Cultural Buffet

The "Cultural buffet" is my new observation about being in America. It refers to the multi-scenes of human interaction in this huge land.

I am offered an unlimited pass to enjoy this cultural buffet. It is my choice to accept or reject certain things since they are all in the buffet, huge in quantity and varying in quality.

I am observing myself reacting to this buffet. I have to control my appetite, and too much of it can spoil each unique taste while too little will not satisfy my curiosity.

TAN

What will happen?

What will happen if I follow my passion(s)?

I expect several open-ended answers. First, I would guarantee that I would pay attention to what I am doing since they are my passions and my passions have sophisticated reasons behind them.

Also, I would cope with all the challenges with a different set of mind. I would see all the opportunities that I could embrace. My mind would have wings and my heart would beat with joy.

I would realize the deep potential in me or try to dig deeper in order to release my true potential instead of having a social struture set an agenda for me. I would create my personal journey where passion would lead me to places that I might not know before.

I would be present with a joyful heart. Since I would not have any reasons left to lie to myself that there would be something else awaiting. I chose my trail and would be sure to enjoy the steps.

I would wake up every day with a deep sense of gratitude towards my surroundings, towards life and the ability to follow my passion. Then,I might perhaps be able to leave the world a bit better than I arrived. Or I might leave a legacy for young people to follow. In that case, life is worth living when you realize your passion (s), so you should work and walk toward that.

If you want to know what would happen if you follow your passion, then try to do that.

TAN

Nomad

I feel antsy; to be specific, I feel like a nomad.

My dream(s) are interrupted and they are calling me now. One of those dreams is to travel - to Latin America, Europe, Africa and other parts of the world, but only my imagination can take me there right now. My spirit keeps wandering back and forth between dreams and reality. My deeper desire is not only to see different places but to feel entirely different about life and its meaning.

My nomad spirit is probably nurtured by the feeling that I am on my way home, and I would like to make sure that I see the world enough before returning home again.

I am yearning to grow wiser and yearning to become a better person so that I can be anywhere with my roots more grounded.

TAN

Nature is so loudly quiet.

There are endless different sounds that I hear from walking gently in the forest. They are the invitation sounds to my solitude, the reflective sounds leading to the various beats of my journey, the inspiring sounds to explore my dream(s), the universal sounds that all humans can connect to, and the sounds of deep silence that surprisingly is very loud.

It is loud and I can hear that clearly because I am ready to listen and nature stands still, inviting me to hear her language. I am not so sure what language it is. It is another sign language that you can hear powerfully when you walk quietly into the forest.

Walk, be quiet, listen, reflect and you will find out so many answers from the unanswered questions in life.

TAN

Take A Leap

Writing, to me, is about taking a leap from tumultuous and interrupted fantasies into a convincing set of words that can shock and change the world. Writing (a second language) is one of the hardest and also hard-earned skills that stubborn people keep pursuing. After years of practice, some people create a masterpiece and can claim a "writer's status" while others are still shy and struggle to find sophisticated words, perhaps until his or her final breath.

I am stubborn and will put myself into the latter group.

Writing, to me, is therapeutic, and it fills the empty spaces with the sacred and lonely world of words. Words often follow me, but good thoughts or great ideas often sleep or take a sabbatical, somewhere. On a lucky and happy day, I can manage to match random words with brilliant ideas well. The truth is that the majority of my days, recently, don't always allow me to achieve at least a bit of what I would like to be able to write.

Writing, to me, is another form of communication to the world outside me. Whether the communication is successful or not is another subject to be discussed. This form of communication takes a quantum leap of faith to be successful. I stumble and stagger when writing, as my words, sometimes unclear, jump up and down like little kids bouncing on a trampoline. I don't know whether switching to write in my native language (Thai) would solve this puzzle. I am not sure whether my second language command is sharper than my native tongue. I have to find ways to communicate this mystery.

Writing, to me, is about taking a great leap, starting from an undisclosed and unscrutinized set of words in my crazy mind to set up a stage or pattern, a stage where those words are organized to become a new surprisingly good discourse when it is well done. (and I must admit, two shots of a dark Espresso really helps).

I think of writing as taking a great leap because it takes me years and years to finally decide to write. To sit down and work my way, putting all of those naughty words into a sentence, like layering each brick to build a mud house.

TAN

The World (in me), Part 2

Life with different shades of experience is worth exploring and embracing. The world in me, in this chapter, is full of great and unexpected memories, yet is always sweet at the end of my tongue.

I will start to summarize my experience from the present and go backwards to when I first arrived this country. This journey is sacred and has an endless magic.

Today, in fact, was one of the best days of this year. I took my ESL class for a field trip at Eastern Market, in northeast DC. My world was reflective as soon as I let the students start their journey. I waved good-bye to them and reminded them to complete their tasks and enjoy the journey. Thirteen of them made me think of my own life in exploring this world.

Metaphorically, I summarized my few years of living here in America, and the students voiced my summary this afternoon. They did not know or plan to do that. Somehow I started to make a connection.

I started to make a connection with my students' lives. Maria and Jose work at a fast food restaurant, from 5:30 a.m. to 11 p.m. everyday. They make minimum wage, living an unnegotiated life but are forced to continue. Since the future is unknown, it is better to be in the present and adjust to it than not doing anything. Siti told me that if I am happy with what I am doing, that when I die, I will go to heaven! Carlos, Maria, Yesania and Daniel really enjoyed seeing people from all over the world, at the market. Ovidio reported that he practiced English a little but he was happy to go out and do different things. Roberto ran to a Salvadorian restaurant to get his afternoon snack and I reminded him to practice English. Jose spoke very limited English but put a great effort in trying to answer my questions. I really enjoyed all of the small dialogue that I had with each of them and, to be honest, what really mattered is that their confidence and comfort level of being in this English-speaking country increased, bit by bit, day by day.

Now back to my life. It is chunks of my experience that sometimes have discouraged me from seeing the big and wonderful picture of each step that I leave with my footprints here, in the American dirt. But those chunks can be a test, like the basic class for my adult students at Eastern Market.

After being, among other things, a baker, a social worker at a family shelter, and a Program Director at a non-profit in D.C., I can look back and appreciate the strengths and the weaknesses that I have faced. I cannot go back, can only move forward with a newer, greater sense of appreciation that life is, indeed, composed of a sacred journey with twists and turns.

The most important thing is that I am still alive, healthy, happy and I will keep reflecting on this everyday sacred journey.

