Compassionate Independence

I remember in Spain when many of my American classmates would gawk in ridicule about how their host siblings were commonly over the age of 20, sometimes 30, and still live at home with their mother. "Haven't they learned how to get a job?" was always the mocking question they'd ask amongst themselves.

But to me living with your parents wasn't strange at all. At least in Asian families children stay with the family well beyond their 20s. I remember when one of my best friends from high school was well into his 20's, he chose to move with his mother from their cramped 2-bedroom apartment to a larger 2400-sq ft home, but he didn't do it because he needed a place to stay, he did it to help pay the mortgage. The idea is that your parents cared for you as you grew older, and in return, you care for them as they do the same.

But that's not to say there isn't value in independence. An inability to separate from another person - your parents included - can be as much of a debility to personal growth just as much as an immunity to your loved ones. But I think independence, particularly in the United States, is propagated irresponsibly. We're told to be alone, but never taught how to be alone. This is seen in the distinction between "loneliness" and "aloneness".

The physical state of isolation is present in both conditions, but in "loneliness", we're still seeking companionship. We do this in our need to always go out with friends, to throw parties every weekend, even the need to be married or be in a relationship so quickly. The acceptance of other people somehow translates to a validation to our existence.

"Aloneness", on the other hand, is finding satisfaction in solitude. It is the comfort of being by yourself and appreciating the time for time itself. It is taking every single beautiful thing this world has to offer and appreciating it's simple existence, just as the world appreciates yours. That's what it really boils down to: having the confidence and security in knowing that you mean something in this world, regardless whether or not someone tells you so.

The problem particularly in this country is that we're filled with a false sense of confidence and we view conceding to the will of the collective as a weakness. It's viewed as an attack on independence. We're constantly bombarded with the message that we need to be leaders, we need to be independent, we need to be ourselves, yet we're never really made aware to the fact that leaders are defined by their masses, independence only exists in comparison to some level of conformity, and distinguishing ourselves from a crowd can only happen if that crowd is there to begin with.

The point isn't that these supposedly revered traits of greatness are only attained by few, but rather that we need to understand both to become a complete person. It is relentlessly beating this sense of independence into our hearts and minds that ironically causes the need that same ideology is working against. You see this in the supposedly "successful" people of the world. The celebrity has the need for attention, the multimillionaire has the need for money, the politician has the need for power. Most of it is merely for the approval of others, just through different means.

My mother told me that true contentment in solitude comes at the realization of happiness from helping others. I mean truly helping others. In addition to the false sense of independence in this country, we also promote a false sense of altruism as well. I find it strange that nearly every socially conscious person I've met wants to start a non-profit organization, but never wants to be part of one working towards the same goal. It's like an independent approach towards solving a shared issue.

Rather true contentment and true altruism and in some cases, true philanthropy, begins at reducing our own ego, our pride, and our yearning to own and do things independently. It comes at a very sincere realization of lessening the desires in our own lives and reducing the consumption that results from that selfishness. Sometimes even just learning how to be less focused on yourself and more on others, is enough, at times more, than any amount of time or money you could donate.

It seems that only the side of individuality is adored and sought after, yet this disconnection with ourselves and our communities explains many of the chronic problems we suffer from and also cause in the world. Most opinion polls report the United States to be the world's unhappiness nation despite all the gadgetry we're made to believe bring us joy. People still feel alone and unloved despite all the "romance" flourishing in popular media. Sadly, we've created an empty existence and passed it off as a superficial state of happiness. The problem is that we've never been told to examine ourselves internally. We've never properly learned how to be alone.



*Thanks to my mother and Jamil for inspiring this post.

Enlightenment through deprivation

I've always been intrigued by the ways in which enlightened beings lived. I've been told that samurais would sleep only a few hours a day, monks could go long periods without food, something in their spirit carried them beyond the luxuries in which we deem physical necessities nowadays.

