How sometimes, things are, painted over, to fool ourselves, into believing, that they’re, better than they are in reality…translated…
Optimism, in Today, Where it’s Not Going Too Well for it
Like the Sugar in Coffee, Always Got Added Too Much in
To the Point that the Bitterness, the Sour Became, that Vanishing, Memory
Becoming the Serenades of the Blind on the Streets
From Disbelieving in the Springtime, Secretly Putting on
The Beautiful Attires,
Misbelieving that One is the Daughter of, Butterflies
Talked of Everything that’s Beauty & Wonder, Putting the Lipsticks onto the Beggars
painting it over, to cover it up…photo from online
You Can Save the Stars from the Reflections in the Lakes
They’re Not Gods of the Daytime, But They’re Enough to Fool
But, Those Which Are Shattered Are, the True, Stars, Right?
Besides, it’s Always the Good Moods
Which Are Melted into Space Always
In the Thinning Fog You Have to Ask the Sun Where the Wind Went
Did it, Secretly, Switch the Photos of Our Youth, to the Photoshopped Versions of, Us?
And, all of these are happening because, you can’t accept something, because something that you’re trying to not look at, is, simply, too hard for you to, take, so, you’d, painted it over, like how old you’re, getting, despite how many botox sessions, face lifts you have, you still, can’t, defy how old you are in reality.
The lesson this father learned, from his baby daughter, who is in her, Queen Elsa stage of life, translated…
I have a four-year-old daughter who loved nothing but skirts, but, in her preschool, for the kids to stay easily managed, and having the agility to do the class activities, the preschool told the students that they can’t wear skirts or dresses to classes, and so, on the weekends and holidays, she’d, made up for it, putting on the skirts, the dresses, to satisfy her own desires of being dolled up like a princess.
Since we received the preowned princess dress from a friend, she’d, found that hidden princess side of her self, even though, she’d not seen any Disney princess films, but through the social networking in her school, she’d become, the master of “Frozen” by Disney, “let it go” became her overly used phrase, and on the weekends, she’d insisted, on becoming Elsa the queen, with that crown on her head, a magic wand in her hand, then, she would allow us to take her out, she’d, put her heart, her soul, her being into this, as a father to her, and a film director, I don’t know how to react to it, and realized, just how, powerful an influence the movie industry has on the people.
I wrecked my mind, do I, allow my daughter to exercise her own free imagination, or to restrict her, to set a right kind of value system for her to follow?
little girls, dressing themselves up as princesses
photo from online
This semester, I’d started teaching a master class, “Writing Scripts for Young Children”, I’d set up the discussion times with my students on the matter of “children” from before. First, understand the minds of the young children? How the children’s thought processes worked? How do they express themselves? How to get along, communicate, then lastly, what we want to, give to the children? This order is quite vital, but in the Asian culture, stressing raising outstanding children, we only cared about what we’re, feeding to the children, how to make them absorb what we’re giving to them, to make sure they learned the lessons quickly, and all of the lessons we have to teach all at once? As for the children’s thoughts, or feelings………we’d ignored, wait until they’re older, then, we tailor to that.
On the weekend, I took my young daughter, dressed up as Queen Elsa to Costco to shop, because of how she’d stood out, the ladies working at the sample tables, and demonstrating the new products all came to say hello.
“Hi, princess”.
“Princess, you are, beautiful!”
“What are you looking to buy today, princess?”
“Are you Princess Elsa? I saw your movie once!”
All the way, my daughter was very conversational with everybody who’d greeted her, it’s her dad who felt, embarrassed, and boy oh boy, am I glad, that I’d put my mask on.
“Does it bother you, or make you uncomfortable, that you’re getting, everybody’s, attention?”, I’d asked my daughter.
“no.”, she’d responded.
“So, you enjoy all the attention then?” I’d inquired.
“Sure, because they’re giving me compliments, affirming me.”, she’d told me.
Actually, this child of mine, had suppressed her feelings from when she was a young child, refused to express herself, and we’d had to guess what’s on her mind a lot. It took my wife and I a ton of time, and worked hard with her, for her to finally express her own emotions, to tell her thoughts to us, and now, the results are finally, apparent.
what these, little girls, loved…photo from online
Before we give to the children, and teach them things, we must first, know what they’re thinking, how they’re, feeling; understand, empathize, allowing them to tell us, give the children their own means of expression, to valid what they experience, this is, the core value of writing for children.