TAN

The World (in me)- Part 1

My first day in America made me dizzy, annoyed and unbalanced. Even though we stayed at my husband's sister's nice house with her great family in Princeton, N.J., that didn't help me from feeling disoriented.

My mind was not present at all. I was in search of something ... far, unknown and unattainable.

That was about three and a half years ago. This trip of mine in the U.S. has somehow become one of the best experiential learning experiences of living, working, being, thinking, observing, feeling and eating in the land of freedom, rights and liberty.

For a part-time immigrant like me, this experience has been both joyful and stressful.

First of all, it is stressful because I am trying to seek an unidentified source of support which I can't identify. At times, I have not been happy with things, people and myself. In those chaotic moments, I could always find negative sides to blame. I tended to embrace the dark corners more than celebrating an adventurous new life in America.

In April 2006, I started to run. I remembered vividly that I decided to dump "that" depression. I was so tired with my unhealthy attitude and I wanted to start all over again. I needed a new beginning.

I called my co-worker who is a marathon runner. I asked her about the best place to buy a running shoe and what kind of shoe would best suit me. She nicely explained everything to me and I felt that beautiful support. I left my work at the homeless shelter in the afternoon, and with my husband, bought my first pair of running shoes. The next day I left my apartment early and ran as far (and perhaps fast) as I could on my first day. It was only one mile. It was my best run. My mind started to open up naturally. It was a symbolic run for me.

I was so HAPPY. It was not about the mile that I ran. It was more of the replenishing of the loss of my mind. I slowly woke up from the depression.

My frustration of trying to adjust into the new country (new water) was replaced by the sweat, the soreness, and the endless joy of counting the miles, the solitude when running, the fresh air that I breathed in when running along Lake Champlain, the new level of being healthier, feeling better about myself, and seeing another side of life. Things seemed clearer after running.

It was a great solid six months of running before I went astray and didn't really catch up with running. This was the worst part of me and I am working on getting back to that "track" habit again.

Three years and a half is quite a long journey that constantly brought me not only stressful moments to complain about but also lots of joyful times to cherish. I will write about those joyful times in my next blog entry.

The "world" in me, now, is the one that will keep changing and shredding. It will certainly go uphill and downhill and up again.

TAN

Can A Burrito Walk?

I couldn't believe that I asked my students this question. "Class, can a burrito walk?" Before any student in the class could shout out an answer, they all shouted at once. All of a sudden, they said, "Can a burrito walk?" I acted like a burrito, the best I could, by making my fingers into a walking burrito.

I didn't know what was actually happening, but I knew for sure that they would remember this example forever and that they probably would have started to play with the language as I was trying to model it. I was challenging my class with this simple imaginative trick. I was using an everyday object as a real life example in the classroom. The students could connect to the "walking Burrito" with cheerful laughter.

I know that, at least half of the class will remember that the Burrito is, in fact, a noun and not a verb!

I was trying to introduce a set of useful phrases to my Spanish-speaking students. One of the sentences was, "Is this (word) a noun or a verb?" For the basic level students, I was doubtful that the question would be too hard for them. However, I was going to try to introduce it anyway. I was weighing the great benefit of introducing this sentence and encouraging the students to try to use it in order to gain better command and confidence at using a language to learn a language.

I am not sure how I came up with such a funny example. The only thing that I know is that if you are in sync with the context and find the right flow, excellent examples will be generated naturally.

I am searching for a great flow in America and the incubation of great ideas. I am waiting for something that is similar to my walking Burrito in my ESL classroom.

Can a burrito walk?

TAN

How are you, TOMORROW?

There are still hundreds of reasons why I love being in an Adult ESL classroom. The top reasons are that the classroom experience is so unique, refreshing, and heart-warming every day.

One of my Spanish-speaking students from the Honduras, in my Basic English class, asked me "how are you, tomorrow?" The question was followed by his big smile and a big laugh from the class. My face turned red and laughed with the class because the question was so simple yet sophisticated.

At that moment, I was not at all thinking of the answer. I was not trying to correct his English. I called out his name, 'Roberto" and said with my cheerful voice, "you are so creative!!!!" He laughed but my laughter was deeper. I didn't know how I ended the lesson that day.

This led to one of my musings about life in America, "how many people (here) will read between the lines, will open up to the unfamiliar, will extend their flexibility to the inaccuracy of language and seek to understand the intention of the second language speaker?" (Not) to my surprise, there are more people who are quick to make an assumption and judge than people who will ask questions and gain a bit of wisdom.

I am not trying to defend second language English speaking people. I am trying to create a dialogue to push people to go deeper than they think they can.

Roberto asked me his next question, "Teacher? Can I say that? Why cannot I say that? I want to say that, teacher ... I want to say that....!"

He smiled when he asked all of those questions. I knew him enough to know that he doesn't really need me to answer. He needs me to hear that he can express himself and if the listener has trouble trying to follow him, then perhaps, sometimes, it is o.k -- not the end of the world --not the breakdown of anything serious.

My student just wanted to play with the language which he will have to use in this country. He and I are in the same context, I just happen to have better command of English than he does, but we are on the same pace in this world. We are trying to gain acceptance to our new country. We struggle but we will be O.K. I have to figure out how I will be TOMORROW.

Roberto already invited me to play with Basic English and this is a heart-warming experience for me.

Thanks, Roberto.

TAN

An Emergency Room and Tiger Balm!

I was in an emergency room at Sibley hospital on Thursday, September 4, 2008. It was my first hospital visit and it was beautifully challenging.

Before I left Thailand in June 2005, my brother-in-law gave me a dozen bottles of Tiger balm. He emphasized that, "these are very good. They could save your life." I smiled at that Thai wisdom and grabbed all of them, stowing them away in a suitcase.

Indeed, these bottles (of tiger balm) traveled far and became my "cannot live without objects" in America. They are both comforting and soothing for me. Even if I don't feel any pain or soreness, I use tiger balm anyway. I use it to remind me of home. It is a form of deep connection for me, for a person who is far away from her native land.

Entering my fouth year in America, I had a real purpose to use tiger balm. On Wednesday night, I felt a sudden sharp pain in my lower right rib. It lasted for about two hours. I was alone at that time, without knowing what it could be, but my instinct led to my rubbing in with the magic tiger balm. I ran to the shelf and grabbed the one that was half-left from our bike trip from a month ago. It worked for about eight hours. I half slept with a strong wonderful tiger balm smell.

