains strong and prospering at the expense of keeping their workers safe.

There remains a lot to be done to ensure every one of us is guranteed better paid, better working conditions, better treatment. There remains the need to reduce the divide that separates the reality of frontline staff and management. Until we do, the labour movement is far from over. So rest today, for tomorrow we carry on the mission to ensure equity for future generations to come. Maybe someday, workers and their bosses get to share meals more often.

I miss church

 t feels like it has been forever since I have stepped into a church. I miss it. I miss the fractals of shadows cascading from stain glass windows. I miss the stillness. I miss the goosebumps I get upon hearing the organ playing a hymn I know. I miss hearing voices unified in prayer, in song, in wishing each other peace. I miss the true sense of sanctuary, of being able to let my guard down if only for a little while in a sacred space and time.

It will be some time that I will dare venture back. What I do, where I work, I can't afford to place others at risk. To my brothers and sisters in Christ, continue to spread the good word. May we continue to rejoice, to pray, to sing, to hope, and to love. I look forward to when we can meet at the altar again, to break bread, and to exchange peace.

The unsecured demanding security

 Today we witness the premature death of the "one country two systems" in Hong Kong. In the guise of National Security, so many basic rights and civil liberties can and will be eschewed. Judge, jury, executioner all in one; from the top, no transparency required, the ends justifying any means.

In fact, no longer will there be any need for justification. Dissidents will simply be crushed in the name of security. After all, what poses more threat to a regime than the freedom of thought and expression? To oppose in any manner, to dissent is to be against party and country. If you don't stand with the party, then you are against the nation, and you are a threat to security. It is that simple.

The Hong Konger identity will be no more in perhaps a generation or so because what comes next will be the brainwashing of the young. Ah, Hong Konger, that unique moniker of a people blessed with the best of both worlds - the perfect melting pot of East and West. Alas, no longer. Traditional Chinese and Cantonese will be phased out. A vibrant voice rich in culture silenced.

The west may watch from a distance and deem what happens to HK an internal affair. But my mark my words, China will come for others next, because the truth is what is happening in Hong Kong is a litmus test and one that Western democracies have failed miserably. The silence of the west, especially when affronted with the blatant oathbreaking of The Sino British Joint Declaration has signalled to the CCP that they will not be held accountable. For indeed, who will go after the de facto loan shark of the world?

So, just a couple days shy of 23 years since the handover, and less than half the promised 50 years, Hong Kong has sunk. Oh, will it remain a fascinating city? Possibly, but it will be tainted, its spirit subdued, and all aspects henceforth contrived. #RIPHKSAR

Be a critical consumer of the news

When consuming the news it is important to isolate words that are written to trigger emotions and sensationalize an incident. You see, at the end of the day delivering the news is a business.  Each news organization has a target audience, be it geographical , political, or ideological. It must therefore find a way to continue to cater to them, to get them to bite. So, it is critical to realize what sort of reader are you so that you don’t just buy into one narrative.  Instead, develop your acumen to become a critical consumer of news. Don’t just read one narrative, learn to extract facts from different perspectives, from a myriad of sources, until you can formulate your own understanding.  Never be satisfied, always be curious. Ask yourself am I being triggered to respond in a certain way? Am I being intellectually engaged? Do I have a firm grasp of the narratives and the motives behind?  Until you do that, you will remain a hostage in a conversation hijacked by one or two views. That would be a shame because that is a road to extremism. When you as a consumer becomes consumed. When we are no longer a pluralistic society.  So make it a habit to read the news from as many sources as possible, in different languages, from different sources, local and global. Broaden your scope, expand your perspective so that you will not be so easily swayed. Be ever so hungry for facts.  That’s the way we can move pass where we are now - a nation constantly reacting.

Innocence lost

As children we are taught the ennobling qualities of certain professions. We were asked what we wanted to be when we grow up, and then we were shown role models. We were taught to trust, to know who will keep us safe.

While many of us outgrew our initial choices of professions, the truth is we have been ingrained at an early age what goodness and righteousness look like.

Now, fast-forward to the present where those to whom we entrusted our safety is suddenly turned against us. Do you get the cognitive dissonance, do you understand the disillusionment that comes from having to confront that reality?

Because that is where we are now.  The people out on the streets chanting against police brutality here, Hong Kong, and other places; they are doing it because it is more than just about equality and justice, it is about innocence lost. It is about what do we tell our children moving forward. Who can they trust? How can they be safe? How do we secure a future for them? When we can’t protect them, who can they turn to?