Letting the children be themselves, versus training them to be someone else we expect them to become, this is a huge matter for not just the parents, but also, a must-learn lesson for everybody in this world. I’m too grateful to my princess, teaching her father, the “king”, to learn this, important lesson.
So, the adults learned something from the children here, because there is, a lot to learn from your own kids, but, mostly, you @#$%ING (maxed out!) adults think, that we’re older, therefore, we know more than you do kid, and, we will silence you, because you got nothing important to say, after, we are older, AND wiser, having lived longer.
And yet, there are, a ton of things, that the adults should be learning from their own young, not the other way around, children are, born wise, and then, they grow up, become, stupid adults.
Making ourselves feel useful, even as we’d, stopped working in our jobs here, translated…
The Japanese man, Akasegawa mentioned the ideas of “elderly power”. This is a sort of a reversal thinking, turning forgetfulness, nagging, repeating the behaviors of the elderly years, into the “powers of the elderly”. “Elderly Ability”, on the inside flip it had, “normally people say that you’re old, that you’re, stupid, or that you can’t sit still, but the reality is: ahhhhhhh, the energies of an old man like me, had always been great, it’s been told like this, then, don’t’ know why, I’d, become, more active in aging, and I’d felt, that it is, a good, thing.”
There are the sightings of elderly energies all over Japan, when I’d traveled to Japan, there was an elderly worker who’d, left that deep impression with me. It was during a February downpour, we’d arrived to Atami, to go see the camelias in bloom, the cold weather season, plus the downpour, it seemed, that the trip had, gone to, total, waste then. The counter clerk at the hotel was an elderly woman, dressed in a kimono, she’d kneeled on the floor, squinted her eyes, smiled and told us, “In this cold a weather, I’m very grateful for all of you, our, honored guests to come here, today is, a good day, the plants in the courtyard had been quenched with the water, they’re all in a good mood, and, expecting to see all of you.” Her words, helped lifted up the gloom of all of our, moods then, and, that trip, we went out in our umbrellas, and, looked at the beautiful camelias, the red ones, the white ones, each one is, quite, beautiful, there’s a species called “the crown”, with the red-bordered white petals around the red stamens of yellow, looked exactly like a crown, very noble-looking. At supper, we’d met the lady who’d lightened up our moods earlier, she was eighty-three years old already, and told us, she was, glad to, still be, working, that helping the travelers feel happy, it made herself, happier.
There’s a shortage of caddies in the golf course in Chiba long-term, the elderly population who were retired during the time, had suffered cuts of their retirement funds, and are falling ill too. The golf court started hiring the elderly folks to work as caddies, the eighteen holes of a game, split into nines, with the two elderly caddies servicing the golfers. The elderly carrying the golf bags around, breathing in the fresh air, conversed with the customers, and making a paycheck too. I’d gone to the particular golf course, and I became, deeply impressed of how the Japanese enterprises solved the shortages of staff members by hiring the elderly population to work, that it’s a resolve, for the welfare of the society at the same time.
There are, the elderly volunteer tour guides at the sights in Japan, they’d led the tours, told about the histories of the places, and their work ethics, made the visitors, truly loved, their hometowns. As I’d gone to see the maple leaves, an eighty-year-old tour guide of the location, was showing signs of dementia, being forgetful. As he’d finished up his tour with the group, he’d realized, that he’d, missed a tiny part, and insisted on leading the group to go on the tour, all over again, and it’d, added more wonderful memories of the trip for us.
There are those elderly populations here who are, giving in silent here in Taiwan. The seventy-two-year-old Aunty Yang originally sold the fried crisp chicken pieces at the marketplaces, since her retirement, everything Wednesday, she’d prepared the items, and brought the foods to the tribal elementary schools to help with free meal plan for the children. On the days that Mrs. Yang was in the school, the kitchen smelled aromatic, the teachers and students became more enthusiastic in teaching and learning. Seeing how the students were enjoying her meals, Mrs. Yang was the happiest of them all.
contributions in the elderly years…
staying healthy through exercise…photo from onlne
The eighty-year-old professor Huang, had depression that he’d almost, committed suicide; and by chance, he’d found that a corner of the Da-An Forest Park in Taipei was filled up with the weeds and the fallen leaves all over that particular patch, and he’d brought along a broom, and the dustpan to clean up that lot, and became, best friends with the squirrels, and the wild birds in the park, and it’d given meaning to his life suddenly.
