The "Wu Word" Blog
May 2017
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Miss Mary: Posted on Monday, May 29, 2017 10:35 AM
I admit
it. I can be a know-it-all. I am guilty of my walking fortune cookie
or an open Hallmark card ways with a sentiment, a phrase, or words of wisdom to give
out to anyone who may take the time to listen to me. I am always staring upwards in amazement and
awe of how really small we are in such a wide world, weird lives we live and
lead, and magic all around us that is so incredibly awe-inspiring. I ramble because of the many differing perspectives
with the understanding that there is really never any concrete answer with my
nearly concluding, “Well…it depends…”
So, imagine
my surprise when he threw me off. One of
my good friends and I indulge in talking every couple of months about all the
hard-hitting questions and quandaries : Life, Love, World, Travel, Experiences,
and the list can go on and on until you are blue in the face. There are very few people in my life that I
can have a mutual meaningful conversation with as well as be my completely
wacky self. ‘Mutual’ and ‘Meaningful’
are the keywords here. Many usually talk
about themselves or others. Hey, I’m
even guilty of being that ‘many.’
His
questions caught me off guard, “Would you want to know when you die? Would you want to know all the answers in
life? Do you think all our lives are
pre-written? ”
Without any
hesitation, I said, “No way would I want to know when I die. That is like knowing the ending of a great
movie, book, or story without the intrigue of the beginning and the growing
interest in the plot and storyline. I
think God or some high being may know everything we are going to do and all the
people we are going to meet and their purposes in our lives. I do not believe in pre-written because of
our own free will to make choices. I
think there is a lot we do not know. And
that’s okay. We are not born
knowing. We are born to learn as we go
along in life.”
“Why wouldn’t
you want to know? Wouldn’t that make
life so much easier?” he asked me.
“Maybe, but
that would be boring and meaningless. If
we knew everything, we would not learn and appreciate the experience. Especially when we look back. If I knew everything, my faith would also
falter or maybe even fall to pieces. I hold fast to faith that even when it is hard
or hurts as hell in life that everything will work out. I do not ever want to lose my sense of faith
and wonder.”
I paused and
continued on (my rambling self coming out):
“You know that phrase if I had known now what I had known then that I
wouldn’t have done it? Do you know how
people would want to warn their child version of their future selves and what
is going to happen? Well, I would not
want to do that. I would not give a
warning. I would like to think I would
give a sort of blessing. I would tell
the child version of myself to go with life as it unfolds, do not fear the
mistakes that will inevitably come from the choices you make when you are put
to the test at times, and let time tell and God or the higher power reveal. I would
say it is okay not to know and that we often live with more questions than
answers in life struggling to find when we need to go with the flows of
life. I would just tell my child version
that everything always has their magical and mysterious ways of working out as
it is meant to as so much and maybe everything in life is timing.”
My friend
paused pensively, digesting my views. Slowly, he said, “I think our lives are
pre-written by God. He knows everything
we are going to do, everything we are going to experience, and all the people
we are going to meet. I would want to know what is written. If I knew what was written then I could prepare
for how I am going to handle what’s coming up. ”
I was truly
shocked by such a response. Completely
thrown for a loop.
“Control is
an illusion,” I spouted off bluntly, “You can only prepare and plan so much in life,
and I think there needs to be peace made with that. We can't know everything. It's not good to know everything. If we knew everything, what would happen to our sense of humility and being humble and compassionate rather than arrogant? We are flawed humans that constantly make mistakes-- and it's OK to make mistakes so we can keep on learning and going.”
I continued
with even more reasons why I did not agree with his viewpoint to know
everything. At the end of our
conversation, he admitted, “Well, you may be changing my opinion now.”
There are many lost
and even dark times we ask in our lives ‘why me?’ or ‘why is this happening?’ While I am a firm believer that everything
happens for a reason and every single person who we cross path in our lives
holds a purpose, I also believe there are experiences that happen in life that
may not have a rhyme or reason at all—these are the ‘unknown’ for us not being
able to figure out why they happened as well as the ‘unknown’ that lies
ahead. We need to make peace with the
unknown and with the questions that surround it. Maybe even embrace them all in a big bear
hug.