This isn’t a matter of race, gender, or politics. It is about accountability. It is about balance and order. The anguish that is radiating, at the core of it is the acknowledgment of what we held to be sacrosanct has been broken. The unspoken contract of making it a safer world for our young, caring for the needy, and securing a better future- that contract has been breached. That is why this is all so visceral, because it hurts when the last visage of innocence is torn away with such callousness. It hurts because at the core of it we all feel violated.

Give cities a chance

It is certainly surreal to see the cities that I have lived in going up in flames in the midst of chaos. Anyone who knows me knows that I love walking around and getting lost in each of the cities that I have lived in. I love frequenting the local mom-and-pop stores and exploring the different neighbourhoods. 

Chances are if you have ever visited with me, you know I will take you on an intimate tour that makes you forget about the "landmarks" and leaves you with vivid memories of living like a local. 

What is beautiful about cities is there is a strong sense of community, and it doesn't take much to become a familiar face at a local eatery or shop. It doesn't take much to belong. That aspect is something I feel often gets overlooked. There is this narrative that cities are cold and crime-infested; that it is better to move to the suburbs. What is often missed is that each city has communities that are resilient and look out for their own. 

I guess what I am trying to say is, sure, cities get trashed from time to time. Bad apples come through and they wreak havoc. That gets sensationalized through media because people are attracted to disasters and it drives the rating. 

What doesn't get enough press is what happens later. Because if you stay a bit longer, always, afterwards, the community comes together and rebuild. What is often overlooked is in the cities there are honest-to-God folks. who are constantly trying to stay put and make it work - the locals and the people who choose to live there. 

So, yes, the smoke rises and people loot. But that is only half the story. The story of any city though is the storied lives of its people and their quest to give character to the place they call home.

Grief - written following the riots of May 31st

What we are witnessing is grief expressed. Grief that has not been [properly] acknowledged. Grief that has been denied, bottled up, kept in the dark. 

You see, grief is energy, and it needs to be channelled however long it takes, whenever it takes. It can be in the form of crying, wailing, gnashing of teeth. It can be quiet and private. It can be raging. Regardless, grief is messy and it needs to be channelled. Yet, when that expression of grief has been belittled, discarded, or rushed because society is not comfortable with it. Because we want to move on, get on with it, we invalidate grief and the person or peoples experiencing it. 

So, what we are seeing now is grief, grief that has been repressed and contained for so long that the dam is breaking. Grief that has been belittled because the skin tone, gender, religion or creed is not the same as ours. 

We are confronted with it, and it makes us uncomfortable. But it is not about our comfort level, it is about allowing grief to be expressed, because, in the end, grief is one of the strongest emotions that is shared across humanity. 

So, during these times of trouble, I dare you to face it, bear witness to it. Instead of condemning grief expressed in the form of anguish or riots. What we need to learn from this is to acknowledge grief before it gets too pent up. Say, "I see you, I am here to grief with you, and together we will get through it."

Stand With Hong Kong

 I have watched with helplessness at what is unfolding in Hong Kong. Is it unexpected? Alas no. Absolute power, corruption, oppression, suppression and their ilk are nothing new. Their playbook hasn’t changed all that much throughout history; the rise and fall of authoritarian rule follow a certain trajectory. One reads enough history books and the patterns are easily recognizable.

The reality is any ideology, however sincere, can be morphed into something sinister by ideologues. Communism, socialism, capitalism, any theory along the spectrum when given to the right savvy political operatives and their sycophants can be turned against the populace for profit of the few. Likewise, any treaty, constitution, or declaration however elegantly written can be ignored, bypassed or broken.

There is a reason why the rebellion narrative is so attractive - it is painfully relatable to anyone who has an iota of conscience, who understands the insidious nature of human depravity. But more importantly, the narrative serves to inspire hope as it highlights the indomitable aspects of the human spirit. Always in the darkest hours, humanity shines.

There is also an implied understanding that victory is not immediate. Resistance then becomes a matter of outlasting oppression; suffering through suppression until at long last defiance ultimately triumphs. It is the tedious but ennobling task of keeping a candle flickering in the blustering storms.

So, as sadden as I maybe with current events, I do look forward with hope. Liberty, equality, and justice have never come cheap. Though bowed low by circumstances, may we all stand tall someday knowing we are amongst those who are willing to pay the price.

#hongkonger #StandWithHongKong #HongKongProtest

Part of growing up a nomad is realizing there will be places you won't return to or people you will meet again. That doesn't mean, however, that you don't have homes or families spread all over should you are in need of either. 