I haven't eaten for 10 days now, meaning I haven't physically chewed a piece of food in more than a week. I've been on a 7-day master cleanse, the diet popularized by Beyoncé for her quick weight-loss to fulfill her role in the movie "Dream Girls". But the Master Cleanse isn't meant for weight-loss, for me it's not even that much about physical cleansing of the body (though that seems to be a byproduct of taking such an insane regiment). But rather, the master cleanse is a cleanse of our triangular relationship to life: the physical, emotional, and spiritual parts of our being.

Not once have I been physically hungry throughout this fast and I've learned the difference between "hunger" and "cravings". Instead what I've found is that gastronomic indulgences are really just distractions to disconnect us from our understanding of self, and in their absence you're forced to confront a number of internal emotions that brew to the surface; without things like "food" to latch onto, they really have nowhere else to go.

During this fast, I decided to learn about the food industry to essentially rebuild my diet after I had "reset" the digestive system, yet despite all the troubling and horrifying facts I've learned about the profit-driven trade, the only thing I could think about was eating the food being described. But what I missed most was participating in the festivities that involved food. The sharing, the laughing, the comradery in the breaking of bread amongst friends and family. Yet at the same time, I couldn't ignore the troubling disturbances that I had read about. Sadly, it made me feel that I could never successfully reintegrate myself back into the lifestyle I once enjoyed.

Ironically enough, the day in which I can finally eat (at least liquefied foods) is actually the first day I don't feel like eating. Something changed along the way. Somewhere I started feeling more and more detached from society and despite all the isolation from others, I was onto something. Maybe that's why the cleanse is commonly promoted for 10 days rather than 7.

Perhaps most troubling was I became more and more comfortable with being alone. Books, writing and work satisfied my needs of companionship. But I think the other component to finding inner peace is learning how to be peaceful with others. Inevitably we learn that as humans, we need each other. You have to learn to accept others for being human just as they have to learn to accept you.

The Power of Pain

We, as humans, are taught two types of thinking: Boast your accomplishments, be proud of who you are. The world is out there for the taking, so make it happen. On the other side of the spectrum we are taught to be humble, to belittle our ego. The world is a place we must share and sometimes we must concede to the ideas of others to make it work. The problem is not that these two views exist simultaneously in the world; the problem is the false belief that the two cannot coexist.

As human beings we are conditioned to avoid pain, both physical and emotional. But there is something magical about pain. It is the loudest and clearest voice we have. It tells our bodies and minds when we are progressively growing, or conversely, when we are overexerting ourselves. In the end, to fully realize both there is really only one requirement: You must know pain. You must go out fearlessly to confront it, and eventually, befriend it.

The reason there is such a polarization between the arrogant and the timid is a direct result to this avoidance of pain. We adhere to the type of thinking that already validates our way of life because that is what is comfortable. If we are arrogant, we will justify our actions with one belief. If we are timid, we will justify our actions with the other. In reality, those two need to be reversed. We need to actively seek out the uncomfortable and the painful, because they are what make us grow. They are what make us balanced.

All the answers lie within our own minds and bodies. Sometimes it’s not a matter of searching, but rather, a matter of listening.

Shameful

Children should not talk back to their parents. Neither should adults for that matter.

Timing

There's a saying in boxing, or well, not really a saying, but more of a cardinal ranking that says "speed" beats "power", but "timing" beats "speed". In physics the equation of kinetic energy is "1/2 mass times velocity squared". I remember my physics teacher pointing out how speed was always more important than mass in the development of energy; a bit counter intuitive for a Western perspective I think. Here "big" and "massive" are heralded over "small" and "mobile", like how Bruce Lee compares the philosophies to a stationary tree trunk to the swaying branches of bamboo. For him, bamboo always won out, because in the winds of a storm, bamboo would sway with the forces, rather than stubbornly pushing against it. After learning that perspective, I began respecting adaptability and flexibility over strength and power.

But in boxing, people commonly look at two things: speed and power. A fighter either hit really hard or punched really fast, and like ranking says, the faster fighter usually had the advantage. But the overlooked aspect which apparently outranks them all is the element of timing. WHEN you land the punch dictates everything. The biggest reason is because landing that a punch disrupts the momentum of the other fighter. Most boxers function on a rhythm, a cadence, and when that pattern is disrupted by a perfectly timed shot, they're forced to start over. Very few fighters can overcome a good timing with sheer force, and the few that do, don't last long as prizefighters.

