OK, that's it: I am tired. I've been back in the country less than 10 days, and I'm already tired of being here. Tired of being guilt-tripped. Tired of having unreasonable demands being made of me. Tired of having to catch up with everybody else's expectations.
I'm tired of having to feel like I have to join yet another committee, about joining another Board, of being made to feel badly enough to almost change travel plans I had made over one year previously, of not doing 'enough' for one organization, of fishing through old files to give to other professionals, of leading another Bible study, of providing money to people just because they ask for it, of unreasonable demands of my time to do battle with companies that I don't give a shit about, of having to provide my 'expert opinion' on various subjects, of being berated multiple times for even leaving the country in the first place, of being poked fun of (or, as someone else has put it: getting my pony tail yanked on a regular basis by the bully), of never hearing 'thank you' from anybody.
This is pretty much the same sentiment from the recent post, but even more accentuated. This funk better lift soon, otherwise I'm just going to start being nasty and selfish...
Friday, January 30, 2009
Tuesday, January 27, 2009
Hoping my diagnostics heal, not hurt
One thing that I've been semi-wrestling with over the past week has been how to approach people.
That's vague: my main job, in the real world, is to see a person whole, make a diagnosis as to what is hindering them from better health, and suggest therapeutic approaches to improve the situation. This is not necessarily exclusively in the domain of the physical either; certainly emotional, relational, and familial issues are also part and parcel of my job on a regular basis. My training teaches me to look objectively at the holistic situation, and make suggestions. Kind of like an advice columnist, but I get paid more.
However, what happens if you see this in a friend, not a patient? It is far easier for me to look at a patient, who, for all intents and purposes, I don't know and I don't love, and say quite objectively what I believe the fundamental problems to be in their lives. Not so easy when it is someone you know and someone you love. I have noticed some massively large obstacles that are hindering a friend from really and truly fulfilling their entire God-given potential, and it hurts me to see that. It bothers me greatly when giants of our age can so easily be felled by a stone to the forehead. However, some of those obstacles are building barriers from me being able to point this out in any way that would be constructive.
So how does one do this, without making them hate you afterwards? I haven't been able to figure this out. Is it worse to ignore the fact that your friend's fly is down, or for embarrassing them by telling them they need to fix their pants? Sigh. I'm hoping they read this (though I doubt they will) in order to perhaps start opening the communication channels...
That's vague: my main job, in the real world, is to see a person whole, make a diagnosis as to what is hindering them from better health, and suggest therapeutic approaches to improve the situation. This is not necessarily exclusively in the domain of the physical either; certainly emotional, relational, and familial issues are also part and parcel of my job on a regular basis. My training teaches me to look objectively at the holistic situation, and make suggestions. Kind of like an advice columnist, but I get paid more.
However, what happens if you see this in a friend, not a patient? It is far easier for me to look at a patient, who, for all intents and purposes, I don't know and I don't love, and say quite objectively what I believe the fundamental problems to be in their lives. Not so easy when it is someone you know and someone you love. I have noticed some massively large obstacles that are hindering a friend from really and truly fulfilling their entire God-given potential, and it hurts me to see that. It bothers me greatly when giants of our age can so easily be felled by a stone to the forehead. However, some of those obstacles are building barriers from me being able to point this out in any way that would be constructive.
So how does one do this, without making them hate you afterwards? I haven't been able to figure this out. Is it worse to ignore the fact that your friend's fly is down, or for embarrassing them by telling them they need to fix their pants? Sigh. I'm hoping they read this (though I doubt they will) in order to perhaps start opening the communication channels...
Thursday, January 22, 2009
Retreat! To yonder castle!
One of the biggest problems of going away anywhere is the coming back. Not only do I feel like I was just getting a groove on, a rhythm of living in the fairy tale castle, lured by the possibilities of just staying (I can't believe how tempting it actually was), but then I abruptly had to leave. That sucks.
However, what has an even higher suckage factor was coming back. I walk into my house with a mail stack about to topple over, full of bills, notices, assessments, medical journals, government forms, etc etc etc, and neglected chores that I'd forgotten to do prior to leaving (no worries; nothing like forgetting to take out the garbage). Then, at the office was an inbox stuffed full of insurance forms, disability claims, pregnancy ultrasounds... a pile a foot high! Furthermore, having to deal with several email inboxes (along with one new one!), meetings that are being planned for the end of February and into March, realizing I already do not have a free weekend for another four weeks is enough to make one give up being a responsible adult.
That's it. I don't want to be a grown-up anymore. At times like this, I really do want to opt out, have someone take over and do all these tasks for me, to tuck me into bed, kiss me on the forehead and just tell me everything will be alright...
However, what has an even higher suckage factor was coming back. I walk into my house with a mail stack about to topple over, full of bills, notices, assessments, medical journals, government forms, etc etc etc, and neglected chores that I'd forgotten to do prior to leaving (no worries; nothing like forgetting to take out the garbage). Then, at the office was an inbox stuffed full of insurance forms, disability claims, pregnancy ultrasounds... a pile a foot high! Furthermore, having to deal with several email inboxes (along with one new one!), meetings that are being planned for the end of February and into March, realizing I already do not have a free weekend for another four weeks is enough to make one give up being a responsible adult.