Therefore, take heart fellow travellers. While it is easy to feel lost in a world ever descending into chaos. Always, there is a hearth waiting, a seat reserved, and a smile meant just for you. If you haven't found those, then it starts with you to make them available for others. 

The world will forever need people to open their hearts, their minds, and their palms. The world needs people who are ever ready to embrace others with all they have got. If you are reading this, then you are one of them.

"No man can serve two masters: for either he. will hate the one, and love the other; or else. he will hold to the one, and despise the other, Ye cannot serve God and mammon." ~ Matthew 6:24

We are living the consequences of elevating inanimated objects above human lives. When corporations, the economy, and buildings are given priority, then humanity is reduced to a series of numbers and acronyms (e.g. FTEs).

From there, it is not a far leap to entertain the notion that there is such a thing as maximum allowable human lives lost as the cost of doing business. That is where we are now. We went from believing that all lives are precious, and all souls must be protected at all cost, to we can't save them all, some must die that others may live - that is an acceptable sacrifice.

Worshipping the inanimated has removed us from the stewardship of the living. When one argues one has the right to congregate in a building, one has the right to support the economy, the unsaid thought is those rights supersedes all humanity.

But for what and whom do we live? How do we justify that? How do we comfort the bereaved who shall never hear, see, smell, or touch a loved one? How do we convince those on the front lines that they are heroes whilst we do little to truly honour and support their sacrifices? Do we give lip-service saying "thank you for being a martyr, now let us get on with our lives, to pursue happiness unfettered?" That just does not compute.

At the core of any society and religion should be the basic premise that we serve one another. Yet, what we are witnessing on a massive scale is the failure to adhere to that very tenet. What we are witnessing is the relegation of souls and lives to ones and zeroes. That is a frightening thought. One cannot serve two masters. Choose wisely for our very souls are at stake.

I wish I did more

 Some days I wish I can do more

I wish I can take away the pain, the fear and the hurt

I wish I can make you smile, heck, I would even settle for a grimace

I know the world can be a dark and scary place at times

I know what it feels like when things fall through

When all that you planned, hoped and desired collapse

I have confronted that bleakness myself many times

And G-d willing, I will go back many a time more

Because each time I come back deeper than before

I know the gradient of darkness

I am well acquainted with the strata of silence

And so will you my friend

Because if someone like me can make it

So will you

But if you are not sure, then sit by me for a while

Let me tell you that it is going to be alright

May be it is not the "right" that you have in mind

But if you trust it, life will do right by you

I believe that, I truly do

So, if you need a friend this night or any night

Know I am here

I will walk with you as far you want me to

And I will stay behind should you need an anchor

But wherever you go

Rest assure you will always have a comrade in arms

 I have a love-hate relationship with bridges. As a child of a civil engineer, I am in constant awe with the science behind building a sturdy reliable bridge. I also like the idea of bridges, what they signify in different cultures - connection, closure etc. As an amateur photographer, bridges make great subjects - the angles, the architect etc.

Yet, I have often found bridges a lonely place to be. In order to bridge places and people, you have to be stuck in the middle. You alone truly know the dangers that lies beneath you. You alone hang in the proverbial limbo. Many walk over you without a care the the world. Few ever stopped to ponder what you have weathered.

Also, despite it being two way, I have been often made to feel as if I am leaving something behind with each bridge that I have crossed. I have been made to wonder if I will ever cross this way again... so far the answer has been more often naught.

I have crossed many bridges in my life, figurative and literal, often on my own. With each one I have often wonder what it would be like to cross it with someone. Someone who appreciates the deep magic of a bridge, someone who doesn't mind stopping at the highest or center most point, or any where along the way for that matter to capture the moment.

Be safe, and say the things

Bear with me, I have often tried to keep things light here. G-d knows the world needs a little levity. My own personal rule on social media has been to try to have a little balance - post something light then post something thoughtful, but not depressing. But if you will, allow me to get a little real.

I... I don't want to become good at writing eulogies. I know the reality is at one point or another, people we love and hold dear will pass on. And I want to do my darnedest to keep their memories alive, to write from my heart and to pay tribute. But the place from which I draw my inspiration, the memories, the sentiments, it takes a lot, as I am sure anyone who is familiar with grief understands intimately. So I beg of you, please be safe and well as best as you can. 

I don't know how or where or when I learned this, but from earlier on I have conditioned myself to grief in private, to cry in my own time. I think I have gotta pretty good at being clinically detached, or maybe I have gotten really good at lying to myself. I can compartmentalize and delay grief like nobody's business, and I have enough gallows humour to come across crass. But the truth is, when it hits, it hits hard. 

