Spontaneous Protest

A client heard about the concept of spontaneous protest in a psychology class.  It is supposed to be a common phenomenon,  that when people feel violated, annoyed, mistreated, etc., they protest.  The idea of it being spontaneous describes a sense of authorship of own feelings and the right to express them.  She finds that lacking in herself; that she would protest, but not in a spontaneous manner.  Given time, the initial desire to protest may subside and thus not have a voice anymore, or it may amount to rage and she would explode.  Neither is desired by this client. 

Why is it difficult for some people and not others, to spontaneously protest? How does any parent raise a child who feels the right to spontaneously voice her protest and not let it escalate to more than annoyance, and in the process help others understand her better?

I was in the kitchen, heating up food for myself.  I wanted to share my food with him, but right away was concerned if my good intention would not be received well.  I imagined being rejected, hearing  "Don't bother me.  I am busy with my things." and "I don't like what you are offering me." And I hesitated and lost the spontaneity of hospitality.

I wonder if as a child,  I was greeted with welcoming arms and my childish way of expressing love was not only understood, but accepted time and again, would that moment of hesitation still be there?  Would I then have grown up, believing that, most often than not, I was welcomed, and thus not feel ashamed of revealing what is deeply and truly myself? In this case, that I do have a wish to share and I can own up to that desire and not be afraid of how I would be received?

A simple gesture to dismiss an innocent child's expression of love and affection, if repeated enough times, I believe, will send a message to the child that she is not important and she should just keep things to herself.  When this child becomes an adult, this belief about the self will very much keep her from voicing her needs, let alone protest, in a spontaneous way, and in turn will make her feel unloved.

As adults, we are no longer parented by imperfect people, but have taken over the responsibility to, in a way, work out our own salvation.  In my client's case, with the awareness of what is lacking in her and what is more desirable for her, comes the responsibility to "get" it for herself. No more parents to depend on.  It almost feels like what she needs is a leap of faith, to try a new behavior, against the backdrop of opposite emotional experience  It's like asking a person who had experienced the horror of drowning to trust water will float him.  Other than tremendous amount of courage, we will need loving friends to say to her, "Come on, put your feet in the water.  It will not drown you because I am not letting that happen to you."  

I sometimes wonder, is the "growth" worth the hassle and heartbreak, if you don't find enough good people around you to keep you safe.  What if you dive in again and you drown again? I guess this is a personal decision we all have to make. 

Blame or Genuine Concern

"Why are you still with him??" can be taken at least two ways.

I saw a woman yesterday (All names and details have been altered to protect the identies of the clients mentioned in my blog. )who had been repeated cheated on by her boyfriend.  He would not tell her the truth about his "other" social life, but when he was with her, he treated her so nicely that she felt loved and she put up with the repeated offense.

"Why are you still with him?" I asked, in an attempt to help her see her own doing, and hopefully to expose her unconscious motives to herself.  Maybe with her answering this question for herself, she would have an aha moment.

She looked at me, hurt.

Her look told me she felt blamed.  Maybe what she heard was... "Why are you still with him!!" "How could you be so blind!!"  and all the question marks would sound like exclamation marks!!

I guess I was too eager to help her, still.  Without rapport, and without deep understanding of her and her situation, and without tone of voice which conveys concern, questions CAN be taken as blame.

How Much Getting Used to Before You Get Used to

"Get used to it...Get used to it... Get used to it...!!"

How much do we need to tell ourselves this before we finally don't feel much?

A child yearns for his parents to spend more time with him but is also old enough to know parents need to work long hours.  He tells himself, "Get used to this..."  When he comes to the therapist's office and is asked this question, "so how do you feel when you spend most of your time alone at home?" He says, "I am used to it." with a shrug.  I wonder how many times he must have said this to himself  before he finally doesn't feel the pain anymore?

A woman comes in to complain being cheated by her boyfriend over and over again, and she said to herself, "He is just like this and he promised me not to lie to me again.  I need to get used to this and prove to him my unconditional love for him." When asked how she feels about being lied to and found out later, she said, "I am used to this." with tears in her eyes.  I wonder how many times she must have said this to herself so she can continue to be with him.

