Writing the Introduction

This one is going to be a straight on rant.

Today I spent a good deal of time looking through some of the past things I have done in high school, and the pictures evoked in me a great sense of joy and regret: joy in what has happened, and regret in what has not been happening since. Although there were many (many, many) cringe inducing experience thoughout my particular Junior year in High School, it was one that was fun filled, genuine, and priceless. Sure, the things I wrote and the things I did were less sophisticated, but at least I had a blast doing it. After I decided to pursue academics more vigorously, I found myself turning blue, and slowly becoming less and less vigorous, like growing old off a potion or something. There is nothing wrong with being more intellectual, but for some reason, doing so has made me more timid, more uncertain, less deliberate, less spontaneous, less colorful, less human. There is more calculation involved in the things I do, more planning and weighing out the pros and cons, but much less viscerally satisfying experiences than before. Of course, I understand that this phenomenon isn’t caused by intellectualism, for I know many intelligent people who are very happy being who they are and perfectly capable of having fun and being loose. It’s a personal psychological thing, and my venting it out probably won’t make a darn bit of difference. So I guess to hype up my sense of being and passion in what I do, I will need to take more risks and smile more. Learn to joke around. Do something. Have some fun. Be human again.

Comparing with others have shown me how “off” I am from the life I was looking for, and although comparing will make me miserable, I’m hoping that in feeling a bit of misery, I can learn to change my state. For some reason, I have a strange feeling that I will be replicating my high school in college: have 2 semi-lame years, and then one totally brilliant year, and end with a good year. I don’t know. That is still unwritten. I could still write my book, and include all the awesome details I want to have. I guess this blog entry could be that book’s introduction. Now I just have to keep writing, and see where that takes me.

Insights from Facilitation

Building self

Social interaction happens on multiple levels, and personalizing discussions is one of the most effective ways of beginning to go deep. However, this newfound insight on the need to personalize is eclipsed when the interaction happens on the level of a group, and this is made more complex by the different perspectives of each person in the group itself. On top of this, my own personal “image” and reputation will affect the mood/dynamics of the group as well. The way I carry myself builds the tenets to social interaction: if I am always strict, organized, and professional, likewise, the discussion I attempt will be imbued with a similar light, as the people I communicate with will feel obligated to fulfill such a role because of what they know about me–at least, from their impression of me. Being professional was an effective manner in certain conditions, certain fields, but even with professionalism there needs to be clarity in leadership and assertiveness in action. The conclusion drawn from this is to expect different approaches to social interaction when the disucssion happens on a group level (meaning less personalizing, and more group dynamics), and that I need to build an “image” or reputation of myself in daily life that best allows for “easy going” conversation (AKA be more open and humorous). At the same time, I will need to build an acumen sense for observation so that not only will I be able to personalize even in group situations, I will also be able to make correct decisions and carry myself with confidence to build professionalism (while not being “professional” by being rigid and strict). This is probably what builds true confidence, as I am not avoiding the fray and absorbed in perfecting my own personal actions but engaging the fray to actually build the skills and capacity to be resilient in the social arena. The difference is that the two build different skills, and different situations (personal vs social) require different skills to feel confdiant. Although I can feel confidant in who I am, without the skills to support that initial sense of personal confidence, the confidence will grow tenuous with time. (ie. Without the shooting skills in basketball, you can shoot all you want [because you're confidant], but you still won’t make them and may grown discouraged). Also, the way a person acts in daily situations create the quality of character that is critical to creating trust and communication. Perhaps this is what is to discussed in the book of “Credibility”.

The Naturalness of being

Attempting new things always begins awkwardly–it is almost an unstated tenet to life. Without knowing how to run far, you will gasp for air within running the first two miles. Without knowing how to ski, you will wobble to avoid trees as you slide downhill. Without knowing how to play tennis, you will hit balls destined for the stratosphere. Likewise, without knowing social interaction, you (or me, in this case) will create many awkward cringe inducing social instances thoughout the practice. From reflecting from my context, I can see my own lack of experience in many interactions. Although what I attempt from now and on may be awkward, “machine-like”, or “not-natural”, with practice, it too will become natural. The key is to consistently push myself to consciously practice it, to hone it, shapren it, and make it natural. It is like the Taoist concept: see the mountain as a mountain, see the moutain NOT as a mountain, and then returning once again to seeing the mountain as the moutain.