Next morning, I woke up with a less severe level of pain. I informed my husband about what happened last night and he urged me to go to the Emergency Room for a check up. I thought it was not a bad idea, but still wanted to try to go to work.

I arrived at the office with a very pale look on my face, and my co-worker and my boss insisted that I should go to the hospital and get a check up. I finally headed out in my boss's car and got registered at the Emergency Room in the next hour.

My treatment included blood tests, x-rays and they hooked me up to an IV with a pain killer. I looked at the surroundings in the hospital with a sense of respect for the nurses, doctors and patients. Our body and our mind interplay with each other. While an x-ray technician pushed me on the bed to the x-ray room, I told myself that everything would be o.k, and that whatever happened would happen.

My husband tried to comfort me and I felt very happy to be close to my love. After about two hours, the doctor (who was in Thailand in the 1980's) came to me and shared the results. Things were negative which meant that there was no suspected disease or bad things going on. I felt a big relief.

The doctor asked me one question that eventually filled the room with laughter. He was curious, and asked me, "what did you take last night to help you sleep?"

"TIGER BALM," I said proudly.

"I should have known. I was in Thailand."

After a few hours in an emergency room, I felt much more grateful to be healthy and alive again.

I cannot underestimate the power of Tiger Balm, a great souvenir that my family gave to me before traveling, because it could "save my life." Everything has a connection - a web of life. Objects, people, happiness, sickness and gratefulness need a comforting place to grow and be healthy.

TAN

Living (here) Temporarily

I have been in America since June 2005. First, I lived in a two-bedroom apartment in Burlington, Vermont. Then, I moved to a one-bedroom in Glover Park, D.C. Next month, I will move to a studio in the Woodley Park area, which is only a 10-minute walk from work. All of the downsizing concepts occured organically, without a clear plan, but I hope this will turn out to be a good move for my husband and me.

When I was looking for an apartment, I was seeking a green space, a nice balcony, a short walk to work, a connection to the bike path, a good neighbourhood (safety), and lastly, a place near the metro. I found all of it. Nothing is perfect, though. It is both smaller and more expensive than any place that I have lived.

I appreciate the fact that life always has plus and minus sides. We are here temporarily. I have no complaints.

Moving is a beautiful prompt that helps me eliminate stuff that I don't actually need. It is a very interesting process to look at your own stuff that you have accumulated over the years. This stuff has claimed a certain significance at a particular time. Three years later, much of this stuff has almost lost its meaning, and is honestly not useful to me anymore. Things break or go out of date. I have accumulated newer stuff and found a noveau purpose for different things.

I want to define a way to live life healthily and with more balance, and I realize that, in fact, I need only a few things.

The whole weekend was devoted to decluttering our living space, making a trip to the Salvation Army, and cleaning the floor and suitcases. At the same time, I am learning to clean my mind deeply. I have more space to breathe clearly, feel a bit emptier and also happier.

There are tons of books, both used and new magazines, articles, posters, brochures, and newletters that I occasionally have grabbed from various places. They make great souvenirs from my trips. After some time, I am learning to diversify and glean certain things (what I have mentioned above) and put them into my writing immediately, using them, thinking about them, discussing them with people and trying not to stack them up in a tiny living space any more.

Fortunately, I will not be able to do that as the new place has a limited square number of feet and I have to use extreme caution on what I really want to keep. (Imagine that there are two people in s studio that is best designed for one person and they are both pack rats).

This will be very exciting and challenging for me (us).

My new studio apartment will again be temporary. It doesn't matter how long or how short I will be there. It is a sacred space where I will continue to live with less material, more thoughts, and live with a stronger purpose and with a more vibrant, empty, and quiet life (with a very short walk to work, which makes my heart sing joyfully).

Go green habitat,

TAN

Ramen , Pho and Pad-Thai

All of these noodles are the most nostaglic food for me.

Over the last few weeks, I ate, cooked and reheated them every other day. They are not only delicious but long and tasty. I cannot resist them.

It is not helpful to think of the authentic taste of the above dishes which I can find in Thailand. There are a few good D.C. shops that serve a decent Ramen, Pho and Pad-Thai.

Every meal, my focus is to enjoy the noodle moment as the broth, vegetables, meat and long noodles keep me engaged in every bowl. I have developed a special relationship with a Pad-Thai seller at a Chinese restaurant on P Street. I feel more mindful when I order these dishes and try to really taste the hidden ethnic flavor in each bowl. I love the sacred time when I eat Asian dishes. I feel like having a casual dialogue with my high school friends. I love the flavor and the nuances, which are inevitably good.

The chopsticks bring me the flow of soothing food for my stomach and my soul.

I love Ramen, Pho and Pad-Thai

TAN

WE ARE ONLY HUMAN

I read a poem by Mary Jo Bang, and my spirit is lifted, my breathe is sweeter, and I love to live my life once again.

Here is one of my favorites:
----------------------------

WE ARE ONLY HUMAN

Nighttime amnesia.
The dream becoming
Cartoonish and mint-sequined.

A caboose climbing an emerald hill.
Daily we tend the garden.
Daily we weave

Our lashes like little flags
In a cordial wind. I? Who isn't
Ever I in a circular now.

The toothbrush is ready.
The mouth comes to meet it.
Life begins and goes on.

The fall is always waiting.
We're the alwasys drifting above.

by Mary Jo Bang

----------------

Facebooked

Everyone(who is younger than 40 years old) who I know of at least has a Facebook page, including my husband (well, he is 42, but who's counting?) Wait, am I old school or what? I don't have Facebook.

"You don't have Facebook?" one of my husband's friends asked me in a joking tone, yet I felt weird to tell him the reality.

"No, I don't."

I felt embarassed and hesitated to share with friends or acquaincetances that I don't have a Facebook page. Such an old-school person like me, refusing to be on a network or be connected, be seen, be known of, or on another level, refusing to follow the current trend.

Hey, wait a minute ... I am blogging. I have a public journal. I am not completely old or old school. I select very carefully on what trend I would like to follow.

I have to admit that, being in a fast-paced technology-driven society, you have to be firm and strong on what kind of technology will facilitate your life, and not create an embrassing experience. Learn from technology and use it well to serve your purposes. I don't think you should struggle to keep pace with everything that is out there.

I am a Blogger, not a Facebooker.

TAN

People with Perceptions

On a late Friday afternoon this summer, I came to another conclusion (not new) that so many aspects in our lives are shaped by the people around us. To be specific, it doesn't mean that my thinking is influenced by other people's thinking, but that other people's opinions and thoughts provoke me to investigate the untapped section of my thinking.