That's it. I don't want to be a grown-up anymore. At times like this, I really do want to opt out, have someone take over and do all these tasks for me, to tuck me into bed, kiss me on the forehead and just tell me everything will be alright...
Thursday, January 15, 2009
England III
I'm sorry that I haven't written all that much, but there really hasn't been much more to say about what I've been up to. To say that I feel a bit like Rapunzel is a bit of an understatement.
One thing, that I'm not sure if I've ever noted about the British before is just their incredible reservedness. Since I've been here, I have yet had a British national introduce themselves to me, or talk to me at all, which is odd, since we have communal meals together. Apparently, it is not really in their culture to introduce themselves to strangers, and they won't talk to someone they haven't actually been formally introduced to. This, of course, has been difficult, as I haven't actually officially met any British people yet, so it is difficult for me to be introduced to anyone else. It's like this awful Catch-22 where you can't meet anyone because you haven't met anyone.
That being said, the most obvious cultures that have embraced me and made me feel welcome here are the Americans, the Koreans and the Brazilians (and combinations thereof). Not surpringly that they are all here, in light of the powerhouses they all are for Good News and Kingdom work, but also not surprising in how garrulous their cultures are, and how open and welcoming that they all are as peoples.
I suppose this is a good place to interject that there are strengths and weaknesses in each culture, and so to paint the picture thusly is not necessarily utterly fair. However, all I can say is praise God for cultures that like people a lot, otherwise I'd have an awful lot of wandering the halls here, wondering what the hell to do with myself...
One thing, that I'm not sure if I've ever noted about the British before is just their incredible reservedness. Since I've been here, I have yet had a British national introduce themselves to me, or talk to me at all, which is odd, since we have communal meals together. Apparently, it is not really in their culture to introduce themselves to strangers, and they won't talk to someone they haven't actually been formally introduced to. This, of course, has been difficult, as I haven't actually officially met any British people yet, so it is difficult for me to be introduced to anyone else. It's like this awful Catch-22 where you can't meet anyone because you haven't met anyone.
That being said, the most obvious cultures that have embraced me and made me feel welcome here are the Americans, the Koreans and the Brazilians (and combinations thereof). Not surpringly that they are all here, in light of the powerhouses they all are for Good News and Kingdom work, but also not surprising in how garrulous their cultures are, and how open and welcoming that they all are as peoples.
I suppose this is a good place to interject that there are strengths and weaknesses in each culture, and so to paint the picture thusly is not necessarily utterly fair. However, all I can say is praise God for cultures that like people a lot, otherwise I'd have an awful lot of wandering the halls here, wondering what the hell to do with myself...
Sunday, January 11, 2009
I'm a banana with... lemon filling???
I believe not since I entered undergrad have I noticed how fundamentally Asian I am, at the core, at the very ends of things.
It is a bit odd that here, in the most lily-white fair of locales, people notice my yellow core. Oddly, however, it was pointed out to me today that my yellow-ness is actually not Korean in nature (gasp!) but Chinese (bigger gasp!).
Now, for some of you, you know that almost verges on blasphemy. However, I do see what they're talking about. I know, I know, some would say that I have about as much Chinese-ness in me as blood in a stone.
It is strange, traveling all around the world, and gaining a deeper appreciation of what it means to be Canadian, but here, in one of the closest cultural parity countries to my own, I am stymied with being Korean on the outside, Caucasian inside, but with a deep East Asian core, molten gold, hot as dragon's breath, unyielding as jadestone.
It is a bit odd that here, in the most lily-white fair of locales, people notice my yellow core. Oddly, however, it was pointed out to me today that my yellow-ness is actually not Korean in nature (gasp!) but Chinese (bigger gasp!).
Now, for some of you, you know that almost verges on blasphemy. However, I do see what they're talking about. I know, I know, some would say that I have about as much Chinese-ness in me as blood in a stone.
It is strange, traveling all around the world, and gaining a deeper appreciation of what it means to be Canadian, but here, in one of the closest cultural parity countries to my own, I am stymied with being Korean on the outside, Caucasian inside, but with a deep East Asian core, molten gold, hot as dragon's breath, unyielding as jadestone.
Thursday, January 08, 2009
England II
In the construction of the Book, a whole whack of work needs to go into it, I've realized. There are stats to obtain, compile and analyze. There are socio-political situations that need to be observed from several different angles to have a better sense as to where the 'real' story lies. There are the myriads of stories from workers abroad needing to be sifted from what are warm, fuzzy anecdotes to what gives a real sense as to what's happening nationally. After all of this, then one can start writing and editing their piece, after which input from people all over the world is required, formatting of pages and ruthlessly editing so that eventually everything will fit into a book you can actually carry without breaking your back. Not an easy job when you've got a bare-bones volunteer corps to do the work, and then you also get occasional numbskulls like me showing up.