Being alone or feeling lonely means lacking that connection with other people, it would make us feel empty inside, that we aren’t needed, that we are, worthless. Loneliness may increase the risks of many illnesses (including myocardial infarctions), there was the loneliness department set up in Great Britain, and the British government started sending the officials of the courts to work there. A lot of elderly complained of loneliness, boredom, blamed their young for not staying with them. Actually, the children had their own lives. The elderly may be weak, may be forgetful, but, relying on the self is the best means, using one’s abilities as an elderly person to work, to volunteer, not only would you have the company that you needed, you can learn, and feel that sense of achievement. Improving your own qualities of life, getting your health better, psychologically, and physically too.
and by giving back to the community…
like this…photo from online
And so, the key here is, continue to make your contributions to the world, like the cases the writer gave, the elderly in all of these cases all found their new purpose in life, because after we retired, the time became, free, and, with nothing to do, we can only, watch the days get torn off on that page-a-day, and the days will be slower than usual, because we can’t find a brand new purpose, because we got nothing else we are doing but staying at home. The key here is to socialize, to get involved with the society all around us when we’re, elderly, to keep our minds, our bodies, healthy, even after the retirement.
The guardian of the threshold, who’d helped this individual, connect with others, that s/he originally felt awkward, and not comfortable enough in doing, we all need someone like this in our lives at one time or another, translated…
I’d always been too shy growing up, and didn’t have that many good friends, although I’m not completely an outcast of my class, but I’d, always, stayed by myself. Those girlfriends who’d gone to the drinking fountain to get water together, going to the restrooms hand-in-hand, I’d never had the experiences of. I’d originally thought, I would, be alone like this until I grow up, but him being there, helped me changed this, sorrowful, predicament.
Don’t know when he’d started, noticing me, but I always remembered those first words he’d blurted to me, “hi, can you lend me a pen?” and from a pen, my story started getting, rewritten.
someone who helped us, fit in…
from online
After I’d lent him that pen, he’d started, borrowing things from me more frequently, even nicknamed me “the Kind”. He’d introduced me to the circle of his own friends, and when we divide up in groups, he’d, gotten me in too. As I’d become more aware, we’d become, inseparable then, the best of, friends.
Because of him, more and more people in class started noticing me, and on the way to school, I would get greeted by others too, I’d felt that I’m, a part of, the class now. I’d become, more connected with the class, and, whenever the group activities were assigned to us, I no longer felt, as, anxious.
Many years later, we’d lost touch, but my gratitude toward him still didn’t get reduced one bit. If we have the chance of bumping into one another again, I want to tell him, “Hey, thanks!”
And so, this is someone who’d, acted as a threshold guardian to you in your schooling years, he’d helped you open up a bit, so you would feel more connected with everybody who’s around you, and you no longer felt, as isolated and alone in the class.
The perfect example of how to age gracefully, translated…
“Great grandma lives too far away now!”, my son told. My daughter great grandmother moved in with my aunt in Kaohsiung now, to the adults, it isn’t, that far away, but, to my daughter, who easily gets heat strokes, in a wheelchair, it’s nothing easy, going to Kaohsiung, where the sun shines constantly during the day, the temperatures, too high, and so, the winters became the only season we are able to, travel as a family.
At the start of the year, we’d taken the two kids to Kaohsiung to visit their great grandmother, and for a road trip too. We’d first arrived at the pineapple factory, where the tour guide explained the process of manufacturing of pineapples, the history of the industry, then, we’d, headed to that old ironclad hang bridge, out of my expectation there were, the people standing on the bridge; standing on that old bridge, we watched the trains speed past, hearing the noises from all around, but, what entered into my ears, were the laughter of my own children.
As their ninety-nine-year-old great grandmother saw the great grandchildren, she’d smiled that long-time-no-see smile of hers, slowly got up, walked slowly next to my daughter’s wheelchair to a stool, sat herself down, and asked, “Wen-Wen, are you tired?”, she was still very gentle and kind as I’d, remembered that she’d been to me, in the past when I’d taken my daughter to physical therapy, great grandma would come out from her house opposite to where we used to live, to hold the umbrella to cover my daughter up, compared to how aloof their grandfather who lives with us had been, my great grandmother’s show of care and concerns to our family, I was, touched by, and, felt, ever the more, grateful for.