But timing makes me think about life. How things come into your path and how sometimes good ideas aren't necessarily meant to be adopted when they initially dawn upon you. Sometimes they're meant to be held for later. The same principle applies in business: A good idea can go to shit if the moment isn't right.

Sunday strolls through Seattle

It's amazing how a visitor can open your eyes to a city that you've lived in half your life. If you let the inexplicable forces of nature and destiny guide you, you'll never be disappointed. We waited 30 mins for some doughnuts holes in a place I never knew existed. Had a variety of teas from a Chinese guy that operates a tea shop in downtown Seattle, but lives three blocks away from my parents in Bellevue. Explored a new world of literature and connected with what I would call, a "book expert." It put my book reading skills to shame, but only forced me to work harder. Discovered that you can carry 4lbs of king crab and oysters onto the plane as long as you use dry ice. Topped it all off with a hum bao and "The Story of Stuff". Goddamn it was a good day in Seattle. Good day to be alive.

Conversations with my Father

Over the past few weeks, my father and I have been meeting for random lunches, and during these meetings we would chat mostly about the logistics of business; the specific things I have to learn in the property management world. Like most discussions, what arbitrarily develops are side conversations, things that are related, but not directly. I discovered a lot about my father within these small conversational tangents. There's something about youth that makes us stupid enough to think our parents were never once like us, or that we are somehow existing apart from their own story. I think at some point, we are eventually able to place our own lives in the context of theirs, which in turn, make us more appreciative of all they've sacrificed for us.

My father came to this country when he was 24 with nothing more than $50 and a Ford Pinto. Comparatively, that is much more than other immigrants, but to most US Americans, it's nothing. From that he built what we have today. A tax firm, multiple properties and a damn nice house. Given the humble beginnings of his own family, it's quite a feat. I never knew this but my father came from a once wealthy family until the government came in and seized all the family's possessions. They were completely bankrupt. He would tell me how in the following years the question of their next meal would be a daily concern. He was five at the time.

That story is the driving fuel of my father's ambition. He never wanted to go back. He never wanted any us to go through that. Growing up, I've never questioned our standard of living. I just thought that was how it was. We actually grew up quite poor; my parents just never let me know. After working with my father and witnessing his day-to-day life, I realize how damn hard he works, and well, in reality, the relative luxury that I enjoy is nothing guaranteed. My father wasn't born into wealth, and apparently, neither was I. Instead, our livelihood is constantly upheld by years and years of toil. Never once has my father gotten lazy. In fact he still wakes up at 6am every morning.

The one thing I respect about my father compared to other Chinese/Taiwanese entrepreneurs is that he doesn't keep it within the culture. Don't get me wrong, he is still VERY Taiwanese, but in a business sense, he works with everyone, treats everyone equally and I've yet to hear him say something racially prejudice about any of his clients, business partners or tenants. My friend Mike said he really liked my father. He said my father never talked down to him for his dark complexion like other Asian parents have and that he always felt welcomed in my parents' home. For years I've studied ethnic studies and all the little nuances of race, yet somehow these small instances of change still go overlooked when they occur in my own household. I guess youth and aimless rebellion makes us ignorant our own lives.

These conversations with my father have garnered a higher respect for the code of life that he lives by. I've always been awed at the accomplishments of my father, like a kid would be to his favorite comic-book hero, but at the same time, hearing about his own struggles have made him more human in my eyes. He tells me of his failures, his foolish decisions and, to my discomfort, his fears. I've always viewed my father as an invincible and indestructible force. But I suppose everyone has their own fears, even super-heroes.

I guess you could say I've grown up in these conversations with my father. I can say I understand, just a bit better, of what my family has done to be here, and finally appreciate all the blessing I have in my life. Sometimes it's a bit saddening that I can't hold the same innocent and juvenile awe that I once had, but at the same time, who said humans can't be heroes too?