A mother comes to talk about how her family doesn't respect her.  She works outside the home and she still needs to do almost all of the house chores and cooking.  She looks exhausted and old for her age.  I asked how she felt about being treated this way by the ones she loved.  She said, "I am used to it." but she looked down and her tone diminished.  I said to myself, she must have said this to herself a lot... get used to it... get used to it... they are just like this.  

When we say we are used to something, there usually has been a time when we were not used to it.  We felt powerless to change the situation but we can't, as children, or we don't want to, as adult, leave either.  So we tell ourselves to get used to it.  Eventually we don't feel anything anymore.  Our hearts become hardened.  We think this is a way out, but we fail to notice that when our heart hardens, we die a little.  Joy is also harder to find as our capacity to feel life decreases.  We train ourselves to get used to pain, we lose life along the way.

Pain is not something to get used to.  Pain reminds us of our limitation as the created.  Pain reminds us of the fact that we live in a fallen world.  Pain reminds us that we have gone astray.  Pain reminds us there are more important thing in life than avoidance of pain. Pain pushes us to God.  Pain reveals how demanding we are.  Pain reminds us He works in mysterious ways.  Pain reminds us we are alive.

Pain is better than getting used to if we want to grow.  Pain humbles us; getting used to makes us think we are invincible.

零食和油漆

我去買看電視時要吃的零食.

遍尋不著我熟悉的梅子.  問老闆娘.  她說, "不要每次都吃一樣的.  要換著吃." 說著說著就給我試吃一種鮮綠色的甚麼東西. 我盛情難卻, 卻對泡在水裡那一顆顆綠色的東西懷有戒心. 勉強作一個有禮貌的中國人,  不但接過來,  還把它給吃了.  我想再努力一次, "我以前買的那種呢? 我喜歡..." 老闆娘也不放棄,  不但不回答我,   而且又給了我另外一種梅子吃.  我正在考慮該如何是好的時候, 老闆娘已經拿起帶子問我要買多少了.  好在我還喜歡這新的零食, 所以也就算了. 

離開的時候我想到另一次類似的經驗.

那是我要重新裝修廚房的時候.  選好了油漆的顏色, 正等工頭來交代.

"這是誰選的顏色!!??" 他一副驚訝又不同意的樣子.

"我選的." 我從實招來.

"沒有人用這種顏色的啦!! 妳換一種,  明天我再來. ..還是你要我替妳選?" 他用頗有權威的語氣告訴我, 深怕我年幼無知做錯決定.

"但是我喜歡這個顏色." 我還要辯白,   但心裡在說, "你有沒有搞錯! 到底是誰的廚房!"

"這個顏色不好看!! 還是換一個吧..." 他也不放棄要說服我.

" 我就要這個顏色. "  我心想, 豈有此理! 不可退讓!

 

"好吧... 漆上去就很難改囉..." 臨走他還要將我一軍.

"不改. " 我努力維持君子風度.

事隔多年,  我有時還退一步看看廚房的顏色. 我是對的.  我就是喜歡這個顏色! 

零食店的老闆娘和油漆工都是為我好, 而把他們認為好的東西要硬塞給我. 有的時候我可以考慮,   也許會放棄自己的想法意見來接受他們的好意.  但是也有的時候我要堅持己見, 因為畢竟我的生活是我的, 我有權為自己做決定, 我也必須為自己做決定.  我越是清楚自己是誰,  喜歡甚麼不喜歡甚麼,  想甚麼不想甚麼,  我就越能堅持自己而不怕別人的挑戰和質疑.  

反過來如果我們是那個有好主意要給別人的人, 我們也要學會尊重別人的選擇權利, 懂得退一步, 讓所關心的人做自己的決定.  有得時候在我們眼裡他們做的決定是錯的,  但是誰人不是從錯誤中學習人生中重要的功課呢?  錯誤不可怕,  可怕的是我們失去做選擇的勇氣和承擔後果的態度及能力.  人生中如果沒有選擇的餘地, 會是怎樣呢?!