For example, I read a blog from one of my American friends, who is a World Teach volunteer and serving in America Samoa in the South Pacific. She described in one of her blog entries that "the situation over there, like everything else on the island, is subject to change without notice..." Well, it is similar to Thailand. I am not at all surprised by the island perspective. I love that. However, I am surprised at myself that I have a reaction to that sentence now.

I'm not against that at all, but I do feel like I am an Islander in the big metro city.

As I observe my American life, I think "what would happen if things changed without notice." How would people react to that? Why cannot there be a different way of thinking, so that things will not necessary fall into traditional expectations? How much more time do we need to be informed and ready for change? How deep or silly will the discussion on the street be?

People, their thoughts, and their perceptions are stimulating to me. I grew up in a "change without notice!" zone (Thailand) but am now trying to live in a very systematic, rule-oriented world (USA). It is fun to juggle my own perceptions and find the right rhythm.

People and their perceptions excite me constantly.

TAN

Why do we travel?

I woke up on Sunday morning with the aforementioned question, "why do we travel?"

I dreamt of returning to Thailand and setting up a writer's center in my mom's hometown, Kalasin. The dream was sharp and the awakening from that prompted me to think of the human(and my own)journey.

I am yearning to go as far as I can in order to, finally, return to my (mom's) land to reconnect with my native roots, to reacquaint my soul with my childhood memories, to shred all of the toxic waste, to grow with clearer wisdom, to age with a much more refined spirit, to forgive myself and others, to give back to the land and people who I once belonged to, to live an engaging but simplistic life, to seek balance, to keep asking questions, and live my life twice.

When I was 22, I thought that traveling would be a path that would answer all of my questions. I was young and intrepid at that time. My thought was only partially right. Fourteen years after that, I have come to understand that my life journey generates more questions than giving me the answers I want to know. I never thought of that when I was young. I believed that the trip was a stage to help me form my inquisitive mind. Older now, and a bit wiser, I see the interesting paradox of travel.

In every journey, I travel with wonder and questions. I often end up with one or two answers at the end of each journey and also come up with several more questions.

That is why I travel.

TAN

Keep it Brief

Grief is deep. She is.
I found her yesterday.
Uninvited, unattended,
She brings pain.

Keep grief brief, really.
Her voice is truly powerful.
Her shape is sharp.
She offers tears, to my soul.

Grief is deep. With her twin,
I almost collapsed in her hands.
I was stunned, in silence.
She invites deep pain, beautifully.

Keep grief brief. Yes.
She brought the water to my eyes, both eyes.
She had a painful dialogue with me, briefly
I rebreathed as she left.

Keep grief brief.

TAN

Haiku from Bike Trip

Here it is;

A Chaotic life,
A pristine bike ride
is a nice paradox

TAN

Pedal, Peace and the Power of Silence

Last week, my husband and I took a bike trip vacation, along the C&O canal, which runs a total of 184 miles from Georgetown to Cumberland, MD. The trip was well-planned but the weather didn't permit us to complete the whole 184 miles in a few days; I almost completed it, just over 70 miles short of finishing the trail. For me, it was magic not to finsh it this time, for I have the next bike trip to pedal.

The change of plans didn't upset me at all; instead, I felt totally elated by our physical stamina, our creative ideas on dealing with the changes of location and our minds ... the remnant of miles to complete is an organic gift to look forward to in the future.

Most important of all, I found my new passion, the Spirit of Silence. During my first 30 miles of biking, the surrounding nature was shadowed by the complete quietness of the forest. I could hear the trees breathing. I could absorb the flow of the canal into my flow of thoughts. There was an exact moment when my two tiring legs kept pedaling, and my heart and my mind was focused seriouly on "the moment." It happened naturally without forcing, without even thinking of trying to focus. There was no meditation involved. It was pure and simple "silence." I immediately felt in love with its spirit.

While pedaling, the body exerted energy to move the bike along the splendid canal, and my monkey mind was tamed by nature, the classic teacher. It was a complete paradox for me since I saw myself moving forward to the next mile, that my mind could be so still from the power of silence.

I am biking on the endless miles of bikepath and learning to embrace the spirit of silence, be at the moment and keep pedaling.

TAN

Wearing your passion will take you far

I believe that passion can lead my way into good work and a great life, and I will live a relatively healthy life, if not the most successful one, but at least, the most productive one, because of passion.

First let me talk about good work.

My passion often pushes me to look for tasks that inspire me. I realize that I enjoy teaching English to immigrants in DC when I am in the classroom and facilitate language learning. My heart grows bigger when the students ask me questions or when the students try to figure out the right answer to a question I've asked them. I slowly help them discover the answers by themselves.

Passion to me is a stream of continual inspiration. It works especially well when it presents a paradoxical theme. I am a Thai woman, leading an organization that teaches English to adult immigrants. I love this paradox, and am aware of it all the time. I never dreamed I would be doing this. A few years ago, I was in a quiet house next to the mountains and rice fields in Northern Thailand.

Reading, listening, watching, observing, and thinking about life over the past ten years, I am willing and able to blend my passion(s) into principle(s) deeper and deeper. I can stand firm and say, "yes" when I really feel "yes" or say, "no" when it is worth the "no." I can gradually idealize what to include in a purposeful good life. That is, I will eliminate extra stuff that I don't really need in life and steer my focus into what I need to do, to be and to have.

One of the things that I need to have in order to maintain a healthy and purposeful life is "passion." I have experienced hundreds of examples that show me the power of passion, and I'm sure it will carry me (and my life) as long as I would like to go. I am sure it will do the same in your life.

Celebrate your passion.

TAN

P.S. In my next blog entry, I will write about the passion in my personal life.

Happiness and/or Success

For the travel-minded person like me, the terms "happiness" and/or "success" almost blur or appear ambiguous, especially when I am in a foreign land. To my surprise, I find it very challenging to say that, "I am happy," or "I feel success."

I challenge myself to define or redefine the meaning of happiness and/or success.

I have a roof over my head. I can pay the rent. I am relatively healthy. I am married to a very good person. I have a meaningful job (running an ESL program for low-income immigrants in DC). I have a good education. I am in well-functioning families (my Thai and American ones). I have good friends. I enjoy a rich world of literacy. I drink strong, good cups of coffee! I go out and bike in the forest. I have vacation days that I can take off to do anything or go anywhere that I would like to. I live with hope, strong faith and big dreams. I am introverted and reflective. I am conscious of doing good thing(s) in the world. I am proud of who I am. I.......