Do you believe our
lives are pre-written or predestined by God or some higher power? Do you think everything really happens for a
reason and that there are no coincidences in life? Would you really want to know everything,
like when you die and what is going to happen in your life going forward? How do you feel about ‘ignorance is bliss’? Would you want to warn your child self of
what happened in the future and, if so, what would you reveal? What have you experienced that you can’t find
or understand the reason or the knowing behind it all?
Maybe I am not as much of a know-it-all as I thought and appeared to be after all.
Keep smilin’ until we
meet again,
Mary ;-) |
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Miss Mary: Posted on Sunday, May 21, 2017 8:37 PM
I was crying
again. I could not help it. It was the onion. It got me again.
All because of that
sharp and stinging scent that shot straight through my nostrils, tears filled my eyes
and trickled down my face. Through
blurred vision, my knife clattered on the bamboo cutting board and I rushed for
tissues to wipe my wet face. I tried all
the tricks of the trade with the onion to drench it in water before the cut of
the knife sliced into it. I tried a
candle for the flame to extinguish the scent.
I even tried goggles. No
luck. The teardrops always came with a
vengeance.
Out of all of the
many delicious and delectable foods in the world that I thoroughly enjoy, the
onion had the most profound effect on me.
It was the only vegetable that brought me literally to tears. It was the only vegetable that had a stinging
bite to my taste buds when I bit into it raw, and, thus, needed to be paired
and even grouped with other foods to bring out the greatest flavors. It was the only vegetable that contained many
layers. Most of all, it was the only
vegetable that people have compared me to.
“Mary,” this person
who shall remain anonymous said, “You are like an onion. You have many layers.”
“I can’t figure you
out,” I’ve been told by others.
In addition to being
told that I was like an onion, I was also told that I am a mystery, complex,
complicated, and, my favorite, an enigma all resulting in an invisible and
unspoken wall to others. I took
reluctant pride in this for I wanted to be difficult to read in certain situations
that required my protection, but then I wanted to be open and easy to read so
people could feel welcomed and want to get to know me and develop the deep
relationships that I am all about. I
contemplated myself as ‘the onion,’ and thought that we are all like
onions. We are all not as what we appear
as an innocent-looking onion that can actually evoke deep emotions like tears. We are also the most real when we are raw and
alone, and our greatest, deepest, and most surprising of flavors are revealed
when coupled and grouped with others. We
are all full of layers that increase and yet reveal as we get older depending
on who we are with and where we are.
Recently, a very good
childhood friend said, “I do not know what happened to you, but you are
changing. Maybe it is since your
hysterectomy. Your emotions are much easier to read now. When you are pissed off, you show it and say
it. You’ve gotten feistier.” I
responded, “I think the older you get, the more realize that you do not have
time and energy to waste on stupid stuff and so you just show it and say it.”
Yes, I am
changing. We are all changing. Life and the world we live in are fast-paced,
always moving, always changing. Our layers are multiplying and changing and,
even maybe, being peeled away slowly in certain circumstances with only the
most special of people who can literally peel and even ‘cut’ right through us with their
blades. We need to try to take people as
they come and need to be and try to work together even more now than ever
before with all our many layers.
The first impressions we have of others is just that-- a first impression. It is the very first layer. There is more than meets the eyes with people. What appears on the surface is not what is in
our substance. There is much that goes
on inside than what is often facades on the outside. Social situations deeply and greatly affect how we appear and adjust.
What are some of your layers? When have these layers been exposed on their
own or through the prodding or even ‘cutting’ of others? When have the first impressions you had of
others been wrong or even right after you got to know the layers of someone?
If you were a vegetable, what would you be?
Keep smilin’ until we
meet again, Mary ;-)
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Miss Mary: Posted on Saturday, May 13, 2017 5:08 PM
"Do you speak English?”
I asked full of trepidation and desperation.
The response was
laughter. Loud laughter all around me
from the woman at the hotel concierge, my close buddy, and the tour guide
driver. This question was not meant to
be a joke. This was a dead serious
question.
The woman said, “Of
course I speak English! This is America—we
have to speak English!”
