I was speaking to a very close friend of mine the other day and he made this profound comment: "I'm an adult," he said, "I've grown up". After reflecting on that for a little while, I realized that so had I. The last vestiges of my childhood are gone. I'm working and supporting myself. I live on my own; I deal with my problems by myself (when I can). I'm in this messy confusing relationship that doesn't have any real boundaries, beyond the fact that it's real - far realer than the stuff of boyhood fantasy.
I'm not exactly sure when this happened. I guess at some point over the past year and a half. Some point after I moved to Singapore. And it wasn't a sudden transformation, it was a subtle, gradual shift. Or maybe it only seemed that way to me.
I'm in Singapore right now for Chinese New Years, the biggest holiday in many Asian cultures, and certainly in Chinese cultures. I went to a reunion dinner last night. We had steamboat. I enjoyed it.
I think one of the most striking observations that I've made is that the world is far, far, far more complicated than I could have ever imagined. And I'm not talking about politics and all that bullshit, but personal relationships and how we interact with each other, and the reasons we do the things we do.
I was struck by my father; he said something to the effect that he and my mother were very grateful and really enjoyed my visit back to the US over the holidays. Grateful.... Why was he grateful? Of course I would come back, how could I not? I wanted to see them and my family - I missed them dearly. And, of course, I miss them dearly today.
And it struck me that my parents are starting to get old, which made me a little sad. I've always teased them about how they're old, and how my dad's hair is turning gray and so on... but it was always in jest.
Why is it that people do things, knowing they're going to hurt someone else, not wanting to hurt someone else, but still doing them. Not being capable of not doing it? And why do we feel so isolated in our human shells? Why is it so hard to reach across and breakthrough that barrier? I can't think that it's because we're selfish creatures, we have such great capacity for magnanimity.
I think that's part of why I like writing so much. It helps me understand things that I don't. Well, it helps me muddle through as best I can, I guess.
I think it's the scars we can't see, the ones below the skin. Those are the ones that really hurt us. The ones that make us do things we don't understand and that we don't want to. We're just trying to protect ourselves, and what is so wrong with that? Alas, we often end up turning the knife against our own skin in our haste.
Maybe that's what wisdom is - knowing when we should protect ourself, and knowing when to expose our heart, red and dripping with blood.
I'm not exactly sure when this happened. I guess at some point over the past year and a half. Some point after I moved to Singapore. And it wasn't a sudden transformation, it was a subtle, gradual shift. Or maybe it only seemed that way to me.
I'm in Singapore right now for Chinese New Years, the biggest holiday in many Asian cultures, and certainly in Chinese cultures. I went to a reunion dinner last night. We had steamboat. I enjoyed it.
I think one of the most striking observations that I've made is that the world is far, far, far more complicated than I could have ever imagined. And I'm not talking about politics and all that bullshit, but personal relationships and how we interact with each other, and the reasons we do the things we do.
I was struck by my father; he said something to the effect that he and my mother were very grateful and really enjoyed my visit back to the US over the holidays. Grateful.... Why was he grateful? Of course I would come back, how could I not? I wanted to see them and my family - I missed them dearly. And, of course, I miss them dearly today.
And it struck me that my parents are starting to get old, which made me a little sad. I've always teased them about how they're old, and how my dad's hair is turning gray and so on... but it was always in jest.
Why is it that people do things, knowing they're going to hurt someone else, not wanting to hurt someone else, but still doing them. Not being capable of not doing it? And why do we feel so isolated in our human shells? Why is it so hard to reach across and breakthrough that barrier? I can't think that it's because we're selfish creatures, we have such great capacity for magnanimity.
I think that's part of why I like writing so much. It helps me understand things that I don't. Well, it helps me muddle through as best I can, I guess.
I think it's the scars we can't see, the ones below the skin. Those are the ones that really hurt us. The ones that make us do things we don't understand and that we don't want to. We're just trying to protect ourselves, and what is so wrong with that? Alas, we often end up turning the knife against our own skin in our haste.
Maybe that's what wisdom is - knowing when we should protect ourself, and knowing when to expose our heart, red and dripping with blood.
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