Yet, I am not confident when I say, "I am happy," or," I feel successful." I must be crazy or naive. Maybe I am immature in this process?

What does happiness mean? Where is success? How do you know that this is "happiness?" When do you feel that "success" is here?

For a travel-minded person, the answers to all of those quests is part of the pursuit of happiness and success. That is, I am bound to a still and quiet state of mind to really clear all of the confusion. I am waiting for the moment(s) when I can stop this wondering mind and start to glean the real definition of happiness and success in this unanswered journey.

For endless happiness and success, I have to suffer more.

TAN

Choices, Changes and Goals

I find myself hooked with these words - choices, changes and goals. I am trying to think of the reasons why they make my heart beat fast.

I have fond memories of the past and of making decisions in life, work, education, activities, places to travel, what to eat, which clothes to wear, what books to read and much more ... I have always had a similar pattern of decision-making no matter where I was, Bangkok or DC. I have remained selective and make choices consciously. Now, I have made the choice of being in DC with my husband and working with immigrants from around the world.

As I grew up, the decision-making process kept getting more complicated as the changing process became a prominent part (or influence) in my choices. That is, as I got older, my diet and exercise choices were always being carefully selected and screened. As I realized that life was precious, even sweet and short due to life's changes, I had to accept that change eventually leads to an expansion or limitation of choices. I am happy with this.

My goals have become examples of my change in choices. When I was young (younger than now), I always set or had goals in my life (personal and professional). But as I got older, I asked myself, "what will happen if I don't have goals? Can I live without having them? Will I still be the kind of person who I would like to be?"

With the appreciation of change, I am making a choice of not having goals for now.

I will enjoy living my life in America with a flexible sense of choice and change.

That is my goal.

TAN

Live your dream

The present is a precious time. It is now that we should live our dream.

I went to the Sixth and I Synagogue with my husband to listen to a passionate man and his idealistic passage to save the environment. John Francis was the speaker and he did "22 years of walking and 17 years of silence." I don't plan to write about the details of his talk in this blog (if you really want to know about him, I am sure you can search for his story pretty easily.)

His talk stimulated our thoughts. His gentle voice echoed with the rhythm of my dream.

What is my dream?

My husband told me that his dream is to set up a Writer's Retreat in Thailand. It is a life-long powerful project. He told me that I have to realize my dream.

I looked at the red light at the busy intersection at Chinatown in DC. I stopped in order to answer his provocative question.

"My dream is to help other people realize their dreams."

After I said that, I heard John Francis tell me again and again in silence, "Live your dream."

Thanks John,

TAN

Chaotic Consciousness

I came up with a term, "chaotic consciousness," as part of my observation of the immigrant life in America. In fact, it is an observation of my own life.

My third year in America is approaching in a month and I don't really know what to feel. Is it just another year? Do I actually feel better acquainted with "American culture?" Do I choose to be who I am or try to be who I "don't" think that I am?

I am asking both sensible and nonsensible questions of myself. My mood is shifting from a great appreciation of having a chance to work and live abroad and feeling very lonely and homesick. This is a part of merging in this social context in which many of the people here come from other parts of the world as well.

There is a constant flow of chaos and I am aware of this. Someday, I wake up with a renewed sense of energy, and on other days I wish to be in a fresh market in Thailand.

I always live with more than one perspective and that means I have chaotic consciousness in my world.

TAN

Grumpy Immigrant

Waking up every morning, my mind wonders to the Far East, Thailand.

I see myself as a grumpy immigrant. I like this title.

Without passport or air tickets, the mind travels back endlessly to one's native soil. It also travels back to America before I know it (and runs away before I know it as well).

This thing called, "mind" that jumps back and forth from place to place, with no destination and no conclusion. I keep breathing and breathing, and still find myself tangled in the grumpiness. Someday, I just want to go to another country ... not Thailand, not America, but another world somewhere.

I am not totally happy in America.

I don't mean that I am always happy in Thailand. I guess it is a separate issue.

I don't intend to criticize anything, anywhere, or anyone. I am just easily grumpy in America. That is, I find myself feeling moody easily ...

When things don't turn out the way I would like them to be.

When I have to choose between a million kinds of apples in the supermarket, when I just want an apple!

When I order a tall Cappucino at Starbucks and realize that, with that money, I could buy three plates of pad-thai in Thailand.

When I can't find pants that fit me. They are either too tight or too loose.

When I couldn't afford to bring the unfitted pants to the tailor.

When Ihave a weird appetite (I eat all the time), because I never feel "full."

When I put on extra pounds in the cold season for my body to stay warm (and I can't find any pants that fit me).

When I have to work full-time in order to maintain financial stability to be proud of myself (I am not sure what I mean by this statement).

When I want to travel abroad but don't have the money and time to do so (someday, I will break this cycle and just travel).

When I have to answer the same set of questions (Where are you from? How long have you been here? Do you miss Thailand? ... and of course, what is your name?)

When people ask for my name and immediately forget that!

When I am completely silent in my thoughts because I am so exhausted speaking a foreign language.

And I can keep listing more things in America that bother me because I am a grumpy immigrant.

TAN

Outside the Box?

Courage ... how much courage do you need in order to push your boundaries, to decide to do something that, you probably know, is not your "typical" favorite activity? It is not easy to choose what is not your "typical" choice.

For example, if I have to choose between going out for an Indian buffet or going out to see an horror movie., my choice is to fill my stomach with ethnic food of course, and not filling my wondering mind with more terrifying things. Who wants to have a nightmare tonight?

To my surprise, recently, I was testing myself to push my boundaries.

My husband wanted to see a Japanese monster movie, "Gojira"(Godzilla) at the Japanese Cultural Center. Gojira didnt' really capture my immediate attention. Gojira puzzled me. I kept thinking, "why does he like to see that kind of movie?" Gojira would never be my typical top choice of movie to watch.

I kept asking myself, "how much courage do I need to watch a monster movie with my husband, after a long day at work?" Well, I didn't really know. I would give myself a chance to watch Gojira. If worse came to worse, I could just sleep at the theater.

We arrvied at the Japanese Cultural Center in the early evening. I told my husband that I would give this a try. I would like to earn the feeling of, "doing something outside the box."

78 minutes passed by. The audience's laughter filled the theater. The 1950's special effects of the movie reminded me of the first time my dad took me to see, "King Kong," in the theater in Bangkok when I was around 10 years old. Gojira worked as a symbol of the impact of the atomic bomb. The young scientist in the movie who invented the oxygen destroyer capsule really impressed me with his idealism to save the world. The aftermath scenes after Gojira destroyed Tokyo was like a current scene in Iraq after America attacked.