Hot Air Balloon Ride

When I was first asked to join the balloon ride, my first reaction was to turn it down on the basis that I thought I was afraid of the height.  Upon second thought, I decided to say yes first and find out how, exactly, I was, or was not, afraid of height.

It turned out I was not at all.

One thing that made me think was when I saw the crew working so hard to set up the balloon that big drops of sweat drenched their tank tops and T-shirts and made their faces shining.  And yet when they talked to each other and to us, you could see big smiles too.  It struck me that unless they truly enjoyed what they were doing, this amount of hard labor would make anyone grumpy and complaining.  The weather was hot, dry and people stood around to watch you work, and they waited for you to set up the balloon so they can fly.  I remembered the days when I would be cooking in the kitchen with hungry kids looking on, or when anticipating, chatty guests were gathering for dinner to start.  If there was even a sense of being forced, or demanded to do what I was doing, I remember feeling resentful, and certainly unhappy.  But if it was out of my own volition, it didn't matter then, how many people were waiting and how they were not helping, I would be in a good enough mood to be pleasant.

It is so important to enjoy what you do, especially if this is something you have to do day in and day out.  A job is one of these things.

La Jolla is such a beautiful place!! I can't believe I haven't visited it in the past twenty some years while living in Southern California.  

We visited a candy/ice cream store that absolutely delighted me.  I told them I felt like a kid again, except this time I was a kid with money and I could buy whatever I wanted! Well, I ended up with ONLY a small cup of ice cream.  I guess I was not a kid after all!  There were more than, according to the store owner, four thousand different kinds of sweets, plus cards and toys and interesting things.  I didn't care if it was before lunch time, pleasure principle got the better of me and for about ten minutes while we were in the store, I felt young.

So... lessons of the day:  I am not afraid of height.  Friends are important.  Ice cream is really good, still good, will always be good.  Blessed are those who enjoy their jobs.  Indulgence in a candy store for an adult does more good than harm.  

I was so busy in the candy store; my senses were too busy taking in the surroundings, I forgot to take a picture of myself!

Praise the Lord!

Do you know how little bugs protect themselves from their predators? Boy, they stink!!

Marb and Yoko found this stinky bug in the livingroom and for the entire morning, they couldn't get him because he stinks!!  When they tried to get close to him, his antenna would go up as if to say, "any close, I will prick you!" and he gave out this odor!! Marb and Yoko tried but the smell kept them away.  

I praise the Lord for his protection of these little ones.  Even though they stink!!

Appreciating Life by Slowing Down

I appreciate how my body just works with me and I know if only I give it time, it will let me know its needs.  

I used to go to bed around 10:30 and would naturally wake up eight hours later.  I recently moved my bedtime to 11 and I found out that when I open my eyes in the morning, it's eight hours later at 7.  Yoko comes around that time to wake me up too.  I want to believe it's not her who has learned to allow me to rest for eight hours, but my own body is taking care of itself this way and I just happen to notice this kind of things.

But if you don't have the luxury, for an extended period of time, to not be against some time constraint, you probably will not find out what your body prefers and needs.

I used to have lunch around noon so around that time I will get hungry.  For about 3 years now, my lunchtime has been pushed back to 2 in the afternoon and my body agrees to that and it doesn't send hunger messages to me until around that time.  I find that quite amazing.

I used to sleep on my right side at night.  When I was pregnant with Lydia, I read that some important artery is located on the right side of the uterus and if pregnant women sleep on their left, their babies get more blood supply while the mother sleeps.  I decided I wanted to give my daughter as much as I could give, so I started to make myself sleep on the left side.  After two daughters, I am now "amphibious"  and feel fine either way.

But that took me all those pregnant months!