It's been quite interesting to do some reading and learning a little bit more of what's going on on this planet of ours, but mainly I've been doing scut work to make the important work easier later on. This runs the gamut of data entry, filing stories and labelling articles to make it easier to find information later.
I suppose what strikes me most is the nature of office work. Never having worked in an office before, there are a few things about this method of working that are odd to me. Firstly, it makes your bum sore, having to sit down at a computer for pretty much the whole day. I'm used to being up and down and walking around every few minutes. Also, since I spend my days talking to, or at, people, the relative quiet and 'humming along productivity' of an office is strange to me. I can also not get over how doing some of these tasks really do take me all day, and into the night. The last thing that is also the strangest to me, besides the quiet, is the lack of touch. This may seem weird, as I suppose office workers would otherwise have massive sexual harassment suits on their hands, but we all know that regular human touch actually improves stress levels, blood pressures, etc. Of course, I'm usually spending a good chunk of my time 'laying hands' on everyone, so I do feel out of sync not doing so here. I've discovered, though, that I'm not particularly bothered by not being in charge or in control; having a boss, and several managers is actually OK, which is good, as I thought perhaps my control-freak nature would have issues.
However, it is good. I'm not entirely sure how useful I really am being to the team (that would be something for my boss to evaluate, I suppose), but otherwise, at least, this is a strange, though pleasant, change from my usual routine.
It's been quite interesting to do some reading and learning a little bit more of what's going on on this planet of ours, but mainly I've been doing scut work to make the important work easier later on. This runs the gamut of data entry, filing stories and labelling articles to make it easier to find information later.
I suppose what strikes me most is the nature of office work. Never having worked in an office before, there are a few things about this method of working that are odd to me. Firstly, it makes your bum sore, having to sit down at a computer for pretty much the whole day. I'm used to being up and down and walking around every few minutes. Also, since I spend my days talking to, or at, people, the relative quiet and 'humming along productivity' of an office is strange to me. I can also not get over how doing some of these tasks really do take me all day, and into the night. The last thing that is also the strangest to me, besides the quiet, is the lack of touch. This may seem weird, as I suppose office workers would otherwise have massive sexual harassment suits on their hands, but we all know that regular human touch actually improves stress levels, blood pressures, etc. Of course, I'm usually spending a good chunk of my time 'laying hands' on everyone, so I do feel out of sync not doing so here. I've discovered, though, that I'm not particularly bothered by not being in charge or in control; having a boss, and several managers is actually OK, which is good, as I thought perhaps my control-freak nature would have issues.
However, it is good. I'm not entirely sure how useful I really am being to the team (that would be something for my boss to evaluate, I suppose), but otherwise, at least, this is a strange, though pleasant, change from my usual routine.
Monday, January 05, 2009
England I
So, I haven't exactly written too much yet, mainly because there's not yet much to be said. Having gone through a national holiday and a weekend, I haven't exactly done gobs of work yet. Actually, I've been feeling rather slothful up to this point.
One thing that I've noted about the Brits in general, however, is their unbelief in indoor heating. Partly it's historical; winters are fairly mild here, so the massive amounts of insulation that we put into our homes in Canada doesn't quite compute the same way here, as it is less necessary. I haven't yet actually successfully felt warm since I've arrived in this country, and, to add insult to injury, it started snowing today.
That's probably about it: I've already spent a bit of time in London proper, and realized that I actually knew the downtown core much better than even my British friend did. I think I wasn't kidding when I said I've been to London several times enough to be satisfied as a 'tourist'...
One thing that I've noted about the Brits in general, however, is their unbelief in indoor heating. Partly it's historical; winters are fairly mild here, so the massive amounts of insulation that we put into our homes in Canada doesn't quite compute the same way here, as it is less necessary. I haven't yet actually successfully felt warm since I've arrived in this country, and, to add insult to injury, it started snowing today.
That's probably about it: I've already spent a bit of time in London proper, and realized that I actually knew the downtown core much better than even my British friend did. I think I wasn't kidding when I said I've been to London several times enough to be satisfied as a 'tourist'...
Thursday, January 01, 2009
An anti-New Year's resolution
Now that 2008 is over, my self-imposed clothing fast is over. That is to say, I am now allowed to go and buy clothing of all kinds again, from socks to cardigans. Now, the fact of being abroad isn't going to change that status anytime soon, and besides, I'm not the type to be chomping at the bit to get to the mall. Furthermore, I haven't really missed shopping much anyways, since I'm kind of the antithesis to a clothing horse.
You'd think that a girl, living in North America, giving up her ability to buy any new clothing for a year would be something that would be broadcast on television, or at least broker a book deal or something, about how she endured such trials and what she learned. What I suppose I did learn: I don't really need new clothes, not unless the old ones are unmendable, or unwearable. Not having to go clothing shopping saves a lot of time. There are many other ways to bond with your girlfriends than spending a day at the mall. You can stay unfashionable long enough to become fashionable again. Beauty that depends on how I'm dressed is a pretty shallow beauty, and I desire to cultivate a deeper beauty than that. I acknowledge that clothes do indeed make the man, and as a society, we do judge people's worth and merit based on how they look, perhaps a little bit too much, however, well-dressed people really do look well put-together (yes, yes, though it's still shallow). Like any addiction, once you break it, and are used to the new lifestyle, it's not that hard to stay clean. (OK, so I didn't have an addiction, but I certainly find I'm not even tempted by 70% off really cute shirts anymore).