All of the above imaginative visuals were not my typical outlet to appreciate this diverse world. However, I left the theater with a new found appreciation of thousands of exotic things.

Gojira and my courage worked so well tonight.

I was able to remove a monster out of my typical mind and concluded that in order to be or to feel atypical, you need to be able to "do things outside the box."

Good night, Gojira

TAN

Tough lesson

A tough lesson is a great lesson after quiet reflection.

I experienced the extreme coldness of winter for the first time in Burlington, Vermont, in October 2005. At that time, I was not only a fish in new water, moving from an extremely hot country to the cold season in New England, but a fish in cold water. I almost froze to death.

One dark evening, I walked from one shelter to another shelter (my workplaces), and all my five fingers on my right hand-side felt like they were about to fall off. My whole body was numb. The cold and breezy wind blew heavily, and I was wearing only a few shirts and a thin coat. I ran to Dunkin Donuts and soaked in the heat. In my mind, I screamed to myself, "Why am I here (in America)? Why didn't Ben (my husband) tell me what to wear? Why didn't he prepare me for this? Why do I have to work at night? Why and why??!"

There were no answers.

At any rate, I was too depressed to understand and accept the way things were. My adjustment was very difficult. I gradually developed an unhealthy attitude toward everything, even though that it is not my usual character and I did not want to be like that. I was a different person than who I perceived myself to be in Thailand.

When you are in the dark, it is really difficult to see the light. And at that point, I could not see it. I had to live through it, and reflect, before I could truly appreciate it.

An old Persian proverb that I learned later has this to say: "When it is dark enough, you can see the stars."

Now, winter cannot scare me anymore. I have not suffered at all during my first winter in Washington DC. It is nothing compared to the Vermont winter. Still, my co-workers here complain about the cold. I must say that they don't know what "cold" really means.

I learned all of the necessary tricks to deal with the cold now. My body has developed a better response to the cold. For example, my skin doesn't become as chapped as it used to be that first winter. My attitude has improved as I have learned how to dress, drink, live, and breath properly.

I appreciate the toughest lesson and I believe that in every single fiber of toughness hides a single, gentle thread that shows us the greatness of life, of appreciation, and of the discovery of the bright stars. Thank you Vermont and your endless, beautiful snow.

This is what I believe.

TAN

Sidamo

I counted the brochures, articles and coffee packages that I have collected since 2001 - anything about coffee, and to my excitement, I have kept over 60 of these. (Is this passion and/or addiction?)

In that collection,there is one African ethnic-based brochure that always strikes my attention. It is from Green Mountain Coffee Roasters in Vermont. The brochure is about the special reserve coffee from the remote community of Shanta Golba in the Sidamo region of Ethiopia. It is the first time that I knew of the name Sidamo.

I went to Sidamo today, not the area in Ethiopia but the 14- month old Ethiopian Coffee house in the northeast area of Washington, DC. Sidamo is an up-and-coming unique coffee house. You can find its story from many publications in this area.

The Green Mountain brochure depicts both the geographical area where the coffee beans blossom and a drawing of the traditional way that villagers hand-roast and grind the bean in the morning, making a fresh strong cup for everyone. The coffee stimulates various exchanges of daily life - community check-ins about work, marriage, farming and everthing else. In that picture, an Ethiopian woman who wears a long, white traditional dress, sits on a low stool, roasting green coffee beans on a small ground-level stove. On her right -hand side, she also has a mortar and pestle to grind the roasted beans.

The description on the picture says, "Ethiopians use an elaborate coffee ceremony to welcome guests and show friendship and respect. The ceremony, which can last a few hours, begins with the careful washing of the coffee bean. The beans are then roasted over a stove until they are black, releasing a familiar aroma that mingles with ceremonial incense. In some parts of the country, this ceremony takes place three times a day and is the village's main social event."

This afternoon, I saw this coffee ceremony live in DC, and this felt really peaceful and relaxing, especially when the coffee beans released their aroma. The smell was strong and earthy.

People from all walks of life gathered at the coffee shop this afternoon. This ceremony in fact is fast becoming the village main social event here on this H street neighbourhood in northeast Washington, DC.

The coffee ceremony is performed at Sidamo every Sunday afternoon, as a treat for the city dwellers to appreciate the way things are practiced in the old days and for us to take a moment to celebrate the journey back to where coffee originated. A quote from the traditional Ethiopian blessing, "where there is coffee, may there be peace and prosperity," sums up my day neatly.

I brought home a pound of Ethiopian coffee beans and hope to continue exploring the coffee process as a way to connect with the world and stimulate my deep caffeine addiction. Everyday, I am growing and brewing my usual custom, yet trying to seek new customs to taste over, to smell over again.

TAN

Japan!, Culture and Hyper Culture

The first sentence in the brochure for the performance Saturday night at the Kennedy Center read, "The poet and novelist Yoko Tawada is a writer of the world." This is a zen statement to me. I read that again with million smiles.

I cannot resist the tempation to see her performance at the Kennedy Center. I cannot resist the chance to absorb the intensity and the richness in the simplicity of the language of the world, the creative thoughts, of Yoko. I know there will be magic in her words.

The performance consisted of her poetry readings and Aki Takase provided the jazz piano as a background to set the tone and shape the mood. Language can go as deep as you can imagine. Thoughts can be as diversified as you have the language to express.

The poet Yoko has a distinctive voice and she continues to color the literary world with her works, which have lead numerous commentators to compare her to Franz Kafka. She is native Japanese but has spent more than 20 years in Germany and writes both Japanese and German.

The natural merging of different cultures generates a vibrant fabric of words in the world.

I was very impressed by her thoughts described in a collection of essays from 2002, in which Tawada describes the experience of "exophony," a term she has coined for travelling outside of the circle of one's mother tongue, which is akin to giving oneself over to strange music. Exophony is turning one's ears to a new symphony.

She further elaborated that learning to hear new sounds, new languages, and new ideas was essential. Her concluding thought reaffirmed my believe. She voiced the thought that, "if one lives in unquestioning belief of the 'naturalness' of one's native language, no true interaction with that language can develop; without such questioning, there would be no contemporary literature."

She is known as a transnational writer, a multilingual writer and she fits like a glove in this increasingly globalized world.