Being Human

Three days past, and the mind is glad

Initially mad–woefully bad–but now glad, and a bit sad.

Always, the feeling of departure lingers in the air, in the mouth, in the soul

as an uncanny lemon cake,

creamy, tart, and tinged with a sprink of citris.

The spector of regret swims around barely under the surface,

regret about the time the heart failed to don itself in the mail of courage

and arm itself in the steadfast tip of the tongue

to brace the combat that is human conversation

no matter how daunting

as that is where possiblity lies.

Things come together, things split apart–things come around and go around,

mercilessly, unexpectedly.

It is said that love and lost is better than not having loved at all.

Perhaps that is the essence of being human.

In A Washing Machine

Don’t know how to think, because the mind is blank.

Lots of blankness, lots of bleakness, lots of–I don’t know–hairpulling craziness.

Tears sitting on the sill of the eyes, waiting to leak, as the rain is leaking from the sky.

Thoughts, tumbled, stretched, pulled, drained.

It’s Christmas day, but the day is far from cheery.

In fact, it is kind of dreary.

“I’ll help”, I exasperated, “I’ll help the people, but don’t overthink it.”

“That’s enough”, dad replied, “That’s all I ask for.”

Happy dad, happy, happy, happy.

Empty son, empty, empty, empty.

Trudge. Trudge.

A few more days, and then life will return to normal.

A few more weeks, and then life will return to normal.

A few more years, and then life will return to normal.

Is life ever normal?

Or is it always tumbling in a washing machine?

Tumbling, tumbling, in a washing machine?

Surrounded Castle

There’s a book I’m reading in Chinese which translates to the “Surrounded Castle”, or “Castle under Siege”. Basically, the metaphor illustrates the dynamics of a castle under siege: the people within the castle want to get out, while the people outside of the castle want to get in. Likewise, I kind of felt this to also be the case for college and winter break: many who are finishing finals and on the verge of winter vacation can’t wait to “get in”; however, once break settles in and life begins to get routine, many can’t wait to “get out” of the tedium–there is always a sense of this irony, and it seems to climax near the middle of break and begin to run in reverse when winter break is coming to a close (meaning people don’t want break to end as it draws closer to the end). My break is just starting, but I feel already it is slipping by too fast. If winter break is indeed like the situation of the surrounded castle, then I would say I’m currently sitting on the castle walls: I would look left and right, in and out  of the castle on occasion, and as I kick my feet in the cool night, I would watch the two parties on each side trying to get to the other side. And then I would smile and rest my head against the hard castle wall, enjoying the stars in the sky until I am disturbed by the inevitable end of winter break. Then I will brush off my shirt and jump.

Lessons crammed into the Diary of a Wimpy Kid

A lady came over today to volunteer with packing some envelopes today at my house. I didn’t know the lady, and my first reaction after introducing myself was that she was very socially experienced and that I didn’t really want to talk to her. After the initial exposure, I went over to the back room and contemplated two decisions: should I help the lady with the envelope packing, or should I read the “Person of the Year” Time magazine I held in my hand (with the Art Deco Obama portrait)? It was the the prototype scenario to the type of decisions I usually make: being social and chancing the uncertainty of serendipity, or being asocial and creating productivity through self initiative. I have found that the asocial typically trumps the social, but today I decided to help and get to know her better. It was one of the first best decisions I made in a while.

To begin with, she is very social and enjoys talking which was a very helpful plus since there isn’t much else to do but talk when we’re stuffing flyers into an envelope. At 50, she came to the states at about 40 and earned her citizenship within the first year despite the fact that she came without knowing English. She carried with her history and memories that date back to the China embroiled in the cultural revolution, and I learned a lot about her experience under the Mao regime along with her time as she was “sent to be educated” in rural farmlands as a high schooler. She mentioned how many in China were “forward looking” (translating to a pun for “looking towards money”), mainly because of the intense competition resulting from overpopulation. She talked of becoming the manager of a small factory, and how she used her accumulated relationships to buy enough time to study for college entrance exams and get into one of the top colleges in China. This gave her a chance to pursue a high skilled job, which eventually landed her as an entrepreneur of 2 businesses and brought her to the States. She also talked a bit about the “culture” of business in China, about how the absense of laws made business very dependent on the leverage of relationships. Those who learned the rules of the book survived; those who didn’t were heckled to bankrupcy on bogus charges in no-time.