I think that I will replace some of my socks that have gotten a bit hole-y over the year, but I am not entirely convinced there's anything else that needs space in my closet as of yet. I'm still not going to volunteer to go for a day of mall-shopping either.
So, for 2009, I resolve to let myself go shopping. Shrug. No biggie.
You'd think that a girl, living in North America, giving up her ability to buy any new clothing for a year would be something that would be broadcast on television, or at least broker a book deal or something, about how she endured such trials and what she learned. What I suppose I did learn: I don't really need new clothes, not unless the old ones are unmendable, or unwearable. Not having to go clothing shopping saves a lot of time. There are many other ways to bond with your girlfriends than spending a day at the mall. You can stay unfashionable long enough to become fashionable again. Beauty that depends on how I'm dressed is a pretty shallow beauty, and I desire to cultivate a deeper beauty than that. I acknowledge that clothes do indeed make the man, and as a society, we do judge people's worth and merit based on how they look, perhaps a little bit too much, however, well-dressed people really do look well put-together (yes, yes, though it's still shallow). Like any addiction, once you break it, and are used to the new lifestyle, it's not that hard to stay clean. (OK, so I didn't have an addiction, but I certainly find I'm not even tempted by 70% off really cute shirts anymore).
I think that I will replace some of my socks that have gotten a bit hole-y over the year, but I am not entirely convinced there's anything else that needs space in my closet as of yet. I'm still not going to volunteer to go for a day of mall-shopping either.
So, for 2009, I resolve to let myself go shopping. Shrug. No biggie.
Friday, December 26, 2008
Boxing Day madness
In an ironic twist of events, a family member ended up in hospital today. I don't have any large metaphysical questions as to whether God is capable of punishing us in return for wrongs we have done, or other such related questions. However, seeing as it came rather quickly on the heels of everything else that has recently transpired, one would understandably wonder.
Now, I have only once experienced the patient side of the emergency room previously, but this was crazy! Sure, there were people who clearly did not look well, but there were also clearly people who were lining up who, from eyeballing them clinically, sure didn't look in need of emergency services. Some sure looked like they would have been better suited being in a mall somewhere and shopping.
Myself, having had to work today, mainly saw a whole whack of colds, though almost everyone made it seem like their sniffles were the worst thing to ever inflict a human being ever. I am quite sure I did my bit to make sure the emergency departments weren't overrun by useless consults, but I still question people's judgement. The one, sincerely sick teen that I did see was so ill, I was surprised he was even able to make it across the parking lot, but the mother didn't want to bring him in any earlier, as it was Christmas Day, and then today, he was forced to go to church first before he could go see a doctor. Bah.
Now, I have only once experienced the patient side of the emergency room previously, but this was crazy! Sure, there were people who clearly did not look well, but there were also clearly people who were lining up who, from eyeballing them clinically, sure didn't look in need of emergency services. Some sure looked like they would have been better suited being in a mall somewhere and shopping.
Myself, having had to work today, mainly saw a whole whack of colds, though almost everyone made it seem like their sniffles were the worst thing to ever inflict a human being ever. I am quite sure I did my bit to make sure the emergency departments weren't overrun by useless consults, but I still question people's judgement. The one, sincerely sick teen that I did see was so ill, I was surprised he was even able to make it across the parking lot, but the mother didn't want to bring him in any earlier, as it was Christmas Day, and then today, he was forced to go to church first before he could go see a doctor. Bah.
Thursday, December 25, 2008
Peace on earth, goodwill towards men
This actually is not a pithy treatise about the beauty and glory of Christmas (I am so sorry, Jesus, that we have a) created this made-up holiday to celebrate Your birthday, even though You never told us to, and b) that we have made it to be this holiday of getting together and presents and 'family time', rather than about You anyways).
This year, I can understand why some people think Christmas is actually one of the most loneliest and painful times of year. For, you see, there was a big family row today ('cause hell, if you're going to have a family row, the best time to do it would stereotypically be Christmas Day, the day when tradition and media dictate that you must get along with everyone in order to have the most Norman Rockwellian day ever). I thought to myself, I've had enough of these nuts and fruitcakes, I'm going home. Had myself a long hard run, made a cup of tea, and am now contemplating a truly silent night.
Remembering other friends who have told me that the same, haunting skeletons in everyone's closets come out at Christmas (why not Hallowe'en? Wouldn't that make more sense?), or of other friends who tell me they dread getting together with their extended families reminds me that many, if not most, people are not satisfactorily happy on Christmas, even if they do have other people to spend it with (remember, it was Sartre who did note that hell was other people). Sure, it is nice to have a good reason in the deep of winter to see your family members all together, in one place, but I wonder if all the expectation and hype that is associated with the secular aspects of Christmas is worth the trouble. Maybe if there was less pressure on producing the perfect turkey, and more on the saving graciousness of God, maybe we'd get somewhere...