So it was my morning routine at leisure again today.  I took my time, feeling a bit confused about time and space.  I wonder if modern man/woman, in North America, lives like this.  I felt like I had been in 18th century, living probably in a remote farm house out of nowhere.  On our walk today, I let Beau take his time too.  We made a lot of stops and I just noticed that there was no need to hurry up in me.  I looked at the oval plate at breakfast time, and really appreciated it being oval so my egg and my banana bread could all fit.  For one night I didn't take out trash, and I found an ARMY of ants  in the sink and I traced their path around the crease of the walls, leading to back door.  They sured travelled a long way for an empty yogurt jar.  I used up what's left in the ant spray and wondered what ancient people used to kill ants.  The used spray can now becomes another environmental hazard. I was feeling the hot water splashing on my body in shower, and remembered my gas bill last month was only single digit! In disbelief, I gave thanks.  Litter box was the last thing to do before my morning begins. And it was almost eleven o'clock already!!

These precious moments in the morning are priceless.  

Vivaldi's Gloria in D is playing; cats are sprawling out on their blankie at the foot of my bed; morning sun very gently shines through crisp autumn air  into my room; I hear the music, but also the silence in my heart and can sense the stillness in my soul. 

What a beautiful morning!

I have created 20 lb. of garbage!!

Yesterday Yoko and Marble finished their bag of catfood and I used the 40-lb. bag to put all my garbage in before I dump it in the trash bin.  And that's when I found out they weighed about half of when the bag was full.  So that's 20 lb. of garbage!!

I thought to myself, wow, let's see what's in here because I never realized I can create so much garbage until lately when I have become more mindful about environmental health.

As I went through my mental checklist, I found plastic bags, Q-tips, hair (human and cat), paper, food scraps and Starbucks cups (even though they are 10% recyclable) cans from canned cat food, and other gross things.  And I looked around my place, there are shampoo bottles, plastic this and that, and I worry.  Who knows how many years it will take for these junks to be  "digested" by mother earth.  

I remember my grandma used to save the fat she got from frying some pork meat and she'd save the lard for her future stir fry dishes.  I am beginning to wonder, if used in moderation, maybe lard is not so bad after all, because in that case, she doesn't have to buy plastic bottles of other oils to use and pollute the earth with used plastic bottles.  

We human usually start invent something which we thought are good for us and don't know we are walking down a path of destruction until we start to hurt a little. 

Table Manners

Do parents not teach table manners any more?

I went to Wing Tin after the opera to pick up some lunch for myself.  While waiting, I looked around inconspicuously. (I love to observe people but don't want to get attacked if found out.) This father with his two sons caught my attention.

The apathy on their face.  I feel so sad when I see that expression on people's faces.

And the way the boys are sitting.  And the way they hold their chopsticks.  And the way they chew.  And the way they fight for a piece of meat.  And the expressionless face of the father.

I wonder where the mother is.  Is today the father's turn to have the boys? Is the mother working on Saturday? Is the mother...dead? Has the mother left the father? Did they teach the boys how to sit and have table manners? And other manners in life?  

I imagine when these boys grow up and  have girlfriends.  Will they eat in a fancy restaurant with their sweethearts sitting across at the table and eat like this?! I hope not!  Their legs sprawl out on the chair, their torsos slump over, theirs shoulders sag, and they hold their chopsticks like they are going to get dropped any minute and you wonder if they can pick up anything at all.  Will they eat like that when they become fathers? They sit sloppily at the table like they are just filling up their stomachs and no more.  

The younger boy is the most lively person among the three.  Father and older brother both have flat affect.  Nothing on their faces.  Null.  Their bodies are stiff too.  The younger boy though, has the most actions.  He turns to see if food is coming.  He is the first one to get rice for himself.   I wanted to see if he would get rice for his father and brother, but he only attended to himself.  Boba drink came next, he grabbed it and got himself well taken care of.  His brother got a piece of meat and he took it from his brother's chopsticks!!  He smiled sneakily at the brother and he won.  The whole time the father was oblivious to the interaction and just sat there, his eyes hollow and blank.  He put some food in his older son's plate, and I thought he was defending him from the little robber.  But next he put some on his plate too.  At least he is being fair, I said to myself. And I breathed a whisper of a sigh of relief.