A few things that stood out was the utility of sports. Not only should sports be the daily dose of exercise, it is also crucial in being the lubricant of social interactions. The sport doesn’t necessarily have to be one in which many people participate (the expected “social” element), but that it creates opportunities to be social because it opens different fields of communication along with different contexts of solidarity. For instance, if you know a boss only in the context of the work place, then naturally the only kind of relationship and discourse that happens remains particular to the social dynamics of work–the boss is in power, and you are to follow instructions. However, if you know the boss through a sport, then you not only are able to talk in a different way, if you are good at the sport, then your skill in that area becomes of interest to the boss–an addition that begins to blur the hardlined relationship that was intially (and simply) boss and employee. In other words, if you can play the sport well, then the social capital of athletic talent is transferred to your status as an employee, allowing you to “sidestep” the bulwurk of “boss and employee”, thus allowing the development of a relationship.  All in all, sports not only build mind-body coordination, it also plays an important role in the social arena.

Another thing that was discussed was the importance of stocks. Stocks made her strong, she says, because she not only had to know how to balance her financial budget and predict the trend of stocks, she also had to know how to endure and persist through difficult times when stocks are low. The money loss from bad judgement is the “tuition fee”, and it is critical always to examine why a particular move (like chess) did not go as planned. She explained that one should never make the decision to buy a stock unless one is 100% confident in its rise. The stock can be very cheap, but if one is not certain it will rise, it should not be bought. Likewise, even if a stock is expensive, if the data predict it to rise, then it should be bought–the key lies not in the relative value of the stock, but in its consequence/future. Doing the homework and making sure the data is as good as possible is where the work comes in. As a side gesture, she compares this to argumentation, mentioning that unless she is 100% certain of the evidence that justifies her position, she will not argue. Her engagement in an arguement rests not in the relative importance of matter, but in the possible consequence/future of making this argument.

A ‘formula’-based lesson she pulls from business is the 1/3 rule, which states that a person’s wealth should be split to three: one-third for savings, one-third for the operating budget, and one-third for risk and investments. The reason being that if the 1/3 gamble in stocks were to fail, a person would not go broke; also, if the 1/3 in operating costs weren’t enough, the 1/3 in savings would cover–each 1/3 step along the way is a “safety net” for ensuring the success of the former. Likewise, this is brought to life, and she mentions that she spends her time accordingly. Because she was willing to take risks with at least 1/3 of her time, her investment has paid off and she was able to successfully come to the States. In this regard, all of the strategies applied to stocks can be applied here: enough homework needs to be done to ensure that the risk that is taken in life has a good chance of reaping a good reward, and if the risk taking resulted in failure, “post work” needs to be done to assess and learn from such mistakes.

Of course, with all this investing and business dealing, there are general, overarching lessons to be learned as well. From this, she tells me that “It doesn’t matter whether there is sucess or failure, as long as there is joy in the process or in the moment”. Sounds cliched, but as timeless as any maxim when considering the decisions to be made in life (especially college). Another gem: “Whether or not a person does something is up to the person; whether or not this ’something’ succeeds is up to God”. I like this quote because rather than decide on a completely “self-based” or a completely “fate-based” perspective to life, she merges the two and essentially leaves the debate in lingo, which is where it should belong. There are things that are determined by man, but at the same time there seems to be things determined by fate–the two are not in absolute. She takes this personal philosophy and applies it to life, commenting that “there are good things in a bad person, and bad things in a good person”. As relativist (and inconclusive, uncertain, and non-generalizable) as this seems, it makes the argument more sophisticated in that it asserts that all things must be taken as particulars. Framing a person or a thing as completely good or bad blinds the psyche to see the corresponding opposite (the good in bad or the bad in good), and having the wisdom to perceive on a case by case basis is the more accurate (albeit laborious) approach.