This year, I can understand why some people think Christmas is actually one of the most loneliest and painful times of year. For, you see, there was a big family row today ('cause hell, if you're going to have a family row, the best time to do it would stereotypically be Christmas Day, the day when tradition and media dictate that you must get along with everyone in order to have the most Norman Rockwellian day ever). I thought to myself, I've had enough of these nuts and fruitcakes, I'm going home. Had myself a long hard run, made a cup of tea, and am now contemplating a truly silent night.
Remembering other friends who have told me that the same, haunting skeletons in everyone's closets come out at Christmas (why not Hallowe'en? Wouldn't that make more sense?), or of other friends who tell me they dread getting together with their extended families reminds me that many, if not most, people are not satisfactorily happy on Christmas, even if they do have other people to spend it with (remember, it was Sartre who did note that hell was other people). Sure, it is nice to have a good reason in the deep of winter to see your family members all together, in one place, but I wonder if all the expectation and hype that is associated with the secular aspects of Christmas is worth the trouble. Maybe if there was less pressure on producing the perfect turkey, and more on the saving graciousness of God, maybe we'd get somewhere...
Thursday, December 18, 2008
People really hate me.
Sometimes I find when I read the papers online, I pay less attention to the actual news item, but instead mainly read the commentaries posted with the story. I have often been saddened by reading about what the usual timbre of people's opinions are on most topics; opinions that are self-righteous, or mean-spirited, or pragmatic without mercy, or bleeding-heart without brains.
I was recently reading about a family conflict between Christians and non-believing family members, and the commentaries went on for miles! The vast majority of the commentaries spoke about how judgmental and bigoted we are, how dumb-headed, how cultish, how we should be eliminated, how the world would be better off without such hateful, amoral, hypocritical people.
Sure, there were a few, lonely voices that had pointed out that this conflict really had nothing to do with religion (true), and that the posters shouldn't be too hasty to judge and jump on the issue. One also pointed out whether the tables were turned in this conflict, whether people would be just as quick to jump all over the bandwagon and write such awful things about the non-believing family members.
However, this does make me reflect on how we think we are so loving and good, and it's just that society doesn't 'get' us because we are not 'of' the world. We play up our victimhood by saying we should expect persecution because that is what happens when you 'stand up' for Jesus. I think that's bullshit. When society hates us that much, and cannot even recognize any of the good at all, there is a problem. If the previous paragraph is what we are known for, I don't care what kind of rhetoric we talk about not being of the world, and we are to accept that we ONLY get treated that way because that is what is supposed to happen. Being 'hated' by the world because we are hypocritical and judgmental is NOT a good reason, and not a reason why we would be persecuted in the first place. We need to seriously reconsider what we actually mean by being in this world...
I was recently reading about a family conflict between Christians and non-believing family members, and the commentaries went on for miles! The vast majority of the commentaries spoke about how judgmental and bigoted we are, how dumb-headed, how cultish, how we should be eliminated, how the world would be better off without such hateful, amoral, hypocritical people.
Sure, there were a few, lonely voices that had pointed out that this conflict really had nothing to do with religion (true), and that the posters shouldn't be too hasty to judge and jump on the issue. One also pointed out whether the tables were turned in this conflict, whether people would be just as quick to jump all over the bandwagon and write such awful things about the non-believing family members.
However, this does make me reflect on how we think we are so loving and good, and it's just that society doesn't 'get' us because we are not 'of' the world. We play up our victimhood by saying we should expect persecution because that is what happens when you 'stand up' for Jesus. I think that's bullshit. When society hates us that much, and cannot even recognize any of the good at all, there is a problem. If the previous paragraph is what we are known for, I don't care what kind of rhetoric we talk about not being of the world, and we are to accept that we ONLY get treated that way because that is what is supposed to happen. Being 'hated' by the world because we are hypocritical and judgmental is NOT a good reason, and not a reason why we would be persecuted in the first place. We need to seriously reconsider what we actually mean by being in this world...
Monday, December 15, 2008
Don't even ask me about zebra toast...
OK, so some of you are well aware of the myriads of stories that my sister and I tell about our parents for they are, frankly, a bit strange. However, this one has been so oft repeated, and yet so incredulously true, I figured I should note it down for posterity's sake.
My parents, when they travel, tend to carry around a few instant noodle bowls in their luggage. Why? In case, wherever their destination happens to be, they don't care for the particular cuisine that is presented to them, they can eat something that they know they'll like. Furthermore, my father is stereotypically Asian in that he does not know how to navigate a kitchen, and has his wife prepare and serve all of the food that he consumes.
So, on one particular vacation, they were in their hotel room. My mother decides she is going to take a shower. My father decides that he would like to have some food. He decides he is going to microwave some food to eat. So he takes out his little microwaveable container, and is delighted to find a microwave in the hotel room that they are staying in.
He pops in the food, closes the door, and presses 1:30. Nothing happens.