I looked around the restaurant, and I could see no gentlemen manners.  Unshaven, unkempt, barely waking-up looks on their faces, nothingness on their faces.  Slurpping soup/noodles, loudly sipping tea, talking as if no one was around them, poking their noses, blowing into napkins, wiping their mouths like a pirate of the Carribbean, they seem to enjoy themselves, unaware of their contribution to a big picture with one horrified "admirer"-- me.

She must be the owner of the restaurant.  This lady who speaks Beijing Mandarin but has all Cantonese speaking cooks and waitresses working for her.  She looked at my tunic and said, like making an announcement, "where did you buy this? " I whispered to her where, and she announced, "I thought you bought it from Ross.  I saw one like this and I really liked it...should have gotten it."  I thought about how much I spent on this tunic and she thought I got it from Ross!!  My food came and I quickly walked out.  

I love their food, and that is the most important thing.  :-)

I love music!!

Last night, I was having an emotional roller coaster ride at the Disney Concert Hall!  It was Essa-Pekka Salonen and the L.A. Phil. playing Stravinsky's Fireworks and Firebird, and Yefim Bronfman playing Tchaikovsky's piano concerto No. 1.  

I have listened to that piano concerto for so many times that I thought it was going to be a sing-along at best.  But Mr. B surprised me!!  I even thought I heard something I didn't know war there  before.  He is a heavy-build Russian guy and he's got big hands and big fingers but his soft andante passages sounded so gentle and light-footed it's almost comical.  You see the silhouette of a big man but you hear the footsteps of a fawn.  (He also reminded me of my dad, who when used to self teach to play the piano, complained all the time about his finger being too big for the keys.)  And my goodness the power of the opening chords!!  For people with weak hearts, those few seconds could be dangerous.  I was transfixed though.  

I was a little uncertain about Stravinsky before I went.  I thought I was going for Tchaikovsky, and I would just bear with Mr. S.  But the Firebird just blew me away and I felt like a soccer mom at the standing ovation when I heard myself cry "Bravo!!"  Never before in any concert was I so moved that the utterance was so spontaneous and I didn't even feel embarrassed.  For the entirety of the ballet (it was written for ballet but last night was, of course, without the dancers and all that) the orchestration was worse (?) than the gophers popping up from holes at some game booth in a carnival.  You simply couldn't but follow to where it was taking you.  Busy, multi-faceted, intertwining, but absolutely beautiful.  It satisfied my imagination and pumped up adrenalin.  I was so worked up after I went home as to need to unwind before I could go to bed.

Went to see Salome at the Renaissance 14 theatre this morning at 10.  It's an one act opera by Richard Stauss.  It's unusual to see a sea of silver hair in a theatre at this location.  And afterwards we existed slowly, holding onto the handrails.  I told myself to be patient and just start practicing being slow as I will get there one of these days.  The opera is set at Jesus' time and it's the story of King Herold and John the baptist.  The production, however, uses modern costume and staging.  At first, I was very annoyed by that and couldn't reconcile the difference between time and space.  I began to realize later into the opera, the theme of human struggles around life and death, love and hate, lust and true passion, transcends time and space and the incongruence in the visual presentation and our intellectual expectation in fact accentuates the pull.  Another surprise, for me, is how avant-guard Strauss sounded.  You would think there would at least be some beautiful, waltz like, melodies here and there, given our normal association of his name with particular genre of music.  But not in this opera.  I thought they sounded pretty Shoenberg and the whole time I was waiting for some "regular" melody built on the "regular" 7-note major scale.  My ears were not tired though.  Not like when I listen to Shoenberg.  (I am sorry, but I really can't stand this man.)  The only "good guy" in the whole opera was, of course, John the baptist.  And it's only when he sang, I could hear some melody and it was quite a relief!!  I thought, hm...now it makes sense.  When the "bad guys" sing, there is dissonance and clashing chords and the music agonizes me.  When the "good guy" sings, you relax and you are even comforted.  That's it! I don't know if Mr. Strauss intended this dichotomy, but to me, that's a good enough reason.