Lastly, the lady told be about the “Diary of a Wimpy Kid”. Because she came to the US without an English background, she had to learn the language ASAP–and learn it she did. She bought herself English audiobooks along with their corresponding books and listened to them over, and over, and over again. She must have listened to the “Diary of a Wimpy Kid” over 100 times, she told me, and she would try to repeat each sound, ruminating over the language as she tries to read the book. As she pulls out her cellphone and plays for me “Chapter 1 of the Diary of a Wimpy Kid”, I knew then she was very serious, and very determined about learning the language. Many times, as I listened to the tape, the lady would interject with the predicted phrases, “gorilla!”, “moron~!”, “let him have it!”. I was thoroughly impressed and at the same time put to shame by how less determined I was compared to her.

Ultimately, I learnd a lot about not only China, but also about her as a person: her views, experiences, and personal philosophy. I was very glad I got to listen to her story, but I was even more happy in making the right decision. From last semester in college, I learned that a lot of times, seredipity turned out to have the more interesting and productive outcomes. I always feared spontaneity for its unpredicatable element: there is a broad spectrum in which things can be either extremely productive or pathetically worthless. The fact that the dial to such an invisible spectrum was not in my control always kept me away, and more often than not I would retreat the the safety of my abode where I can crack open the spine of a book and waste time. I remembered many of the times when I “went rogue” and did something random, and the times I “stuck to my gun” and studied. Overwhelmingly, the positive has been in favor of taking the risk. In fact, I think from now on I will learn to take more of such risks but keept it at 1/3 of my overall time. Sounds like a plan with 100% chance for growth.

The Great Anesthetic of Life

From about 309-365 AD in Jin Dynasty China, renowned calligrapher Wang Xizhi once commented on the fleeting nature of all joy, almost as if experiencing joy is simply a way of stalling the stark reality of recognizing and feeling empty when the joy has passed. My teacher described this as “the gret anesthetic of life”, in which people pursue happiness and do fun things so they don’t experience this terrifying, gripping feeling. I’m feeling a bit of that right now. Usually it takes you by surprise in the morning, when the air is calm and the mood is settled and nothing is there to rustle anything. For me, it is a combination of finishing finals (losing the carrot that is dangled in my face), packing to leave (breaking my status quo), missing friends (gone home for winter break), and solitude (just woke up). I also recently started to get social tried to spend more time with friends, but now with this mood, it almost feels like that was my trying to take some anesthetic to the post-finals melancholy. Now that most friends have gone home, the high is leaving and the pain is coming back, with a vengence.

Learning from Anime

Two summers ago, I was on a tour bus in Taiwan talking a little about my background to a group of peers, and I  remembered commenting that “Anime is a complete waste of time”. At the time, I was coming from the position of a recovering game/anime addict, and having spent my first two years of high school completely immersed in the two activities, I had come to loathe them very much for holding me back from being an “overachiever” in high school.  (I didn’t actually LOATHE game/anime. I loved them still very much but was kind of ticked at not having done more with my life) I announced this position with great passion and conviction: “Anime is trash”, “it saps your mind”, “complete waste”. After I finished my oration, I was later privately led aside by a girl, who also loved Anime very much. “Anime is not a waste of time”, she said to me. “You can learn a lot from it”. I smiled at her remark. “She hasn’t gone through the phase yet”, I thought to myself, and I decided to save us the hassle of debating by brushing the topic off and talking about something else.

It has been about two years past that incident, and today I can finally appreciate her comment. Because finals were over, I decided to fill up on my nostalgia tank and go through some old materials, and coincidentally, I came upon the cartoon  series that once made me a devout anime fan: Naruto. Naruto is an Ninja Anime about the story of an Orphan boy named Naruto and his childhood friend (also an orphan), Sasuke. There are many themes that run through their narrative (such as the dynamics between determination vs. talent), but in the particular episode I watched, I saw the characters in Naruto reflect my own personal development. Coming from a background of lots of involvement in high school, I found the first year of college to be relatively barren and lifeless: I didn’t join clubs, I didn’t try new things, I didn’t champion my old cause (environmentalism)–I didn’t even meet many of the people in my dorm until second semester. Most of my time I dedicated to studying, apprehensive that the standards in college are too high for me to achieve the “A’s” I picked casually in high school. This period of relative seclusion built on the rust that was forming around my initial passion for social involvement, and although I knew deep within that I still had the capacity to act and take on leadership in my life, I no longer lived the role, and “leadership” for the most part remained a fanciful idea.