He tries again. Still, nothing happens: No lights, no whirring noises, nothing at all. Well, he is entirely perplexed: he's basically used all the knowledge he has of microwave ovens, and this has got him stumped.
So, he toddles over to the bed, sits down, and waits for my mother to finish her shower.
She comes out, and he asks her why, even though he's put the food into the microwave, and pushed the buttons, he hasn't been able to cook himself some food.
She wanders over to the microwave and says, "That's no microwave!"
(Here comes the punchline): "That's the security deposit box!"
Sadly, this does foretell the fact that if my mother dies first, my father will die within a week or two of starvation.
My parents, when they travel, tend to carry around a few instant noodle bowls in their luggage. Why? In case, wherever their destination happens to be, they don't care for the particular cuisine that is presented to them, they can eat something that they know they'll like. Furthermore, my father is stereotypically Asian in that he does not know how to navigate a kitchen, and has his wife prepare and serve all of the food that he consumes.
So, on one particular vacation, they were in their hotel room. My mother decides she is going to take a shower. My father decides that he would like to have some food. He decides he is going to microwave some food to eat. So he takes out his little microwaveable container, and is delighted to find a microwave in the hotel room that they are staying in.
He pops in the food, closes the door, and presses 1:30. Nothing happens.
He tries again. Still, nothing happens: No lights, no whirring noises, nothing at all. Well, he is entirely perplexed: he's basically used all the knowledge he has of microwave ovens, and this has got him stumped.
So, he toddles over to the bed, sits down, and waits for my mother to finish her shower.
She comes out, and he asks her why, even though he's put the food into the microwave, and pushed the buttons, he hasn't been able to cook himself some food.
She wanders over to the microwave and says, "That's no microwave!"
(Here comes the punchline): "That's the security deposit box!"
Sadly, this does foretell the fact that if my mother dies first, my father will die within a week or two of starvation.
Thursday, December 11, 2008
Whoo boy, I'm looking forward to the UK
I respect children profoundly. I think that they are the wisest amongst us, but we adults (ie. parents) unfortunately twist and mar and distort them such that they absorb our fears, our anxieties, our biases and our blinders. I cannot help but look at a child that could have been so much more, so much better, so much more noble, had their home circumstances just been... different.
This leads me to the point that I think I really am heading to a point of burn-out in aspects of my job. How so? For the first time ever, I made two different parents cry, and not for joy (that happens way more often). Why? For my chastisement of their ideas and fears that they were transferring onto their children. And you know what? I didn't care. At all.
Sure, you can say, easy for you to say; you don't have to raise any. Sure, I will say back: but I know and recognize my shortcomings, and am not so self-centred and self-aggrandized that I believe that I am capable and worthy enough to be transforming and forming and molding one of these little ones. Better for me to have a millstone hung around my neck and be thrown into the sea...
This leads me to the point that I think I really am heading to a point of burn-out in aspects of my job. How so? For the first time ever, I made two different parents cry, and not for joy (that happens way more often). Why? For my chastisement of their ideas and fears that they were transferring onto their children. And you know what? I didn't care. At all.
Sure, you can say, easy for you to say; you don't have to raise any. Sure, I will say back: but I know and recognize my shortcomings, and am not so self-centred and self-aggrandized that I believe that I am capable and worthy enough to be transforming and forming and molding one of these little ones. Better for me to have a millstone hung around my neck and be thrown into the sea...
Monday, December 08, 2008
God with us; us with others?
I think one of the difficulties in the month of December, which happens to also be one of the joys, is the amount of socializing involved in the month. Besides the obvious reason of it being Christmas for this phenomenon to occur, there is the additional imperative in getting people out of their homes in the dark and dreary winter, and spending time in the company of others.
However, there are clearly downsides to all of this: I am already noting the lack of time I have to spend in contemplating the Advent season; every year I say to myself, "Self, it is time to contemplate this season; not necessarily whether we should be celebrating it at all or no, or our practices as to how we do so, but at least the sentiment and the motivations behind our celebrations", but then I don't, as I rush rush rush from one occasion to another. I am already tired from the first weekend of December, having been to five different evening events in three evenings (yes, you may rightly ask; how can you validly do that and actually develop authentic relationship with people as you run around, imbibing drinks and making small talk? That is a GREAT question that I cannot adequately answer).
I am not sure how to balance the Saturnalia/winter solstice-type aspects of our celebration along with the real celebration that is supposed to make this all worthwhile. All the food and drink laid out in its splendour, when the refugee king had nothing more than His mother's breast to feed upon. All the cheer, good will and rosy cheeks - due in no small part from the great Gift that was given to us - but I still long for something deeper, something profoundly good, something that pierces my heart with the absolute, utter greatness of the sentiment of the season. Is this just me?