As I’d asked about my great grandmother’s life after she’d moved to Kaohsiung with my aunt and uncle, she could still eat her favorite, pork’s feet and the crabapples too, and, she’s, just as agile as the rest of us! She’s probably, the healthiest, the most special elder I’d known, in her eighties, she would get up in the middle of the nights to watch the American Major Leagues games, in her nineties, she’d, walked herself out to buy the fried chickens she wanted to eat, and told the shop owner to not slice it to pieces, because she’d wanted to experience how the younger generations, grabbed the chickens, and started chewing them down……………
As we carried on in our conversations, the fatigue I’d felt from the trip, disappeared, little by little, as we’d, visited, my grandmother.
And so, this, is how you can, age, gracefully, like how this, elderly woman stayed active, by continue to socialize with her external environment, by having that optimism of life, by enjoying every day she has, like it was her final day on earth.
An elderly who refused to get beaten by old age, staying independent, and optimistic through life, an example for all of us, younger generations, translated…
Grandma Wang is 106 this year, she is my mother’s best fri4end, watched me from when I was a toddler, to becoming, a grandmother myself, after my mother passed, every once in a while, I’d, gone to visit her. The neighbors who grew up with me from way back would also, go visit her as well, to comfort her, who didn’t have any children.
At first, I think we were visiting Grandma Wang because of transference. Because our own mothers passed, and we don’t have any sense of belonging any more, and Grandma Wang was my mother’s, best friend, and being around her, it’d made me feel like I was with my mother again.
But, why would I, get motivated, comfortably, without any pressures, to go visit with her? Or maybe, it was, the lack of the pressures, that sense of gratitude, catching on with the times, that’s, made her, very amicable.
She’d not, pressured us to go visit her more, and, not thought of, how long ago was it since we’d, last come, nor would she just, sit at home, and wait for us to visit; as we’d, visited, and when we are going off, she’d not let me feel guilty about not spending enough time with her. And, no matter if we’d brought her clothing, daily necessities, or run the errands for her from time to time, she’d, taken our acts graciously, and, thanked us verbally repeatedly.
And, even though, in my minds, she wasn’t, lucky enough, because her husband died young, she didn’t have any children, and can only live off of the government’s low income sustenance, but she’d always told, of how blessed she was.
Or maybe she’d known, that she couldn’t rely on anyone, it’d, helped her become, the more, independent.
She has failing sight, couldn’t watch T.V. or read the books or the papers, and so, she’d, listened to the radio, no matter if it’s the topics on politics, finance, or social matters, she could carry on in conversation with us. She can’t stand too long, couldn’t go out for strolls, and she’d, used the tables and chairs to steady herself, and, exercised inside her house, or did the exercises with her arms, and she’d, told us, to move around more if we want to live well. Everything she could do on her own, she’d not requested anybody to help her, and she’d always, found things to do on her own too, that it helped her pass the time. Sometimes, as I’d gone to visit, she was, chopping up the fillings of the dumplings.
It no wonder, that other than us, the man in charge of the local borough also loved paying her visits, as well as the personnel of the social welfare programs too, to carry on in conversations with her. While my husband and I would often remind each other, that we need to follow her lead in our old age. Becoming an independent, self-made, gracious, grateful, elderly whom others loved being around.
And so, what helped this elderly person to be loved by others around her in life is her temperament, how despite how she had the conditions that came with her elderly years, she’d still, worked hard, to live her life to the fullest, not relying on anyone, staying, as independent as she possibly can, and, it’s her means to living her life, that’s, drawn all the members of the younger generations to her.
This would be a QUESTION I have for, ALL of you out there, and I still have to apologize FIRST, for using “foul” language beforehand here…
Who the FUCK (oopsy!) says, that after we women marry, we need to take the last names of our husbands? And, wouldn’t that make us like, your “subordinates”, like second-class citizens? This, is a “tradition” that started, from AGES, or maybe, EONS ago too.