Her poetry performance was only 90 minutes, and the time flew by, but I gained a stronger sense of literacy inspiration from this famous Japanese-German transnational writer. I almost walked to say hi to her after the show but instead I let the crowd quickly line up. I appreciated her from my corner table in awe after the show.

My husband and I walked hand in hand. We are content to be in a transnational stage. The world is both deep and wide, with so many things to explore.

There is culture, hyper-culture, transnational life, words, thoughts and questions that add volume into the days. I am enjoying my days in America a bit more now and then.

------

TAN

Paradox of Peace

Paradox of Peace is a pop up word that describes my usual Monday morning bus ride to work. I choose the word "paradox" because it is one of my former shelter supervisor's favorite words and I choose the word "peace" because it is my favorite English word in America.

The Gandhi Statue, which is situated in front of the Indian Embassy on Massachusetts Ave., is a symbol of peace to me. At least his statue reminds me in its own way why I am here, in America.

Monday morning, I felt a bit different. I looked at the Gandhi Statue with mixed feelings.

I saw a worn out, extremely dirty-looking, brown blanket laying at the bottom of the statue. That blanket woke me up. Gandhi probably doesn't realize that his statue can easily be turned into a temporarily shelter for a homeless person in D.C.

The message of the great Indian man who devoted his entire life to peace and continues to create a powerful impact on the world, goes along with the message of a random homeless man in D.C who is struggling to find a roof over his head. This statue and this man were walking toward an unknown destination - the first one is world-recognized while the latter one is only an invisible man who the current government needs to pay attention to (but doesn't really). Peace for the homeless man can mean simply having his next meal and finally having a place to call home.

Peace travels far, deep, and a long ways. The powers of peace may ask you, "what have you been doing to create peace?" The paradox of peace can end now if we can merge the ideal world into reality, and if you can achieve peace with less paradox.

Peace,

TAN

Expat Cats

One of the my new found favorite bookstores, Candida's World of Books, on 14th Q St, NW, in DC, is going to close its business by the end of this month.

I first went there two weekends ago. I thought that this place was going to be my frequent destination. I also thought that I would earn a good rest and enjoy the cultural atmosphere as I acquired the spirit of the world from all ethnic codes.

One of the most intriquing reasons that invited me there was because I could relate with the openness of the bookstore owners and the essences of the books from around the world. All kinds of genres and all sorts of languages were displayed on the shelf. I felt the world in my hands. My heart kept dancing.

I visited this shop again this afternoon because of a big store closing sale. I listened to several dialogues between loyal customers and the owner. They asked incessantly, "How did this happen? Why are you closing?" A couple of customers walked in with a bouquet and bid farewell.

At one point, the owners answered, "It has been a great experience. We need to move on."

I heard both a challenge and the charm in those answers. I felt that as I picked up a children's book named "Expat Cats," a story of two cats who migrated to the United States Of America. The cats were from the United Arab Emirates. In one provoking line, it said, "It took a lot of courage and faith for the cats to migrate."

I couldn't stop thinking about the two bookstore owners who opened this lovely bookshop and kept it open for four years, the two Expat cats with their adventures in America, and my own two year and 8 month adventure in America.

We need a lot of courage and faith to undertake a new journey which is usually full of challenges and charms.

TAN

"It goes on"

Robert Frost, one of my favorite American poets, summed up what he leared from his life with this sentence - "it goes on."

Lately, I have been wondering about that, life, and the way that it goes on.

After an intense discussion about the recent project that I am undertaking, I felt positive energy rolling itself back to me slowly because of a gentle dialogue that I had with Paula. I work with Paula, a retired lawyer, who is a one-year volunteer at my organization. She said that, "Supalak, this is what I have learnt in my life - I am not in charge.".She calmly elaborated that we can put all of the effort in the world to control others/things/life; however, things are destined to their own ends. If your dog is going to die, you can try every way to save its life, bringing it to the veterinarian, and feed it the best food, but it will eventually die. If you have a difficult family life, you can seek all the support and counseling, and can change your perspective, but you cannot change others.

I told Paula that her statement, "I am not in charge" reminded me of other expressions, such as "let it go," or the Japanese term "wabi-sabi," which means "the beauty in the imperfection of things," and even the Thai term "mai pen rai," which refers to the state of calmness and an accepting mind that knows that things will eventually be O.K. In other words, life will go on.

Robert Frost, Paula, and I are reflecting various life philosophies based on our different cultural framworks. However, all lives must carry some sort of imbalances - grief, anger, love, peace, hate, jealousy, greed, etc. Those abstract thoughts are so vibrant that they not only shake our status quo, but boldly ask, "What have you learnt from life?"

I would like to answer each time, "It goes on."

TAN

Where you stand affects what you see

David Macaulay, artist and award-winning author, makes me wonder about our large complex story, life. He uses his power as an illustrator to question assumptions and see familiar buildings in unusual ways. It is the first time, for example, that I learned about the phrase "worm's eye view." He used this to describe, as you can probably guess, the view of a building from the ground level. I know only the phrase "bird's eye-view" before I visited the National Building Museum at Judiciary Square today.

His theme "Where you stand affects what you see" invited me to question my assumptions about living (on earth), buildings in the big city, learning, working, making mistakes, volunteering, relationships, and other activities in life where I might not usually apply this sentence. Your perspective depends upon where you stand in every situation, and you should be able to move around to see things from all dimensions.

I am struck by the above sentence. I like to take pictures of light and lines in between the buildings . Instead of taking the front of places and buildings, I usually run to the sides and the backs and try to navigate corners where people might pay little attention to, except perhaps the garbage man who comes regularly to take trash away.

Every day, I find the corners between buildings very fascinating and feel they are inviting areas to reflect upon, even to stand for a few minutes and meditate. I try to see those areas from the "worm's eye view" as David suggests and capture those moments into my daily experience.

I walk to work, walk to the markets, walk to the museums and stop at every single corner where public space permits and try to look at the world with a changing perspective.

David Macaulay wrote the following powerful thought - "I honestly think all of us would be better off if everyone took the time to draw, if for no other reason than the better we see, the more inevitable curiosity becomes. A lack of curiosity is the first step towards visual illiteracy -and by that I mean not really seeing what is going on around us." (1991)

I hope where you stand affects what you see in the world and that you will also be able to change your perspectives accordingly.

I need to go drawing,

bye bye.

TAN

A small slice of LIFE!