However, there are clearly downsides to all of this: I am already noting the lack of time I have to spend in contemplating the Advent season; every year I say to myself, "Self, it is time to contemplate this season; not necessarily whether we should be celebrating it at all or no, or our practices as to how we do so, but at least the sentiment and the motivations behind our celebrations", but then I don't, as I rush rush rush from one occasion to another. I am already tired from the first weekend of December, having been to five different evening events in three evenings (yes, you may rightly ask; how can you validly do that and actually develop authentic relationship with people as you run around, imbibing drinks and making small talk? That is a GREAT question that I cannot adequately answer).
I am not sure how to balance the Saturnalia/winter solstice-type aspects of our celebration along with the real celebration that is supposed to make this all worthwhile. All the food and drink laid out in its splendour, when the refugee king had nothing more than His mother's breast to feed upon. All the cheer, good will and rosy cheeks - due in no small part from the great Gift that was given to us - but I still long for something deeper, something profoundly good, something that pierces my heart with the absolute, utter greatness of the sentiment of the season. Is this just me?
Thursday, December 04, 2008
Tuesday, November 25, 2008
It's not exactly walking on water, but...
This semester I've been co-ordinating a missions course, as some of you well know. There have been some personal great blessings from it, as well as great disappointments as the semester has been progressing. However, one small thing that has not ceased to amaze me is how He has managed to make me not late, ever, for getting there to prep and to pray. This is amazing, in that I have to leave exactly at 1600hrs from the office in order to make it home, maybe get some time to eat something, and then get over to the course. However, when's the last time that a doctor's office ever ends exactly on time?
Now, I am a dictator with the clock, so I rarely go overtime by more than five minutes, however, when a minute here and there accumulate, it doesn't take long before you're 20-30 minutes over time (which is why, people, it's important to get to your doctor's offices on time!). Usually, I can't free myself from patient chatter and paperwork till about 1630hrs on a usual day.
Incredibly, however, week after week this entire semester, I have been done seeing patients, finished my charting, EVERYTHING, and clear to go by 1600hrs at the very latest. This is nothing short than a miracle, week after week.
I keep on walking around, holding my breath, waiting for my "luck" to run out, and it has not yet. I suspect it is no longer luck. Even this afternoon, with the slots booked up to the rafters, and several chronic late-arrivals on the list, I still managed to finish everything by 1553hrs. Amazing. Somehow, every single person this afternoon actually showed up early for their appointments. Amazing.
To me, this is a small miracle, as this does not happen on a regular, consistent basis, at all. Heck, I've even had a bit of time to blog about this before I head out! Now that is something that is praise-worthy...
Now, I am a dictator with the clock, so I rarely go overtime by more than five minutes, however, when a minute here and there accumulate, it doesn't take long before you're 20-30 minutes over time (which is why, people, it's important to get to your doctor's offices on time!). Usually, I can't free myself from patient chatter and paperwork till about 1630hrs on a usual day.
Incredibly, however, week after week this entire semester, I have been done seeing patients, finished my charting, EVERYTHING, and clear to go by 1600hrs at the very latest. This is nothing short than a miracle, week after week.
I keep on walking around, holding my breath, waiting for my "luck" to run out, and it has not yet. I suspect it is no longer luck. Even this afternoon, with the slots booked up to the rafters, and several chronic late-arrivals on the list, I still managed to finish everything by 1553hrs. Amazing. Somehow, every single person this afternoon actually showed up early for their appointments. Amazing.
To me, this is a small miracle, as this does not happen on a regular, consistent basis, at all. Heck, I've even had a bit of time to blog about this before I head out! Now that is something that is praise-worthy...
Saturday, November 22, 2008
Lilliputian
So last night was the first night, in a long while, that I was the shortest person in the room, by at least 2-3 inches. That was a nice change from the usual from either being fairly average or fairly tall. I know lots of short people complain that they don't like always being the smallest person in the room, but I kind of liked it. In some ways, it made me feel safer, I guess. Like I was surrounded by a wall of big people.
In contrast, in several hours, I will be the tallest person at dinner. Funny that, why I'm noticing height over all other aspects of dinner...
In contrast, in several hours, I will be the tallest person at dinner. Funny that, why I'm noticing height over all other aspects of dinner...
Tuesday, November 18, 2008
Intangible Morpheus
So, sleep has been an elusive and transient journeyman in my life, as some of you may well know, for various reasons. One thing, however, heartened me that I read recently. The Globe and Mail reported that our propensity to have a straight eight hours may not likely have been the normal sleep patterns of earlier peoples. They suggested that even as recently as the 19th century (ie. anything that is pre-industrial Europe), people would have slept only 3-4 hours at a time, waking up for an hour or two in the middle of the night in order to keep fires going, to check on bread rising, to watch for potential enemies, to make love, to care for braying animals, etc, and then would have another slumber into the dawn. They further suggest that people, like myself, may simply be mirroring how most of society has habitually slept through the ages.
The only problem is, however, that globally, our society now does not allow the 10-12 hours that this type of sleep-cycling requires. It requires that one has about 6-7 hours to sleep every day, and if one needs any longer than this, then they are slothful, lazy, or worse.
Sigh. At any rate, it is good to know that I'm not historically aberrant, just societally aberrant. But I knew that already...