Second year I decided I couldn’t take it much longer. I wanted to live the life I always wanted, and for the most part, I have demonstrated that I had the capacity to pull good grades and continue to stay involved. But even then,  when I joined clubs and enrolled in leadership development programs, I felt as if a chunk of meat was missing, that my muscles weren’t flexing as they should and that I am still feeling the inertia of my first year as a “dorm potatoe”. I talked with my mentor a few days back about my progress, and from our discussion, I found various nooks and crannies that explained why I was performing sub par. As I watched the Naruto episode, I found that ALL of the things I talked about with my mentor were exhibited in Naruto–all the things that I realized were keys to becoming what I imagined for myself, Naruto was doing. For instance, there is the need for a direction that is based in the conviction of a personally felt cause. Before, when he was young and inance, Naruto’s one and only goal was to be “Hokage”, or the village leader who is the best ninja. This dream was concieved in the need to be recognized and respected, and with this, he was able to go far, but not far enough. Afterwards, his friend Sasuke decided to renounce everything for the sake of vengence on an enemy, and this has led Sasuke down the path of evil. Naruto wanted to rescue his friend Sasuke, but still he wasn’t able because he wasn’t strong enough. After he was defeated and Sasuke, Naruto has never spoken about the ego-based dream of becoming the “Hokage” and focused this intent instead on rescuing his friend–an intent that has brought him to surpass all the difficult challenges he faces and grow exponentially.

Another thing I observed was that the heroism in the characters in Naruto were not merely from “thinking”, but from “acting” on what was thought upon–one is not necessarily better than the other, but the two must be mutually dependent.  In order to defeat an opponent that is stronger in skill, the tactic was not to fight brute force, but to combine the right amount of skill in a particular way to leverage existing talent. In fact, in every single battle in Naruto (and potentially for all other such Anime as well), the fight scenes do not perform fluidly in 40 minutes of flurrious fighting–there is always some fighting, and then some thinking and processing (reflecting on the initial approach and why it didn’t work), and then there is another series of actions that combines thinking with action to deal the devastating blow which collapses a superior opponent. I feel as if my high school years were characterized by acting (producing less effective results but lots of “ACTION!”), while my first year in college is lots of thinking. Now in my second year, I’ve learned to combine the two so that I’m not just thinking or just acting: I need to act, and think, and think-act, and continue. I believe this is the right approach to doing any form of social involvement, and now that I have the technique in mind, I hope that in due time I will also find the deep personal conviction that will drive me to push my limits and overcome challenges like Naruto has.

(On a side note, this process of “think-act” also can be applied to watching Anime. Before, I found anime to be a waste of time because I simply watched it and let it wash over unconsciously as a kind of ego-high . However, if I decide to take control and contruct my own meaning from what I watch, then even watching anime can be a growing experience)

Reading Maus

With little to do after finals, I decided to pick through my shelves and read a few books I bought but were never able to read throughout the semester. I always heard Maus–a graphic novel about the story of a Polish man who survived the Holocaust going through the concentration camps–was a really good comic, one of the few to win a Pulitzer prize. I picked it up at 10 PM, and five hours later, as I set down the book at 3 AM, I felt exhausted and contemplative.

For one thing, I found Art Spiegelman’s decision to portray people as animals to be very intriguing. The Jews were literally “mice” (as portrayed in Nazi Propoganda), the Germans were cats but seemed more to resemble tigers, the Poles who weren’t Jews were pigs, the French were frogs (a very romantic choice), and the Americans were loyal looking puppy dogs. When one character masqerades as another (such as Jew trying to pass as a Pole), they would don a mask of the character’s face (mice wearing a pig’s mask).

What makes this entire amalgam of animals even more interesting is the fact that the story is not told like a straight narrative, but from the perspective of the artist talking with his father. The scenes are so genuine, and the author does not hide his own prejudices, emotions, or reactions towards his father throughout the process. The author was rude to his father, he was nonchalant, he was at times argumentative and impatient. Given the context of the father’s story, we tend to expect the son to have more admiration and gratitude for what the father has gone through, and if not love and admiration, at least some respect. But there is no romanticism in Maus. The author is as straight as candid in reporting his own self as he is reporting the story of his father–both are as real as real can be, and both characters are portrayed as mice in the story. In that regard, the story may seem fictional (all the characters are animals), but the vibe and feel turn out to be more genuine than most novels or books try to achieve.

