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.