The only problem is, however, that globally, our society now does not allow the 10-12 hours that this type of sleep-cycling requires. It requires that one has about 6-7 hours to sleep every day, and if one needs any longer than this, then they are slothful, lazy, or worse.
Sigh. At any rate, it is good to know that I'm not historically aberrant, just societally aberrant. But I knew that already...
Sunday, November 16, 2008
Keeping up with the Joneses
I'm kind of embarrassed: I keep up with quite a few friends' blogs, and, though some have not posted for months, if not weeks, I still do check them regularly. However, one of my friends, who mainly writes about her experiences of food (particularly Chinese food), throwing in a few recipes here and there as well, has had three posts (count 'em! THREE!) over the past weekend.
I'm trying hard by putting this one up too, so at least I can say I had two this weekend, I guess.
I have been up to interesting things here and there, but nothing concrete enough in my head to try to put down on paper (or screen, as it were) yet. I did go over to a friend's church this morning, where he has recently taken over as their pastor. I totally love listening to his preaching, as I always find I learn something significant every time I hear him from the pulpit. Today was no exception to that rule.
However, I've realized it's a challenge to be clergy. I realize that it is an isolating life, which is ironic in a faith that depends on community to have it run properly. However, clergy, being in positions of authority and as the moral compass of the community, need to be able to keep their bearings straight for the sake of the community. Their accountability, their socializing, their ability to really let loose and be themselves, can only really be done in the context and the safety of their friends outside of the church. It is funny, in a way, to see him preach, knowing him as I do, in ways that his congregation does not.
I imagine it is also even more isolating in the context that he is unmarried while serving in this congregation. I think, after a bunch of us went to his ordination service, that I'm his first friend to come to his regular service. After the service was over, I couldn't stay long, but he asked if I wanted to stay a bit for the coffee time. Certainly, I said, but I don't want your congregation thinking that I'm your girlfriend or something. Well, he said, that would actually probably make my life easier. Turns out, several of the older congregants have already suggested hooking him up with daughters and granddaughters, and there are a few single women in the congregation as well. So, I said, sure, I'll be your imaginary girlfriend for now, and then you can dump me when it's convenient for you. We'll see if that has them laying off on him for a while, though I don't think I looked like I was that much competition, to be sure...
I'm trying hard by putting this one up too, so at least I can say I had two this weekend, I guess.
I have been up to interesting things here and there, but nothing concrete enough in my head to try to put down on paper (or screen, as it were) yet. I did go over to a friend's church this morning, where he has recently taken over as their pastor. I totally love listening to his preaching, as I always find I learn something significant every time I hear him from the pulpit. Today was no exception to that rule.
However, I've realized it's a challenge to be clergy. I realize that it is an isolating life, which is ironic in a faith that depends on community to have it run properly. However, clergy, being in positions of authority and as the moral compass of the community, need to be able to keep their bearings straight for the sake of the community. Their accountability, their socializing, their ability to really let loose and be themselves, can only really be done in the context and the safety of their friends outside of the church. It is funny, in a way, to see him preach, knowing him as I do, in ways that his congregation does not.
I imagine it is also even more isolating in the context that he is unmarried while serving in this congregation. I think, after a bunch of us went to his ordination service, that I'm his first friend to come to his regular service. After the service was over, I couldn't stay long, but he asked if I wanted to stay a bit for the coffee time. Certainly, I said, but I don't want your congregation thinking that I'm your girlfriend or something. Well, he said, that would actually probably make my life easier. Turns out, several of the older congregants have already suggested hooking him up with daughters and granddaughters, and there are a few single women in the congregation as well. So, I said, sure, I'll be your imaginary girlfriend for now, and then you can dump me when it's convenient for you. We'll see if that has them laying off on him for a while, though I don't think I looked like I was that much competition, to be sure...
Banana boys and girls
I went to go watch the highly-acclaimed Banana Boys with a Japanese friend of mine yesterday. We laughed, we cried, we were moved by the depiction of five Chinese-Canadian boys just trying to find themselves and make it in the world today.
It made us wonder afterwards if we should've invited a few of our white friends to come with us, to see if it made sense to them, if it resonated as deeply for them as it did for us. We somehow felt, no, likely not; probably they would've laughed at the same sequences as we did, not from a deep personal understanding, but because it was just plain funny.
It is interesting how we can turn those things that are the deepest point of pain into humour. How racial incidents and stereotypes can be laughed at, even as we "take it, taaaake it!". And so, we chuckle to ourselves, bracing ourselves for the inevitable onslaught of reality, as we deal with the un-funny real world...
It made us wonder afterwards if we should've invited a few of our white friends to come with us, to see if it made sense to them, if it resonated as deeply for them as it did for us. We somehow felt, no, likely not; probably they would've laughed at the same sequences as we did, not from a deep personal understanding, but because it was just plain funny.
It is interesting how we can turn those things that are the deepest point of pain into humour. How racial incidents and stereotypes can be laughed at, even as we "take it, taaaake it!". And so, we chuckle to ourselves, bracing ourselves for the inevitable onslaught of reality, as we deal with the un-funny real world...
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)