After reading Maus, I remember thinking to myself as I was walking home: I don’t think I can ever comprehend the terror that is the Holocaust. I hear of it, I learn of it in textbooks, I read it in novels, I see it in pictures–but I don’t think I can ever fully comprehend it. After finishing Maus, I saw my feet shuffling across the pavement at 3 AM in the morning on the street, how real my feet looked, how real the pavement looked. It was cold as heck, I couldn’t feel my face, and the yellow streetlights everywhere just blinked inanely at the street corners, giving the dark an uncanny hue. A cop car turns a corner. I think to myself: this isn’t Nazi Germany, and I am not a jew, so why was I so freaked out when a skateboarder passed me by in the night? Sure, it’s unusual for anyone to want to skate at this ungodly hour, but what if a true sense of danger and death loomed persistently in the air? Real violence? Real blood? Real bodies? Again, I see how real my feet looks as it moves across the street, and I just try to imagine if there were bodies all over, how I would feel if the bodies did not reside in the comforts of my imagination as  “mice people”, but as true people.

I felt a shiver run up my spine, and I know I will never, ever come close to comprehending the terror that is the Holocaust.

Post-Finals Melancholy

Fall semester is officially over for me as of yesterday, and like many, I now don’t know what to do. No quiz to look forward to, no essay looming in the deadline, no class to run to with a crossaint in hand, not even office hours–nothing, nada. It should seem to be a big relief now that finals are over, but the entire process is just so extreme: before the finals, the world is dedicated to study; after the finals, the world is dedicated to nothing in particular. Life kind of jumps from one extreme to another, like blowing a big, red balloon until it is the size of 5 watermelons, and then just slowly letting the air slip away while watching it go limp.

Sure, there should be plenty to do, like catching up on some books, watching some episodes of the Daily show, or maybe even hanging out with friends. But after all the pressure is let out, you just kind of feel limp like the balloon with nothing much in mind. It’s a terrible feeling. And reflecting on it all, it seems that of all the classes I took, my most prominent memories consist of those spontaenous moments when I decide to hang out or do something with friends. Sure, I still remember the materials I learned from class, but those just aren’t substantive enough, especially for the feeling of limpness after finals.

But like most all my ruminations, there is an alternative narrative. Yesterday I was reading a New York Times Op-Ed piece by David Brooks that critiqued Gladwell’s new book, “Outliers”. The book talks about how many highly sucessful people are not really all that talented, but that the circumstances just happened to be in their favor, helping them nurture talent and ability at the appropriate time. Brooks argues that the book blurs the boundaries between self and society, attributing way too much credit to social forces and ignoring personal talent such as those found in Lincoln, Shakespeare, and Twain.

Despite Brooks’s conservative view on the social identity, I do have to give him credit for the way he argued and the new perspective he presented. The “individual will” that he proposed included the most critical element to personal success: the ability to consciously focus attention. He notes that the “Control of attention is the ultimate individual power. People who can do that are not prisoners of the stimuli around them. They can choose from the patterns in the world and lengthen their time horizons.” I found this section of his piece to be very insightful, and although my inclination and capacity to read the NY Times is most likely nurtured from a social construct, I find this particular insight on “control of attention” to be very true in deciding the actions taken towards success. If I am conscious of the social forces that shape me in my environment, then I can, like I am doing now, consciously focus my attention on the material (such as Brooks’s insight) that can help me succeed, regardless of the social background I have had. I can see how this can be taken to be a manifestation of my social nurturing, how my capacity to focus on this passage is due to my cultural context. However, I do feel I have a hand in deciding my destiny. The view that all things are a result of social forces is a bit like the monolithic Behaviorist notions of Psychology back in the 60s, and I don’t think man is quite that malleable yet.

To bring this tangent back into order, the discussion on self attention is the “counter narrative” I was referring to with the post-finals melancholy. Although I was feeling deflated from finals, my ability to consciously shift my attention elsewhere and focus on being productive will determine how I perform in the future. Therefore, although it is important to reflect on the post-final emotions, I should not let that keep me from being focused on the future. There is a plethora of philosophical counters to that conclusion (such as the need to live IN the moment), but I think for now, that option will be the best suited for my plans. Time to ditch the thinking and get to work.