Tomorrow is Sunday and in the afternoon I will have Bach rehearsal again.  I am traveling in time (backward though) with these great composers in a span of three short days.  What can I say! I love music and Life is good.

I Hate Fake stuff

It was suggested to me that I should attend some training sessions to get myself "certified" as a parenting class facilitator.  The affiliation with the county office of education  and the qualification to give out (Los Angeles county approved) certificates to parents who have completed the 6 classes, and hence qualified to "train" other parents, they believe, will become an asset for the development of their outreach ministry.  

For years I have resisted this concept of "training" volunteer parents to teach others how to be more effective parents.  I believe somethings you can train, but others you shouldn't want to train.  There are things in life that you just have to go through with a humble spirit and be transformed in the process.  Being a parent is one of these things.  I refuse to bring people false hope that by going  to these workshops/training sessions/whatnot, and by learning some "skills", that they will know how to be with their children.  I think the motivation behind a lot of the teachers, is they want to feel good that they hold the magic formula and they feel important when desperate parents come to them for help.  I was once like that without knowing.  And when the Lord revealed my own motivation behind the seemingly sacrificial offering of my time and knowledge, I was disgusted with myself.  But that revelation didn't come overnight.  I found that out about myself gradually, throughout the years when I was teaching nothing but parenting as a job.  

I think it's unethical now, (and I know this is kind of extreme to think this way) to advertise yourself as "trainer of parents" and the content of your program promising instant changes.  It feels like a crash diet commercial.  You do this and that for a month, and you will see results that you can boast of.  How can anyone learn anything in 2 days, or 6 sessions, about how to teach their kids right, (if there even is such a thing) and not even require a booster session or a refreshing course somewhere down the line? 

Parenting is about the relationship, in which who the parent is is more important than how many effective disciplinary methords he knows or uses.  The relationship is a function of who the people are and how they change.  I don't know this can be done in 6 sessions.

I hate all fake stuff.  Equal for real sugar, "creamer" for real cream, machine pieced quilt for hand sewn, baby formula for mother's milk, baby carrier for mother's bosom and father's arms and chest, etc.. Maybe I should go back to live in the 18th century. 

The Real Stuff of parenting is what most modern time parents won't do, because it requires them to give up themselves.  Give up their old ways of talking.  Give up their old ways of listening.  Give up their old ways of how they spend their time.  Give up their old way of looking at life.  Let alone give up their sleep, freedom to have uninterrupted meals, shopping trips and just plans in general.  It is almost political incorrect (oh, how I also hate this expression, as political correctness is more important than Truth.) to encourage mothers to stay home, to breastfeed and to submit to their husbands.  And then a few years later, they come to parenting classes, wondering what has gone wrong in their parent-child relationship!!

Good things take time to cultivate.  Good habits take time to form.  In a world of haste and speed and phoniness, true Beauty and goodness will be hard to find if we don't challenge these false beliefs that all goals can somehow be achieved instantly without sleepless nights of soul searching and without having to go through heartaches and headaches and disillusion and disappointments and hurt and despair and even hopelessness.  

I ask my Father to constantly remind me to not lose hope in my stubborn resistance to the World and its values.

And Can It Be That I Should Gain

And can it be that I should gain?

And can it be that I should gain?

I remember I once visited an older man who was diagnosed with some cancer and would not live long.  Asking visiting a few times, I felt I needed to ask him to receive Jesus as his saviour.  He told me, "it's not fair; I have been a good man all my life, and I am dying of cancer now! He is not a fair God, why would I believe in him?"  I told him, "No, it's not fair.  It's not fair at all!" He looked at me, with a question mark on his face.  I told him it's not fair, because why is it that I should gain eternal life when He died for my sin?  Why should I gain salvation because he gave up his life for me? I told him it really wasn't fair that all he needed to do was to receive him as his lord and saviour and all would be given to him.  I told him "you didn't do anything to deserve this...no, it's NOT fair.  And you are right."

Today in worship, that is the hymn we sang.  It has stuck with me.  How can it be that I should gain? 