Wow ... I must say that I have had several food-inspired moments recently and cannot help but write them down. And I want to call it, "a small slice of life" as the singer, Greta Gertler expressed in her latest album - http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=18372424

I have a few Thai friends in DC (well, in America particularly) and one of my favorite friends is Sombat, a middle-aged Thai man who works as a Chef at a Thai restaurant in Falls Church, Virginia.

We met yesterday on his only day off, for a coffee and my first question for him was, "how is the kitchen?" He looked at me with a grim smile, "busy, boring, and tiring."

"Don't you like what you are doing? I am jealous at you, I want to be a chef," I exclaimed and almost scolded him for his answer. Why am I so quick on passing judgement on my friend? Who am I?

Sombat told me that his life is so uninteresting. The routine goes like this - he wakes up, goes to the restaurant, works from late morning till late night, comes home, sleeps, wakes up and starts the routine again, 6 days a week. Being in the kitchen, he cooks the same Pad Thai over and over and over. He makes me believe that his life is so crappy and I should't even start thinking of doing anything like what he is doing.

He asked me, "Don't you enjoy being a director?" His question really made my coffee more bitter than its actual taste. I told him that i was so stressed out with work and that I had reached the point in which I want to do nothing. (Basically, I was overworked and am waiting for a wonderful break).

Sombat told me that I don't want to work like him, on labor-intensive tasks, with no thinking required. I don't want to work 12 hours a day, 6 days a week, standing in the kitchen, cooking all the time. Even though I could cook and eat any Thai food that I crave, it would not be the core of a balanced life.

He concluded that we need a happy medium, that we need to be with family, enjoy a balance of work, live in a warmer place, and have enough independence to live life the way we want to. He kept telling me, "This is America, not Thailand, and this is not my home." I agreed with him but I am also trying to live in the present. Life is already tough enough, so if I add too much worries it won't help things.

We imagine that other people seem to have a better/richer and/or healthier life than we have, and in fact everyone faces their own struggles.

An hour passed and I had so much fun exchanging viewpoints, and arguing with Sombat, that we concluded two things: he doesn't want to be a director and I don't (think) that I want to be a chef. We will go back to what we are doing and try to find a happy medium, a well-balanced life, and we will reevaluate again whether this is something for real or just another slice.

A small slice of life in which we see each piece's deliciousness. The art of chewing is the key.

TAN

Street Noodles

I was in awe when the big bowl of my favorite noodle soup (guaytiew krae) was served to me in Arlington, Virginia.

This joy cannot be replaced or compared.

After months and months in America, it has been hard to imagine that I will have a chance to enjoy Thai food the way it is supposed to be cooked, as opposed to Thai-American food in which the authentic taste is oftentimes compromised by Western sensitivity to Thai spice levels and a lack of fresh ingredients.

It is pure joy when you know the authentic taste of something, and my enjoyment of this bowl brought about a series of memories. The noodle which I enjoyed on the streets of Bangkok was replicated here at Bangkok 54, a huge Thai grocery store in Virginia. The world is connected for me now.

The "street" noodles with their authentic taste is a simple joy that I can find in America.

TAN

$1.25 on a Saturday Morning

$1.25 was the bus fare in DC last year. (It is now $1.35 if you use cash). I usually take a bus, D2, from my apartment to work. It takes between 20-30 minutes depending on the time of day.

It was early Saturday morning, Jan 5, 2008, when I had the first new volunteer training of the year. I was so exhausted from the long weeks of preparation, so excited and nervous about training 40 new volunteers, so sleepy to get ready for this saturday that my mind wandered. I lacked focus and attentiveness. Still, I was trying to make sure that I would be ready to complete my duty, beautifully.

I left home early, left a half coffee in a big mug, ran to the bus stop with all my training plans in the cotton bag. It was around 6.30 a.m.

The D2 bus came right as I ran up to the bus stop, and I placed my farecard on the card reader as I usually do. It didn't read and made a weird noise that meant, "your balance is zero." I knew that I might be in trouble. I tried to find $1.25 in my wallet. I had no cash. I had no time to get cash from the ATM.

I told the driver, "sorry, I have no cash ..." (awkward silence between the driver and I)

"You don't have $1.25?" the driver asked bluntly.

"No, no money, what should I do?" I thought that he would just let me sit and tell me to forget about it. He asked again, "no money?"

A middle aged man, sitting in the middle seat, called to me and said, "Ma'am, here is $1.25, take it." I was so excited and politely grabbed that money and put it in the reader.

What a random kindness that was. We started to chat and I kept thanking him for his kindness. We exchanged small talk. "Where are you from?" This popular question came up. "Thailand. I am Thai. My husband is a student at American University. That is why I am in DC now." I answered with a big smile.

He told me that his wife is Mongolian. I was so excited and asked him what she did. "Well, it is 6:45 a.m. She probably was sleeping when I left home.'" Laughter filled the air. The bus driver kept driving sternly ahead.

It doesn't matter if you have had a long, stressful time. You must remember to keep a good balance and that life will grow because you know when and how to "let it go."

TAN

A Chance to Try

My husband read a quote for me that basically says something like "You will never fail if at least you try. " Does this simple statement make you think of any of your previous experiences or current situation?

I immediately stop and take a long, deep breath.

Supposing that all of my initiatives at work fail, at least I can try to initiate things.

If my living abroad experience doesn't work out as well as I want it to be, at least I can try to understand living out of my comfort zone.

If I fail to lose weight, at least I can try to treat myself to a healthy diet.

If I cannot go as far as my dreams want to go, at least I can try to dream.

If I will not accomplish the big goals in life (whatever they are), at least I can try to take care of my small, achievable goal (s).

If I cannot write as beautifully as my heart wants to, at least I can try to keep writing.

If I cannot be a good mom, at least I can try to be a good daughter.

If I fail to do good to others, at least I can try to make an effort to think good thoughts.

If you fail to recognize your values, at least you can try to start thinking about that now.

Thank you everyone who gives me a chance to try.

TAN

Stillness

This is a feeling of conflict and you have to experience that in order to understand it.

Recently, my work has taught me many lessons particularly how to handle conflict(s)/stress.

I have worked for more than 12 hours a day for more than two weeks, consecutively. My mind was heavily engaged with my immediate tasks and my body told me to take a break, but I didn't listen.

Consequently I lost my balance.

I am trying to maintain my stillness amidst the chaos, transition and changes. Why do all of these words occur at the same time? Is there a strong stillness in the midst of the chaos?

I suddenly feel overwhelmed by work because I lost my stillness, even though I want to believe that it is still there.

TAN