Guess again. Here I was in Hawaii. Mind you, a U.S.A. state. The 50 state. Everyone who has been to Hawaii has raved and
showered the state with happy sighs and verbal accolades as “Paradise,” “Heaven
on Earth,” “Beautiful,” and “Gorgeous.” 4
months in advance of planning and booking.
10 hour flight of where I gorged on airplane food to keep my overactive
mind at bay with a full belly.
I expected a sweet
scented circle of flowers placed around my neck as the typical Hawaiian
greeting breathed with the lilting word of “Aloha.” Instead, the tour guide driver in a light
green and white-flowered Hawaiian shirt greeted me speaking only in Chinese, “This
is a Chinese-speaking only tour. Do you
speak Chinese?”
My English response, “Are
you kidding me? You do not speak ANY English? You only speak Chinese?”
Apparently, he
understood English as much as I understood Chinese—Barely. Before I knew it, he was on the cell phone
telling his supervisor that a major mistake had been made that my friend and I
had been inadvertently placed on a Chinese-speaking only tour. He ended
the conversation with saying in Chinese: “Her and her friend are
foreigners. She is Chinese, but she
doesn’t speak Chinese. She is ABC-American-Born Chinese. She is a
foreigner.”
My face suddenly got
very, very hot. Waves of anger, humor, humiliation,
and stupidity washed over me. I felt
like I was a kid all over again when my father and his relatives would speak
Cantonese and I was left so bored out of my skull that I would observe carpet
patterns as my entertainment. I thought
about my many failed attempts to learn Chinese, chalking it up to me lacking
complete talent in linguistics. I
reasoned that I learned hospital and healthcare language before Chinese because
my exposure was that healthcare world over my Chinese roots. I felt like I was in school where I was the
unpopular weird nerd buried with my head in the book, not belonging
anywhere. I felt like I was in China. I was a stranger in a strange land. I was a foreigner. Have you ever felt like that? Not belonging anywhere even with people who appear
and seem just like you on the surface, yet never feeling so different in the
very core of you?
My Stepmom knew how I
felt about being left out from my Dad and his relatives who spoke Cantonese
because she spoke Mandarin and did not know any Cantonese. She said, “Well, you have to try to accommodate
by learning their language.”
I sputtered, “Why do
I have to learn their language when we are in America and speak English?”
Her response: “You
are just putting yourself in a position where you are going to feel left out
and not belong.”
My response, “Well, I
hate to break to you, but I do not really belong anywhere.”
Growing up in a
household of family members speaking Cantonese and Mandarin and then only
English at school, I understood that hearing, languages, and communication
could be the greatest barriers or the greatest bridges. Throughout my life, I
felt like I never belonged anywhere. I’ve
been called an “Abnormal Asian” and more “American” than “Chinese” because I am
loud, inquisitive, and bold rather than the stereotypical timid, reserved, and
quiet. My father has labeled us the “Weird
Wus.” Growing up, I craved that sense of
belonging. Somewhere. Someone.
Some group. Somewhere along the
way in life when I sought out places to belong to and people to belong with, I understood
that humans craved connections and would unknowingly undergo shifts in demeanor
for the sake of just belonging and connecting with others. I also slowly concluded that you can’t care
and you just have to be you to adjust and acclimate with different people and
situations as they arise.
Identity, belonging, and connecting with others go beyond and deeper than my Asian features. My identity is NOT ONLY about and determined by my exterior surface features of Female, Asian-American, short stature, for these are all outer that change so much easier than the interior. For me, my identity is about my interior of substance, life experiences, personality, and character. There is so much more to each and every one of us on the inside more than the outside.
I suppose I am the foreigner—outside observer
looking inside, just creating and loving my own little world full of versatility and varieties, not identifying with
anything or anyone and just being me. Hail
the foreigner!
Have you ever felt
like you do not belong anywhere? Did you
then seek outlets and people to belong? Did
you ever think that belonging in one group can actually cause divisions with
others? Have you ever lost your sense of
who you actually are just for that euphoric and comforting feeling to belong
somewhere and to connect with others?
For those who
identify themselves as weird and not belonging anywhere end up creating their
own world that is full of the unexpected, unforeseen, and most intriguing. Weird is Good. Normal is Boring.
Keep smilin’ until we
meet again, Mary ;-)
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