I usually don't sing the doxology with the congregation.  I am always filled with thankfulness and awe and surprise and I simply can not open my mouth.  Week after week, I thank the Lord for giving me fresh experience during Sunday worship services.  It continues to bring life to me even after 36 years. 

On a quiet Sunday morning like today, I am remembering all of you who are worshipping him at different places all over the world.  Indeed He is worthy.

First rain this year and Bach

This is the fourth rehearsal for the Bach Mass in B minor.  I just LOVE Bach and feel like my soul is being combed every time I either sing, or play Bach.  I think this if not only with me.  As I walk out of the rehearsal hall, I can always hear people continue to want to sing..." Cum sancto spiritu" Our conductor Dr. Talberg said human minds crave order.  We want to make sense of the world.  When we look at the formless clouds, we naturally, even as child, want to put sense and meaning into what we see, "I think I see a dog..." and our brain likes to fill out the blanks.  I can't agree more with this.

After the rain, the air feels so fresh and there is a hint of Fall.  Marb and I want to be close, so we took a picture together. :-)

She now knows to fetch the ball and bring it up to table and drop it onto the paper I am reading.  Her message is very clear, "C'mon, don't read the paper any more! Play with me!!"

Had breakfast with my lady friends at this cafe called Nano :-) in Morovia.  It's an all American restaurant, like Goody's, except it's owned by two Chinese sisters.  We were there from 8 to 10, but by 9am, this place was already full with people waiting outside!  We sat at an outside table.  After the rain last night, it was perferct!  A little bit chilly, but we were happy.

ML and I went to see "Nights in Rodante" last night.  The whole theatre was quiet, and toward the end you started to hear sniffing and people blowing their noses.  We came out teary eyed too. :-)  We asked the pearl group ladies to all watch it and we will discuss the movie.  

Today is a very relaxing Saturday.

On Time

Even dust takes time to settle.

For everything that happens in our lives, there is our emotional responses to it.  like dust in our environment, we usually are not aware of our emotions until they are stirred up.  Once stirred up,  it takes time to settle, and they may not land at the "right" place.  Once stirred up, our emotions need time to settle too, and they also don't always "land" at where they are supposed to belong.

But how are we doing in terms of taking time to let our emotions settle? And do we make sure they "land" at the right places? 

For fear, we need to find security.  For loneliness, we need to find frienship.  For sadness, we need to find tears.  For happiness and joy, we need to find a buddy to share.  For anger, we need  to find what's behind and beneath.  For hatred, we need to find forgiveness.  And the list can go on.

But imagine, if you don't have time to let them all settle, and find their places.  they are everywhere, and you suffocate or you explode to pieces.  People around you get hurt, and you get hurt too.  

Or, if you don't know what they are and therefore can't find the "right" place for them to land.  Say if you think you feel lonely, when in fact you are afraid. You go out to find friends to chase away lonely feelings, but fear is still there, floating in the air; no place to land, still seeking to get your attention.  You think you are angry, when in fact you are hurt and sad.  You seek revenge, or outlet for your anger to "land" but your sadness is still lurking in the corners of your heart and you don't feel "settled" at all, even after an anger outburst and your friends, including yourself, find you unreasonable.  

I was talking to Richard, my mentor, and for something he said, I was feeling a lot of emotions but I didn't know what they were and I became quiet for a while.  He caught them fleeting, exclaiming "Look at all those emotions on your face!" I felt embarrassed.  He saw something in me that I didn't.  I tried to explain, as if seeing rainbow after the rain, he cried, "there's a different emotion on your face now!!"  I told him we are just friends, and I wasn't really in a mood to be "diagnosed" so I didn't ask him to clarify.  I also think my pride had a lot to do with me not wanting to know more about myself. :-)

I have been humbled again and again lately by the dominance of the swiftness of time and how limited we are, bound by time.  

A wise person invests his time in answering to the single calling from his Maker.  Nothing else matters.

Yoko thinks, "Hm....what is my calling? Be her watch dog?"