My faith allows me to believe it is to a far better place that the dead goes. But that does not lessen in anyway the forlornness that I experienced. I would also be lying if I were to say I am not painfully aware of the fact that it is presumptuous of me to think I am immune to death. I'd like to think I have made peace with it, but until I am there, I don't know. 

I don't know... what I am trying to get at is this, in case I haven't say it or demonstrated it, know that my love for each of you is great. I hope we don't have to wait until it's too late to express how we feel, and I certainly don't want it to be when I am writing a eulogy. 

So... take the time to express your feelings. Egos and pride be damned. Say what your heart tells you to say, however awkward it may become. Love is love, and it is the one thing you should not keep under a bushel. So, here's to each and every one of you who has touched my life and made a difference. May you feel loved as I have strived to love.

Am I good enough?

In my life, I have struggled with being not good enough.
I am not that smart, I suck at maths.
I am not athletic, I don't play sports.
The list goes on and on.

I am used to be being forgotten and overlooked. 
Like animals at a shelter or a pound, 
Waiting eagerly to be fostered or adopted
But days turn into weeks, and weeks turn into months
And still, I remain, wondering if I will ever be good enough.
Try as I may, I am often left feeling maybe I just wasn't good enough. 
Maybe it wasn't meant to be, maybe I don't deserve this or that.
I would keep trying, to go out of my way to be the best that I can be.  
But there remains this doubt, that maybe I am just not good enough. 
Yet, you take that doubt away from me, and what will I become?
Will I remain this caring person who knows what it is like to be not good enough? 
Will I continue to work just as hard to uplift others in their moments of crisis?
Will I connect as deeply?  
Will I remain a champion for the underdogs, the oppressed, the needy, and the sick?
So, today I may still feel like I am not good enough, and maybe I will never feel good enough. But maybe that is a blessing in of itself.
Because there is still enough of me to be good, and maybe that's enough, for now. 
So to those of you out there like me who struggle,
It's ok to be not good enough, just try to be good,
The "enough" part will come.

I did not lose my smile

I did not lose my smile
Through the hardships, the heartbreaks, and the despair,
I did not lose my smile.

Even when the world is upside down,
And there is just cause to wear a frown,
I did not lose my smile.

True, I may have buried it beneath grief before;
I have also used it to build a facade, a wall.
But I did not lose my smile.

I did not lose my smile
For upon it hinges hope
And a firm belief that better days will come.

So I held on to my smile.
It may be tucked away, hidden by a mask.
But I did not lose my smile.

So, if I did not lose my smile,
Don't lose yours,
For I want to see mine reflected in yours.

We are together

When your world is feeling a off-kilter, focus on the little things you can do to make it right.  Be it brewing a cup of tea and inhaling the aroma, or curling up in your favourite chair with a good book.  Sometimes simply washing your face and screaming into the towel helps too.  Try to focus on the little things and savour the moment. 

It's not easy.  What makes all of this social distancing and quarantine difficult is perhaps the lack of physical human contact.  From early on most of us are conditioned to be comforted by the human touch - a pat on the shoulder, a great big hug.  And it sucks not to get that.  But human contact is so much more than physical touch.  It is shared experiences, mutual understanding, and frank communication.  It is crying and laughing together.  It is knowing we are seen, our realities validated and our lives witnessed. 

So, in these times of social distancing, make the effort to reach out.  Be it through e-mail, text, or phone.  Write letters, share stories, swap jokes.  Be goofy, be artistic.  The good news is there is no rubric, we are all figuring this out as we go along.

Faith, Hope, and Love in time of Corona

Follow the advice of scientists and researchers, not because you are afraid, but because you trust them. 

That's faith. 

Wash your hands, not simply to clean them, but to signify that you are ready to touch and feel again. 

That's hope. 

Stay at home, not because you were told to do so, but because you believe you and others deserve to live and see another day. 

That's love. 

Faith, hope, and love all right there in the simplest of acts.

We can do this

There is no sugar coating this, the trajectory of things don't look great. The threats are very real. It is ok to be scared, but don't let it take a life of its own and paralyze you in the form of panic. For there is still much we can do. 

I firmly believe humanity will rise to the occasion. There are signs of it everywhere already. It begins with the simple act of washing one's hands, staying at home, to donating supplies, offering to pick up groceries for those who can't venture out. It radiates in the form of musicians spreading joy through singing, and trainers leading exercise routines on balconies. 