And, why the HELL should we lose our last names, why don’t you men, take OUR last names instead, after all, we are the ones, with the ABILITY to CARRY your offspring, and so, why the HELL is it, that our kids need to take YOUR last names, instead of ours?
This is MORE than just the matter of last names, it’s about how women ARE perceived in the varied cultures in the world, because we’re married to you, we need to “lose” our own last names, because we are, married to you, is that right? So, how come, YOU stupid losers don’t change your last names to ours? After all, we are, living, IN the 21st CENTURY here, and, it is, OUR (women’s) era, to RULE, isn’t that right?
If you’re human, then, surely, you will go through the process of growing old, and falling ill, and die, but, it seems, that on the writings on such subjects, there are, gender specifications too.
Men, unless they’re Zen masters or Buddhists, they usually not talked about the direct effects of the body, deteriorating. When men writes on the subject of ailments, it’s usually on someone else’s ailments; the patients’ (if the writer is a doctor), or the family members (if he’s a next-of-kin). And, if the man is talking about his own experiences, then, he’d focused on fighting off the illnesses, like how after Dominique Bauby had a stroke, he’d used his eyes, and finished “Diving Bell & the Butterfly”. If men wrote their experiences with their health ailments out into books, it’s usually, documenting how they were able to successfully beaten their conditions. And the ailments showed how they are unrelenting, in battling their conditions, and how strong their will to survive is.
………
Of course, there are, also women who refused to be beaten by old age too. But, at a certain age, women will eventually, admit to being defeated by the years.
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This just shows how there’s this SHARP and contrasting difference to how men and women deal with the issues that they’re faced with, men are more active in writing about their experiences, battling their own conditions, while women take a more laid-back approach, and, women are more than likely to remember the days when they were once healthy, more than men, based off this article.
My daughter had always wanted a cat for a pet, but, because neither one of us wanted to, she’d let that thought go. Back in high school, one day, she saw a Rilakkuma, she’d bought it, with glee, it was, about eighty centimeters in height, with light brown coat, a square head, short and fat limbs, very cute, my daughter called it “Bear”, the three of us all loved it so. The bear would usually stay in my daughter’s room, and accompanied my daughter to dreams at night; during the cold winter nights, my daughter would make sure, that her bear is warm, but when she wakes in the morn, the bear would usually have made its escape out, and would be on its side or with its head into the bed, making my daughter laugh.
At meal time, my daughter would carry the bear to the tables and sat with us, it’d stood, on the long chair, with its two, short arms on the table, like a kid, standing up, to eat at the table. After meal, my daughter would carry her Teddy bear back into her bedroom, and would from time to time, nag it, out of fun, “Everybody’s finished already, only you, still here, you glutton.”
The rest time before bedtime, we’d all lain on the bed, sharing conversations, naturally, the bear would also, be there too.
The bear is naturally, my daughter’s number one fan when she plays the piano, whenever my daughter would practice, she’d placed the bear close by; and from time to time, she would have me, hold on to the bear, and listen to her play, after she’s done performing, I would pull the bear’s hands together, to give her the applause, and hollered, “Encore! Encore!”, and my daughter would be filled with glee. Whenever my daughter felt off, she’d told her sorrows to her bear too, she felt, that the bear had great healing powers.
Whenever it’s sunny, my daughter would put the bear onto the couch in the living room, to give it a sunbath, and, after the bear was warmed, she’d then, carry it back into her bedroom, and stated, “the bear had already gotten the essence of the sun and the moon now, it’d become, an energy bear!”
Sometimes, when my daughter heads off abroad to travel or to perform, she’d lain her bear on her bed, pull the covers over her, told it, “You must behave yourself, and wait, for my return.”
What’s more classic was, when she’d started grad school, and was going to her orientation, she’d brought the bear with her to her dorm; and when she’d called home regularly, she’d told me of how the bear was doing; and, waited until the summer or winter vacations, she’d bring the bear home with her.
Being an only daughter is really lonely, but, with her bear accompanying her, as parents, we feel, better about her not having a sibling.
And so, this, is how FAR someone’s attachment objects can go, this young woman didn’t have ANY siblings, as she’s an only child, and so, she’d found herself an attachment object, in this case, a Teddy bear, to accompany her, now, I’m not saying, that having an attachment object is a bad thing, but, this, is just, going WAY too far here, in MY opinion, that is.
Mirroring the World 
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