And then there is human ingenuity at its best; those who convert distilleries to churn out hand sanitizers; those who are working steadfastly to find a cure; or creatively finding stop-gaps for shortages. 

We may want to look towards our leaders and elective officials for guidance. But the reality is we have the power all along as a community, and as individuals who actively engage in the society, to make the difference. All it takes is simple courage practiced again and again to fuel the indomitable spirit. 

Yes, the cost is great, there is no doubt about that, but what we will gain in the long run is perhaps the salvation of humanity. What we will perhaps see after all of this is the Renaissance of our times. I have absolute faith that when we confront our darkest hours together with acts of defiance great and small, we will rise again as a whole better for it. So howl back at the raging storm and say to it, "do your worst for here we will make our stand."

#LifeInTheTimeOfCorona
#WeAreAllInThisTogether

We are all here because we are not all there

I wish I can tell you that when you have reached a certain point in life you would have things all figured out. But that's not true, you see, just when you think you have got it, life throws a little something in your way.  If you are lucky, it may deter you a bit. If you are not, then you find yourself at the drawing boards right quick wondering how it all went wrong.

That's the thing they don't teach you in school. In school, there's a rubric to success. You study, you get the grades, you get the accolades,  and you graduate until you can't anymore.  At least, it feels that way.

But in life, life has a slightly different set of rules... well, more like guidelines.  In life, working hard doesn't always equate to success. At least not always in a cause and effect kind of way.  Sometimes, try as you may, life doesn't always work out the way you figured it to. Then, it becomes existential.

I know this doesn't sound comforting, but bear with me, you see, while life does not get necessary easier,  or you eventually having it all figured out, you do get better at handling it, and that in itself is the goal of it - being able to know that come what may, you'll be ok, you will handle it.

That's the message we have missed in school. It was never about the grades, the trophies, or popularity. It was about you finding it in you to struggle with a tough concept. It was about you learning to reach out to teachers, and friends when you needed the help, to recognize what the right people looked like that you needed to build your village in years to come. And yes, chances are you will need to keep rebuilding that village again and again as people come and go, people change, you change. 

It is about learning how to find you in the midst of puberty, hormonal changes, and synaptic realignment.  People kept telling me middle school was hell because it was awkward, and it was a confusing time. But that's because it is built around the myth that adulthood meant stability,  that maturity is attained. 

The truth is we don't stop growing, and those situations we dread in middle school, the toxic personalities,  the tough teachers, the hard classes, the social awkwardness, those are all occurring still, albeit in different shapes and sizes, and different scenarios.  Look carefully though,  look deep, and you will recognize the familiarity of it all.

So... will we ever figure it out? I hope not, because chances are we will be dead. I mean it, life isn't about having it all figured out, and having your stuff out together. No, that is the byproduct.  Life is about getting to know yourself and constantly modifying your abilities to get closer to the real you. The one who is not daunted by circumstances, that refuses be deterred. It is about looking back and not being ashamed of the awkward teenager that you once were, or regret what you have not become.  Life is about trusting yourself to know you can love without reserve, be hurt, be vulnerable,  and still come out the other side just fine. Because at the end of the day, even if you never have your stuff together, even if you don't have it all figured out, intrinsically you are still loved, valued, relatable, and validated. Because at the end of the day, none of us have it all together, none of us have it figured out. But we are in it together, and we put our heads together and will try to figure it out.

In the meantime, loosen up, liven up, but don't worry about living it up to some standards but your own. 

People change and we love them still

People change. We change. We need to accept that, otherwise we hold onto an image and confine it to something which it no longer is. That's how we grow apart from people we love, when we fail to account for their change and be disappointed that they no longer fit in our idea of them, and vice versa.

That's like holding on to a photograph of a much younger you and refusing to ever let another picture be taken of you again. Think of what the world would miss out? Sure, your skin may no longer be as smooth, life and age leave their mark. But that picture of the older you, it would have told a different story - one worth telling and listened. It shows you wiser because you dared to live, to love, to venture out, be bold, be scared, cried, laughed. It's all there, and it is glorious. I guarantee it.

Look, if we can accept that we can love our children as they go through their different stages of life, why not the same with ourselves and with the people around us. They grow, they change, and we embrace that and love them still. Because love is not stagnant but ever evolving. The fun part of love is loving and learning how to love over and over again simply because the love you have had a week ago, yesterday, a second ago is not the exact same as it will be. It shouldn't be because you and the people you love are not the same with each passing moment. The essence is still there, but the person changes, as do you. Love grows and it accepts.